A *few* day(s) in the life.............

So since I'm still feeling crappy I figured I would regale y'all with "The Raid" story. After all it's not like I have anything better to do than re-live my past insanity. It makes me feel..........accomplished HAHA. I can say that I have lived more unreal shit in my life than most people so that is an accomplishment of sorts.
If I wasn't such an unmotivated asshole I woulda typed all this crap out long ago and sold it to some trash mongering publishing house but...........I am a useless cunt so y'all get the privilege of reading it here for free. HAHAHAHA.......
Fuck, this is gonna take awhile.......It all went down like this:

I was living with this chick Kristen (the one who got hit by a truck) and Casey was there, NLR Brad, Frog, Kristen's mom Reverie and some other misc fuckers. Anna lived out in the converted garage as well but she was clean and stayed away from us junkies.
Casey and I had moved in a few months before when I had received a substantial amount of $$$ for marrying some Indonesian guy (long story). It wasn't our intention to start slinging again but the location was choice and as soon as all our junky brethren found out we were there it turned into a regular stop for everyone. It wasn't so bad 'cause even though we weren't yet back in business we got kicked down all day long for letting people fix in our room. I was still on methadone at the time but going to the clinic maybe 3X a week. It was so inconsistent I could still get loaded as fuck off a $20.
There came a point when we realized that we had just as much traffic as if we were selling so why the fuck not? It's not like we didn't have the experience and connects and we were already middling for alot of people who couldn't score.
It was fate when our friend/connect Ripper asked us if we would take some of the heat off his place and sell bags for him. It wasn't running our own gig but we got 10 bags for every 20 sold and we sold 'em non-stop. This worked out well until all of Rip's other way stations started getting popped and then he himself got gaffled up. His house was set up big time by the cops but I won't go into that, it would take too long.
So there we were with somewhere around 40+ people copping from us on a regular basis as well as all the ones who had been going to Rip. The shit hit the fan when the dope dried up so Brad looked up an old Prison buddy who was swimming in Tar and would cut us a sweet deal on pieces.He was bringing 'em back across the border himself so it was way below retail. We got hooked up with 28 G's for less than a thou which was pretty damn good.
That house turned into the hottest shop in Bako for a minute. It was non-stop phone ringing and we recruited Frog as a runner to keep traffic down....not that it did. I quit the clinic and concentrated on our new enterprise. We were making so much $$$ 'cause we sold mostly dimes, sometimes big chunks but mostly $10 and $20 bags.
We were able to eat out every day,stay in cigs and beer, shoot as much H as we wanted and amass an impressive collection of electronics. We traded for pills, speed(fuckin Brad!) tattoos and boxes of new outfits. Brad even came up on a car for less than 8 Gs.
It was an idyllic existence, I was still doing phone sex but I hadn't had to cash any of my checks for months, they were piling up in a drawer along with a hell of a lotta surplus cash that I put away for a rainy day.
It was mainly my thing because it had been my $$ that financed it but Brad got a cut for having the hook-up and Casey got his for being my honey and helping out with running bags and collecting cash. Frog was my paid bitch and did everything from make bags to deliveries and even hustled his ass to the store when it was required. Fuck I miss that!
Everything was cool except for the fact that we had CRAZY traffic and it had been going strong for about 8 months. We had people coming through the back alley and we sold out the window after 10pm. It was when Frog mentioned that he thought he was being followed that shit got kinda tense. I took his word for it because even though he was a paranoid motherfucker, he wasn't speed-delusional like Brad.
One day we took our lil junky family to the Green Frog Market to buy some groceries (I was feeling domestic) and Frog says, "Fuck there it is again, that truck was following me all morning!"
We looked around but didn't see anything suspicious, the only thing on the street was a Mother's cookie truck. I was starting to have serious doubts about Frog's paranoia. "Frog, there's nothing here!" I said turning in a circle,"Casey, do you see anything? Brad?"
"Nothing but a cocksucking cookie truck" replied Casey.
"That's it!" grumbled Frog "That fucking cookie truck has been on my ass all day.....I'm NOT fucking around!"
I said the first thing that came to mind, "Are you fucking retarded? This is NOT a Cheech and Chong movie!" Casey echoed the sentiment but I could see that Brad was liking the idea more and more. He had been up for a few days and it suited his mindset perfectly, why not a cookie truck? as far as Brad was concerned that made perfect sense.
We went into the store and when we came out 45 min later the truck was still there. I shushed Frog and we walked back to the house. Cookie truck, yeah right.
*A lil later that day* "Son of a bitch!" Frog came huffing into the room, "I just came back from dropping those bags at Sharky's and that God damned cookie truck is in the alley behind the house! I told you motherfuckers but you wouldn't listen......it's the fucking cops!"
"Calm the fuck down" I told him, "Show me." We went into the back yard and looked over the fence, sure enough, the Mother's cookie truck was parked about half a block down. "Christ" I mumbled, "Are you fucking kidding me? This is the most idiotic thing I have ever been a party to. Are those cops smokin' the rock or what?"
We went back inside and told everyone that we were apparently under surveillance.....by fucktard cops in a lame-ass cookie mobile!
We tried to tone down the traffic but it was next to impossible so we had to all start taking turns running bags just to keep as many fiends away from the house as we could. During that time we were stalked by a ghetto looking delivery van with a fake as hell FEDEX sign in the window, several black windowed SUVs and the infamous cookie truck. By that time in was pretty much a forgone conclusion, we were next on the hit list. Then it escalated, people started getting stopped in our area, getting hassled and threatened if they didn't rat us out. Those cops wanted some controlled buys to go with their surveillance. To top it off Brad's paranoid rantings were starting to become reality, he had been out tweekin off one night and upon investigating the broken down moving van in the lot across the street he found a camera filming the house through a hole cut in a board covering the broken windshield. My house phone was making stupid clicking noises and ringing back my last call every time I hung up.
I started wondering why it was that we were getting so much attention, I mean we were holding a pretty fat sack but it's not like we were the only game in town. We all got pre-paid cells and I only used the land line for work. Only our big custies and close friends were allowed to come to the house anymore. Brad implemented the stupid ear-spy plan. He also packed his ass with the dope whenever he went to pick up. Gross! I know it was necessary but I always made sure that he triple wrapped that shit before it went in his butt......and he got to unwrap it as well! Good thing Brad was institutionalized from way too many years in Prison and had no problem hooping the clavo. YARG!
Anyway we tightened things up as much as we could but the house was still junky paradise, we had boxes of new rigs stockpiled and a gang of 2 liter bottles full of used ones. Spoons...check! Plastic, foil and balloons.....check! Mass amounts of unexplainable cash.....double check! Not to mention all the probably stolen crap we had traded for and my pharmacopoeia of Benzo's, pain pills and antibiotics.
The night before we got hit we saw this shit on TV saying that as of that day the cops no longer needed 6 mos surveillance + 3 controlled buys to get a warrant. All they needed was probable cause. We watched in horror as the TV crew followed the Bakersfield Sheriff's dept all around Oildale while they kicked in doors and arrested tweekers left and right.
We took all our dope and put it a couple of big balloons, the pills in another, the used outfits went into a dumpster a few blocks away (Frog was unthrilled with this errand)and we scrubbed all the dope off our bathroom counter and the various plates and surfaces that we used to bag up on. The foil went into the kitchen along with the plastic bags. The unused rigs stayed put and all we kept out was our own kits. Brad tweeked off and found several forgotten bags under and around the bed and dresser.....we had gotten too comfortable and had been sloppy as fuck!
That whole night Brad kept us up while he tweeked off on the noises coming from that retarded ear-spy speaker, Frog pussed out and went to his parents for the night and it was about 5:30 am before Brad fucked off and left us alone. He was in a bad way and had started to strip his clothes off, gibbering in his Donald Duck voice. It was such a relief when he went outside to wash his car! We had Arron come by to cop before work and Mikey came by for a few bags as well. It seemed like we had no sooner shut our eyes than we heard "Bakersfield Police Department.........open the fucking door!" *Boom, boooooooom......crash*
I vaulted over Casey and off the bed, grabbing the dope/pill balloons and kits on the way, making it into our bathroom just as we heard the front door slam open. I looked at all that dope and hesitated for about 3 seconds before I threw the balloons in the toilet and flushed it! Even in that situation it killed a lil piece of me to let it go.
They had made it as far as the hallway because I could hear Kristen yelling, "It's the PIGS" while Striker (the dog) barked his ass off and Reverie screamed, "What the hell is happening?" I was washing the spoons and breaking rigs when I heard them kick in the bedroom door and yell at Casey to get on the floor. It had only taken a few seconds but it seemed like longer, the toilet was still running and as they kicked in the bathroom door I heard them yell."We have a FLUSH!"......right before they dragged me out and threw me on the floor next to Casey. They were all vested up and the trigger happy motherfuckers punctuated their commands by sliding the pumps on their (overkill!) shotguns. We got knees in our backs while they talked shit and handcuffed us before yanking us up by our arms and dragging us through the hallway. There was this weird white foam all over the walls and floor and it wasn't until they took us into the living room that I realized what it was.
Kristen and Reverie were handcuffed on the couch covered head to toe in white foam, the cops had busted in the door and come in.......with fire extinguishers blazing! HAHAHA they hosed down anyone who crossed their path and that just happened to be Kristen and her mom. Kristen was also totally naked at the time.
I felt this hysterical urge to laugh come over me and tried to stifle it as best I could but when Kristen started fucking with the cops I lost it. They had wrapped her in a sheet to cover her up but she kept wriggling to make it fall open. Let me tell you, Kristen weighed about 220 and had enormous long okie titties....not a pretty picture! She would shrug of the sheet and some disgusted cop would cover her back up. She did it over and over until the task leader came in and threatened to hog-tie her if she didn't stop offending his eyes with her nakedness! At this point I was full out laughing, not giving a fuck anymore, Casey was too. Naked Kristen taunting the cops with " Hey look at this PIG" and "oink oink" was just too damn much. Especially since her and her mom were still covered in chem foam, they looked so ridiculous!
The cops were way uptight and not amused by the fact that their intimidation tactics were failing. After all, the Dope was gone down the pipes and all they had on us was some very clean spoons, broken outfits and boxes of unused rigs. They tried the whole spiel about having us on tape and phone and charging us with felony conspiracy to commit sales but it was an empty threat. They took each of us outside and tried to scare us into giving up the connect(who just happened to cruise by while this was going on)but that didn't work either. As a last ditch effort at catching me with something they called in a female sheriff and I had the pleasure of being finger banged by a dyke with a full on mullet and gropey hands! They actually fucked up when they did that because there was no witness in the room and they are not supposed to penetrate you unless they see something in your snatch.....which she did not. The infamous stinky bank..... their code name for dope in pussy, fucking hilarious!
They trashed the house, dumping food, cosmetics, anything and everything all over the floors. They poured out all the soap and shampoos in the shower on top of our clothes and slashed the mattresses and furniture. They even pulled up the toilet in the bathroom in hopes that they would find the dope,the same thing they did at Rips house. Bastards!
We saw them take Brad to the swat van.....gibbering in nothing but his boxers and one shoe......typical. By this point I was irritated and needed a shot and was anxious to have this whole thing come to it's conclusion, either I was going to jail or not. Decide please! They ended up talking alot of shit, telling us about all their evidence and that someone close to us had ratted us out. They made the comment about 24 hr drive thru service and harassed me about my phone sex log....idiots thought it was a record of H sales. They took all the electronic stuff as evidence and said we were fucked for receiving stolen property. They wanted to take the $$$ as well but couldn't because I had my checks to backup the fact that I had legit income. It was all a joke, they actually had the chance to bust us right in their hands but were too cocky and stupid to realize it.
Frog had left 2 lil foil squares in a pill bottle on the dresser and when they had cuffed us and pulled us to our feet I saw a cop grab it and hold it up to the light. Me and Casey could see those 2 dimes in there, I have no idea why he didn't. They were against the side where the label was and I guess he didn't look too closely......retard! In the end all they did was hand out a bunch of citations for paraphernalia and bitch alot. They threatened us with everything under the sun and even told me that they were biding there time til they could catch me for sales. They wanted me in Prison and a piddling paraphernalia charge was not gonna get me there. You would think I was Pablo freaking Escobar the way they carried on......LAME!
They finally left us to the colossal mess in the house. About 25 min after they pulled away the fiends started calling and trickling in the door. We found out that Mikey had been cuffed naked in their swat van the whole time we were getting raided. They had pulled up next to him while he was happily riding his skateboard back home and snatched him right off it and into the van. He swallowed his bags but they strip searched him anyway. Poor Mikey! We laughed our asses off picturing his skateboard flying through the air as he got dragged into the still moving van.
It took us all day and quite a bit of help(paid of course) to get shit back in order but we were up and running by the next morning.....we were so smart! It took some very slick talk on our part to convince the connect to play with us again, he didn't like the fact that nobody went to jail and I can't say that I blame him. Even Brad walked because they had nothing on him.
We were back in business for another 3-4 months before they hit again and we had a mixed task-force of Sherifs and BPD/ K-net on our asses from that point on but that's another long-ass story and I think this one is prolly enough for now. I told y'all it was gonna take awhile.........
So goodbye for now, hope it was as much of a kick for you to read as it was for me to remember it. I think as far as raids go that one was pretty interesting. Laters Loves, Melody

At least a vibrator won't ever ask to be bailed out of jail

I am gonna start by mentioning the wannabe clever comments left for yours truly by guess who...anonymous! Big surprise there, as I was saying to Lilygirl, it doesn't take a fucking genius to fill in the little box with a name. Christ, make one up or something. Anyway, I won't get into that too much because I have other crap to vent about. Before I do though I want to make a special point of saying thanx Lily, Eddie and *gasp* Josh.
Lilygirl defended my honor(what there is of it), quite valiantly. My boys also came riding to the rescue via comments and even though it was all pretty immature shit slinging, it was hella entertaining to read. Colostomy bag.....turd catcher HAHAHA! I will have to explain to Josh that stepping up to someone online doesn't do much but hey it's the thought that counts. Josh baby, I know you would stomp 'anonymous' for me and that's what really matters. Don't think that this changes things though, like I said, if you really care, just be my friend.
Anyways I had so much shit happen in the last 48 hours that my head is still spinning (not the only thing ).
It seems like every week I say to myself , "I am staying the fuck home this weekend!"and every weekend I end up running amok. I thought I had it down last night, it was goin' on 3am and we were watching movies. Just me and Casey. I heard the phone ringing in the next room and decided to ignore it, a 3am phone call is rarely good, especially when there are only a few people privileged enough to have the #. After something like 10 back to back calls (they kept hanging up on the machine) I got pissed and answered it.
"You are receiving a collect call from an inmate currently being held at the San Juan county jail, this call will be recorded. Do you wish to accept?" WHAT THE FUCK?
Even before it connected knew who's voice I was gonna hear. Little bastard!
"Melody, it's me....Richie" no shit "Me and Eric got picked up" no shit "We need you to do us a big favor" here it comes "Please" wait for it "Can you come and bail us out" there it is.
What could I say to that? I guess I could have said no, I probably would have if he hadn't told me that the money was taken care of, all I had to do was get picked up and hit the bail bonds. I asked him why he needed me if someone was already standing by with the $$$. Why couldn't they go do it. He just said,"Please, I can't talk about it now, can you do it?" I finally agreed, though I didn't fell like fucking with it at all.
He told me to go outside in 30 min and someone would pick me up, he wouldn't say who. Fantastic! I didn't get to bitch about it because Casey was standing there glaring at me and when he heard me say I'd be out in 30 he ripped the phone out of the wall. I ignored him because opening my mouth would result in a long tiresome argument and I couldn't handle it right then. Plus I needed to get dressed and ready to go. He followed me from room to room, talkin' up a shit storm.
I don't remember much of what he said 'cause I was blocking him out ( I'm very good at that)and he didn't try to physically stop me either. I think it's because when he gets really pissed at me he's afraid that if he touches me he will kill me (I wonder why?). Sounds funny but then most of you don't know Casey. He has a wicked temper. I've seen him lose it on people and it's pretty fuckin crazy. I'm glad he has some restraint when it comes to throttling me, even I know I deserve it sometimes.....OK most of the time.
I stood outside and smoked a cig and before long a car pulled up to the curb. It was Eric's cousin. Now I understood why Richie wouldn't say his name. He is way wanted in SJ county. Meth is a plague in these parts and they don't look kindly on the people who manufacture it, not that I'm saying he does. I got in the car and the first thing he does is pull out a bullet! While we're driving! I declined but he proceeded to hotbox the car sooo fucking bad I was getting wired just riding next to him. It is not comforting to have someone repeatedly say "Take the wheel" so he can hit his pipe, especially when you are en route to the bondsman/cop shop. It boggles the mind to think this is the same individual who has eluded law enforcement for the last few years. It also speaks volumes about the competence(incompetence) of the police agencies in this area.
He dropped me at the bail bonds with 3500 in cash and told me to use my name (thanx alot asshole) and pay part of the 10% on Eric and Richie. He was putting up some cars as collateral on the rest. I'm not real sure about the whole process, every time I got arrested I knew better than to expect someone to bail me out, so I took his word for it. The bondsman was a friend of his so all I had to do was go in with the pink slips and cash, fill out some shit and then ride with the bondsman to the jail. I hadn't even asked what they got popped for. I did however make sure that I wouldn't be on the line if they fucked off their court appearances. I'd be damned if I was gonna cough up the rest of the bond.
It took forever! I hate jail waiting areas, I hated even being within sight of a police facility much less inside........it made me fucking nervous! Maybe it was the contact high I got from all that freakin' smoke, whatever it was it sucked!
Finally the two little fuck heads come out, lookin' all shamefaced and shit. Eric is apologizing and Richie won't look at me. I start to wonder how the fuck we're getting home when Eric walks up the street and pulls a hide a key from the wheel well of a truck. His cousin had someone leave us transportation. How considerate! I got tapped for bond detail because everyone else was too spun/paranoid to do it themselves yet someone could go to the trouble of leaving a vehicle for us not one block away! Tweekers confuse me.
It was now almost 6am and knowing what was waiting for me at my house, I decided to go back to Eric's cousin's. When we got there it was mayhem, I finally found out that they had been caught holding almost a ball of cryssy. Even more fucked, some of it was bagged in $20 servings so they could be charged with intent to distribute. It was all kinda confusing, I still don't know the whole story. Richie dragged me outside and said he was sorry, he also said he was embarrassed.
I'm almost certain that it was all some moronic money making scheme thought up by Eric and Richie and facilitated by the cousin. Again I am astounded that this is the man that the cops can't catch. Maybe he is an idiot savant. A meth idiot savant, like Rainman with methamphetamine, that would be funny as fuck!
So I told Richie not to sweat it, everybody I know has been caught up for one thing or another. I then told him he was an ignorant, stupid fuck for carrying that much speed...... some of it bagged....on foot....... close to midnight...on a Friday. I also told him it was OK, that now he knew better and that a lengthy prison term would only strengthen that knowledge. He was not as amused by my comment as I was.
We went back in and yes I did some speed. Why the fuck not, I earned it and besides I had nothing better to do at 7:30am on a Saturday morning. I didn't want to go home yet, I was positive that Casey was lying in wait for me and would (verbally) pounce the second I walked through the door. I would put that shit off as long as fucking possible.
I would have been better off going home. I got a FAT hookup for taking care of the bail stuff and proceeded to get ultra high. Richie was sitting on the floor against the wall in one of the bedrooms. I was in front of him, sitting between his legs, my foot on my thigh while I tried to find a vein. I hit and that shit knocked me back...............right up against Richie. *Sigh*
I don't think I have to mention that speed makes you really horny and being held back against Richie's chest while it takes effect makes you even hornier. I may have lingered longer than I should have. I may also have let him run his hands up under my shirt. Oooops.
I think it was when those (abnormally) fast hands slid up under my bra that I regained my senses and scooted away from him.
I am a pillar of restraint and morality! Really!
If any of you saw Richie you would be amazed that I am not under (or over) him right this second. He is too cute for his and my own good. He got all hurt looking when I moved away,then he stood up and walked over to the window. I got up too and sat on the bed. I told him that we had been over this shit before, if he was gonna be my friend he needed to cut the crap.
He countered that with the fact that I was obviously attracted to him. I told him that was irrelevant, I was attracted to lots of guys. Just because I think you're hot does not mean your guaranteed a piece of ass. Not usually anyway.
He has gotten to know me too well and has figured what pushes my buttons, good and bad. He walked over to the bed, knelt on the floor in front of me, picked up my foot and licked the blood off........
It was time to go! I needed to remove myself from his presence as soon as fucking possible. Hot guys licking blood off me is definitely one of my weaknesses, especially if I am already high on something and needles were involved. That exact scenario has led to some of the most amazing sex ever, so you understand why it was imperative for me to put many, many miles between me and Richie.
I got Eric to take me home. We talked about alot of shit, he was worried about the charges they might be looking at. He didn't want to end up doing 6 years for possession with intent. I don't blame him. I told him that it was the chance you took if you wanted to deal, no getting around it. Come to terms with that and move on or don't sell drugs, get a job at Wal-mart instead. Thrilling prospect.
Eric also told me that Richie really liked me; really, really liked me and that it was hard for him to just be friends. I don't need to hear that shit. I have enough on my plate already. Casey alone is enough to drive me to distraction, not to mention Josh and some other bullshit with the guys back home.
I think I've had it, I like Richie but if this keeps up something bad is gonna happen. I have been here before and it never ends well. Maybe I should just relocate to a hut in the desert all by myself with no boys to make me crazy. I'll live in a mud shack with nothing but a blanket, a vibrator and a lifetime supply of batteries and cigarettes. Maybe not.
In case you're wondering, yes Casey was livid when I got home. I told him to blow it out his ass and locked myself in the bathroom. I didn't come out until I had a shot of speed all ready for him. He took it but he was still pissed, it was an improvement though because now he was pissed and horny. That I can handle. I handled it until sometime this afternoon where apon I had to take a shower and lay down.......ALONE! I woke up a little while ago and tada. I have bared my soul yet again. I hope you fuckers appreciate it. HAHA I love ya, Melody
P.S. Lilygirl check your myspace or call, I have an M.I.A. update!

Adventures in babysitting aka why I am brilliant in my stupidity and why my shoes kick ass!

So yeah, it's been a few days. I'm sure y'all are just bursting at the seams wondering what kinda bullshit I got myself into. I have been so caught up in Josh drama, Richie drama, Casey drama even communist drama. I had to get the fuck away from it all.............and almost got myself arrested for my trouble. HEHE all's well that ends well right? I am not in jail and I have resisted the urge to fellate a handgun (I am fed UP with whiny, pissy, ego-inflated pricks) and end this week long headache that is the result of too many cocks in the, um...........hen house? Whatever.

First off Richie has been making a nuisance of himself as only he can. He has been using his cute face to weaken my resolve to keep him outta my house! I need a break, I am getting overwhelmed and I have no escape (aka Heroin) to help me deal.

Josh is stalking me via blog and e-mail and driving me fucking nuts! Don't you have anything (anyone) better to do? If I was in Bako I would be so busy getting fucked up and tearin' up the town that Internet harassment would be the last thing on my fucking mind! Josh, get a god damned life, seriously. I know you've read the comments, I know that there are plenty of bitches in Bako that would love nothing more than to jump on your dick and stay there as long as possible. Find them, please!

I truly think that if I was to say OK and come back, we would be at each others throats in days, all your $$$$ don't mean shit! Oh and by the way, you come off as such an assclown in your comments. Do you realize how obnoxious you sound? You talk about me frontin' but take a look in the mirror babe, you sound like a dipshit! I know that's not the real you, you maybe a cocky asshole but you are generally an alright guy. Do yourself a favor and cut the act, who the fuck are you showing off for? A bunch of people who you're never gonna meet! Your smarter than that darlin' and nobody likes a dipshit.

I made the brilliant decision to call the communist and got just what I thought I would. He spent the majority of our hour long conversation trying to get me interested in a scheme that would involve a lot of driving and a fully decent payout. I was trying hard to seem uninterested but he knows me pretty well.

His brother is still in the fed and sends his love which is nice............he also wants to send the brother and some of his intercontinental buttboys (aka errand runners) to come fetch me. I am undecided. I know I shouldn't do it, I actually have something to lose now and I'm not sure I wanna lose it. I didn't care before, hell it was like one big adventure, alive... dead whatever, it didn't really faze me. I think being (mostly) sober has made me more cautious.

Haha I'm sure some of you are thinking , "Fuck! If this is Melody being cautious what the hell was she like before" I'll tell ya, I was a carefree, reckless, fearless, lovable kinda girl. I was alot of fun and alot of trouble but most people (mostly guys) thought I was worth it. Schmucks! (Josh , this means you)

I am not quite so liberated any longer and I'm not sure I care for it. Being somewhat more clearheaded has left me in such a conflicted dilemma that I would almost (really) prefer the way I felt before. I had no notions of responsibility, just a truly awe inspiring gift for self destruction that left little room for hesitation. I will say it again, responsibility blows!

Casey has gotten a little less understanding this past week and currently wants to squash Richie and Eric like bugs. It has alot to do with my little police sitch -ee-ay-shun. I did something unwise (BIG surprise) and Casey is being an I told you so. I HATE I told you sos', even if he is right.

OK................I stayed home all week, until Friday. I was gonna be good and not go anywhere but around 9:30 guess who shows up? That's right, Richie and Eric. They had taken Eric's sister's car and wanted to head out to some res party in the middle of nowhere. Casey was on the computer and getting cozy with a bottle of whiskey, so he didn't want to go.

Eric was giving me the eye and innocently mentioned they had some speed. Oh goody, just what I needed, another night of tweeker adventures. I really didn't feel like going but after they came inside and Eric dished me and Casey out a shot (he again used the opportunity to run to the bathroom and fix) and Richie started wheedling and coaxing I finally gave in. Casey still didn't want to go. I feel almost embarrassed saying it but he got so caught up in a meth induced Warcraft frenzy that getting him out the door would have been impossible. I hate Warcraft!

After 3 miles of riding in the car with Richie giving us all whiplash and killing it at every stop(it was a stick shift) I took over chauffeur duties. I can drive anything.

We headed out onto the res, driving for like an hour and a half in the pitch dark, on dirt roads. What fun! Being hyper spun makes stuff like that even more sketchy, I was waiting for something fucked up to happen, leaving us stranded or worse. Being the brilliant human beings that we are, we decided that it would be a good idea to stop and smoke some cryssy before we got there. Genius, really. Tweekin' balls in BFE at night, sure lets park and hit the glass dick for awhile. I felt like I was gonna over amp. I got really tired and kept having to shake myself awake. Pretty fucked up having to drive unpaved roads that sometimes go along cliffs and mesas in that condition. At night!

We made it in one piece, arriving at a huge trailer. Seriously , it was HUGE. It was like two double wides welded together or some shit. I have never seen anything like it. The people who lived there were awesome, inviting us into the back room and kicking down with some shit that was sooo clean it looked like shards of glass. It burned forever in the pipe and knocked you on your ass if you did a shot. I won't say there was a lab somewhere on the property but I won't say there wasn't either.

Come to find out, we're in Eric's cousin's domain. Ahhh, now it all made sense. We all sat and smoked and talked and shot and watched a really funny documentary called " Choosing Life or Meth." I don't think it was supposed to be funny, maybe it was because we were so gakked. Whatever it was, I almost peed my pants when they showed before and afters that were supposedly less than 6 months apart. That shit was so fake, you would have to be hooked up to a meth drip 24/7 in order to get that tore back in 1-4 months. I won't deny that speed fucks you up but come the fuck on. It reminded me of those old govmnt propaganda films like reefer madness, Smoke marijuana once and you will become instantly addicted, leading you to commit vehicular manslaughter numerous times before you jump out a window and kill yourself.

They would show a before pic of a blond cheerleader and then it would show a 60yr old toothless hag and say , "This is what just three months of smoking meth did to Tracy". Horsesheeeit!

Anyway at sometime during the night, Eric's cousin decided that it would be awesome to go out into the dessert and shoot his (impressive array) of guns. Great idea, I'm surprised I didn't think of that. Nothing makes more sense than to arm a bunch of paranoid drug addicts and go out into the desert. We went.

I passed on the Mossberg pump because it was sawed off and would have knocked me on my ass, thanx but no thanx. I ended up shooting a .22 Beretta, a Firestar 9mil and something else that I can't remember the name of. It was pretty cool, I like guns. Richie said it gave him a hard-on watching me fire guns. Most guys who know me would run in the other direction if they saw me packin', not get stiff. HAHA, he'll learn.

Amazingly enough, nobody got maimed and we went back to the trailer. I distanced myself from Richie a bit, all that hard -on talk was annoying. By that time it was going on daybreak, time to get the fuck home!

We were driving back, me behind the wheel. I was feeling particularly optimistic because Eric's cousin had slipped me a couple 40ml oxys and I wanted to get back and bang 'em. I had stashed them in the (very convenient) coffin stash spot in my new creepers. Under the insole and completely invisible. I also had what was left of Eric's crystal in my other shoe. I was a walking (haha) felony waiting to happen.

Everything was cool until we hit the main drag back through town. Some cock sucking cop decided that my going 40 in a 35 was ample reason to stop us. Fucking fantastic! The boys instantly became everything you should never be when faced with the law, shifty eyed, nervous,twitchy and tongue tied. Brilliant!

I told them to sit still and shut the fuck up, if they offered up some asinine comment to the pig, he was gonna notice that they were spun retarded and we were all going to jail. Speak only if spoken to and give yes or no answers unless he asks you to be more specific. Don't sound like a robot but don't be a blabbermouth either, it makes you look guilty. Don't fidget , just be cool and maybe you won't end up in the pokey.

Needless to say the things that I mentioned above were exactly the things that 2 scared, wired kids do without even knowing it. I was sooo fucked!

Or so I thought. After glancing into the car, the cop asked me to give up my DL and registration. he went back to run it and the boys were freaking out! The last thing I wanted to hear was to kids chanting "We're gonna get caught, we're going to jail" over and over. I again told them to shut the fuck up! I was the one with felonious shoes on my feet, all they had was paraphernalia, a shit charge.

The cop comes back and asks me to step out of the car. Fuck Fuck Fuck! This is where they tell you to lean against the trunk, hands flat and they cuff or zip-tie your ass. I was just getting used to the idea of getting arrested when he surprised me by asking, "Were you aware that you have two open warrants in the state of California?" UHHHHHH.............?

I tried to think of something nonchalant to say but before I could do that I spit out, "Hell officer, what do you think I'm doin' in New Mexico?" Me and my goddamned mouth. He actually laughed, instead of giving me the universal cop stink eye, like most pigs would have. A cop with a sense of humor, will wonders never cease?

He wrote me a warning ( I have NEVER walked away with a warning) and sent me on my way, saying, "Nice shoes" in a smirky kind of way as I got into the car. Hahaha, nicer than you will ever know Officer Hoggit.

We made it back to my house and the story came pouring out of two teen aged mouths like the proverbial flood. Casey was not amused. After a couple of hours i got rid of the boys and appeased Casey with one of the oxys, a bribe if you will. It worked.........until the next day when I got an earful of shit that would have made the most tolerant woman cringe. I am not the most tolerant woman, I split! I was gone over at Sammi's for Saturday and Sunday and came home this morning. Casey seems glad to see me but would never actually say it out loud. He did ask who I was shacked up with and seemed relieved when I told him I had been at Sammi's. He did mention that he doesn't want to lay eyes on either of the boys for a good long while. I'll see what I can do but I'm not making any promises. This is Melody signing out. XOXO ( still kinda wired, can you tell?)

Friday the 13th, just another day in Buttfuck, New Mexico

So, I'm sitting here, bored, bored, bored. And being that we're such good friends I just knew you would be dying to hear about it. The mortuary down the street has been doing back to back cremations, so I have been enjoying the smell and ash that floats down here to my little piece of Hell. As if this place could be any more dismal. The only satisfaction I get is when people coming out hear me blasting TSOL Code Blue. You know," I wanna fuck the the dead." It's petty but I never said I was perfect, or did I? Whatever. I don't really wanna fuck the dead, it's just a good ice breaker.

I just got through tossing out the psych meds I got prescribed last week. What a fucking waste of time! Instead of giving me Benzos like a normal Psychiatrist, the bitch put me on some ancient anti-depressants from the 60's. I know amitriptlyn sounds like fun, but guess again. For the first couple of days I felt like I had a colossal hangover and on the third day I made the genius decision to mix it with Jim Beam. Having achieved stellar results before when mixing prescription drugs and alcohol I never though twice. Big mistake! In less than an hour I was twitching like a puppet on strings. The only thing I can compare it to is taking Seroquel w/out heroin to balance it out. Funny huh, balancing out an anti-psychotic with opiates.

Well anyway, it took about 8 hours of arm/leg jerking hell before it wore off. Ugh, I get cold sweats just thinking about it, way too close to kicking for my liking. It's funny how I never worry about kicking until it's too late. Like in the back of a cop car too late. It's at that moment that it hits me. I don't care if I just did the fattest shot, the second those cuffs go on I start to get sick. It's like cop car cooties just drain the dope right out of me. The mind is a powerful thing, now if I could just figure out how to do it in reverse and get loaded at will my world would be complete. I'll just have to settle for my weekly deliveries from my Internet friend, my new best friend.

Ah, I digress. Back to those stupid meds. After spending hours in the psych's office doing my best anxiety Annie impression all I get are shitty anti-depressants? Oh and relaxation tape therapy. Fuck ! If I wanted to listen to that crap I could do it in the privacy of my own home, on my stereo. My Cd player can't prescribe me drugs, more's the pity, that's what I pay those assholes for. It's a thoroughly disgusting situation. I am thoroughly disgusted. I go back on Tuesday.