Monday, September 12, 2011

And Another Thing...

Fuck you.
This is current and really just because I'm jittery and just getting over some moderate dopesickness and I'm home alone. Casey's been gone since Friday, probably found himself a few dimwitted Mormon hookers over in Utah and is even now basking in pre-paid, polygamous bliss.
Aside from a short visit from one of the neighborhood youngsters, I've had nothing to do but complain and slather myself with a weak solution of topical Ketamine and Morphine. It makes me numb, not numb as in comfortably, numb as in novacain.
I spent Friday night wondering if I was ever gonna regain the feeling in my tits (Yes, I put it there too), and trying not to gag on the smell. That shit stinks of something sterile, like bandaids and also mothballs. I reeked like an old lady laid up in an infirmary.
About halfway through Saturday I decided that even though it does take the edge off, it's just too messy and inconvenient for so little effect. Plus it does weird things to your hands. I was only using my left hand to rub it in (cuz it feels funny, duh) and now each time I've taken a shower that hand prunes up in like 30 seconds. It's unsettling.
Anyway, I...oh fuck my life with Depeche Mode, Shake the Disease...really? I need to hear this NOW? Those assholes have ruined more songs for me than I care to admit, for whatever reason it's become common knowledge that the easiest way to unerve me is via music. Not always but if the mood (see: Nicely fucked up), is right and the sounds are too, it gets me. Of course I don't do too  much of anything I might get killed for but if there were a way to wear me down that would be close to the top of the list. I don't think I need to tell you what number one is.
Oh shut the fuck up, it's not like I lay down anytime someone waves a bag around, quite the opposite actually. Even when I was whoring I didn't fuck for dope, it's just not good business. The connect might know what you do but he still values you as a cusomer, fuck/suck him for a fix and he loses all respect for you. It's the whole out of sight out of mind thing, I've see it happen a million times. Bang the connect and he sees you differently and 9 times out of 10 it's not in a positive way. You become just another bag whore and that's that. Not getting down on the Ladies who do it, just saying that in my experience it's better to suck the dick, get paid and buy your own damn dope.
Neighbor came by a second ago, saw that I was practically bouncing off the walls and offered me some Valerian capsules. Took all my willpower not to punch her in the mouth. Valerian? I may as well go outside and eat grass, the cat seems to like it. Fucking Valerian. I know that this is supposed to be what they make Valium out of but there really has to be more to it than just that stupid ass root.
It's like when you tell your doctor you haven't slept in 10 days and he gives you Melatonin. Personally, I believe that a slap in the face like that deserves to get smacked right back. Melatonin, can you imagine?
Back when we used to have Dr Swanson's pill detox, you would get Valium, Soma, Clonodine (pills and derm patches), Chloral Hydrate syrup, Compazine and fucking Melatonin. Every junky in Bakersfield had at least 3 full bottles of that shit because no one ever bothered with it. Maybe it works for a 50 yr old who's never taken anything stronger than a Tylenol PM but for a Dopefiend in withdrawal? Uh-uh.
Oh I boring you? Is this too mundane for those of you seeking entertainment? Well guess the fuck what, I ain't a Godamned acrobat and I'm not here turning somersaults to keep you amused. Your lack of enthusiasm for anything I post here is not my problem.
And for all those people combing past posts for mis-matched info, read the disclaimer bitches. For all anyone knows I'm a Bi-polar housewife living in obscurity and I make all this crap up just to keep myself from taking a long drive in a tightly sealed garage. Stranger things have happened so suck it and shut the fuck up already. That's what I'm gonna do and your welcome.