Saturday, May 30, 2009

My neighbor is a dildo because....

My neighbor is a dildo because:

1)He has two beautiful doggies who he pays very little attention to and who also happen to be canine escape artists for lack of regular human contact.

2)In lieu of actual pet care and vigilance, he has opted to install a barbaric electric hot wire which has resulted in the carnage featured above.

3)I am now constantly worried that Fat Mike will get his little kitty nads fried in the damn thing and if that happens I will forcibly insert said hot wire into dildo neighbors asshole and pull it out of his nose.....right before I hook it up to R-man's stupid Escalade and gun the engine!

Now to be perfectly honest, I dislike birds immensely but that doesn't mean I want to see them vibrating on my fence. It's gross!
I am first and foremost concerned with the well being of my cat and then with the fact that the dogs look and act like they are being held in a concentration camp. If you don't have the time for pets, don't own any, it's as simple as that.
I suppose I'm not in too much of a position to criticize seeing as how the last few cats I had were feline dopefiends. I'm not too sure how that came into being but I think the fact that my hands were always covered in dope might have had something to do with it. At any given time I could have easily scraped a 20 bag of tar out from under my fingernails ( I did this once when I was sick and in jail), and the skin on my fingertips was always peeling off from the constant contact with whatever chemicals were in that crap.Sexy shit right? Hahahaha, it was worth it!
Not just my hands but Casey's and whoever happened to be running bags for us as well, basically everyone the kitties came in contact with was smearing H all over them and all over everything else. It got to where every time I came back with a new stash the cats would try to climb up our legs when we fixed or jump on the plates while we were making bags. Our cat Sleazy used to steal bags and cottons, she would chew on discarded plastics too.
Considering that most animals will drool and gag when confronted by the taste of dope, I guess this made her a very determined kitty-addict. It sounds crazy I know but if I was going to fabricate something, I think I could do a little better than smack pilfering cats.
So I took these pics this morning on special request from k1tten, morbid little thing, and decided to post 'em up for y'all. Enjoy...
XOXO Melody
P.S. I hope people can appreciate my choice of default music and if you can't then you need to lighten the fuck up hahahaha. Oh course it isn't three little birds...yet.

Friday, May 29, 2009

Quick music note

Have you ever wondered what it would sound like if Phil Spector ate The Shangrilas and Buddy Holly, then puked them up on The Jesus and Mary Chain? Well wonder no longer and take a listen to The Raveonettes. Oh and I mean puked in the nicest possible way, The Raveonettes get 5 out of 5 golden arms in my book!
I suppose if I'm going to use a rating system at all, it should be less obscure but come on people, Nelson Algren...Golden Arm, that should be enough of a hint, he has an award named after him for fuck sake! Just...look it up.

Thursday, May 28, 2009

Give a monkey a laptop...

...and it will write you 10,000 word dissertation on the science of flinging feces. It may be informative but it will not be the least bit readable and it will definitely not be entertaining...unless you happen to be a monkey.
I have no problem with people taking offense at my uh...unique point of view, in fact I encourage it because it gives me something to snigger at. It also presents me with the opportunity to argue my case and since I LIVE to bitch, well you know...
My main issue with these rants is that they are so poorly executed that I lose focus after two paragraphs. I find my mind wandering and it's extremely disappointing! How the fuck am I supposed to absorb the full effects of the criticism if their diatribe reads like stereo instructions? It's offensive! Much more offensive than the actual insult.
I find myself wishing that this person had payed a bit more attention during English class or at least taken a 3 hour course in creative writing. How can I be expected to come up with a serious rebuttal when my opponent has the reading comprehension of an 8 yr old orangutang? It's hard to take it to heart when the person insulting you may be technically retarded. I find it beyond boring that these people always fall back on the same tired old insults. Whore, junky, deviant....DUH!!! At least I'm not an illiterate mongoloid.
Do something original and tell me what a narcissistic cunt I am for writing page after page of bullshit about myself! Mention my smug self assurance that comes from a ridiculous sense of entitlement and self delusion. Bring up the fact that I'm an indulgent brat and that I am basically a waste of space. Really, I'm of no use to anyone and barely of any use to myself, these things aren't difficult to figure out...unless you happen to be a technically retarded baboon.
Make it funny and clever, something that makes me giggle even though I know it's all about me. It should be witty and sarcastic and a joy to read, not something that makes an insurance pamphlet seem titillating by comparison. Make us laugh, it's not that hard and ....fuck it.
*sigh* I suppose it's no use and if I have to tutor someone on the fine art of talking shit, that takes all the fun out of it. Being the useless creature that I am, I have no time for that, I am much too busy doing nothing to take time out of my day to teach the value of comedy and irony to a mentally deficient chimp.
I am going to end this now as I have pressing business to attend to, I must finish writing about my last tweeker adventure and I must also make some random phone calls to the junky underground in preparation for my trip. After that, I may or may not take some pills and I am seriously contemplating another visit to Espanola. I have almost a week clean and it's just my style to go and fuck that all up just because I can. Anna might come unglued if I do this, so it needs careful consideration...
Give a junky a laptop and she will write you a 10,000 word dissertation on the science of flinging feces.....but at least it'll be entertaining.
Melody Lee signing out.

Wednesday, May 27, 2009

Uh-Oh, it's Josh again.........

A quick song dedication to Josh, who despite having betrayed me to Gabriel the psychotic pet reaper is still on my 'I love you' list.
I'm glad I got to talk to you this morning babe and I really do forgive you...even if you are an insufferable douche 80% of the time. So this time I will set the song you used to play for me on default and not follow it with a scathing commentary on your shortcomings. See, I'm not a heartless cunt but I still think the song is unbearably sappy. This kicking business always gets the better of me as far as emotions are concerned and I'm having a hard time keeping them in check. God help me but listening to this song is making me smile...a very sappy smile...ugh! Who the fuck is this person? Certainly not me!
I love you J-Dog *snicker* but if you are even thinking about calling me back and serenading me via the phone, I WILL hunt you down and put you in the ground! There, that sounds a bit more like me don't it? I refuse to be a muse for the retarded any longer!
This one's for you Josh baby, All My Little Words.

P.S. I love you too Eddie and you are not nearly as big a hosebag as Big Daddy J. *snort*

Tuesday, May 26, 2009

Lost in an episode of Breaking Bad Part 1

The road to Coyote and Espanola.

Sweet bearded Moses, who slipped the Adderall in with my Percocet and what hell was I even going on about last night? I think I must have been in some heightened state of delirium because my previous post reads like something out of a Valerie Solanas manifesto. I did NOT shoot Andy Warhol! Not only do I sound seriously gakked but a bit deranged as well. Hahaha, I don't give the slightest fuck. The truth is that I stand by everything I wrote, even if it does sound somewhat unbalanced.
A few hours ago I was on the phone with k1tten and got an aborted call from Rainman. I did NOT feel like leaving the house under any circumstances, especially since I have been laying about stewing in my own sweat while the dope bleeds out of my system. Leaving the house would require taking a shower and trying to arrange myself into some semblance of order. While complaining of this to K1tty-girl, the line flashed again and instead of doing the sensible thing (I NEVER do the sensible thing), I answered it.
I was confronted by Adrian and his oh-so-convincing argument that I must leave the house and go trotting around the desert with him and R-man. *sigh* I gave a non committal answer and told him to call me back when they were a bit more certain of their destination. It was 3am for fucks sake!
I then got a call from Regina and we must have spent a good hour on the phone when I mentioned to her that I had left the back door open (for Fat Mike), and that I thought I heard tweekers invading the backyard...I was joking but it turned out to be prophetic as Adrian and Rainman strolled casually into the room. I silently cursed Fat Mike for his recent refusal to use the litter box (he now prefers the outdoors), which had resulted in my leaving the back door ajar.
I'm sure I looked beyond fetching as I sat on the couch in my smelly Adverts shirt and a pair of Casey's boxers. My hair was plastered to my skull and I had the phone stuck to my ear while Regi went on about something or other. I was unable to concentrate seeing as how Ade had plopped his delicious self next to me.
He looked much like he always does, that is to say he looked absolutely...edible. Damnable child! In my current frame of mind how am I supposed to deal with something like that? A kid who smiles at me with the seductive sweetness of the devil himself, even when I'm laying there like an unwashed lump of dung.
I did my best to ignore him and waited until Regi hung up before I turned to talk to the offending tweekers...uh tweeker, Ade is not offensive at all, Rainman on the other hand...
Summoning up the attitude that is usually my constant companion, I asked them what the hell they were doing in my living room. R-man burbled something incomprehensible and flapped his hand in my direction, he was much too busy sorting through my CDs to spare valuable tweeker minutes and answer my question. I turned back to Adrian and got another deadly smile and, "We're here for you of course." Of course.
I tried to gather myself as best I could and then informed them that I was going nowhere without showering first, I was hoping that this might persuade them that I was not worth the wait. Unfortunately Rainman was becoming intimate with my media collection and had no problem with my statement. He would be entertained for hours if need be. AAAAARGH!
I slunk toward the bathroom and took a shower. I made sure to take my sweet-ass time applying the necessary products to body,hair and face in the hopes that they might get irritated and take their leave. No such luck.
I one last look in the mirror and saw my signature raccoon eyes staring back. I immediately felt better and realized that my confidence level rises and falls in accordance to the amount of black eyeliner I smear on. Interesting. By the time I'm forty I'll probably look like Al Jolson in The Jazz Singer, "My mammy...."
A towel is not the ideal outfit for walking past Adrian but I do what I must heheh. I went into the bedroom and got dressed as quietly as possible, not wanting to wake Casey. He was tossing and turning and had a fit of machine-gun sneezes as I was sneaking out the door. Feeling somewhat responsible, I woke him up, shoved a few Percocet down his throat to ease the encroaching sickness and told him I was going for a ride with R-man. Casey gave me a disgusted look and pulled the pillow over his head, oh the pain of dismissal!
I made sure Fat Mike was safely ensconced in his kitty tower and locked the door behind us. It had not been easy prying Rainman away from my CDs/DVDs but we managed. I was unthrilled to see the lowered disco-mobile parked at the curb....UGH! I made up my mind then and there that I was NOT going to do any speed and I was NOT going to let Adrian get to me. Riiiiight. The usual tweeker madness ensued as we drove down the street, R-man juggled the pipe, one hand on the we cruised past police headquarters ( the tri cop residence ), on the corner. *sigh*
OK this is obviously going to take way too long and since I already favored y'all with my 20,000 word dissertation on guilt, I will do this in 2 parts. Besides, I need to smoke in the worst way and Casey is a TOTAL fascist when it comes to smoking in the house. I don't want to endure one of his spasticated seizures, so I will drag my ass outside and be back later, I promise.
XOXO Melody

Monday, May 25, 2009

The usual rules do not apply to me as I am perfect and therefore never wrong...

Who says there's no rest for the wicked?

I have been trying hard to spew forth a story involving Butch and various other characters from past and present but these things take time and although I have nothing but....I am lazy. I can say that with a total lack of shame because I gave up caring what people thought of me a long time ago, anyone who doesn't like me can go get fucked. I'm no closer now than I ever was to gnawing through my wrists in despair because someone *gasp* didn't like me. Sorry kids, it just ain't gonna happen.
I have been running the gamut as far as emotions go and yes I do have emotions. I am not the sociopath I have been accused of being. I feel pain and anguish just like everybody else does, I just have a quicker recovery time. The fact that I have stepped as far from guilt as is humanly possible probably helps, people would be astonished to learn how thoroughly guilt effects every other emotion. It's like liquor with a heroin chaser, to be avoided at all costs and if you persist in using it, it WILL eventually kill you.
Guilt will make any sorrow increase 100 fold. Guilt will make a seemingly happy person almost manic with the need to keep it at bay.....but to no avail. It will be there waiting to crush them at the most inopportune moment. Usually when they need it the least and it can cause the most trauma to an already delicate psyche.
Now above I mentioned people "using" guilt and that is exactly what I meant. In the traditional sense, one might use guilt against another person to further your own ends but that is not my meaning at all. I am going to expose something far more sinister than the ever popular and OVER abused guilt trip...oh yes. The guilt crutch.
The guilt crutch is what happens when a person has suffered traumatic experience(s) and cannot stop blaming themselves. It goes way beyond what would be called mourning or even hindsight. These people have crippled themselves so badly that their guilt has turned into a crutch, a crutch they NEED in order to shift that handicapped psyche from one place of pain to the next. It becomes an excuse to avoid change and acceptance, a subconscious excuse but an excuse just the same.
They will use this crutch as a sort of twisted conscience, a demonic and misshapen Jimminy Cricket whispering doubts and insecurities in their ear. Reminding them of previous tragedies with a malevolent, "Remember what happened last time....?" It will try and disguise itself as foresight but it is not so. Foresight is the twin of Hindsight and Hindsight is perhaps the most insidious form of guilt imaginable.
Hindsight creeps up on you disguised as memory and nostalgia and it waits. It waits until you are unsuspecting and vulnerable and then it kneecaps you, furthering need of the crutch. Hindsight is Guilt's chief enforcer.
Now before I go any further, I want to make it clear that most people who are crippled by guilt are not cognizant of that fact. They may not even realize that guilt is the root of their issues, they may even think that they are simply unhappy or depressed. It is up to others to (gently), apprise them of their situation and do whatever they can to help them overcome it. If that doesn't work and depending on how close you are to the person, it may be time for some plain speaking.
I have no problem telling Anna I think she's being a retard when it comes to some of the things relating to Butch. I love her therefore I hold nothing back. I will never say anything to purposely hurt her but I will tell her I think she's being an idiot if that is in fact how I feel and I expect the same from her. It's not being heartless, it's being honest to a dear friend who has lost her way and I'll be damned if I sit back and watch her cripple herself in a fit of hindsight and what ifs. No one deserves one.
As a mater of fact, she may be reading this right now and if she is, "I love you Anna, stop being a retard!" She is too good to be an emotional cripple and I damn well know that scrappy ass Anna Banana don't need no fucking crutch! Unless it's to crack you over the head with it!
I'm sure I'll get some know it all anon who will try to tell me that my use of drugs and Heroin in particular is as big a crutch as guilt and to this I say, "Who the fuck asked you?"
To ward off any such comments I will address that now :

Drugs can be the biggest crutch in the world to some people, just like religion is to others (they don't call it the opiate of the masses for nothing), and even AA or NA can become more of a crutch than a support system. Anything can be applied, but not everything can cause the harm that Guilt is capable of. Drugs can wreak havoc, we all know that but I still maintain that it is not so much the Heroin as it is the lifestyle it leads to that brings harm. It is the things we do in pursuit of it that cause destruction.
I have no need for crutches, I am more than capable of walking on my own. I have no need to escape any past or present realities, I am not running from myself. This is who I am and I refuse to apologize for it, anyone who is uncomfortable with it can walk away and never look back. My choices, bad or otherwise are not dictated by some inner drive to forget. I make my own choices and live with the consequences, they are not a fate worse than death. Anyone who is thinking of spouting tired NA platitudes in my direction need not bother, I'm quite familiar with them and have no desire to hear/read them again. But if you must you must.........I AM a comment whore after all.
So I'm not really sure where this is going other than it gave me an opportunity to talk about myself, which I LOVE and a chance to try and dislodge the stranglehold that guilt has over 90% of the population. Let it go my loves, it's not worth it.
XOXO, Melody Lee
Isn't it funny that I am never too lazy to blather on about some random topic when the mood strikes me?

Friday, May 22, 2009

The long weekend starts now.

 The Murder Junkies played the night after Butch's funeral. The tattoo Anna got in memory of Butch>>.

Well I'm still alive. I have been on one hell of a run and that combined with the recent loss of Butch has made me lethargic and unable to concentrate on the computer long enough to write anything worthwhile. I'm kicking as of today and that usually kicks my muse in the ass, if nothing else, I will be posting reams of foul tempered, opinionated craaaaaap, so that's something I suppose.
I just did my last shot and I already feel the panic kicking in, you would think that I would sit back and savor it but nooooooooooooo. I have to dwell on the fact that by this time tomorrow I will wish I were dead. Oh well, it's no big thang and it will be over soon...even if it seems like every minute lasts an ETERNITY!!! I got my refill of Percocet and and higher dose of Neurontin, so it won't be too bad, just irritating.
In the last month I have driven over 4,000 miles back and forth to Espanola and it's time to take a break. It has been dreamy but my habit has increased by leaps and bounds, where I used to stay wasted all day off a tiny shot, it now takes a ridiculous amount for me to catch a nod. We have been going through about a G a day and it's getting crazy expensive. For the first time in my life I am reluctant to liquidate everything I own for the sake of H. Could it be maturity and responsibility rearing their ugly heads at last? Pffft, doubtful!
I have some photos taken on the long road to Espanola and I will undoubtedly post those in short order. I may even delve back into the past and pull out some more of my ever amusing war stories...perhaps something involving Butch. I miss that motherfucker something fierce....
Anna has had something resembling a nervous breakdown following the news of his death, she is slowly but surely regaining her wits but it will definitely take some time. I think getting the memorial tattoo helped her accept that he was gone. I haven't been much help to her seeing as how alot of her distress revolves around a crisis of faith (she's catholic), and my views on God, death etc are far from comforting. I don't really understand, I'm extremely comforted by my idea of God but that's me. I refuse to believe that God has nothing better to do than punish people for meaningless indescretions. Has anyone ever seriously thought about how utterly stupid it sounds to say that someone is condemned to eternal damnation....for saying God damn it? It is beyond preposterous and I truly think that a deity has more pressing matters to deal with than serial blasphemy.
Anyway, I won't get started in that direction, I'm sure the last thing anyone wants is a 10,000 word rant on organized religion and the stupidity thereof.
To answer some of my comments,

~The guy in the photo with Butch is the lead singer from DOA.

~The "Ho" is still here and I have no plans of vacating anytime soon.

~Richie is currently in a men's home but will be completing his program in the next couple months. He got a year and a year, as did Eric. I can't wait to see them when they get out. Haha, mah babies!

So I think that's it for now, I need to try and get some enjoyment out of this last poke and it ain't gonna happen while I'm sitting in front of the computer. Love ya kids, your Melody Lee, after all who else would have me?

Tuesday, May 5, 2009

Die when you die.....R.I.P. Butch.

Our friend Butch died from an H OD last night. He was Casey's best friend and one of mine as well. Butch had the distinction of being the one who introduced me to G.G. Allin and Confederacy of Scum bands when I was just a pain in the ass kid. He was a good friend and a great person and he will be mourned and missed by alot of people.
Goodbye Butch, we love you.

Friday, May 1, 2009

Decisions, decisions....

The Kern County, California, Sheriff's Department orders plain white
patrol units and has the graphics applied locally. In this case, what they
ordered was not quite what they got.

This car was driven for 1 week before an officer noticed what the
graphics company employee did on the passenger side of the car.The employee
did this on his last day working for the graphics company before he retired.

I now have proof that the cops back home in Bako are both vicious and stupid! Vindication is sweeeet!I had a few people question the authenticity of my narrow escapes from the law in Kern County and this should shut them the fuck up! Not that I care if they believe me or not, for all intents and purposes their poor opinion of me counts for shit and it will never effect my day to day life.
Anyway, I'm feeling better today......but today is payday. I'm going to try extra hard to resist the urge to haul ass to Espanola to score more dope. That skunk shit was disgusting but I know how I am and I tend to ignore common sense when I feel like shit and have cash in hand. Of course I tend to ignore common sense anyway, it's a recurring theme in my life. I know I shouldn't do these things, I just don't give a fuck.
I managed to eat 90 percocet in 3 days, my liver is probably paying the price for that one. I have slept maybe 15 hours since Sunday and I know if I don't pass out today, I will cash my check and look the fuck out!
Adrian called last night and tried to sweet talk me out of the house, I swear to Christ, if these guys get any younger I'll be going to a high school prom sometime in the future.
Casey is becoming more and more disenchanted with Adrian, I think it's the fact that Ade is an H baby. Richie was deemed (relativly) harmless because he didn't use smack and I suppose Casey thought that I could handle myself with him. Ade is a hellacious junky and due to bad wiring, I am insanely attracted to junky fuck ups. Eh, I don't really want to go into all that shit right now. I have managed to keep my pants on this long and I will continue to do so.
I also got a call from Rainman early this morning,he is requesting my presence for some thing or other and is calling back with the details. I don't think I should go, especially if Adrian is going to tag along. I have little to no patience right now and I since I like the kid, I don't want to break a foot off in his ass over something stupid. I am always so charming when I get to this stage of a kick, I am irresistible haha.
Espanola or Rainman's mysterious errand...hmmmmm, which one, which one? Neither? Both? I should stay the hell home and get normal, or as normal as I get anyway.
I will probably be outta here before the clock strikes 3, as it is the exact wrong thing to do, it stands to reason that I will be doing it as soon as possible.
Espanola on a Friday night is the worst possible place to be, the cops are rabid and the streets are packed with lowriders. *sigh* I should go to sleep, or try to anyway. Unplug the phone and do my best to ignore the door, riiiiiight.
And the phone rings as if on cue, to answer or not to answer? Fuck! R-man wants to come get me in 45 and I have given him a tentative yes, he is to call back in 15 min. Speed is baaaaad for withdrawals, it makes you feel so much worse.
I'll be back with the details in a day or so, let y'all know how things turned out. Have a good weekend kids, don't do anything I wouldn't do....I'd say that pretty much leaves your options open haha, Kisses, Melody