Vapid, Trivial and Not a Little Gross

I have some utterly self involved rant all written and ready to post but I just couldn't bring myself to do it. It's not often that it happens that way, being in love with yourself has it's perks but not tonight. Usually I would be perfectly content to publish it and then wait for all the douchey comments that would inevitably follow so that I could lord my ability to justify any damn thing over all the anons who dared question my absolutely brilliant and in no way flawed point of view. I am perfect and therefore immune to the questionable logic that plagues the imperfect masses.
 Haha, if there's one person out there that takes this last (and unbelievably run on) sentence as gospel, it will make my week, several times over in fact! Lighten the fuck up for Christ sake, find something better to do with your time and give someone else a chance at righteous indignation, you've been hogging it all up, leave some for the rest of us.
So I'm going for something inane, a little bit vapid and maybe just plain trivial. I am, after all a normal girl with normal issues and though I choose not to go on about such things, I too have days when I just don't feel fresh.
Don't be afraid, although I have no compunctions about bringing up my past as a needle toting turbo whore, I'll keep mentions of festering lady parts to a minimum. If anyone is wondering, I have no such afflictions, having been partial to condoms during my stint as a rent a hole. It's the practical thing to do and has saved me untold amounts on Valtrex and Cipro. A girl has to think about her health after all *snickering* and that old slag's tale about blowing rock smoke on suspect genitalia...well if you believe that, then you just deserve to catch the herpes!
Anyway, back to the present, my hair has gotten unbearably long and I'm at the point where if I don't do something soon, I may just shave it all off. I'm also growing tired of snide Lady Gaga comments! Lets get one thing straight, if I look like a bleached out tranny so be it but if there's one thing I know is that I've pulled off some version of this look for the last decade or more. I don't look like that crazy cunt, bitch looks like me! Whether that's good or bad is up for interpretation but there it is.
So I might and I stress MIGHT be picking some other color for my hair and may even be open to suggestions. As long as it isn't anything that looks like it might be natural, can't have that. Maybe I should hold a contest?
Well I think that's about it and I definitely fulfilled my goal of a vapid yet trivial post, I even threw in something to put you off your food, just for giggles. I hope you appreciate it! *sigh* I'm always thinking of others.
Weird, for some reason I was just reminded of the time (one of  'em), when we were getting tailed by the cops day and night and how I used to make the runners carry all my bags when I went shopping. Haha, being my bitch was part of the job description. Plus it made it more entertaining for the police, watching me drag Frog, Jimmy and Joe around to all manner of shops, loading them down with packages and making them get manicures. Maybe I was a little bored and that makes me mean but fuck it, they got paid damn well! I bet Anna remembers some of that, heheh.
Hmmm, that's making me smile, I may hafta write more on "The Tower" chronicles later.
Kisses,
~Melody Lee

Diversionary Tactics...

Not to add another car to the "everything sux ass" train but this seems to be the year for it. We just heard that another friend has been relegated to the dead pile. I guess it really does happen in threes.
He was more Casey's friend than mine, I knew him well enough but we weren't close, even tho I  lived with him for a short while.
 As far as I know it had nothing to do with Heroin (isn't that refreshing?), he burned up in a fire. Something to do with a wayward molotov and the inability to escape the squat in a timely manner. He was toasted up like pork rind and I'm sorry it happened to him, not a pleasant way to go. So hasta luego, Jason M. RIP.
With all this melancholy crap, I feel like I should put up something to distract from it, not detract, just make the all the charred imagery go away for a bit. I know I could use something to cleanse me of that mental picture and all the horrid details that go along with it. And yes, they were absolutely awful!
So here's some of the pics from the Vegas car show thing and my scabby stiches tattoo and some other crap I captured on camera. There's tons more but they need to be scanned and that requires actual effort so...Enjoy

And the horse it rode in on...

Another friend gone...what can I say? I don't want to seem nonchalant about it, because it's not that easily gotten over but really, what can I say...what can I do? Not a damn thing. Just get through my day as best I can and know in my heart that he, that they won't be forgotten, at  least not by me.
It always bothers me a little bit that I can get past these things so quickly, that the last time I cried real tears over a friend's death was more years ago than I can count. Not to say that these recent losses haven't made me weepy but it's never at the appropriate moment. It'll be at some really stupid time, like when I'm doing the laundry or driving down the street that I end up with tears streaming down my face and the feeling that my heart has been torn out of my chest. Like some weird word/image association that reminds me of them and for a moment I think that I'll look over and see them next to me, doing the same shit they were doing the last time we were together.
I suppose I shouldn't be too hard on myself about this, I mean who can really say what is appropriate where grief is concerned. I just deal with it differently and have dealt with it so often that it just seems a matter of time til the next one comes around. It doesn't mean I miss them any less than the person who cries copious tears at their graveside, it just means I'm a little...different.  Not better or worse, just different.
I don't even know what to write, I've been wrung out and hung up to dry. Funny that. I've decided that I'm done with alot of things and no heroin is not one of them!
I'm done with coddling self pitying sad sacks that don't have the balls to take a good look at their situation and see that they really don't have much to cry about AT ALL! Shut the fuck up, your mewling and stereotypical "depressed young man/woman" posturing is getting old and beyond boring and I won't feed  your need for sympathy any longer!
I'm done with trying to please anyone but myself, including family. They were the last holdout where that was concerned but no longer. Truth is I never tried all that hard but as of now I am cutting off all that nonsense. They can take it or leave it, either way it won't affect me much. It doesn't mean I don't love them, it means I'm no longer going to go against myself just to make them feel better. DONE!
I'm not this horrible person that has no human feeling, I'm just sooo sick and tired of all the bullshit that attaches itself to those two issues. I refuse to deal with it, refuse to let it drag me down or choose my path for me.
If I choose to wreck myself in every conceivable way, I will damn well do it! You can join me, disown me or stand back and watch, I don't care which. Just don't expect me to apologize for it or make excuses, that's not the way it works.
And please don't turn your good intentions my way, misguided sympathy I can do without! I don't feel sorry for myself, I damn well don't expect anyone else to. If you are stupid enough to extend a sympathetic hand, don't be surprised if I lop it off and sell it for dope, fuck your pity and the horse it rode in on bitch!
I refuse to be that person, the one who pens a pretty tale of coercion, addiction, destruction and eventual redemption. I'll leave that to all the whiny cunts who get off on waxing about how high were their highs and how low their lows. Pfffft! Enough whiny cunts, I won't add myself to their number.
I wasn't coerced and I don't want to be redeemed, how's that for a pleasing story?
Fuckers, I don't want your help, just send me your money. Christ, I wish I was retarded enough to panhandle on the Internet...I'd make sooooo much cash! Tell people what they wanna hear and get paid for it...I was always too stuck up to panhandle but sucking dick for money, haha I guess that's different!
That's also a whole other post, so I'll leave it at that. I feel much better and may even be back before another 30 days has passed, never say never, right?
~Melody Lee
PS I'll be adding this link eventually but for all who have been asking http://noahnods.wordpress.com/ there you go. He tells me he's having trouble responding to e-mails  so you can find the N man at that new blog address.

R.I.P. Joe 1981-2010

He's the one on the left NOT wearing suuuuuper tight purple pants (sorry A but they are!), We'll miss you my brother...

Not Just One Thing

Right, so this isn't going to be one long, focused effort, probly closer to a semi-coherent rant/ramble...you have been warned. My crappy music player is undergoing upgrades so I haven't been able to change the music, you'll just hafta grin and bear it or hit mute, your choice.
For the person who asked, Lora was one of my closest friends back home and she died of an H OD on the 4th of this month. She was complicated, difficult to get along with and so damn hard headed that it made you want to rip your hair out. I love her like a sister and am having one of my rare moments of guilt over her death.
Had I stayed in Cali, I would have inevitably been by her side and might have been able to keep her above ground a few years longer. She didn't want me to come to New Mexico, said that if I did, Casey would just use me as a crutch to fuck up and then put the all blame on me. She was right to an extent, he does do that sometimes.
She was kinda mad at me for leaving, Jerry said he knew I would and that he and L had argued over it, she was convinced that I wasn't that stupid and he thought I loved Casey too much not to. They were like the flip side of me and Casey; dark, dysfunctional and so caught up in each other that it made all bullshit seem worthwhile. I can't even imagine what Jerry is going through right now...
So anyway, that's just one of the reasons I've been MIA this month, the main one really. The others include my ever annoying medical issues (my percocet has been raised to an insane amount, not that I'm complaining) and by recommendation of a friend from work, I might be going to some specialist in Arizona, if I ever get off my ass and call his office. If not I'll be keeping up my monthly trek to Albuquerque to see my usual useless doc. Even I know better than to give someone a derivative of a med they have a severe allergy to. I was twitching and jerking like a marionette on crack! Stupid cunt!
I have gone back to refusing to take any pill I cannot readily identify. It's less twitchy that way.
Also, my family came to visit, which is always cause for equal parts happiness and alarm, nobody gets to me like my family! It was nice, even if  my mom can still make me feel like a disobedient 8yr old.
In unrelated news, I got the stitches tattooed on my wrist awhile back and never got around to putting up pics. It looks gross, in a completely kick-ass way! They look all cartoon-y and Frankenstein-ish, I fucking looooooove them! You know something is creepy looking when the guy doing the tat finishes up and says, "Fuck, that shit looks crazy!" The best part was when it was all swollen and scabbed up, it looked almost real, people would stop and take a second look, just to be sure it wasn't. All in all, they are perfect! I might just put up one of the scabby pics, so y'all can enjoy it too.
I also have lotsa pics from the thing in Vegas, so I'll be putting those up as well. I woulda done it sooner but this thing with Lora made me feel even more lethargic and useless than usual. Casey looks adorable of course and I, having refused to paint and curl myself within an inch of my life, looked like a deranged Alice in wonderland with brass knuckles on the belt over my, um...pinafore haha. Not quite a pinafore but you can judge for yourself...when I get around to putting up the pics, that is. Maybe sometime this week.
My new friend wants me to take him to Albuquerque today and I'm not sure if I will. Casey hates him already because he calls me "Mami" and ignores Casey when he comes over. He comes to the door ALOT! So much that I just turned off my cell and ignore the door, it's easier that way. Cameron introduced him to me as being one of the few H users in town, he thought we might be beneficial to each other. So far I haven't seen it but whatever.
Tracksuit dildo got his car riddled with bullets at a stoplight but they missed his fat head, not sure if I care either way about that one. Never had enough interaction with him to wish him dead or alive, just enough to know he is a jerk-off of Spencer Pratt-like proportions and I want nothing further to do with him, especially if he's drawing bullets!
So, I guess that's all the news that's un-fit to print. Expect some pics soon and I'm sure some more rambling will follow as well.
~Melody Lee
P.S. Thanx to Rufus for threatening to come looking for me, with a search party like that, I may just go missing more often!

R.I.P. Lora 1984-2010

Love and miss you babe...

Mean for all the Right Reasons

The conclusion to my Richie episode:

 I sat on the bed puffing on that disgusting brown cigarette and wondering how I was gonna extricate myself from this inconvenient situation. I hate to label Richie inconvenient but he most definitely is! Where he goes, difficult to explain misadventures follow, whether by accident or design, they are nothing if not inconvenient!
I needed to keep control of myself and the best way for me to do that was to climb into the safe, warm skin of sarcasm and snarky bitchiness that I wear so well. Talk about a defense mechanism, haha.
I didn't want to be mean, it's not in my nature to be nasty to people I like but this was an exception. I would tone down the acidity and keep the ouch factor to a minimum. Good plan!
I turned to Rich and blew a steady stream of icky More smoke into his face, looking bored and asking, "So what's up junior, what was so important that you had to stalk me into R-man's boudoir?"
I made sure to use equal parts mockery and disinterest to add just the right flavour to my question. I sounded like a proper cunt!
Poor little boy did his best to ignore my sudden personality switch but I could tell it had thrown him off a bit. I lay back on the bed, my legs hanging over the edge, feet swinging like a 3yr old, I even started humming under my breath as I created artful smoke rings and blew them up towards the ceiling.
He had started up some slick monologue about why he was pursuing me and ended it with a question...a question I ignored completely until he reached out and touched my arm in askance. Only then did I stop my humming...just long enough to turn towards him with a blank look and ask, "Hmmm? Did you just ask me something?"
It was brilliant! I felt bad, really I did, even if his darling face hadn't registered all that confused emotion and wilting testosterone, I still would've felt felt awful...pretty sure anyway. *smirk*
I knew if I could make him whiny, it would give me just the push I needed to finish the job, you all know my feelings about whining!
He tried to regroup and I hit him with, "Spit it out highschool, I don't have all night." Technically I had all night and into the next day but it was too good a line to pass up and Richie didn't notice anyway.
When he didn't say anything, I closed my eyes and returned to my smoke rings and leg swinging, when something works, stick with it! I felt the bed shift, dipping down like he'd raised himself up or rolled on his side. I was hoping it was him turning his back on me but when I opened one eye to take a look, I saw him looking down at me, the full force of those green eyes directed right at me!
 My resistance wavering, I decided the best course of action was to close my eye and pretend I was not affected in the least. I thought I was doing a reasonably good job of it until I felt his breath tickling my ear and he whispered,"What you're doing right now, it's not gonna work."
I tried to counter with, "Hmmm?" but I knew he was onto me and it was gonna take alot more than vague indifference to put him off. I decided I need to up the asshole factor and try a direct and well, somewhat insulting approach. It was all I had left unless I wanted to resort to something that would make him hate me and that wasn't what I was after. I can be mean withhout being unnecessarily vicious, I save that for personal arguments and catfights, heheh.
I opened both eyes and gazed back up at him, schooling my face into something resembling amused understanding. Anything but what I was really feeling, if I let him see any kind of affection lurking in me, he would move in for the kill.
I kept my eyes on his and when he smiled at me, I smiled back, I couldn't help it but I refused to lose sight of my objective! This was gonna be really ugly and mean and so not what I wanted but it had to be done.
Still smiling at him, I reached up and put my hand on the side of that devilishly adorable face...and did my best to wreck every last vestige of self confidence in my beautiful boy. At least temporarily.
Stroking my thumb over his lower lip for extra effect...and ok because a broken finger couldn't have stopped me, I said,"So what's the deal pretty boy, is it really that bad? Don't try and tell me that you haven't had a hundred and one chances to get your shit wet in the few days you've been on the loose, I know you." He started to say something but I put my fingers over his mouth and continued,"Did something happen in jail to make you...uh shy with the ladies, an incedent in the showers perhaps? Is it cuz you feel "safe" with me?" He snorted and shook his head as if to say "what the fuck?" but I was not to be stopped. "Tell you what, if you really need to get off so desperately, you can go go into the bathroom for a little "alone" time. I won't tell." I put my hand on the back of his neck and pulled him close so I could put my mouth next to his ear and whisper,"Just remember, the door doesn't lock and it, uh...opens out."
He grabbed my wrist, pulling it off his neck and stood up. He paced back and forth a couple times running his hand over his shaved head before yelling,"FUUUUUCK!!!!" and fixing me with an questioning glare. "How the hell do you do that? How can you be be so godamned sweet and poisonous at the same time?"
I was now sitting cross-legged on the bed, fucking with the unusually large master remote, trying to look ocupied. When he kept silent I looked up and saw him staring at me expectantly.
"Oh, you want an answser to that?" I asked innocently,"I don't know how, it's a gift." I winked at him and went back to pressing buttons.
Poor Richie was at a loss. He sighed and told me stay put, he'd be right back. I didn't bother to look up, just said,"Mmmhmm" and held my breath while I waited for him to leave the room. When I heard the door close I let myself fall back on the bed and put my arm over my eyes, trying to will my heartbeat back to normal. I was having some success until I heard,"Daaaaang,that was some fucked up shit! Did you really just allude to a possible shower rape?"
I sat up and scanned the room for uninvited cholos and discovered an irritatingly familiar disembodied head peering from the corner of window, partially obscured by R-man's gaudy drapes.
I stood and walked towards him,"You're gonna choke on those big words, allude! Pffft! How the fuck are you even up there? This trailer is like 20ft off the ground!" I looked out to find him teetering on a stack of pallets and milk crates.
He smirked at me and said,"I couldn't miss this drama, that shit was better than watching tele-novelas." he brought his hand up to wave a video cam in my face," I bet those fuckers on youtube will think so too." He started laughing, way too pleased with himself.
I reached out and smacked my palm hard against his fat head, shoving him off his rickety tower to land in a sputtering heap, somewhere out of  my range of vision, I told y'all that trailer was high. *snickering*
I could still hear him crashing around outside when Richie came back in the room, "What was that?"
"No one, er nothing important." I replied, promising myself that I would scour R-man's property until I found and destroyed Maniac's little recording! Youtube indeed!
I turned my attention to Rich, noting that the glint in his eye had dimmed considerably since my last assault on his ego, I was hoping that one dose of my acerbic tongue was enough. I started having doubts when he grabbed my hand a led me over to the bed. He sat and then pulled me down onto his lap and wrapped his arms around me, pressing his face into my shoulder. He didn't do more than that, so I stayed there. Eventually I turned towards him and hugged him back, it seemed like the thing to do and though the kicked puppy persona was clearly in evidence, he wasn't actively whining, so it was tolerable. Does that sound mean?
After a bit he just looked at me and said,"Why does shit get so fucked up when I'm with you?"
I looked back and said, "I don't know, it's a gift."
He laughed and I kissed him the forehead and then jumped off his lap and went to look through R-man's DVD collection. I avoided Requiem for a Dream like the herpes (that movie is waaaaay too fucked up for a night of light viewing) and chose Love & a .45, a personal favorite that I think I actually gave R-man for X-mas. It's not a widely distributed release, though it fucking should be!
So I got to watch movies with Richie curled up next to me, his head on my lap just like the little boy I keep telling him he is. I am so not one of those lame bitches to get all soppy over the little boy lost routine but it was extremely freakin cute! I even took a pic with my cell and sent it to Casey so he could see, haha. Not as fucked up as it sounds, I promise you. I called my angel to tell him what was going on and that I was running to Colorado the next day. Whe he asked what kind of mischief I was up to with Rich, I told him and sent the pic. (I might even post it here sometime, if it hides enough of his face to keep some meddling assclown from sending it to every P.O. in NM, some people need a fucking hobby!)
See, when it comes down to it, Casey knows I'm a mess but he trusts me just the same. I've done lots of things I shouldn't but never anything there's no coming back from, not recently anyway *wink*
I think the fact that I could but I don't means alot, just the same way he could but he hasn't. That could change but for now it's a comfortable place to be and that's all that matters. I adore Casey on a level so far above any silly jr. high flirtations, it makes everything else seem small by comparison, no bullshit.
Not saying it wouldn't be fun but ultimately not worth it, if it wrecks what I have at home. Am I a dope or what? I know what Anna Banana would say, haha but she's got issues of her own right now, so she can shut the fuck up! Love you bitch and you know I mean that in the nicest possible way.
So as you can see, I'm not dead, in jail and Casey did not murder me, chop me into bits and leave me as crow bait in the desert. Sorry to disappoint, haha.
Actually I am in excellent health and spirits! So much so that I have decided to put my well known hatred for Las Vegas, NV aside long enough to attend the 13th annual Viva Las Vegas rockabilly thingie. Couldn't give a lesser shit about the multitudes of hipster-billies that will be there, I'm just going so I can see Chuck Berry. Really can't pass up that opportunity, can I? Vicky is coming from Taos to watch the house, not that she needs to, this neighborhood is lousy with cops! Lucky me.
Too bad I've been snarfing sour bears all month and will look more like Bettie Pork Link than Bettie Page. Oh well, it is what is is haha and it's too late to cultivate an eating disorder especially for the trip. I'm sure I'll think of something to bring me back to my usual self before too long *wink* Don't worry, I'll take lots of pics so you can see me with my hair in victory rolls and Casey all greased up. I'd say we're worse than the hipster-billies but Casey's closer to a 50's grease-monkey than 75% of those fuckers and me, well I can get away with anything. Haha, seriously!
Besides, a large portion (toooo fucking large!)of those people care more about using the right brand of pomade than they do about learning the history behind the music they listen to. It goes a lil deeper than Jerry Lee Lewis and Carl Perkins, no disrespect to them, they kick ass but come the fuck on! Do some research, don't hogtie yourself  with what amounts to 50's 101, The Stray Cats and the Nekromantix! Take some pride in what you stand for and I mean really take the time to find out, looking the part is not enough! I blame that for the scores of lame-ass, substandard rockabilly/psychobilly music that has assaulted my ears of late! If I hafta see one more crappy band, dripping Murray's hair dressing and under the impression that that, combined with using the word "cat" every other godamned sentence makes them passable, I'll swallow my fucking tongue! Heheh sorry, damn that came out of nowhere huh? Just one of my peeves rearing up to say hello.
Oh and before you ask, no I did not manage to find and stomp Maniac's filmaking debut out of existance, I had just started to file it under "Fucktard Cholo Fabrications" when I recieved a voice mail where all I could hear was gleeful tweeker chortling and me and Richie playing out our little episode in the background. This was followed by him sending me a highlight reel *sigh* I will think of something appropriately evil if the youtube threat becomes a reality!!! Try me.
Hugs, kisses and all that other good shit,
~Melody Lee