Twelve hours: my best friend gets to Sac & we prepare for the Gift Exchange Friday evening. I also am going to get visited by the Mormons who chased me down on my way to 711 this afternoon. I panicked, so i must deal with them. My war with the Mormons is well documented; summer of '05, they wouldn't leave me alone. This is in 100+ degress, day in & out, depsite me telling them i wasn't interested. They came when i was having sex (sadly they were the only ones). They came when i was eating. They came when i was playing video games. They came when i got the mail, went out, got in --they were ALWAYS THERE. Turns out they lived a few doors down & were basically stalking me, but still, that's no excuse to not give someone privacy. This isn't happening again. Thank god i now have a peep hole. And a thing in the door that allows me to see who's knocking. So TDS Vs the Mormons II better not happen, because i haven't the time or patience.
Said i'd post a story this time, but on second thought i won't. I'm a member of a couple writing groups here, but have only posted in one of them (Writer's Anonymous, for those wondering) & got no feedback. Story wasn't the best, but at one point i really liked it. So yeah, maybe in a little bit. Want to read any, just ask me.
You ever just find the world & people in it horribly, horribly confusing & frightening? Yeah.
Christmas is coming, & i think today it really hit me. I mean i knew, but when i went out today, it was RIGHT THERE that it's that time of year. 'Tis the season for all that crap that people either love or hate or don't celebrate. I just find myself thinking about years past, how different things were. Six years ago, i saw my brother Mike for the last time as of this writing. Long story, but there was apparently some friction with the family, specifically my mother, & he bolted from CA in the summer of '01 to live with his girlfriend (now wife) in Indiana. Got a son apparently named after me whom i've never met who's supposed to be a hell of a kid. Thanks to Mike, though, i picked up a hell of a lot of stuff, from music to movies to just general confidence. And dickery, can't forget that. Miss him. Three years ago, i came back from Redlands on a special home visit from the friendly neighborhood center of the drug addled & personally ungrown. Never been more glad to see the LC in my life...except that May when i came back for good. That's another long story. Played videogames which i missed, watched porn which i really missed, & got to talk to some of the people i'd missed that weren't related to me. And when i was three, i wanted that fat bastard Santa Claus arrested for breaking & entering, refusing to open my stocking because it might have his fingerprints on it. Good times, good times.
My parents have never come right out & admitted the fact the fat fuck doesn't exist, but have definitely gotten lazy about it. I think since our family exchanging of gifts is Christmas Eve, it never has meant as much. I still got pissed though when they started the whole yearly Eve ritual of filling & placing stockings & gifts before i went to bed. I mean, i may be cynical, but at least keep SOME illusion that there's a magical moment happening. As Christmas Eve is the major exchange, the best stuff then is given. Everything else comes the next day, which means stockings full of Slim Jims & awesome little cheeses (catagogo & [MEMBER]=Lobster_Mobster can laugh all they fucking want at that) & a couple gift bags of other things. Back in the day it was action figures, of which i had thousands. Now, it's weird shit like Sigmund Freud action figures (versus the days of X-Men) & the odd DVD or something. Miss those old days. Order of the year looks again to be gift cards, which is cool by me, if a little impersonal. But whatever, i have stupid shit i must have.
And just because i feel guilty about editing the story i was going to post out, here's a story that really happened back in Redlands. Any suckage is result of reality, not of my telling.
The place i was at in Redlands was a drug rehab & personal growth center for "young adults in transition." By no means let my time there reflect on me as a person, because i've never been addicted to drugs & have never had any severe mental issues outside of what i can best describe as a very high fucntioning autism. If nothing else, it gives me the right to joke about such things. I was only there because, since the LC's finest educational minds thought i was either crazy or trouble for reasons that were entirely fabricated, & since my mom decided to believe them because school officials NEVER lie, i was sent there. Long story short, everyone told me it was an actual boarding type school, & only let me know what it was after i signed up & arrived November 3, 2003. That's the reason November is one of my bad months. That's the abridged backstory, more upon request or boredom.
This all happened in February of 2004, if my memory serves. I was living with a guy named Jon, who at one time was a member here & friend to one of the models. Awesome guy. Never had i seen someone so natural at being an asshole, yet so hard to tell WHEN he was being an asshole. Dude was great, & the best you could hope for in a roommate. Anyway, he'd been seeing a girl named Sarah who was also part of the program. Dating was VERY frowned upon, for some reason; apparently, since this program was supposed to prepare those deemed unready for the "real world", dating never happened in reality. Unless you, you know, write a proposal. Sarah was a really nice girl, even though i didn't know her as well as i could have. At the time, i was still very, very leering of females, because after all it was a bunch of them who screwed me over back in the LC. She was quiet, smart, & had a good sense of humor. Just the kind of chick Jon would need to balance him out. They got caught having sex once, before i got there, which resulted in hilarity like Jon being accused of having AIDS like "all men," (second in charge was the owner's daughter, who had it in for anything with a dick because her father was one) & Sarah having to list everything in graphic detail. After things had cooled down, & definitely by the time i moved in with him, they had begun seeing each other again in secret. I barely knew about it myself, then came that one evening.
There was this fucking dickhead named John Beck who lived a couple doors down. I hated him, mainly because he was the type who was SO annoying, but no matter what you did, he thought you were his best friend. He was the kind of guy who would see a joke on, say, "The Simpsons," laugh at it really loud, TELL you why it was funny, then tell you how you don't appriciate it as much as he did. Throw in that he looked EXACTLY like Howdy Doody, & you just know he needs his ass whipped. Jon hated him more than i did, at the time, & every day when we got back from the Ed Center (place where they attempted to break us down, but never really succeeded), he'd do something dickish like tie things to their doorknob or throw things through their open window. This seemed to happen more after Jon hurt his arm on our "trip" to the "snow", which is more or less translated to "ice" on an "embankment" in the San Bernardino mountains. Tried to roll down a hill, fucked up his arm by ripping a fair amount of skin off, & was raw for weeks. One day, Jon got caught throwing shit in the window. His Canadian ass ran into the apartment & shut the door, holding it so presumably either Beck or a staff member couldn't come in.
"The fuck's going on?" I asked, watching "The Simpsons," amused.
"John Beck's going to come running over here in a few seconds," he said, smiling. Dude has the best obnoxious smile this side of Newt Gingrich.
We heard this rustling on the other side of the door, like someone was playing with the knob. We looked at each other, & waited. He opened the door, & saw that Beck had somehow attached the mat in front of the door to the knob. Jon yanked it off, called him a fucking idiot...the came Beck. Asshole ran from his place to mine (we were upstairs, second floor), then hit Jon with an Indian Rope Burn. On his raw arm. Jon FLIPS out, yells something obscene, & bolts after the fleeing Beck. I run to the door, because i'm always up for a fight, & because i'd pay to see Beck get fucked up. They run into his apartment, i hear some LOUD crashing & yelling, then Jon comes back, huffing & puffing. Apparently, Beck tried to throw hot bacon grease at him, pussed out, then Jon bashed him in the back with a metal broom. Saw the broom, he got him, just too low. Anyway, Jon was already having a horrible day by eight that night. His arm was all oozing, & basically he felt like shit. So when i went off for my phonecall home at eight, he was getting ready to see Sarah.
Half an hour later, i got back, & was happily watching "That '70s Show" when Jon came in, looking defeated.
"Debbie (an on property staff member & counselor, hired in off the street) caught me in Sarah's apartment."
"Yikes. Well just tell her that you were trying to help Sarah find her mop."
"I was in her bed."
"...so you had trouble finding her mop."
"I'm so fucked."
"And you're in trouble."
This lead to them putting him on house restriction (can't leave the house, & they took our TV out because fun is bad), only getting out to smoke when a staff member could watch him. This lead to one of the most unintentionally funny lines i've heard, when Jon told Debbie they weren't having sex, Debbie said he was a liar because she "could see the speed of your movement."
My role ended up being hanging out with Jon because he was going insane. He boiled a box of illegal tea (we weren't allowed hot caffinated drinks), then, when it was too hot, put it in the freezer. Took it out three hours later. Starting having some vile nicotine fits, which ended up with him punching the wall & talking about how he wanted to tie Beck to a board & pour boiling water on him. It just got odd. They also made him & Sarah write a list of all the "secret" couples in the program. Brilliant idea. They always did things like this, & a few days after the events of that day happened, they made every one of us --thirty people, at least-- write a "dirt list" of everything bad that we have seen or heard about. They sat us all in a circle, & one by one picked us out & interrogated us in front of each other. This spawned much more interesting stories than this one, now that i think about it. Anyway, after a day of this, Jon decided to follow a suggestion i'd made a few days earlier: leave. Go AWOL. Jon was & is CRAZY rich, by the way, so this made more sense than it would for me to bolt. That night, during the dinner hour when no one was out & about, he walked across the street to Circle K to call his brother's friend...only to forget the number. Then he decided to call his brother for the number, & set up some arrangements.He packed a bag, & headed out. I made sure to follow at a safe distance, since a mini crowd was developing. Staff went nuts when Sarah followed him. They just walked down the street, to the Circle K, & waited for their ride, yelling & gesturing just enough to make me proud. My feeling was, as sorry as i was to see them go, i was happy as hell they got out.
Seen Jon a couple times after that, but it's been awhile. Last i heard they were still together, which is cool. Beck left eventually, but not after i had to live with him (another more interesting story). Anyone sees his Howdy Doody ass in Dallas, kick him in the fucking balls.
I'll end this now, because that story is funnier in my head.
Said i'd post a story this time, but on second thought i won't. I'm a member of a couple writing groups here, but have only posted in one of them (Writer's Anonymous, for those wondering) & got no feedback. Story wasn't the best, but at one point i really liked it. So yeah, maybe in a little bit. Want to read any, just ask me.
You ever just find the world & people in it horribly, horribly confusing & frightening? Yeah.
Christmas is coming, & i think today it really hit me. I mean i knew, but when i went out today, it was RIGHT THERE that it's that time of year. 'Tis the season for all that crap that people either love or hate or don't celebrate. I just find myself thinking about years past, how different things were. Six years ago, i saw my brother Mike for the last time as of this writing. Long story, but there was apparently some friction with the family, specifically my mother, & he bolted from CA in the summer of '01 to live with his girlfriend (now wife) in Indiana. Got a son apparently named after me whom i've never met who's supposed to be a hell of a kid. Thanks to Mike, though, i picked up a hell of a lot of stuff, from music to movies to just general confidence. And dickery, can't forget that. Miss him. Three years ago, i came back from Redlands on a special home visit from the friendly neighborhood center of the drug addled & personally ungrown. Never been more glad to see the LC in my life...except that May when i came back for good. That's another long story. Played videogames which i missed, watched porn which i really missed, & got to talk to some of the people i'd missed that weren't related to me. And when i was three, i wanted that fat bastard Santa Claus arrested for breaking & entering, refusing to open my stocking because it might have his fingerprints on it. Good times, good times.
My parents have never come right out & admitted the fact the fat fuck doesn't exist, but have definitely gotten lazy about it. I think since our family exchanging of gifts is Christmas Eve, it never has meant as much. I still got pissed though when they started the whole yearly Eve ritual of filling & placing stockings & gifts before i went to bed. I mean, i may be cynical, but at least keep SOME illusion that there's a magical moment happening. As Christmas Eve is the major exchange, the best stuff then is given. Everything else comes the next day, which means stockings full of Slim Jims & awesome little cheeses (catagogo & [MEMBER]=Lobster_Mobster can laugh all they fucking want at that) & a couple gift bags of other things. Back in the day it was action figures, of which i had thousands. Now, it's weird shit like Sigmund Freud action figures (versus the days of X-Men) & the odd DVD or something. Miss those old days. Order of the year looks again to be gift cards, which is cool by me, if a little impersonal. But whatever, i have stupid shit i must have.
And just because i feel guilty about editing the story i was going to post out, here's a story that really happened back in Redlands. Any suckage is result of reality, not of my telling.
The place i was at in Redlands was a drug rehab & personal growth center for "young adults in transition." By no means let my time there reflect on me as a person, because i've never been addicted to drugs & have never had any severe mental issues outside of what i can best describe as a very high fucntioning autism. If nothing else, it gives me the right to joke about such things. I was only there because, since the LC's finest educational minds thought i was either crazy or trouble for reasons that were entirely fabricated, & since my mom decided to believe them because school officials NEVER lie, i was sent there. Long story short, everyone told me it was an actual boarding type school, & only let me know what it was after i signed up & arrived November 3, 2003. That's the reason November is one of my bad months. That's the abridged backstory, more upon request or boredom.
This all happened in February of 2004, if my memory serves. I was living with a guy named Jon, who at one time was a member here & friend to one of the models. Awesome guy. Never had i seen someone so natural at being an asshole, yet so hard to tell WHEN he was being an asshole. Dude was great, & the best you could hope for in a roommate. Anyway, he'd been seeing a girl named Sarah who was also part of the program. Dating was VERY frowned upon, for some reason; apparently, since this program was supposed to prepare those deemed unready for the "real world", dating never happened in reality. Unless you, you know, write a proposal. Sarah was a really nice girl, even though i didn't know her as well as i could have. At the time, i was still very, very leering of females, because after all it was a bunch of them who screwed me over back in the LC. She was quiet, smart, & had a good sense of humor. Just the kind of chick Jon would need to balance him out. They got caught having sex once, before i got there, which resulted in hilarity like Jon being accused of having AIDS like "all men," (second in charge was the owner's daughter, who had it in for anything with a dick because her father was one) & Sarah having to list everything in graphic detail. After things had cooled down, & definitely by the time i moved in with him, they had begun seeing each other again in secret. I barely knew about it myself, then came that one evening.
There was this fucking dickhead named John Beck who lived a couple doors down. I hated him, mainly because he was the type who was SO annoying, but no matter what you did, he thought you were his best friend. He was the kind of guy who would see a joke on, say, "The Simpsons," laugh at it really loud, TELL you why it was funny, then tell you how you don't appriciate it as much as he did. Throw in that he looked EXACTLY like Howdy Doody, & you just know he needs his ass whipped. Jon hated him more than i did, at the time, & every day when we got back from the Ed Center (place where they attempted to break us down, but never really succeeded), he'd do something dickish like tie things to their doorknob or throw things through their open window. This seemed to happen more after Jon hurt his arm on our "trip" to the "snow", which is more or less translated to "ice" on an "embankment" in the San Bernardino mountains. Tried to roll down a hill, fucked up his arm by ripping a fair amount of skin off, & was raw for weeks. One day, Jon got caught throwing shit in the window. His Canadian ass ran into the apartment & shut the door, holding it so presumably either Beck or a staff member couldn't come in.
"The fuck's going on?" I asked, watching "The Simpsons," amused.
"John Beck's going to come running over here in a few seconds," he said, smiling. Dude has the best obnoxious smile this side of Newt Gingrich.
We heard this rustling on the other side of the door, like someone was playing with the knob. We looked at each other, & waited. He opened the door, & saw that Beck had somehow attached the mat in front of the door to the knob. Jon yanked it off, called him a fucking idiot...the came Beck. Asshole ran from his place to mine (we were upstairs, second floor), then hit Jon with an Indian Rope Burn. On his raw arm. Jon FLIPS out, yells something obscene, & bolts after the fleeing Beck. I run to the door, because i'm always up for a fight, & because i'd pay to see Beck get fucked up. They run into his apartment, i hear some LOUD crashing & yelling, then Jon comes back, huffing & puffing. Apparently, Beck tried to throw hot bacon grease at him, pussed out, then Jon bashed him in the back with a metal broom. Saw the broom, he got him, just too low. Anyway, Jon was already having a horrible day by eight that night. His arm was all oozing, & basically he felt like shit. So when i went off for my phonecall home at eight, he was getting ready to see Sarah.
Half an hour later, i got back, & was happily watching "That '70s Show" when Jon came in, looking defeated.
"Debbie (an on property staff member & counselor, hired in off the street) caught me in Sarah's apartment."
"Yikes. Well just tell her that you were trying to help Sarah find her mop."
"I was in her bed."
"...so you had trouble finding her mop."
"I'm so fucked."
"And you're in trouble."
This lead to them putting him on house restriction (can't leave the house, & they took our TV out because fun is bad), only getting out to smoke when a staff member could watch him. This lead to one of the most unintentionally funny lines i've heard, when Jon told Debbie they weren't having sex, Debbie said he was a liar because she "could see the speed of your movement."
My role ended up being hanging out with Jon because he was going insane. He boiled a box of illegal tea (we weren't allowed hot caffinated drinks), then, when it was too hot, put it in the freezer. Took it out three hours later. Starting having some vile nicotine fits, which ended up with him punching the wall & talking about how he wanted to tie Beck to a board & pour boiling water on him. It just got odd. They also made him & Sarah write a list of all the "secret" couples in the program. Brilliant idea. They always did things like this, & a few days after the events of that day happened, they made every one of us --thirty people, at least-- write a "dirt list" of everything bad that we have seen or heard about. They sat us all in a circle, & one by one picked us out & interrogated us in front of each other. This spawned much more interesting stories than this one, now that i think about it. Anyway, after a day of this, Jon decided to follow a suggestion i'd made a few days earlier: leave. Go AWOL. Jon was & is CRAZY rich, by the way, so this made more sense than it would for me to bolt. That night, during the dinner hour when no one was out & about, he walked across the street to Circle K to call his brother's friend...only to forget the number. Then he decided to call his brother for the number, & set up some arrangements.He packed a bag, & headed out. I made sure to follow at a safe distance, since a mini crowd was developing. Staff went nuts when Sarah followed him. They just walked down the street, to the Circle K, & waited for their ride, yelling & gesturing just enough to make me proud. My feeling was, as sorry as i was to see them go, i was happy as hell they got out.
Seen Jon a couple times after that, but it's been awhile. Last i heard they were still together, which is cool. Beck left eventually, but not after i had to live with him (another more interesting story). Anyone sees his Howdy Doody ass in Dallas, kick him in the fucking balls.
I'll end this now, because that story is funnier in my head.
And you are a damn cheese freak.
Saturday morning... you and Best Friend are still wanting a ride to ze Lake, correct?
I would like to read some of your stories...
hey, are we still getting together tonight?