Tuesday, January 27, 2009

When life hands you lemons....you make lemon juice and use it to bang crack: Friday night

Welcome to my wasteland.

Ugh, I'm so tired and this is probably gonna take more time than it(the story) is worth. As you all know every one of my minutes is precious....even if I'm just being my usual ass draggin self.
I'll just go into it, if I don't I'll get caught up in some random rambling and lose sight of the objective...to post about my Friday night rug burn adventure.
It started out as a regular evening, Casey and myself had settled in for a round of movie watching/pill popping/drinking/whatever the fuck when the phone rang. Casey rolled his eyes and gave me a dirty look as is his habit any time this happens. He never gets calls so he knows it's for me (I'm amazingly popular) and for some reason this makes him pissy.
Usually it's the junky underground, sometimes it's Josh (ugh Josh) and sometimes it's Rainman. This time it happened to be Rainman sounding exasperated and frighteningly geeked. He squawked something unintelligible and then demanded to speak with Casey. I held out the phone and my beloved shot me an even dirtier look before he snatched it outta my hand...grabby bastard!
All I got from his side of the conversation was that R-man was asking permission to kidnap me for the night. How sweet! I was feeling a bit insulted when the phone was thrust back at me but R-man gave me no opportunity to tell him what I thought of his high-handed tactics. He was burbling and sputtering at such an alarming rate that I thought he was gonna go into some kind of spasticated seizure.
I was able to make out the words favor,30 minutes,Gallup, babysit, kick down and Oxy. I'm sure y'all can figure out which of those words caught my attention. I glanced over at Casey who said, "Go ahead, it's not like me telling you no is gonna make a difference anyway." Does my honey know me or what?
I blew him a kiss and informed Rainman that yes I would be ready in 30, come and get me. I suffered through Casey's snide commentary while I got dressed and then assured him that it was for the greater good. I was about to subject myself to unknown realms of tweeker shenanigans just so I could bring home something more substantial that Percocet and Xanax. I'm not just thinking of myself when I do these things!
I was out the door just seconds before R-man pulled up in his disco-tweeker mobile *sigh* I opened the door and was greeted by the familiar smell of speed a-cookin in the pipe. I climbed into the car and we were off, it took me a minute to squint past the cloud of cryysy and make out Maniac riding in the back. Haha that bitch was finally learning his place.
He leered at me and shoved the pipe in my direction...and yeah, I took it. Why the fuck not? In for a penny in for a pound...
Anyway we were off and between hits I managed to find out that we were going to pick up some guy and "something else" and then drive to Gallup to deliver these items to Bubba. If y'all don't remember I made that trip once before with Eric, it was the house full of scary dirthead motherfuckers and tweeked out dogs.
We drove out onto the res and pulled up to some godforsaken trailer home. R-man motioned us to come with him and as we were walking to the door Maniac told me that I was in for a treat. He was just about to elaborate when R-man told him to shut the fuck up. Not a good sign.
I was thinking to myself that as long as this trailer didn't smell like speed and dog farts I would consider myself ahead of the game. We were ushered inside by some emaciated girl who could have been anywhere from 30 to 300. The boys strolled in like they were the Rolling Stones, getting treated like some kind of meth Gods. Haha LAME but whatever, some of the awe was sent in my direction since I was lucky enough to be travelling in their exalted company. Pffffft!
The living room was FULL of tweekers in various states of spun out-ed-ness and we made our way through that nightmare and into one of the back bedrooms (there's always a back bedroom).
At this point I was feeling fairly tingly and I was totally unprepared for what happened next. There were two guys in the room (it's not what you think)and they were smoking up on either side of a FAT pile of what looked and smelled like crack. I was inhaling the fumes, not really paying attention when a third guy emerged from the bathroom and walked up to us. Enter the new lust interest.
He smiled at me and asked R-man if I was the girl he'd been telling him about. I was semi-mesmerized by the fact that he was not only hot as fuck but also had Black Flag bars tattooed on his neck hmmmmmm.....
His name was Adrian and he cordially invited me to join him in the bathroom for a shot.He had hellacious tracks on his arms intermingled with prison-y tats and some bruises, Christ could he get any more delicious? The answer is yes. He became damn near irresistible when he loaded a new point with some go solution and handed it to me. Too bad it was speed and not H, had it been heroin I may not have been responsible for my actions. I believe I've mentioned my attraction to guys with neck tattoos, IV issues and weird personality flaws. So what.
He pulled off his belt and offered it to me, what a gentleman! I was about to do my thing when I noticed the lemon halves on the counter. What the fuck? As addled as I was by his nearness (he was way too close) my druggie data bank kicked in and I remembered what such things were used for.
"Am I about to bang crack?" I asked in a calm voice.
He laughed and said, "No." Good enough, I took his word for it and threaded myself in record time. I was enjoying the heart stopping feeling when he crouched down and unwrapped his belt from my ankle, the little darling. I was still trying to catch my breath when he stuck himself and watching him do it was .....nice.
*deep breath* I'll try and refrain from going into superfluous details about how magnificent he looked at that moment....with a point in his hand...and after....bloody...
So I was relearning how to breath when Maniac tapped on the door and said we were getting ready to leave. Just as well, this Adrian thing could get messy. I love Casey and I will NOT be led astray by speed enhanced hormones!
As we walked out Adrian asked if he could call me, Maniac rolled his eyes and R-man chittered out something that sounded like "mlah mlah Casey mlah kill your ass." I ignored them and said maybe it would be best if I just ran into him later, seeing as how my old man might become unhinged if one more guy was added to the phone roster.
He said that would be cool and we left him there in the back bedroom. We had been joined by one of the crack smokers and made our merry way out into the night.
R-man took me aside and told me the plan. We were gonna drive this guy to Gallup, drop him, his vehicle and "something else" at Bubba's and then drive back. Maniac was gonna drive with me and crack boy and R-man was gonna follow in the disco mobile.
I was almost relieved (I have an irrational dislike for the disco mobile) until Maniac pulled around in a van that would have been at home on the set of the A-team. It was an honest to God 70's raper van.
R-man then told me that reason I would not be driving was because he needed me to keep an eye on David (crack boy) who was apparently a wackadoo of Amy Winehouse-like proportions. The wackadoo who had thus far remained silent began to giggle. UGH!
I resigned myself to my assignment and made my way towards the van. I had to climb in through the back doors and whilst crawling into the blackness I felt what had to be shag carpet under my hands. Are you fucking kidding me?
Crack boy scuttled in behind me and we headed out. Maniac promptly began to give me shit for the Adrian episode, telling me that he hadn't seen me act that way since Richie got locked up. He went on to say that it was appropriate since Richie had been 19 and Adrian was..........20. WHAT????
He couldn't be! Though he probably spoke no more than 20 words to me I had thought him to be extremely mature and eloquent and oh fuck it! He was 20 and thus relegated to the hands off pile. *sigh*
The nutcase next to me had started to giggle again and I had to resist the urge to pinch him. I felt like I should have been armed with a tranq gun and some zip ties. Don't get me wrong, I'm definitely attracted to weird but this fool was just annoying!

Shit! I have another appointment to go to, so I'm afraid the rest of this will have to wait til I get back. It's probably for the best since this is getting long as fuck. Loves you, Melody

Monday, January 26, 2009

Sometimes life Photoshops things for you...and saves you the trouble

So Regina found this photo of Casey looking FUCKED UP! Haha she also noticed that it looks alot like he's wearing fishnets...............hahahahahahahahahahahaaha.
He's not....I think haha. He has been known to do some ridiculous shit but I believe it's actually the chick's leg not his....although he did once dress up in my fishnets, bondage dress and Misfits heels to frighten away some Mormons........hmmmmmm...
He's way strungout in this pic and I'm fairly sure that going about in drag would be the last thing on his mind but one never knows.
That's all for now, I'll be back tomorrow or possibly tonight, XOXOXO, Melody

Friday, January 23, 2009

10 things you always wanted to know but were afraid to ask

This pic is completely irrelevant to this post but since it's amusing and also happens to be a product of the infamous Oildale I have mentioned in the past I deemed it worthy of gracing my latest masterpiece.

Ok, I know I've been promising the "Friday" story but I got tagged with an award and that seems to me an excellent reason to put it off another day. I usually don't go in for the whole tag thing but what the hell. I got tagged with the "Honest scrapper" award by Gledwood and Lucy and since I do adore my lil Lucy and Gled is quickly scaling my top ten I am gonna suppress my urge to be a lazy bitch and do this thing.
From what I could tell I'm supposed to do this and that but I'm slightly retarded so bear with me.
Ok 10 honest things about me hmmmmmmm............

1)I'm not a natural blonde. Shocking I know but it's true.

2)I despise clowns but am strangely attracted to the cartoon joker from Batman the animated series, Heath Ledger's version and the scrappy clown from the Fluorescent adolescent video.

3)I used to be deathly afraid of needles. Like crybaby kicking and screaming afraid........hehe ironic.

4)I'm basically a nice person and I'm hella easy to get along with...........I AM!

5)I donate $$ to the St. Jude's children's hospital....yeah I know, who woulda thought.

6)I think that Richard Ramirez is HOT!!!! but the fact that he raped senior citizens seriously grosses me out.....and I think it's hilarious that one of his victims was named Peter Pan....sorry but I do.

7)I play the guitar (badly) and was in probably the only band who had tons of groupies without ever having played a single show. Haha we were just awesome like that.

8)Contrary to popular belief I have never been arrested for soliciting or possession. I have also never been to prison, just county.

9)I'm a pushover for my friends and usually end up helping them even when I know I'm screwing myself.

10)I never really cry or feel sorry for myself but a wickedly sappy commercial will make me blubber like a 3 yr old. Figure that one out.

So that's it, I'm passing this along to k1tten for being honestly awesome in general and also being my future road dog....er k1tten.
To Kelley for being honest about what's really going on in her life and not being afraid to post about it.
Lilygirl, who will probably not get this til sometime next year (I love you LG) but is definitely worth an award for being amazingly cool, truthful and one of my favorite "waist up" girlfriends.
To everyone who didn't get tagged haha y'all dodged the bullet....this time. It doesn't mean I don't love you, it just means that I got irritated with having to copy and past links into this goddamn post.
I have another appt with my cunt psych tomorrow and I'm going to tell her exactly where she can put that stupid Cymbalta. After that I swear I will bang out the series of mind-boggle-ing events that was last Friday. Not to be a tease or anything (heheh yeah right) but I will tell you that I got a serious case of rug burn in the back of a 1973 Dodge "raper" van and no it's not what you think. Later on kids, I'll be back.........eventually. XOXO Melody Lee

Tuesday, January 20, 2009

The power of prayer

Ask and you shall receive! I was just whining about how I haven't gotten any negative comments in like FOREVER and presto, some fucktard left a steamy pile of smug douchebaggery for me to shovel through. Thank you Jesus!
I still feel like crap and a senseless rant is just the thing I need right now.

["Sooooooooo *long pause* Melody, what exactly is it you think I can help you with?"
Why does that bother you-- you know that you are beyond help. Actually, it sounds like the psych has you figured out real good. You do love to play the crazy fucked up loser and have made it your identity. Probably cause you're too scared to try to accomplish anything in life. You just don't realize how pathetic it is for an adult to act like a fucked up teenager. Do you plan to be 40 and act like this?]

Anon as usual you missed the point of that entire post. What I have been saying all along is that the fact that she (the psych)asks questions with NO intention of waiting for my answer...that is the issue. She should at least attempt a pretense of listening to what I'm saying. Me being beyond help is beside the point, when did I ever claim to be redeemable...or want to be for that matter?
I may be a loser but at least I'm not trolling the internet believing I have some kind of special insight and leaving inane ANONYMOUS comments. Why not try expressing your opinion without coming off like an embittered old fuck? What's wrong anon, was your mommy a junky and you just can't let it go? No? Let me guess, you're just a decent upstanding citizen speaking for the rest of the repressed masses? Or maybe you are *gasp* a sheisty quack of a psychiatrist who has gotten offended by my opinion of that particular profession?
You have a problem with my irresponsible actions and irrepressible need for adventure and I couldn't care in the least. That's the beauty of it all don't you see? I can act any way I please....and so can you for that matter. I just choose to be what I am ...and you choose to be a douchebag.
I don't have to pretend to be anything because I have nothing to lose by being myself and I just don't care enough about the status quo to try and do otherwise. I should think it would be much more offensive for me to be a hypocrite and play at being something I'm not. Believe me anon, the world has more than enough self satisfied assholes scurrying about, I don't think I need to add myself to that number. I may come off as an asshole most of the time but I'm a likable asshole, you are just an asshole. So I'm immature? So fucking what! Why don'tcha come over here and say that to my face you pussified assclown? Heheh......how's that for immature?
I've been in situations (legal and illegal)that would make people twice my age shit their pants. I'm not really afraid to try anything, I'm just apathetic about the so called "American dream" I'm supposed to be striving for.
Why the fuck should I work my ass off for something I don't even remotely want....or believe in for that matter? Just so I can be considered productive in the eyes of other self righteous windbags like yourself? I think not.
Also I'm not exactly living in the gutter, not that it would change my opinion if I was. Regardless of what I do and the things I get myself into I live pretty much like any other person, I pay bills, work and all that other shit, so you can stuff all that insight up your anus.
I'm having fun and I'm content which is probably more than you can say for yourself. I don't think you're very happy anon, I mean assholes like you give assholes a bad name. If you were truly secure you wouldn't have to search out conflict just to make yourself feel better. I know all about this for I am supposed to be as insecure as it gets! My clever witticisms allegedly mask an inferiority complex as big as it is vicious but unlike you I make it work for me.
All this bitterness is not good for you! I feel for the people who are forced to endure your superior attitude, mostly because you have nothing to feel superior about. I don't care if you are the most successful person on earth, you are still an asshole and nobody likes an asshole......unless the asshole happens to be me. *smirk*
Am I gonna be this way when I'm 40? Hmmm one can only hope. My worst fear is that by that time I'll have declined into a pompous shit for brains that believes that the whole world should be one safe little cookie cutter existence. God forbid!
I think if anything you're the one whose scared anon, scared to face the fact that as fucked up as I am I can still live and function without having to open myself up to the drudgery you "upstanding citizens" call your everyday life. You can't possibly be satisfied, if you were you wouldn't be so fired up about me and my nonsense.
You think I should find something more "adult" to occupy my time? Haha that's rich coming from someone who spends their time leaving lame comments on a blog. Do you know me because I could swear I've dealt with this particular brand of vitriolic commentary somewhere before....or maybe it's as I've always said, y'all are cut from the same anal retentive cloth and have started to sound alike as well.
Haha, I do feel a bit better now although this probably would have gone on for days had Regina not called and distracted me. She seems to be worried about me and this chick's pervo cousin becoming enamored of one another and jumping a plane to some unknown destination. HAHA that is so not gonna happen, he's just not my type of perv.
I'll clue everyone in on Friday's mayhem tomorrow after I get back from my EMG. Is it just me or is it extremely anti-climactic to get poked with needles and then feel NOTHING!! I hate that shit, my heart gets all fluttery and then they poke me and I'm left waiting for a sensation that is never gonna come. I've been a hype for too long, needle+me=high and anything less is a disappointment. Just like watching dope movies, I can't do that shit unless I'm loaded because it makes me edgy and expectant. Trainspotting and Drugstore Cowboy are like porn for junkies.
However I should be able to enjoy both those movies shortly......y'all know what I mean. I can't wait! It's been positively ages since I got to shoot anything better than Oxy and it's about damn time for some dope if you ask me.
Son of a bitch! Fat mike is currently shredding my new amp and no amount of pleading, shouting etc will get him to leave it the fuck alone! He is so freakin' cute I can't even stay angry at him, I guess the amp gets lugged to the garage.
Well anyway goodnight all, hugs and kisses galore til next we meet. XOXOXOXOXOXOX, Melody

Monday, January 19, 2009

Overstimulated and underappreciated

I have no earthly idea why the fuck I am still awake. I had a somewhat eventful Friday but......Ugh! One of the reasons I decided heroin was so choice was that in the beginning (before I got strung out) I could get high as fuck and then feel absolutely fine the next day. Not so with speed, it takes me days to get normal after one night.....or so. You are so right Kelley, we are indeed downer girls....but boredom is a motherfucker.
I could go into all the little details about what went on Friday night/morning but I haven't the presence of mind to do so right now. My inner story teller is on a bit of a hiatus, she's a moody cunt and has decided to hold my recent bout with the cryssy against me. So I'm gonna do what I do best, some misc bitching interspersed with random news of my less than interesting life.
First the bitching...heheh what a surprise. My bitch-cunt psych put me on Cymbalta. Words cannot describe the dislike I feel for that woman and her condescending ways...but I'll try anyway. I think what stands out the most about my last visit was when she looked down her nose at me and asked, "Sooooooooo *long pause* Melody, what exactly is it you think I can help you with?"
That asshole didn't even wait for an answer before she started uh-huh-ing me and scribbling notes on her stupid clipboard. Then she asked me how I did on the last crap she prescribed me. Uh clonodine and Elavil....? Hmmm how did I do on what amounts to blood pressure medicine and an anti-depressant older than my mother? Well the clonodine dropped my pressure so low I was having heart palpitations and that lame-ass 29th generation tricyclic made me twitch like a marionette with turret's! Not a pleasing combination and definitely not what I was looking for in a medication. I'm not particularly depressed and my blood pressure is just fine. For whatever reason she can't wrap her mind around the fact that I'm not suffering from some kind of depressive disorder. These days the only thing that makes me feel blah is the fact that I've been denied the pleasure of shooting H for months. *grumbling*
I'm supposed to be getting treated for anxiety and some other shit that makes them want to put me on anti-psychotics HAHAHAHAHAHA! I am so not psychotic! I have no idea why they think that, it started with the tray incident when I was in lockup and has plagued me ever since. I understand why my actions at that time might have been interpreted as a psychotic episode but come the fuck on! I had been on an INSANE run, shooting dope every day and/or taking methadone for YEARS and I do mean years! All that time with no break made for the most miserable withdrawl experience I have EVER been through. I had been guzzling methadone for months in an effort to lessen my habit, so when I got gaffled up I had to kick that shit cold.
Luckily I had been on self destruct mode for a few weeks and when they caught up with me I had eaten about 20mgs of Klonopin and done a crazy big shot. Seriously, it was the kind of shot that you know is too much even as you draw it up. I remember chewing K-pins while I was loading up the outfit thinking "shit the bed Loretta this is way too much dope"............and then sticking myself with it anyway. I was not really caring that day. I have a vague recollection of walking to Rite aid and then getting slung over a cop's shoulder. Then I was in an ambulance....then I was getting booked....then I woke up 3 days later when the COs were dragging my ass into the showers to get ready for court. The lucky part being that I slept through the first few days of my kick....too bad it lasted for 3 months.
I wish I could get a copy of my mugshot, I was so wasted that I had 3 cops holding me up, one on each arm and a third holding my head. It's fucking hilarious, you can see them in the shot and my eyes are rolled back in my head, I may even be drooling. Haha if I ever manage to get my hands on it I'll post it up.
Sorry. got carried away with my war story, back to the bitch-cunt psych. She ignored me as usual and then told me she thought I was suffering from several disorders but that in her opinion I enjoyed being afflicted. She said (in so many words)that I have been so batshit crazy for so long that it has become a huge part of who I am.
Hmmm she may be right for once though I don't really think I'm crazy.....but that's probably what a crazy bitch would say. A circular argument at best and I'm too burned out to pursue it right now.
I found my "sensitive" Casper on myspace and I'm happy about that. He commented some poetic nonsense on my myspace blog that basically amounted to telling the world that I made him into the junky mess he is now. Oh well, he's not gonna surprise anyone with that info, Bako is the kind of place where everybody knows your business...and loves to discuss it on a regular basis. They know all about me, Casper and everybody else.
I can only take credit for a small part of Christian's junky journey. I got him started and then pulled my usual bullshit and ditched him for Casey. We ended up selling to him and his misc girlfriends over the years and he and Casey are cool now. I was with Casper for maybe 6 months but it was long enough for him to decide that he wanted to be as retarded as I was and shoot some dope. After much whining and pleading I gave in and the rest is Bako junk history. Now he's as big a Dopefiend as I ever was and he talks like a character out of a W.S. Burroughs novel. I think this is ridiculously funny and tell him so, he also has a fixation with Johnny Thunders but that's cool 'cause The New York Dolls were the shit. I do think the J.T. is a lil (ALOT) whiny though, shh don't tell Cas, his sensitive nature couldm't take another betrayl.
So yeah, I miss Christian and it worries me to see him look so wrung out and skinny but what can I do? He's my friend and I love him, we have history together. His family thinks I'm the devil.....can't say I blame them. As far as his mom is concerned not only did I wreck his heart, I ruined his life....yep, that sounds like me at 17. Hell, it kinda sounds like me now. Nah, I'm way more responsible about shit now. I AM!
I think Regina is gonna make the trip with us as far as Cali, she wants to go to Bako and look up friends and enemies alike. It should be interesting to say the least. Reg has rage issues and will probably start shit with half the town....as usual. After that we're gonna head to LA and Ventura and maybe go see Jerry, then she'll fly back to Washington.
I got a call from Anna last night, she told me she's packed and ready to leave....to come here. I'm happy and I really want to see her but her kids are like a 3 ring circus. She has an 11 yr old son who has grown into a serious discpline problem. I love the kid but he's a prick and I swear I will drop him in the desert if he pisses me off. I've been getting taunted with auntie Melody comments from all sides and Casey has enjoyed reminding me that I will be suckered into babysitting on a regular basis. UGH! I will too, I know it.
I feel like sheeeeeiiiiiiittt! Wow, this is not going to end anytime soon, I feel it in my aching bones. I am going to be feeling like crap and acting like a sawed off cunt for at least another day.
I have to go in for an EMG on Wednesday, my doc tells me that I have somehow acquired peripheral neuropathy and since I'm not diabetic or HIV positive they need to do some tests to figure it out. I got another pint of blood taken and they ran the usual panel and came up with jack. I'm disease free and everything is working as it should. So this tingly thing is either idiopathic or I have some unknown degenerative nerve disorder. SWEET! Maybe I can look forward to a facial tick and incontinence sometime in the distant future. Sexy!
On the upside, I hear you get some choice meds for that shit and if I'm gonna spend my twilight years twitching and pissing myself I may as well do it loaded on Dilaudid and Oxy. HAHAHA, see I'm not depressed! I think that this is a very positive way of looking at things.
That psych can go get fucked where she breathes, I will NOT be taking the Cymbalta! I checked with some of my junky underground and heard nothing but horror stories connected to it. It sounded way too close to what happens when I take Seroquel...NO THANK YOU! If I want to feel like I have a hellacious case of cotton fever I will do it the old fashioned way.
So enough of this, I'll leave y'all now. I'm gonna go eat a few percs and try and pass out. I'll post Friday's meth moron-a-thon next time, I'm spent. Love to ya kids, Melody.

Tuesday, January 13, 2009

Ghouls night out

So here I am....sober,loaded and everywhere in between. I don't think it's too difficult to figure out which is which but since I've been told that I look lit in all my photos here's a hint.....the one with me nodded on the kitchen floor, yeah I was totally fucked up by that point and no I'm not the one who decided to unzip the hoodie. Thanx guys.
The show was pretty decent, at least what I remember of it heheh. They didn't have that douchebag Graves singing, it was actually Glen. I guess him and Jerry buried the hatchet long enough to cash in even more than they have already. The Misfits are second to none when it comes to being marketing whores....okay maybe Kiss then the Misfits.
Anyway, there I was ....and here I go. How profound pfffft! I'm bored and the Xanax I had is gone and I want some H and wah wah wah. Whatever.
I'm seriously contemplating a trip to Chimayo this weekend but it's probably a bad idea. I'll go and come back with an insane amount of dope and get sprung all over again. I don't have a problem with being strung out, I have a problem with being strung out and my only connect is 3+ hours away. That could be an issue.
Fat Mike has decided that he will only shut his little kitty trap when we set him up on our shoulders. He balances up there and goes to sleep. If you try and move him he squeals and tries to climb back up on his own. I am covered in microscopic kitten scratches. Casey has given up on trying to play warcraft with kitty in the room hahahahahaha kitty hates that lame ass game as much as I do.
Sent my guy a message and will hopefully have some news soon, I neeeeeeds to get high....LIKE NOW!!!
So a fond farewell kids, I'll be back to bitch about something or other sooner or later. XOXOXOX Melody Lee & Fat Mike *snoozing on shoulder*
Christ, the longer I look at these photos the more I think that I was just one step away from a full blown flock of seagulls haha, now that woulda been something to see!

Saturday, January 10, 2009

Fat Mike joins the family

OK, so I got my kitty. Casey paid the fees and I went down to the shelter to pick one out. It was kinda shitty 'cause once I got in there I wanted to take all of them home. I'm a sucker like that shh, don't tell anyone.
So the shelter had absolutely nothing to put my new kitty in for the ride home, they were out of carriers.I ended up having to drive with one hand and juggle kitty with the other. He was pretty chill but started to spazz out a little....until I turned the stereo on and fate stepped in.
The CD was NOFX and the song was "Don't call me white" which calmed him down when I started singing it to him. Obviously the song isn't about a black cat or even a black guy for that matter but in my infinite wisdom I decided to take the title as literally as possible and presto, my new kitty is named Fat Mike (guy from NOFX). Casey says it doesn't matter what I name him because I'll just end up calling him kitty anyway.
He's probably right.
So here are some pics of Casey and Fat Mike. I had to make them B&W so you could actually see the kitty. For whoever it is that's bummed about the questionable clarity of Casey's face in photos: You try and get his drunk ass to sit still. It's not some conspiracy to keep y'all from getting a good look at him, he's just a primadonna about having his photo taken. He says he feels lame and what can I say to that? No babe don't feel lame, now make with the sexy poses please.
Enjoy the pics, I got Cody to send me some of the shots he took of me before and after the Misfits show and I'll probably post some later....y'all get to see me and my platinum devil lock. Oh the anticipation!
Love you, Melody &Fat Mike

Tuesday, January 6, 2009

I'm not really crazy, I'm just eccentric.....and brilliant.

Damn that was one deep dive into my fucked up psyche wasn't it? Don't worry, it doesn't happen too often, I blame an excess of shrooms, wine, percs etc for my lapse into "deep thinker" mode. I was also listening to Christian Death for 2 days straight...pretty sure that didn't help either. I love C.D., that's why I'm gonna leave it on my default a bit longer, so y'all can enjoy it with me haha.
I wonder if digging C.D. makes me a hypocrite? I wonder if I care? Regina has accused me of being a closet emo-goth lesbian (ugh emo) on several occasions....I think she just wants to get in my pants hahahaha.
I have an unfortunate affection for The Killers and she sees it as a personal affront. What can I say, their latest album excluded, I do indeed love The Killers, how current of me. Brandon Flowers is a pontificating jackass but so am I, maybe that's the attraction
I also have an un-natural love for ABBA so I guess I can burn my music snob membership card right now. Eh it was good while it lasted.
Anyway, it's my nature to try and make light of things that I would rather not go into but.....the things I wrote in my last post were...are absolutely true. I miss them every day and it's a double edged sword to see them in dreams and then wake up to lose them all over again. So cheerful....
Anyway, today I am strawberry ice cream and I'm gonna exploit that and be even MORE brilliant than usual. I am brilliant.....just in case y'all hadn't figured that out yet heheh. I could be all melted by tomorrow, so today is all I get.
Now that I'm mobile I....we have been thinking of taking a cross country junky adventure. A fellow junkster girlie and myself have decided we will start on the West Coast and zigzag towards the East, hitting up every contact we know on the way.
Casey calls it my Dopefiend underground railroad haha so true. We are gonna document the whole trip on paper and film, possibly 8mm to give it that grimy 70's home movie feeling. Oh and positively zillions of pics. It will be the junkie's guide to North America or some such shit. We'll figure out a clever title when and if we complete our trip. I have a feeling that we might have a bit of a problem...you know, living through it and all but I'm up for the challenge.
I also realize that slamming our way across America is a little ambitious but we are both pretty confident in our abilities and with enough confidence you can rule the world...or at least shoot your way around it.
Casey is NOT impressed! He made a smart assed remark about us "banging" our way through our lil adventure and I don't think he meant dope. HAHA,I would NEVER!EV-ER!
This is quite possibly the worst and most genius idea I have ever come up with, if I live through it will have been totally worth it and if I don't, it'll be too late to care anyway.
Nihilistic? Fatalistic? I don't think I'm either of those things, for me to try and pull those off would be way too contrived and a big hassle to boot. I'm too lazy to keep up the charade, it'd be like trying to play vegan while snarfing down McDonald's on the sly. HAHA I love McMurders (obscure vegan-ish reference).
I'll keep y'all posted as the plans develop. My Russian friends could probably add to the fun and then we could hit TJ as well. The big problem being that the communist despises heroin........hence the kidnapped to rehab episode.They dig coke though....hmmmm, something to think about.
I finally got the lame-o camera to read so I'll up some pics now and then. Can't have too many random pics of random bullshit.
Bye bye babies, Love me...I promise I'll love you back. xoxo Melody

Sunday, January 4, 2009

The dead come out at night

Well not every night but pretty regularly. If I dream I see them, all my friends, the ones who are gone. Sometimes I dream weird, random scenes but mostly it's them.
We are always in some in-between place that I've never been to but seem to recognize in bits and pieces.......bits and pieces of my life. Places I've lived,passed through or just vaguely remember. It's all stiched together... cut and paste, a Frankenstein nightmare....of my memories.
They exist in this purgatory and it's a world all it's own, it has streets and domiciles. Rooms upon rooms filled with scattered remembrances, insignificant trifles that become frighteningly meaningful if I gaze at them long enough.
I see the Saint Michael candles I gave Mikey when he got his first apartment, the Hello Kitty radio Ash kept in her motel room, the books Sarah left in my car years and years ago. It makes no sense at all and all the sense in the world.
Walking down a dirt road towards a lighted window, knowing that someone is waiting for me. The house is familiar, our old place on Monterey but when the door swings open it's a room at the Tower. It smells the same, cigarettes and smack, the TV on with the volume down....some song I can't make out playing on the radio...Ash's radio.
Mikey walks out of the bathroom and smiles at me and it's like he'd never gone...only he has. I hug him and we sit on the bed and talk, I recall nothing but the fact that we talk and laugh and I miss him terribly, even as I see him sitting beside me.
Suddenly outside and the dirt road is replaced by the parking lot behind the Padre. We're walking to Ripper's, I've made this trip a million times but it's different somehow. The street signs are blurry, everything is out of focus. The harder I try to make it out the hazier it gets.
We see Sara and she walks with us, saying she's headed to Rip's as well. After a few blocks she puts her hand on my shoulder and stops me, "You can't tell anyone about this, you know that don't you?" She's looking into my eyes...so earnest, almost pleading, "You'll only hurt them if you do."
Tell them what? I'm confused, the dread starting to knot my gut, I know I'm not going to like this.
She's telling me they're all there, living in this in-between place, living in old memories and forgotten occurrences. Not dead...not alive...truly in limbo. Not because they had done wrong but because that's where they...we belong....all of us....eventually.
I look to Mikey for confirmation, he gives me a sad smile, nods his head then looks away.
Turning, I see my sweet baby Ron run across the street towards us. He throws his arms around me and I start to cry.
Ron my beautiful boy, my 19yr old baby, like a little brother, gone for more years than I care to remember. He looks the same...smiles the same smile, wipes my tears and asks what he can do to make me feel better....sounds the same...the same sweet kid. My angel faced boy, that innocent face hiding the mind of a born hustler but he was my baby bro and had a good heart.
I've missed him so much it hurts to look at him but I won't look away, afraid that if I do he'll disappear. I love him like a kid brother, he may as well be my flesh and blood...I love him... my own private tragedy.
I smile and mourn.
He takes my hand and it's like the years melt away, I feel his fingers twine through mine, so real...so warm...so familiar...so alive.
It's a lie.
My Ronnie is gone away...just like Sara and Mikey, just like Ash and Ripper...just like all the others.....
We wander through the dream scape and I see it shift, swirling into new locals with every step. Our destination is the same but we travel a far different path than any I have ever taken. Sara's arm through mine, my hand clutching the deceptive security of Ron's hand, Mikey slightly ahead.....we walk.
I see Sammy working in the old shop on Chester and I know that Ash is somewhere out there as well, I can feel her....I can feel them all. Such sweet devastation and I don't care, I'll bear it just to have them near me again.
The dream ends before we reach our goal but it doesn't matter, it was never about the destination, it was about the journey. The time I spent in the presence of my long gone babies.
I wake up,tears on my cheeks, I can still smell the scent of Sara's perfume and feel the strength of Ron's hand in mine....Mikey's arms hugging me goodbye, almost tangible...almost.
One long convoluted trip but my fondest hope is to go back, to see their faces once more. The not quite dead.
It's all a lie, a glitch in my subconscious.....something I've created to keep them fresh in my mind and ever closer to my heart. I'm deceiving myself on some basic level and I don't care. It's all I have of them and I'll take whatever I can get, that single, hideous lie is better than a million beautiful truths.
I feel like I've cheated, like I dodged a bullet I so deserve....I should be there, alongside them. They weren't perfect but they were mine. Most of them better people than I will ever be...yet they're gone and here I sit.
Content to be worthless...proud to be hopeless and without an once of shame for the things I've done. Irony hangs thick in the air this night.
I'm thinking about the whys and what ifs...something I rarely do. Hindsight is an insidious form of guilt, it sneaks up on you ....and guilt is a useless emotion.
Guilt will get you nowhere, it changes nothing....damages more than it heals. It promotes self loathing and uncertainty...self pity. Misspent energy....rehashing events that have come and gone, look to the future. As a people we rarely learn from our mistakes, we're stupid that way.
So says me as I hope against hope that I will dream of in-between places and the not quite dead. I'm a contradiction, possibly an abomination and I don't care...all that and more, I'll take it....make it mine, make it work for me. Make you love me for it or hate me all the more, you decide...never any middle ground with me.
The people who know me in real life will read this and recognize it for what it is, see me for what I've always been. Adored...abhorred, two sides of the same coin...flip it, see what you feel for me today...
A place I love, where half the denizens prize me and the other half despise me......but either way they all know my name. Not a pretty sentiment but honest....always honest.
Profound nonsense but I record it anyway lest tomorrow wash it from my mind, I need to remember. It's not funny, it's not entertaining and it's surely not clever, it is what it is, it is what I am...for the moment.
A fantastic disaster in love with a hideous lie.

Thursday, January 1, 2009

Don't we look cute?

This was how excited Casey was when he found out my mom got me a car for my birthday..............I wonder why he looks so pained? It couldn't be because he's afeared I will run amok...more than usual hehe. He'll get over it, I'm basically a very good girl....basically.
I'll post a pic of it eventually, my camera is being tempermental. My mom took this photo at the hotel right after she presented me with the keys. You can see I'm being very understanding of his dilema by the way I'm laying my head on his chest...to hide the HUGE smile on my face! No need to make him feel worse. Happy New Year fuckers, hope y'all had a fan-freakin-tastic New Years Eve.
That's all for now, oh and I LOVE YOU MOMMY!!!!!!XOXOXO Melody