Disco Blows Dogs For Quarters Man!
Alright. Here's the deal. Deal? I have no deal ... what am I talking about you ask? ... I couldn't tell you. Not the point of course. The point is: I don't have one. Perhaps I should start again ...
I'm sitting here, having just gotten home from rain walking. Which is a thoroughly enjoyable activity. It's crisp outside, drizzl-y, see-your-breath-y, windy, leaves-on-the-groud-y and I love it. Passionately. Why it puts me at ease is a mystery. In fact, it's all so enjoyable that I recommend it highly. Ha, highly. Well, you can be high ... I'm sure it couldn't hurt. It's like having to be stoned to watch the Wall: not required, but it don't hurt. So, here's the story behind rain walking. And, oh what a story it is. Actually, it's not. But, I liked it. I must stop rambling ... double you tee eff mate?
So, I rush onto my bus after school. The first time I've ridden said yellow machine of death in quite some time. Not the point of course ... but really, is anything? (Ponder.) Anyway, as the doors (come on baby light my fire) are closing I rush on. First face I see ... Dan. And Dan ... doesn't ride the bus home ... ever ... it's something he doesn't do. Who knows why. Next face I see ... Joe. And not even a shroom enduced hallucination :-D < look at me beam. Beam. Beam. hehe. Okay, enough of that. So, Dan is all call-ified on his phone during the ride home by his pops. Who apparently found ... a shit load of weed that Dan had? I'm not really sure what they were arguing about since his dad knows he gets stoned ... and other such things ... Not the point. Dan was pissed, as you would imagine and just wanted the weed back. Toke-in (heh) quote: "I don't care if you keep the pipes, just gimme back the fucking ganja!" Hilarity and tension gallore. So, I get off the bus with them only to find that Joe was all concentrate-y over the only thing a stoner can be concentrate-y about: (besides sex) a joint. Bastard rolls a joint on the bus ... and smokes very publically after being arrested. I love it, haha. Not love it ... you may misunderstand. I ... admire it? ... Eh, yeah, let's go with sick, twisted admiration. I was quite amused. In any case, on the eve of my 6th month-ness ... I did not get high. Contact highs only ... really. But I walked around with them near Stanley Quarter and the college because they weren't going to Dan's after all. I like them. hehe. Good God, this is what got me started to begin with. The loving it. The ... not seeing the downside and such. So what does 6 months without pot really mean to me? Not fucking much. Damn, I feel like I'm writing a term paper on pot. lol. A term paper with no compassion. Truly, none. I don't give a shit. I didn't used to smoke because I felt like hot shit and to rebel or ... bullshit. And I'm not presenting an excuse. I'm just tryin to make it clear. It's not really working ... whatever. For a long time, I didn't know how to act without it. I'm not the same without it. Have I lost my "edge"? ... perhaps. Have I lost my wanton lust to get freakishly high off really good weed? ... fuck no. It's just easier with people off my back. But it's not easier at home. Yay.
Alright ... uh ... off of weed (ha, literally) and void of many details ... even though I claim to not care who read my bullshit ... here's the current home situation, in the most fucked up nutshell in the world. So ... man abuses oxycontin, man gets on methadone ... lovely. Man and woman fight like people devoid of food and nicotine for a long period of time. Uh, man leaves a lot, nothing new. Woman would have no problem if she wasn't disabled and a bit criminally insane. However, she is both, and woman and child are fucked when the man leaves. Um, man and woman late night fight (and it rhymes too :-P) and it's violent? Can anyone here say deja vu? So ... we're kinda fucked money wise and ... everything wise. Dandy. Spiffy. It's all good. God, lol, I'm gay. No more airing dirty laundry. It's no fun for anyone. Wow, I am a rhyme master.
Alright, since I have nothing more of substance (ha, substances ...) to say about my life, I'll depart. However, when I'm cynical, I have an abundance of annoying puns (as you can see) so I'd avoid me if I were you. Um .. huh, there's a siren ... if there's one thing I've learned it's that apparently arrests of 3 people I know can occur on the same night ... if that's not thoroughly insane, I don't know what is. Wouldn't it have been mad funny for Mikey to be in the police station at the same time as Cuomo and Santa? .. No? Just me then? ... Okay.
Quick note though, because I was thinking about this: I wish that I were a really hot rocker guy ... just for like one day. Because, if I was said hot rocker guy I could sing my ass off doing 'Backdoor Man' with no qualms whatsoever. I mean, not that I don't now ... but ... it would be cooler if I was a guy. I could be like, "I eat more chicken than any many ever seen!!" I have no idea ... it's a deluded fantasy of mine. But I mean really ... what fantasies aren't deluded. Heh.