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I heard so many times "quit drinking and your life will become better", "quit watching porn and you'll feel less depressed", "quit smoking weed and your depersonalization will go away", etc etc. I'm so sick of it!
My life is screwed up since my childhood. I've been feeling depressed and alone my whole life. It did not start with drinking, porn or weed.
Why do you think I use this mood-altering things in the first place, goddammit??!?
I'm not defending the harmful use of drugs or anything else but being sober dosent seem to improve my life one bit. In fact, I seem to get into more trouble sober than I do drunk. My emotions go into overdrive when I'm sober and my behaviour seems to be even worse sober than drunk.
Quitting this or that shit doesnt seem to have any effect on my life other than make me so uncomfortable I just cant stand it.

A continuation...

Our kosher casanova and would be coke kingpin resisted his natural urges and stayed in his own hotel room for the rest of the night. The next day he and the boss' wife make the drop and returned to Sao Paulo. As the woman wordlessly exits the car and enters the mansion the ACTUAL kingpin asks how the delivery went. "No problem" says the deliveryboy. The kingpin next asks him if he had slept with his wife. As the ambitious small time dealer stammers and stutters the kingpin pulls out a pistol and aims it at the shocked man. "Was my wife ugly? Why didn't you sleep with her?" He then waits a few seconds as the guy gets even more tongue tied and then breaks out in laughter, "Welcome to the family!!!" This episode was so fake that it actually disgusted me. Religious Jews never allow themselves to be alone with any woman other than their wife. Even if the protagonist decided to make that huge leap, there is no way in the world that the kingpin- ALSO a religious Jew- would send his wife off alone with ANY man, even his own biological brother, let alone some dickhead who has made 2 buys off of him.

The would be cocaine baron tells the camera that he told the kingpin that he works alone and the boss replied, "I like that!" So he then incredibly claims that they then worked as partners hahaha. You buy a kilo or two 3 times, he now trusts you with his luxury automobile, $50 Million in proceeds AND his gorgeous trophy wife? Not only that but then he makes you his PARTNER? Hahahaha whatever.

Next the kingpin takes him to meet the company chemist, Ramon, in the "lab." Ramon is actually wearing a white lab coat in a fully equipped scientific laboratory? I wasn't doing anything but laughing at the insane claims this guy was making. He said that Ramon shocked him by producing souveiner dinner plates of the type people hang on their walls. Appearing like porcelain, glazed and with painted designs the guy says it was "100 percent pure." There is no such thing as 100 percent purity. It isn't even theoretically possible. 98.9? Sure. Even 99 percent. Above that? It just won't happen

Next, the guy claims that he and his "partner" had learned that a shipping container of theirs filled with coke had been hijacked by a rival organisation. He and his partner took some underlings, the whole group being Chassidic Jews, in the black suits, fedoras, curled sidelocks and beards like Santa Claus. They are walking down the street like an Old West posse when the other group initiated a firefight with assault rifles. All the Jews had were small caliber pistols and yet they supposedly came out on top.

The next scene, the guy says he was about to take a trip when a fellow Chasiddic Jew begged to borrow his automobile so that he could pick up his wife at the airport. After being nagged the would be kingpin gave in and handed him the keys. As the guy turns the ignition a carbomb detonates. The protagonist said that the attempt on his life convinced him to give up his burgeoning drug career. As he is packing his bags getting ready to leave Sao Paulo, the Federal Police kick in his door raid his flat...

To be continued...

A free fall into the Darkest void of the Drug World


'Priscilla



As of lately I've neglected a lot of my responsibilities and thus my financial, family and mental well-being have been greatly hampered with. The girl I'm dating, not to blame, is a factor in me losing control of my own life.

The girl, (Priscilla, not her real name) has put me in a position where she wants me to spend even more time with her than I previously had. That would require literally a full time day-to-day hang out session doing nothing constructive. If I were to do as she wishes, I could kiss my future good bye. Sure I may be able to live with her for a few months, but eventually I would grow weak. She would lose interest. And then Renz Envy has lost everything for a girlfriend.

I love Priscilla, but Priscilla likes speed. I'm not completely comfortable dating someone who can take a sex drug that gives the user sociopathic tendencies. I take speed too, but my sociopathic attitude is withheld by a framework of fundamental morals. She enjoys the high risk situations. Guns, fast cars, hot sex, organized theft. I enjoy art, science, novelty, and peace.

I've long suspected she was cheating on me fairly consistently. She denies it, but I watch her eyes dart up-to the left-to the right, when confronted with a question like, "Why did you disappear for 3 hours last night?". I've never been the kind to cheat. I understand a lot of people think it's fun to do something wrong and dirty, but in the end, the people who seek instant gratification at the expense of others always seem to be the ones begging for forgiveness. I consider myself a very seasoned lie detector.

To her I am greedy and selfish. Her life style took a turn for the worse one night when she was charged with drug possession. She is now on probation and has to quit her addictions. I am greedy and selfish, because I am not constrained due to my conservative approach when it comes to risk taking. In this case, the person in the back seat was selling an 8-ball of dope to what was clearly a police officer.

There is a unique feeling I get while in a position of danger:

1) Anxiety, unease, fight or flight response
2) Reaffirming that the situation is dangerous (I know that guy is a LEO and he doesn't want meth.)
3) My vibes anger everyone else as their internal cognition is so twisted that this situation seemed legit.

I left and got to my car. I was yelled at, called selfish and not deserving of Priscilla for my girlfriend. But folks, there's a lot of mice who dart for the cheese in the mousetrap, and they're all trapped. Later that night I got word that they had been sent to jail by a brigade of armored police. They had been set up 3 times that night.
Check mate. Drug career is over. Find a new life.
I even called out every set up. They thought I was paranoid.

No, Priscilla wanted to continue using despite her legal obligations. It wasn't until she began to crash, that I saw how weak she was. Fragile, anxious, broken, a once straight A student reduced to a homeless meth addict for the love of the game. I couldn't dislike her. I loved her despite the things she had done to me behind my back. The abundance of free drugs being in the friendship circle was obscene. I was no more guilty than she was. Perhaps I was using her for drugs, but then again I would rather be with her in a world without drugs than lose her in a world with all the drugs I ever wanted.

She cried. She refused to open up to me. It was time for Renz Envy to quit walking down the valley of incarceration-death and begin a new path toward glory. I want to provide a shelter for her and be with her all day. We love each other. But I'm afraid my words were all caustic.

"I want to help you, but I can't help both of us if I'm sinking. I want to be a good boyfriend with a loving family and friends, not a bum. I need time to make the money to provide for us." Renz Envy preached.
"Wow, That was a slap in the face." Priscilla complained, "If you can't be with me more often, I'm not going to be your gf."

It was like that. I was stuck in an uphill battle. She thinks I'm greedy and selfish for getting my destroyed life back on track. She may imagine that I can actually make a living as a white male, selling hard drugs and living constantly on the run with her. Hah. I'll be destroyed by both sides. Law and the organizations. Middle class white boys typically go off and do other things with their lives... Like becoming doctors or accountants. A drug dealer... Maybe marijuana, but meth? No. Talk about getting robbed for a living. Not like I could retaliate very well. That and almost every man I know ends up in prison.
_____________________________________________________________________________________________
Girls? Well, the ones with a little brains, like Priscilla, are scary at drug dealing. Get two girls with a fairly rich man. Priscilla uses her charm to distract the unfortunate horny bloke while the second girl stashes his valuables in her purse. After the sex and love is over, the guy is given GHB, where he's too scatterbrained to know what was lost until they're long gone. This was a drug deal.
Drug deal(profit) + Valuables taken (Like credit cards, SSN, DL, gold, you name it) = Money. Not to mention girls get nearly half discounts on bulk prices. He thought he was getting a good deal, until he realizes he can't report them for fear of rape charges as he was administering them GHB.

I was never invited to the big hotel parties, with the intense sex, Breaking Bad level Methamphetamine, Wine coolers of GHB, Kush forests and the big bosses throwing their dollar bills at young attractive women. I never really felt I would fit in. I'm no crook. I'd clean a product and be a good business man, but the eyes of the law seem to glare back at my mind's eye as I daydream.
______________________________________________________________________________________________
Priscilla was always invited to these hotel events. I can only imagine her getting sky high and having sex with one of the bosses. Getting money and more tools to satisfy her insatiable lust for power. GHB and meth is just about the last thing you want your significant other to take without you in the room. Talk about heart break.

Does Renz Envy care? He has no proof and the steps taken to get proof of Priscilla cheating are threatening to him, therefore Renz Envy will chill and treat her nicely. It's a thieve's world. We form relationships for personal gain. Some are investments, some are liabilities. Jumping straight to the, "you're cheating" card is exactly what everyone else would do, and thus they'd lose a bright, beautiful, independent girl with frightening ambition.


This concludes part one of Renz Envy's attempt to reach an emotional breakage point. Heart Break, Meth Psychosis, Alcohol withdrawals, Benzo withdrawals and other stresses. I hit the breaking point once and lost all sense of reason. During those 36 hours of hell, I had created so many hypothetical situations, that one of them actually turned out to be a very very intricate truth. Too accurate to be a guess. Yet it was a guess.

The following was written about:
Meth
GHB
Alcohol
Marijuana
Klonopin
Lyrica
Kava
L-tryptophan
Taurine
Gaba Plus

No drugs were used in the production of this fictional piece of work...

This article was created to give an idea of how the meth world runs. Feel free to criticize, I'm pretty much out of all that. PM me if you have any serious questions.(I will answer questions about culture, but do not ask names or hook ups.)

"There are Old Thieves and there are Bold Thieves, but there are no Old Bold Thieves."

Click to expand...

So things have been less than great this last week. But I am determined to put it out of my head and have a great time tonight with my friends. I have stressed so much about getting having and holding on to this group of people. Tonight is the payoff I hope. Flux Pavillion ecstacy Atlanta hotel rooms New Years its all on. Im going to party like the end is nigh, because I have a feeling it may be. For me anyway. I am going back off to school in a few weeks. Everything is in constant movement and I am often still standing still trying to hold thje pieces together long after others are creating new puzzles. Call me a hopeless romantic but I really believe everyone is in my life for a reason its not black and white good or bad its just words and actions. But for once In am with the curve I am a part of something larger than me and I feel good about it. Now if I can just be happy with me. Well im working on that. But im out. Much love to my BL friends.............

A continuation...

So, this Chassidic (Hassidic) bullshit artist is sitting there telling National Geographic how he was new to Antwerp, a 23 year old newly divorced man, busy working as a stockboy in a Jewish corner greengrocer. One day, out of the blue, another Chassidic Jew asks him if he would like to take an all expences paid trip to Sao Paulo, Brasil. Now, if it wasn't a Chassidic Jew in his early 20s I might doubt this part but truth be told, they are like children. Imagine never having seen TV, never having listened to a radio- or any non-religious music whatsoever, never going to the cinema...never talking to a non-Chassidic Jew. This is how most live.

I'm actually a product of a Chassidic eduacation, until age 12 anyway. In my case, the Breslov Chassidim are the hippies of the religious Jewish world but enough of that for now...

Our protagonist arrives in Sao Paulo and is met by another Chassid he didn't know. At the end of his sedate week's vacation, his tourguide hands him a bulky manila envelope and tells him to pass it on to the guy paying for the vacation. "Sure, why not?" Back in Antwerp his benefactor meets him in a parking garage. The guy doesn't say anything but, "You got my package? You got it? You got it???" The Jew that just returned is like, "Gosh, why doesn't he even ask me how my trip was?" Hahaha. He hands over the envelope and the other guy screeches out of the carpark on 2 wheels.

Later he stops by the clueless guy's flat and hands him the equivalent of $10,000. He is like, "What the fuuuuuuuuck???" The dealer still has the envelope for some reason and rips it open on one of those cheap glass coffee tables and tells him, "You know what this is buddy? THIS is cocaine!!!" The guy is still clueless, "What is cocaine? What do you do with it?" The dealer giggles and tells him it makes you feel great, and if you sell it you can make five times your initial investment, then leaves.

A week or two later he asks him if he feels like another trip to Brasil. No doubt but this time, the mule asks to forgo the $10,000 commission and instead be allowed to be able to buy the same package that he is picking up fo the dealer, a kilo. After returning the dummy remembers that he has no idea whom to sell it to. "No problem" says the dealer. "I will send a boy by later. He will handle it." An hour later a Moroccan lad is at the door. Bagging it up he disappears with 20 bags, returns with the cash, and repeats the process until the entire kilo is bagged and sold- supposedly all in a single evening. Suuuuuure. Can't everyone sell a kilo worth of pure, stepped on and bagged as dimes? Hahaha. Whatever.

So now comes trip number three. Arriving in Sao Paulo he is told that the "Boss" would like to meet him. I am sure kingpins aim to meet every kilo customer who has made two buys. What a joke. He is taken to a nightclub with sexy Brasilian women and lo and behold, the "Boss" is an ultra religious Jew with a penchant for exotic ass. Meeting the Big Kosher Kahuna our hero is brusquely told to show up at the Boss' mansion the next day.

Nervously our would be coke kingpin does as he is ordered. He is instructed to drive the Boss' Bentley, carrying some insane amount like $50 Million and to boot, the Boss' amazingly sexy wife is going along for the trip. You just meet some smalltime fish and after 2 small buys you not only trust him your Bentley...not only with $50 Million in cold hard cash...but your voluptuous wife as well? Riiiiiiight.

As the mule and the Boss' wife take off she begins telling the courier how sexy he is and all that kind of bullshit. You need to remember, this is a 23 year old Chassidic Jew, shaved head, curled sidelocks, wearing the same black clothes they all wear and with a huge stomach as well! They stop at a motel for the night and of course she tries to convince the courier to share her room...and her bed...

To be continued...

When I travel, I usually limit my luggage to one backpack about the size a college student would wear to class. This backpack has room for a few articles of clothing, maybe 1 pants, a couple of shirts, a sweater, and an extra underpants. Then I put in a laptop, sketchbook, pencil, snacks, toothbrush, dental floss, dramamine tablets, and a few gadgets besides my laptop: a flashlight, mp3 player, earbuds, batteries, cell phone, camera. A few books top it off. Everything is easy to choose and pack except for the books. I struggle with trying to decide which books to take. There's usually whatever I'm currently reading, and then a couple I might start on the trip. I might throw in a few magazines as well. Then there are technical papers I need to catch up with for work. But what if I'm not in the mood for any of these or I'm tired of what I'm reading and want something else? What if what I want to read is huge?

This comes up not only with traveling, but with mountain climbing trips as well. When I'm in the wilderness, I like to get my hike done by mid afternoon, then set up camp and have time to relax, do some stretches, take in the scenery, read and write, and push some boulders off the mountaintop (just kidding). No matter where I go, I have to take reading material with me. This is a psychological compulsion.

My material includes everything from outdoor military style survival guides, topographic maps, climbing route guides, to every field guide one could conceivably use from tree, bird, wild flower, mineral, edible plant, mushroom, to star charts so I can some star gazing, and fiction books. Those and some technical papers for work. So, I end up with a lot of heavy stuff in my pack. I would take a laptop or a tablet into the wilderness if they weren't so fragile and had better battery life.

I recently looked into e-readers. These are small, portable, tablet-like computers which are about the size and weight of one paper-backed book. They display books published in the form of electronic media the way one would read a pdf file, new article, or a word processor document. And for some, the battery lasts a couple of months without needing to be recharged.

One drawback is that many are locked into a proprietary format that the tablet's particular manufacturer wants to force you to purchase (kindle/mobi/epub/djvu/etc...). Well there are always ways around restrictions such as proprietary formatting, so with that in mind, I bought one, a second-hand "Nook Simple Touch" e-reader posted on craigslist by a guy in Sausalito. The day I bought it, I loaded it with over 7,000 electronic texts.

Upon researching its specs, I found that for a brain it has an 800 MHZ CPU. The memory is 256 MB, and it has up to 32 GB hard drive space. It also has built in wifi and runs an "Android" operating system. What that means in non-technical terms is that if it could be unlocked, it could have the computational power of a desktop computer circa 1999 or so and the storage space of an entire library. Such a computer could surf the internet, do word-processing, play videos, display any kind of text document, pdf, or e-book.

So how to unlock this potential? Upon googling, one learns that some clever people have devised methods (also known as hacks) to do this. I chose an easy hack known as the touchnooter which can be done in several simple steps. I followed the instruction and was done in 15 minutes or so. I installed a few games, mostly old text games from the 1980s like Zork and variants. It uses the Java programming language. I've even started writing a "lunar lander" game for it in Java but am having trouble figuring out how to implement Java screen touch events to control the maneuvering thrusters. I've also installed software to let it read ebooks in any format including word processor documents, pdf files, ebooks, mobi, epub, and others formatted for other e-readers.

Sadly, there are some glitches. Although I'm reading bluelight with it, and I can read forums and blogs, bluelight goes to mobile-mode by default and I have no idea how to post in bluelight's mobile-mode. And while i can watch Youtube videos on it, there is no sound. Apparently it has no audio circuitry built in.

swear i'll run away from every home I ever have
So i'll build a new house in every town i pass.
Maybe then I won't always feel lost and trapped.
When I was growing up, i was the smartest kid i knew.
Maybe that was just because I didnt know that many kids.
All I know is now I feel the opposite.
Like if you dont want to work, then that becomes your job.
Theres a lot of overtime, theres not many days off.
I hope you know that I'm not trying to complain.
It just gets hard to explain to people that I know, or kids who come to shows
that I just dont want to talk about the office today.

'Cause i've watched friends go from being pessimists to work at home archeologists
they dig skin deep, they work every day
i'm burying their arms for a vein or two that maybe they forgot.


And the cops say its a crime for people like me and those friends of mine to want to die
like my neighbor in St. Pete
she's been on house arrest down here
if she tries to leave her yard they'll lock her in a cage for years.
cause sometimes she wants to die.
and she shoots dope when she thinks she could die
and the law they caught her one too many times
shootin dope when she felt like she could die.

We're building a new world, all of my friends and me
its not an exact science yet, but we have the technology.
now all we need is an economy where everybody finally will get enough to eat, even the suburbs
no powers getting too crooked to stand on its own feet for much longer than it has.

So i dont want to kill a cop, what i want is neighborhoods where they don't have to get called
when the shit goes down
cause our friends, they are enough, and our neighbors have enough.
finally we're enough.

cause our friends, they are enough.
and our neighbors are enough.
and finally we're enough
please help me be enough.


fuck the law cause we're enough
fuck the boss cause we're enough
fuck microsoft cause we're enough
fuck owning stocks cause we're enough
fuck you cause we're enough
fuck moving to brooklyn cause we're enough
fuck the clash cause we're enough
fuck martial stacks cause we're enough
quit what you don't love cause we're enough
live as you make it up cause we're enough
you'll never go without cause we're enough
we'll buy a house cause we're enough
we'll grow some food cause we're enough
we'll slam some dunks cause we're enough
don't be afraid cause we're enough
you'll always be ok because we'll always be enough.

I've given up the stuff for good. Everything I had that reminds me of that past life has been thrown away-well almost everything has been thrown away- though stray reminders still haunt me. When I look back at my past I don't know if it was fun I was having or if the drugs told me I was having fun, but it was the most memorable time of my life. I have been away for so long that I had to reset the console and reboot myself. Now that I have this dream in all of its entirety I find myself drowning in swimming pools full of liquor. Oh well, I guess it's never truly over until a new beginning finds you.

I got this when I was 15, thought it was a 'mini bass' tried to string it up as such, could never get it to tune right, forgot about it for 15 years, fastforward to a month ago and i was reading about tenor guitar, I loved the sound of it, and then digging in the storage I found my 'mini bass' and it looked just like the tenor guitar I was reading about...measured and it has the same scale (23"), too short to be a guitar, too short to be a 'short scale bass' but it has bass head tuner parts, wtf?

Tried stringing it as a tenor guitar and it *worked* and had a really neat sound, but it wasn't right....so I got the bright idea to use the top two strings from 4-string bass and the two low strings from guitar.....so as to tune this like a tenor..one octave lower...a tenor-bass.

I have never heard of one, but it sounds AWESOME. I love it because I can play some incredible bass-like melody, and I can do lead guitar work (normally I shun lead work on a 6 string, strings too close together).

I'll have to get a video of what this thing sounds like. And I will absolutely have to buy a real tenor guitar now,

https://skydrive.live.com/redir?resid=55830B5E3B7E76!223&authkey=!ALPFdpVIoHPVVFI

I gave in to lust.

My problem is that I want to be liked. I want to be the most liked. I think others' opinion of me makes me better or worse. I lie and put forward facades and manipulate and pretend to be someone I'm not. I'm afraid people won't like me and I won't be the most liked.

God, relieve me of my character defects and turn my attention toward what you would have me be.

Merry Christmas everyone. I thought about posting Merry Crassmas or something similar but I'm not really in the mood.

I got the design for an atomic bomb if anyone's interested.

Worth billions I'm sure.

Email me [email protected]


Heres a paragraph... You know what those are right?


When a U-235 atom splits, it gives off energy in the form of heat and
Gamma radiation, which is the most powerful form of radioactivity and the most
lethal. When this reaction occurs, the split atom will also give off two or
three of its `spare' neutrons, which are not needed to make either Barium or
Krypton. These spare neutrons fly out with sufficient force to split other
atoms they come in contact with. [See chart below] In theory, it is
necessary to split only one U-235 atom, and the neutrons from this will split
other atoms, which will split more...so on and so forth. This progression
does not take place arithmetically, but geometrically. All of this will
happen within a millionth of a second.

I fucking hate holidays and the fact that I have to spend this won in a one bedroom hotel with my fucking parents. Not even the heroin I have been shooting can make this not suck horribly. I am not even sure how I got fucked into coming on this trip too begin with. Its like im 24 going on 13. I just cant stand this I need to get away. But if I want to finish college im stuck dealing with there bullshit. Maybe I should join the army I think I would rather deal with pissed off Taliban then the constant shame and humiliation these people lay on me. I really wanna just walk out the hotel room door tommorow and never speak to anyone I know again. Either I make it or die trying. I fucking hate my life yet I still somehow lack the motivation to change it. Im so stuck. So fucked.

Not sure why thinking about this but seeing that thread about bad copping experiences reminded me of something but it doesn't really fit the thread. It's not really a copping story but a long time ago I knew this guy named B. He always had weed and pills, and while he had a good connect through his brother he was always kind of a douche. He liked to act like he was the big man when in reality his bro's crew (who met once and were a bunch of creeps) were backing everything, plus his girlfriend had once been with one of my best friends so there was some weirdness seeing her with him. Also always hated going to his place, he had some burnout roommate straight out of that "American Movie" documentary who'd covered all of their walls in pictures from horror movie mags, so between B's bullshit, the metal heads passed out all over the place on weed and codeine, and all those pics of chopped up body parts it wasn't the greatest scene.

Anyway one time I dropped by but instead of being his usual douche B was all quiet. Plus he was hunched over and slamming beers, and he really wasn't a drinker. I asked what was up, he said he had a stomach ache, then he said he was out but knew some corner guys downtown. So we got in my car and he's still pounding beers and then he rolls down the window and starts puking. I'm like wtf man, then he lifts his t-shirt and shows this bloody bandage made out of paper towels. He tells me there was some kind of problem between him and someone in his bro's crew, and he'd been stabbed with a hacked-off antennae. I tried telling him go to the ER and after that maybe get out of town but he kept saying it was cool, everything would get straightened out. The whole time he's drinking Budweiser, soaked in sweat, pale as a ghost and puking. By the time we got to the corner the guys there looked at him like he was insane, one of them just shook his head.

Brought B back to his place, kept asking if didn't want a lift to the ER but he said it was cool, his bro would straighten everything out real soon. I told him to take care of himself and left, I knew it was shitty but I was young, didn't know to do, and honestly I just wanted to get as far away as possible from that apartment-- with the horror posters everywhere and him changing wads of bloody paper towels I felt like I was going insane too. That was the last time saw B and just a few days later the police brought him in, though afterwards no one was sure whether he was arrested or had turned himself in hoping for protection. Either way, when push came to shove and he was given the choice of talking or doing time, he hung himself in his cell.

Still not sure why remembering all this tonight. Maybe cause along with horror posters B's apartment had Christmas lights strung along the walls, can still see his girlfriend sitting beneath those lights, stoned out of her skull on pills and pot, telling me she was going to leave B cause she felt caged. He'd just bought her a bunch of cheesy helium balloons for her birthday, and they were floating above her, reflecting the lights, and poor pathetic B was so psyched about giving her those balloons but for her all they did was confirm it was time to split. She left him and took off to Florida just a couple weeks before B died, and looking back at all this it's so funny-- when it was happening all this drama seemed to play out forever but in reality it was only a few months, just one short, ugly, messed up summer. Like during a car crash, or grief, or great pain, clocks and calendars don't truly gauge time.

"Funny how falling feels like flying, for a little while."
"Time flies when you're falling down"
"e=mc2"

RIP B, you should gave been a used car salesman, you would have been perfect.

I decide to write. Anyways it's past four in the morning and I can't sleep because I ended up sleeping in until six yesterday evening. I fell asleep in my cousin's bed because she's still not home from break and sleeping on the couch the other night sucked. So I decided not to get up at all and I'm pretty sure I could have just stayed there. I however did get up and decided to socialize with my family, which in the end made me wish I stayed in bed.

I'm up in Connecticut right now seeing family and some of my old friends. I truly did not want to come up though but somehow I did. All my family says that they missed me but the worst thing is I didn't even miss any of them. I kind of didn't even miss my sister and that's horrible because we always have been so close. I'm not going to lie though and say that I truly want to be here. I rather be back in Pennsylvania and that's saying a lot because it's hell living down there. It's hell living this life full of letdowns.... I'd rather be alone at my apartment than anywhere else. It's just lately I haven't had a break and I really do need one. A break from everyone is what I truly need and maybe even a break from myself, too bad I can't get either.

See here I go again with all the depressing thoughts.... I just wish I was happy and could beat this never ending depression. I've been depressed for way too long... I'm tired of having no hope and I'm tired of being the way I am. Why do I have to see the bad in everything before the good? Why doesn't life or the people in my life bring me happiness anymore? Why can't I bring myself happiness? I really do think I need to get into counseling but every time I tried to call the places around me they were not accepting new patients. How fucking hard is it to get help in this godforsaken place?

My Psychology Professor had said in class that December is actually the month with the lowest suicide rate. He said that all the accusations about it being the most depressing month are not true. He said it is also the easiest month to get into facilities around my area. I immediately thought, "Oh I should call back!" Sadly I have yet to do that and I'm not even sure if I want to. I called multiple places before and they all ask me if I did drugs in the last 6 months and all I could mutter was the word uh. They told me it's okay if you don't want to say it over the phone... I don't know I just could not get myself to tell someone that I use a variety of drugs and the main one being heroin. Saying it all over a drug forum to people who are also druggies and will probably never know you is a lot easier than telling someone you truly have to interact with.

When they ask me what drugs do I do and I almost say heroin all that crosses my mind is no, that's a lie... I'm in denial all over again. Me doing heroin, what? No, that can't be. Sometimes I would think that in my head but the truth is I know that I am indeed a heroin user and I am indeed an addict. I just hate the fact that I will forever be judged because I decided to veer the other way in life and away from the norm. I decided to do heroin and get high. Honestly I don't care if people don't like my drug use but then again I still do care in some aspects. I care about how I am perceived by others and if they can see the good I do, the good in me... I wonder if that all goes away when I say the words, "I use heroin." What happens then? Am I just another junkie?

Uh, I just need to get over it I guess. There is nothing I can do but try to move on and make my life better. Right now I've been clean for almost two weeks and I know that's really not a long time but it doesn't matter. Any time clean from heroin is an accomplishment for me and I just wish that I could stay clean for once. I just feel as if I can't get clean or at least stay clean unless I fight the other battles going on in my life instead of running away from them. I need to find better ways to cope. I need to find what makes me happy and use whatever that may be to help me get out of this hole of depression, self doubt, emptiness and the list goes on. I need to find something other than heroin because heroin does make me feel "better" but only for so long but it also keeps me in the same hole that I so desperately want to get out of and it keeps digging me in further. I can't allow for this to go on any longer, I just can't but I say this all the time. Junkies always say that this will be the last time they will do heroin but it never is.... as you read my posts I'm just another heroin user with hopes and aspirations.. I'm just another heroin user who wants to get clean and maybe I'm just another heroin user who never will.

So it's almost two weeks since I've been clean from heroin. I need to figure out why all I can think about is when those two weeks will end... when will I use dope again? I'm tired of getting clean to only realize that I'm going to get high eventually. I want to figure out why I can't live life without using heavy drugs... I need to figure out a lot of shit but don't we all... In the end I know I'm a pretty good person and have a lot going for me but heroin holds me back. However, heroin makes me believe otherwise and that's why I still use sometimes until I can come to my senses once again.

This semester I got an A and three B's. That wasn't even bad and I thought I was going to do a lot worse. I didn't even apply myself this semester and all I did was get high... so I wonder what can happen if I stay clean and actually try for once? I want my future to be full of accomplishments and I want my past mistakes to remain in the past. I want heroin to stay there too but am I even ready? The sad thing is I can't even answer that question right now even though I want to.

Hi I'm 17 and my name is Bobby James
Everyday in school all my classmates call me names
And so this pusher introduced me to this thing
He said it makes you forget pain but makes you sing

I got pushed at home at school I was a wuss
Now my life is a domino that pushers push
Cause I tried it once but I tried it again
Ran away two weeks later I seen my friend
And I said

[Chorus - 2X]
Hey there mister give me some cash
I'm high as hell and I'm ready to blast
I'm just one hit away from being passed out
Young and assed out

Man this would be cute if this were just a dream

A lesson for you to learn except you'd learn through me
You know like in the movies when it ends with a scream
Well fuck face I got news this is real and I did things
Traveling from Virginia to Cali broke
Hitchhike and rides me in my calico
Shoplift for food when it was desire
I miss my family
Miss my friends
I'm so high and so tired

Brittany Desiree O'Neill


I am very emotional today doing ok to a degree with my addictions I am just trying to kick alcohol and ya know what I am ONE day sober right now and wanna drink so bad but I cannot I made a promise to 5 children to be the best mom while I am trying to hold on. I realize this Post Acute Withdrawl syndrome can make it tough on my friends and family and I am SOO TRUELY sorry and thank you from the bottom of heart to for being there. I love opiates but I dont wanna chase the damn high anymore.
The next thing I wanna talk about is that I am 27 years old and on shit 13 GODDAMN meds...they keep me alive but it is very depressing to see this and my kids not get the "normal" childhood to my mental illness...its a the worst feeling in the world you cannot see your children everyday. SO FUCKING JUDGE ME TO MY FACE AND WE'LL TALK ABOUT HOW YOU ARE A HYPOCRITICAL PIECE OF SHIT!!

WOw - so the world didn't end like the pessimists and nihilists supposed - let's see how it turns out for the idealists and realists...

TOday I have been learning more palmistry, and found out that as well as having my third eye open, and psychic abilities to foresee glimpses of peoples potential futures, I can add "empath" to my list of psychic abilities.

THis new book on palmistry is fucking intense - so glad that my leg has seized up, otherwise I would not have blasted through, making annotations for deeper study.

So the new year brings routine disciplinary action - siddhis to come - waking, eating, sleeping, exercise, excreting, candle gazing, and pranayama.

The new year also brings travel and wealth, which I have been forgoing for a few years now - time to grow up a bit more and take on some more responsibilities for myself, and drastically further my personal life in terms of social standing and my career - ayurveda, palmistry, and possibly tree surgery as the year progresses!

2013 is going to be fucking amazing. The end of many vices, and the end of bad habits and negative feelings, to usher in the cutting away from the ego to come on my 27th birthday.

I love you all

SMile fuckers

Peace, ONE love

edit

I see it now. This world we've had to deal with all our lives, the world our ancestors have brought down upon us, the tears we choke back every night we realize nothing is working.

This blog is for you.

This entry is for everyone who knows this world is too cruel. Too pushy. Too pressuring. Too unfair torighteously be for us.

What did we do to deserve it? Why do things have to be so unjust? Why does life suck for most of us these days? We think about this day in and day out, just hoping, praying that maybe the world will change ovrnight and suddenly we won't be in debt, our needs will be fulfilled, we won't be so sad all the time.

Yet, tomorrow comes and things are still the same.So we pray again. We hope harder. We give our lives everything we have.

But each day, we are horrendously disappointed. Our lives have spiralled to a point where even waking each day becomes hard to face. The sun could be shining bright as can be, but you just can't face the day. You're about to lose your home, your beautiful partner just left you completely alone and no one wants to be around you anymore.

So what now? There's no more hope. We find ourselves living not for ourselves, not for the betterment of humankind (since, heck, we know THAT'S not going to happen!), but hey, I know something that can ease the pain a little bit.

So we take a drink and be merry, like we've heard stories about. "Feeling like crap today? Drink and be merry!"

But now we feel sick. It's been months since the merriness of the bottle has worn off. So why am I still drinking, you ask yourself.

And then you realize the answer: you're now living to drink another day. You know you don't have enough money for your favorite bottle this ek, so you get what you can just so you can keep that lonliness and pain at a distance.

But now you wannt to kick the habit. So you do it... For three days.

And you cry when you give in because you know the happiness you have never felt will never greet you.

Because you have nothing ti be happy for.

It was all taken away a long time ago.

So all you can do now is drink and be merry.

---------------------------

For anyone that has to resist the urge to resort to drugs to supply the happiness they have never felt, I'm sorry if I've judged you harshly.

I find myself wanting an escape frequently these days. Something to get away from the pressures of life that I can't do anything to change right now.

Finances, love, respect, dignity... Our world is falling apart as we know it.

For those of you recovering, please try to find something to believe in. I know that without a strong faith, us folks who try so hard yet fail to succeed are one step closer to a life of dependence and misery.

Keep yourselves safe and remember that this world wants us to fail and hopefully, more of us can succeed.

Okay – I’ve outlined some of my experiences on the Silk Road (or SR as sometimes referred to) and although this is lengthy, there is a large amount of information for someone who is serious about using it for the first time. I don’t go into the technical how-to’s of setting up Tor, but I’m happy to answer any questions about that if you start the process and have difficulty. Just a couple of common sense words on it… Be Smart. Don’t try to put Tor (or Vidalia) on your work computer (duh!). You need to use a computer where you can control the proxy settings. And don’t underestimate the value of a thumbnail drive vs. your hard drive. There will be no trace of Tor while not in use, if you remove the thumb drive after each use.

I've put in a dozen or so orders by now - usually multiple orders at a time to use up all the bitcoins I’ve deposited in my account at once. That way they don’t linger around temping one of the numerous hackers (Tor is littered with them) who search the Silk Road for accounts with balances remaining. You will see there is a section where you can by money and bitcoins. Where do you think those bitcoins are coming from? Mostly from accounts that leave a balance available at any given time. So figure out what you are going to buy and deposit approximately that much money, plus the fees associated with each step along the way. The bitcoins process can take some time to complete (especially at first) and there fees associated with each transaction along the way until the final step where you trade USD for E-Currency, (usually one party will facilitate taking your money and depositing it somewhere larger that auctions E-Currency or the like (Liberty Reserve is one of these E-Currency Companies) And example work flow would go something like this <you deposit cash(each company accepts different forms for payment ie, Bank Transfer, Western Union, Credit Card (rarely) PayPal) into a company like electrumx.com. electrumx.com then deposits those funds to LibertyReserve.com, who turns it into E-Currancy. Once you have that, you can trade it like the stock market for Bitcoins from any bitcoin company, like say Mt Gox. From there you are given an extremely long code from your Silk Road account that will allow you too enter that into any bitcoin provider and they will deposit your bitcoin balance (after each of the aforementioned companies takes a fee). Right now the bitcoin market ended at 13.37487bc to $1. This is the highest I have consistently seen it. It's been as low as $3, and stayed there for quite sometime too. So the market does fluctuate quite a bit.

Here is a screenshot of the LibertyReserve site and an example of some of the venders they use to deposit funds.


As I just mentioned, 99.9% (in not 100% these days) of SR transactions are done with bitcoins. Supposedly they are completely anonymous, protecting your identity from all purchases.

*NOTE: There is some debate over how autonomous bitcoins really are. But for our purposes, they actually do offer the most superior protection available. But we’ll delve into this later towards the end.*

I would say that the vast majority of my transactions have run smoothly and been completely successful. But the first few undoubtedly made me a little nervous. Eventually they all worked out, but with each order something out of the ordinary happened. Odd packages started to arrive, unsolicited - including a string of random drugs, definitely not purchased, arrived in the mail – but more on that later. The first time was the oddest - and definitely the creepiest. Admittedly, I made a couple n00b mistakes, which might have triggered some of these events. This is why I’m writing all of this – so anyone who wants to journey down the Silk Road, can have access to a manual of sorts - an instruction guide, riddled with some humorous personal antidotes.

My first purchase, I ordered a vile of acid. It was a 250 drop vile at 50mg a drop. The seller was from the Netherlands and requested a no bitcoin transaction, PayPal preferred – an EXTREMELY odd request on the SR and one I have not seen repeated since. However at the time I didn’t realize just how unusual this was. I didn’t do a lot of research before my first purchase, I got too excited and jumped right in with a large purchase immediately after joining (yeah, yeah impatient, I know). But I could tell that the bitcoin process was initially going to take a few days to set up, so I was just stoked to see something I could pull the trigger on immediately. And a huge vile of acid, which was exactly what I was looking for! No more buying 10 strips on lots or going through one of the two people I know who can sometimes provide a sheet. This was going to last me for a while! (It was gone in like two months – but that’s inconsequential to the story. Just shows that I like my acid. Quite a bit.) Especially since I already had a full sheet as well as 50 drops in a vile a friend scored me in NY. I prefer liquid acid, because my ideal route of administration is IV, so it bypasses the step required to soak the LSD out of the strip. Makes it much easier… but anyway… back to the Silk Road.

Once you pay for an item with bitcoins, your purchase goes into and you don’t have to fully release the funds until your order is received. Sellers do have the option to accept escrow payments or not, but if you release early the fault lies on you and there is no further protection from SR. But buying any product from the Silk Road is much like eBay, as you will see in the included photographs. All sellers are given ratings from the buyer after the transaction, and you can pick who you want to do business with based on those ratings – number of stars, description of personal communication, number of positive ratings, how long they have been active on SR and how their product is reviewed. Then, if you are smart, you pick sellers with a large number of high (perfect) ratings. You want to pick a seller that has a 100 ratings, because there are many ways to fool the system and these are drug dealers you are working with after all. Some people put their product up, have their buddies purchase a few times, acquire some positive reviews, convince the next potential buyers to release escrow early, then disappear after they have received the cash. This has happened to me once on the SR when I wanted to sample a 10 strip. But this business happens all the time on every drug buying forums, be it topix, oxyforum or the Silk Road. (Not to mention the scammers you run across when buying drugs in real life, especially when copping on the streets!) There are always going to be scammers. So 1 time out of 20 or so purchases I still consider pretty good odds!

Anyway – the most reputable sellers have no problem selling in escrow, but there are some completely legit sellers who request early release. In the end, the choice is yours. Do you want to purchase from someone requesting earlier release or not. There’s definitely risk involved, but I’ve done it for sellers with extremely high ratings by a large number of buyers and my transaction be completely smooth. Once you release funds and leave your review (which is required as funds are released – a big flaw in the SR still if you as my humble opinion), there is now no way to go back and change your remarks or communicate with other buyers how you were ripped off. Luckily, there is one more line of defense to protect yourself and all buyers, although it can be overlooked much of the time. There is a message board, a forum, where you can report fraudulent sellers and give a description of the transaction, communication and product – both good or bad. Most (maybe even all) reputable sellers have their own forum page. There are also threads listing all types of shady sellers as well.. This is your only option for recourse if you are scammed after waving escrow. But hopefully the product was FIRE and you want to fluff the seller with high praise.


An example of a listing - this one for MDMA. All items are pitched similar to eBay, with description, photo, price in BC and the Sellers ID and Rating. In this example you can see the seller SKYY has a 100 rating, very viable. You can check where the item is shipping from and where the seller is willing to ship too. I go into this a little further in the story, but the Netherlands tends to produce some of the the highest quality products on SR. So despite the delay in shipping as opposed to the a shipment from the States, it very will be worth the weight. In less of course you are buying dope and needed it ASAP lest you get get sick, you'll want to choice someone local who is willing to expedite shipping

Although drugs are by far the largest category on the Silk Road, there are many other illicit items for purchase as well. Here is an example of a general listing for fake ID's. You will be able to cross compare all sellers and their rating as well as scope out pricing and shipping information

In the next entry I'll go into detail about that first purchase of LSD and 2nd order placed soon after - both leading to a bizarre string of events. Questions or comments? Just ask! I'm happy to share

I'm tired of everyone thinking that all drug users are good for nothing type people. I was volunteering at a soup kitchen type thing with my coworkers and they kept talking about how everyone there was on drugs and that's why they were homeless. First off ... terribly insulting to homeless people as that is NOT why all people are homeless! There are many other reasons! Yes, being a drug addict can be one reason but it's not the only reason.

Then they get on the topic of drugs, and how drugs are so terrible, they ruin your lives. I wish I could say something, but I can't - it's my job at risk!! But the way they talk about drug users! I just wish I could prove them wrong! But you only hear about the "bad" drug users. The ones that do bad things, or the addicts, and the ones that die. Not the successful ones. Why? Because successful drug users can't talk about their drug use all the time.

I'm just so tired of it. I don't feel like I personally am being judged, because they don't know. But I just ... I hate how they judge drug users in general. It just makes me so angry! It IS possible to be a successful drug user!

Keep in mind that this was being discussed while some people were serving coffee ... you know ... with caffeine (drugs!) in it.

Do you still talk to your FIRST love?
Yes.

What was your FIRST alcoholic drink?
Cranberry vodka

What was your FIRST job?
Cashier.

What was your FIRST car?
Nissan sentra.

Who was the FIRST person to text you today?
Mama.

Who is the FIRST person you thought of this morning?
My boyfriend.

Where did you go on your FIRST ride on an airplane?
Never.

Who was your FIRST best friend & do you still talk?
Gianna & yes

Where was your FIRST sleep over?
Gianna!

Who was the FIRST person you talked to today?
My kitty.

Whose wedding were you in the FIRST time?
Uncles.

What was the FIRST thing you did this morning?
Checked the time.

What was the FIRST concert you ever went to?
Brittany Spears lol.

FIRST broken bone?
Nada.

FIRST piercing?
Ears.

FIRST foreign country you've gone to?
N/a

FIRST movie you remember seeing?
Harriet the Spy

When was your FIRST detention?
Neer had it lol.

Who was your FIRST roommate?
My cousin.

Did you marry the FIRST person to ask for your hand in marriage/ you asked to marry?
Never been asked.

What was the FIRST sport you were involved in?
Soccer.

What were the FIRST lessons you ever took?
Gymnastics.

A - Age: 21
B - Bed size: queen
C - Chinese Food Dish: sweet and sour chicken
D - Dentist name: don't have one.
E - Early Bird or Night Owl? night owl.
F - Favorite color: orange.
G - Gold or Silver: gold.
H - Height: 5'3"
I - Ink as in tatto's you have: none yet.
J - Job title: slave.
K - Kitchen Meal or Restaurant? Kitchen.
L - Living arrangements? With my cousin and 3 cats
M - Month of birth: may.
N - Nicknames: honey.
O - On time or late: usually early.
P - Pet Peeve: pronouncing words incorrectly.
Q - Quote from a movie: hmm
R - Right or left handed: ambidextrous!
S - Siblings: yes
T - Time you wake up: it depends on the day.
U - Urgent thing on your to do list: find a new job.
V - Vegetable you dislike: hmm..can't think of any off the top of my head.
W - Wishing for: marriage
X - X-rays you've had: skull, spine, ankle, neck
Y - Yummy food you make: brownies!
Z - Zoo Favorite: tigers

Woke up around 9am from a bad dream. I dreamt my Mother had gone to Brazil on vacation and let one of my teachers from highschool (Who's an alcoholic/addict) and her boyfriend stay at the house and watch over me. In the dream I saw someone I went to rehab with who was a heroin addict and he had the hookup in the dream and we, well, mostly he, started selling large amounts of heroin out of the house and around town. We were under surveillance and I was having increasing issues with the teacher and her boyfriend who were watching over me and trying to control me. We all drank together and me and the guy from rehab where shooting black tar. Then my lil sister was with her ex-boyfriend again and somehow he his relatives were staying with us or were hanging around. He became an alcoholic and was cheating on my sister so I beat his ass (I've never been in a real fight IRL). Last thing I remember was drinking with my lil sisters ex and he overdosed and passed out and I could feel how he felt, unconscious for a few seconds then I woke up. Also in the dream we were partying in this hotel/massion/party house and I was getting some attention from some girls but I fucked things up by snorting meth with some guy. I remember it wasn't chopped up and the crystals hurt my nose terribly and were actually falling out and the girls noticed I was acting suspicious so they ditched me.

So I woke up around 9am and I felt okay for a minute or two as I was waking up and smiled and told myself, "this is going to be a good day". Then I took 0.1mg clonidine, 900mg gabapentin and grabbed my 1mg piece of suboxone strip and grabbed an oral insulation syringe (what they give you after your wisdom teeth come out) and mixed the 1mg sub up in about 1.5-2.0ml of water in a shot glass and drew it up in the insulation syringe and laid flat on my back in the bathroom and slowly squirted the solution in my nose and it BURNED LIKE HELL. I laid there for a couple minutes then got up and sniffed and got the sub up in my nasal cavity and then I added another 1.5ml to the shot glass to get the residue out and laid down on my back on the bathroom floor again and slowly squirted it in and it burned like hell again. About 15 minutes later I started to feel relief, my urge to poop subsided (it was very loose stools). I started to feel a bit of warmth in my chest.

I then went into my room and logged onto the computer and started browsing the web, listening to Lil B's "I'm Gay" album. Then my Mother asked me if I'd like to join her on a walk with our dog. I took 50mg hydroxyzine PAM and smoked a cigarette before we left and we walked for about 30-45 minutes. As I walked with my Mother and we talked and had good conversation, I felt the sub coming on stronger and I started to feel very energetic. I find that taking the sub intra-nasal creates a much more pronounced speedy and energetic effect although I felt quite calm and at peace.

When we got home I made a smoothie using frozen raspberry's, coconut oil, peanut-butter and non-fat pro-biotic yogurt. I washed some dishes and made some tea before I drank the delicious smoothie. I took 2 psyllium husk fiber capsules with 8-10oz of water. I then started to drink the tea and smoked another cigarette. I came back inside and started cleaning. I swept and organized. I started a load of laundry. After I was done cleaning I smoked another cigarette and put the laundry in the dryer. Then I got back on the computer to continue this blog entry. Now I'm going to take the laundry out of the dryer and take a shower. It is a beautiful sunny day, although this morning it was raining and overcast. It is rare to have such a nice day this time of year and I feel good.

At the moment I am sitting in the lobby of the methadone clinic, having picked up my take-home bottles. I think many here probably find me stand offish simply because I ignore almost all clients. I don't give a shit how many Xanax or Ellavil you want to sell, or how many watered down bottles you really hope I buy, just leave me the fuck alone, than you ever so kindly.

I remember, once in Amsterdam I met a Dutch junkie who told me that junkies are smarter on average, than straight people. I almost pissed on myself as he went on and on and on, before retiring to his cardboard box next to one of the city's many canals. Not that living in the rough has any correlation to intelligence mind you, just that more than 99.9 percent of the junkies I have met have been bone ass stupid. For every Burroughs or de Quincy there are 25,000 bleeding mongoloids- if only in terms of their IQs and social graces.

Case in point...One show that I really enjoy is "Banged up Abroad" on the National Geographic Channel, known as "Locked up Abroad" in the States. One episode I watched the other day involved a Scotts junkie who abandoned his son when the little boy was 6. Fast forward to age 22 and the boy gets a call out of the blue from dear old dopefiend dad inviting him for an all expences paid jaunt down the infamous Silk Road. Being the creatures we are the son jumped at the chance to quit his job and leave his live in love high and dry.

Arriving in Islamabad he is greeted by daddy whom he recognises because he is the only white man in Arrivals. Dad takes him straight to a little shoppe where he is shocked to find papa hitting a water pipe with some great hash. His father calms him by reminding him that different cultures have different customs but then drops an atom bomb on him, "Uh yah laddie, I dint' have time to tell ye' before but we will be carrying 20 kilos of this hash into China, smuggle it across the width of the country to Shanghai, and then smuggle ir into Tokyo." What the fuck?

Nice guy that father is. Abandon your boy when he is just starting school and needing his father the most, then manipulate him at age 22 into muleing 20 keys of hash in a death penalty nation! He tells his son that he has made the crossing many times before and there is never any Customs or Immigration Inspections. What's more he says, should anything ever go wrong he will take full responsibility and the boy will be on his merry way. Seeking approval the boy agrees.

Loading the hash into false bottoms of 2 carry on bags they run out of the professionaly manufactured smuggler bags and amazingly, decide to tear out the bottom of an over the counter bag, plant the hash and sew it back up. As long as noone ever inspects that 3rd bag too closely there should be no problems. Lo and behold, at the crossing the Chinese are going over bags with a finetooth comb. Shitting bricks, they almost keel over when the Chinese guards gruffly order them out of the line and proceed immediately to the front, something that often happens with whites or blacks in Southeast Asia (indeed, Thailand has special lines for foreigners only).

The Chinese border police give the 2 men a going over and suddenly pass them on through. Ecstatic having crossed what they believed was their most formidable obstacle they buy a cabin on a cross country train that will take 6 days to reach Shanghai. Unbelievably, dear old dad rolls joints of hash and not only smokes it on the train, but does so outside their cabin. Standing opposite the window he is smoking a fat joint of hash when a conductor comes through the door into his car!

Looking dumbfounded the father merely looks sheepishly as the conductor puts a finger to his nose and moves the index finger on his other hand as if to say "No no." The Scottsman stamps out the joint and smiles before paranoia gets the best of him and he retires to the cabin. Now, the train is hauling ass through the Gobi Desert near Mongolia. They could have dumped the load and if it was crucial they could conceivably return for it by disembarking at the next station. Do these braniacs do this? Nah, they feed off eachother's paranoia until that same conductor knocks on their cabin door a couple of hours later.

Looking sternly at the father the conductor pantomimes that he wants both the father's ticket AND the hash. Dad believes that the conductor is merely tryting to hustle a bribe, possibly looking to get the hash for his own enjoyment and hands him a few grammes in a baggie he was using as a headstash. The conductor angrily leaves with both the ticket and the stash and now father and son are almost over the edge in a frantic struggle with paranoia.

As the train begins slowing down at a station they decide to take their chances with the 3 bags and make a run for it. At the end of the station platform is a turnstile and a clerk checking that each departing passenger has paid the correct fare. The son gets through without a problem but as the father argues with the clerk over not having his ticket a lot of shouting erupts from the other end of the platform and who would it be but the conductor! Off they go to a Chinese police station.

I will get to the rest in a following entry...

A continuation...

At the police station father and son were of course seperated as are all suspects in any interrogation. I hesistate to use the phrase "to his credit" because it is merely what any human should do, dear old dad told his interrogators that the boy knew nothing about the hashish and that it was all his doing. After a harrowing night incommunicado the son was brusquely released, put on a plane and deported to Hong Kong.

Hong Kong is under Chinese sovereignity but is under fully autonomous status. Suprisingly this autonomy extends even to immigration apparently since he was sent there BY China after his perphreal involvement in a hashish smuggling scheme,

When the Chinese police informed him of his release they nearly gave him a heart attack when they handed him the 2 smuggling bags INTACT with their secreted hashish! Now, you have just been arrested in a death penalty nation. You can imagine that your father is at that very moment being subjected to heinous forms of torture and unimaginable stress. You are handed a death penalty amount of hashish and informed you will be going through yet another border crossing, albeit as an air arrival. Moreover, your destination will have been informed that you are a deportee for a drugs offence. What would a sane person do? Me? I would go to the loo in the airport and flush every fucken crumb down the damn crapper!

What does our intrepid protagonist choose to do? "I decided that I would continue on with our plan. I would take the drugs onto Tokyo to prove to my dad that I had what it takes and to earn money to finance his defence." Riiiiight. Meanwhile, daddy-o is back in his rat infested cell in China, sleeping on a 1cm thich bamboo mat on a dank concrete floor, sleeping toe to toe with the dregs if Chinese society. Meal time is a bowl of bug infested white rice 3X a day with a bowl of hot water and some disgusting boiled greens floating on the surface. Hey, life's a bitch. The worst of it though is that his kind hearted warders never bother to inform him that junior has been released and deported. He is wracking his brain with guilt and regret. First he abandoned the boy when he was 6, now at 22 his son is facing a bullet to the back of the head- the preferred method of execution for drugs offences in China.

Meanwhile, laddie miraculously cleared Customs and Immigration in Hong Kong! Counter-intuitively, he didn't even face questioning, much less an inspection. Knowing that a person has just been deported for a drugs offence leads one to believe that the deportee has been properly vetted in all ways. Who would imagine that a drugs deportee is arriving with 14 kilos of secreted hashish? What are the chances of the Chinese police having handed him 2 carry on bags with a load of hashish in them?

Next is a flight bound for Tokyo. Amazingly, the Japanese must not have been aware of his recent travel history since they didn't bar his entry. Japan has a fairly strong hash market and like most nations in Eastern Asia the product costs an arm and a leg even on the wholesale end of the market. To give you an idea...A person can go to Katmandu in Nepal...or to Sagada in the Philippines, and pay $250.00 for a kilo of black creamy hash, better than anything I have ever seen in Lebanon or Pakistan. That same kilo is worth $50,000 as soon as you clear Japanese Customs. If you unload it yourself, you can make up to $100,000 within a month, with little worries of arrest or robbery.

Junior went directly to an expat bar his father had told him about and quickly got rid of his load. Back in China his father was shocked when staffer from the British Consulate informed him that his son- whom he had believed was sitting in an identical cell in another part of the facility- had wired him $10,000 to retain an attorney. Staring at the Consulate flunky in shock he asked WHERE had it been wired FROM. Having been told it came from Tokyo the father began laughing like a maniac, "That's my laddie!"

Personally? I think both are carbon copies of one another. Both are blubbering idiots. In any event, after a decade Daddy flew back to the UK and today father and son are happy as larks.

Not all the episodes are factual. There was another one, involving a Chassidic (Hassidic) Jew who served time in Brasil for coke. A native of London he- like me- entered into an arranged marriage at age 17. Like me, he was divorced in his early 20s. One day, a mate of his, another Chasid, asked him if he would like to take an all expences paid holiday in Brasil. Thinking that his friend was simply trying to cheer him up after his marriage imploded, the man said sure, he would love to see the country...off to Brasil.

To be continued...