You are using an out of date browser. It may not display this or other websites correctly.
You should upgrade or use an alternative browser.
You should upgrade or use an alternative browser.
Blogs
Filters
Show only:
Loading…
i just joined this blog, tve heard lots about these an interested in joining. take lots of meds an need cheaper ways to get my medicine. if anyone can help let me know
Any1 know of any raves goin down on the east coat within the next couple of months?
So i'm a month at home, after quitting college. Taking serouel 50 mg but it's not doing much. I have three job interviews in the next two days, so getting a job will mean income and something to do. I had five goals, and number 1 is to get help for my bi polar disorder, and to find out if i do, as my phychiatrist believs, have PTSD. I'm currently doing good there. Number two was to find a job, and so far it looks that by friday i'll have a full time job, either at verizon or at the company my mom works at.
I haven't talked to anybody except my family. I've been damn lonely and spend most of my time watching X Files, eating and trolling Yahoo answers. I also have been staying clean, almost 1 month. I'll keep moving on and i'm hopefull something good will happen soon to uplift my spirits.
I haven't talked to anybody except my family. I've been damn lonely and spend most of my time watching X Files, eating and trolling Yahoo answers. I also have been staying clean, almost 1 month. I'll keep moving on and i'm hopefull something good will happen soon to uplift my spirits.
a continuation...
The 50 year old American was a union elevator repairman, a very well paid blue collar profession. An Italian American, he lived in his childhood home in the same town he was born in, a stone's throw from the homes of both his parents and his sister. Though he wasn't forthcoming about it, he had had a failed marriage decades earlier and had a grown son older than the Filipina he now set his sights upon. While most cyber Lotharios take as long as a year or more before dropping $2,500 on a trip to the other side of the world to meet what could be a terrible nightmare, our intrepid elevator mechanic arrived in Manila a little more than two months after first messaging the young Filipina.
Meanwhile...though stunningly beautiful, the 25 year old Filipina had never even had a boyfriend. Growing up in a nipa, the bamboo framed palm leaf thatched hut that serves as the average home for rural folk here, she could barely imagine the ways in which her life was about to drastically change. Never having been more than 50km from her seaside village she was accompanied by both parents as she rode an inter-island ferry two days north to the nation's capital Manila, on the island of Luzon.
Too nervous to appreciate the sights and sounds offered by Manila the young Filipina and her parents met the middle aged American, who, at 50, was older than both of the girls' parents. After two days of talking the American proposed marriage. Giddily, innocently, neigh, ignorantly the Filipina accepted at once as her parents smiled, dreaming of the materiel improvements about to enter their lives. Unfortunatly for the newly engaged couple, it was time for the man to return to America, but he did get the ball rolling with an application for a K3 Visa, a Fiance Visa that would allow the Filipina to travel to the US where, according to their plans, they would marry in Maryland.
Away the American flew as his young Filipina fiancee began to sail for Mindanao accompanied by her beaming parents. More than a year later the now 26 year old Filipina stepped off of her flight at Dulles Airport in Washington DC and into the arms of her 51 year old husband to be. Settling into a life she had never even dared to imagine the young lady was ecstatic. From a life of hand washing her clothes in a creek and eating two meals of boiled white rice and bitter melon twice a day...and a piece of dried fish when fortunate...she suddenly found herself immersed into a life of Walmart and Target...washing machines and driers. The novelty quickly wore off though, after a month when she naively asked her fiance about assisting her family as he had pomised in Manila the year before.
After a two day running argument in which his parents and sister berated her for being materielistic and full of avarice, her fiance grudgingly agreed to pay the family's utility bills, roughly $30 every four weeks. A week later, desperate to cash in on his long term "investment," he cajoled the young lady into losing her virginity by vowing to include college tuition for all four of her sisters, roughly $220 per semester for one sister at a time and any emergency medical expences that might arise within her immediate family. Deal closed he now stopped his previously vague talk of marriage. By 2008 the now 27 year old live in girlfriend had begun nagging her boyfriend about a promise he had made back in Manila. Taken by the moment he had grandly vowed to build the family a house to replace their grass hut. After umpteenth knock down drag em' out fights that had the Filipina packing her still meagre possesions, the boyfriend made an oh so grand gesture and told the Filipina that he would allow her to get a job with which SHE could fund her parents' new home.
After quickly discovering that a K3 Visa barred the obtainment of a Work Permit, he took the plunge and finaly honoured his commitment by marrying her at a rural Maryland courthouse. Gaining her Work Permit the Filipina quickly found a position as a receptionist at a health clinic for the indigent. Ironicaly, she would later tell her family that the poorest of her patients were much better off than any middle class Filipino. In any event, her take home salary of $220.00 after taxes went to fund the family's dream home. In the end they built the most palatial home in the village, costing nearly P1 Million ($22,000).
The house sits on the same quarter hectare, on the shore of the bay but where a one roomed grass hut had stood, a three floored stucco and brick building sat among the towering palm trees. Years earlier the girl's father had become the Barangay Chairman, the village chief, the new home cemented his position as the village's leading citizen. The Filipina had every right to be proud of having fufilled her duty as the eldest daughter of the family. Grateful to her American husband for having brought her to the US and then giving her permission to work and send virtually all her earnings home to her family, the Filipina eventually setttled into a routine, content that she was now finally able to help provide for her family.. This gratitude led to the happiest period in their marriage. However, as is often said, all things come to an end.
The huge new house in Barangay Punta sat almost entirely empty and left the family unable to even obtain the most basic of furnishings, nor even able to pay their increased monthly bills. The dutiful daughter continued wiring home virtually 100% of her meagre earnings
The 50 year old American was a union elevator repairman, a very well paid blue collar profession. An Italian American, he lived in his childhood home in the same town he was born in, a stone's throw from the homes of both his parents and his sister. Though he wasn't forthcoming about it, he had had a failed marriage decades earlier and had a grown son older than the Filipina he now set his sights upon. While most cyber Lotharios take as long as a year or more before dropping $2,500 on a trip to the other side of the world to meet what could be a terrible nightmare, our intrepid elevator mechanic arrived in Manila a little more than two months after first messaging the young Filipina.
Meanwhile...though stunningly beautiful, the 25 year old Filipina had never even had a boyfriend. Growing up in a nipa, the bamboo framed palm leaf thatched hut that serves as the average home for rural folk here, she could barely imagine the ways in which her life was about to drastically change. Never having been more than 50km from her seaside village she was accompanied by both parents as she rode an inter-island ferry two days north to the nation's capital Manila, on the island of Luzon.
Too nervous to appreciate the sights and sounds offered by Manila the young Filipina and her parents met the middle aged American, who, at 50, was older than both of the girls' parents. After two days of talking the American proposed marriage. Giddily, innocently, neigh, ignorantly the Filipina accepted at once as her parents smiled, dreaming of the materiel improvements about to enter their lives. Unfortunatly for the newly engaged couple, it was time for the man to return to America, but he did get the ball rolling with an application for a K3 Visa, a Fiance Visa that would allow the Filipina to travel to the US where, according to their plans, they would marry in Maryland.
Away the American flew as his young Filipina fiancee began to sail for Mindanao accompanied by her beaming parents. More than a year later the now 26 year old Filipina stepped off of her flight at Dulles Airport in Washington DC and into the arms of her 51 year old husband to be. Settling into a life she had never even dared to imagine the young lady was ecstatic. From a life of hand washing her clothes in a creek and eating two meals of boiled white rice and bitter melon twice a day...and a piece of dried fish when fortunate...she suddenly found herself immersed into a life of Walmart and Target...washing machines and driers. The novelty quickly wore off though, after a month when she naively asked her fiance about assisting her family as he had pomised in Manila the year before.
After a two day running argument in which his parents and sister berated her for being materielistic and full of avarice, her fiance grudgingly agreed to pay the family's utility bills, roughly $30 every four weeks. A week later, desperate to cash in on his long term "investment," he cajoled the young lady into losing her virginity by vowing to include college tuition for all four of her sisters, roughly $220 per semester for one sister at a time and any emergency medical expences that might arise within her immediate family. Deal closed he now stopped his previously vague talk of marriage. By 2008 the now 27 year old live in girlfriend had begun nagging her boyfriend about a promise he had made back in Manila. Taken by the moment he had grandly vowed to build the family a house to replace their grass hut. After umpteenth knock down drag em' out fights that had the Filipina packing her still meagre possesions, the boyfriend made an oh so grand gesture and told the Filipina that he would allow her to get a job with which SHE could fund her parents' new home.
After quickly discovering that a K3 Visa barred the obtainment of a Work Permit, he took the plunge and finaly honoured his commitment by marrying her at a rural Maryland courthouse. Gaining her Work Permit the Filipina quickly found a position as a receptionist at a health clinic for the indigent. Ironicaly, she would later tell her family that the poorest of her patients were much better off than any middle class Filipino. In any event, her take home salary of $220.00 after taxes went to fund the family's dream home. In the end they built the most palatial home in the village, costing nearly P1 Million ($22,000).
The house sits on the same quarter hectare, on the shore of the bay but where a one roomed grass hut had stood, a three floored stucco and brick building sat among the towering palm trees. Years earlier the girl's father had become the Barangay Chairman, the village chief, the new home cemented his position as the village's leading citizen. The Filipina had every right to be proud of having fufilled her duty as the eldest daughter of the family. Grateful to her American husband for having brought her to the US and then giving her permission to work and send virtually all her earnings home to her family, the Filipina eventually setttled into a routine, content that she was now finally able to help provide for her family.. This gratitude led to the happiest period in their marriage. However, as is often said, all things come to an end.
The huge new house in Barangay Punta sat almost entirely empty and left the family unable to even obtain the most basic of furnishings, nor even able to pay their increased monthly bills. The dutiful daughter continued wiring home virtually 100% of her meagre earnings
a continuation...
After finally picking up Manesses, Rizza's brother, from his late arriving ferry in Nasipit we drove the fifteen minutes it took to reach a quiet village, Punta. Southeast Asian municipalities are structured very differently than their Western counterparts. In this part of the world the basic unit of governance is the village. In Cambodia they call it the "commune," while in Malaysia it is the "kampong," and here, in the Philippines, it is the "barangay." A number of villages compose a single municipality even if there are great distances between villages.
Barangay Punta, or Punta Village, is nestled along a small palmtree lined bay filled with the turquoise and azure waters one finds all over postcards and travel brochures. Each village is seperately governed by a Barangay Chairman, or Barangay Captain and a Council all of whom are elected in extremely violent campaigns. The propetier of the cellphone store had been the Barangay Chairman but had reached the 9 year limit and had to step down in the September 2010 Election. Usually, such politicians will place a spouse or child in that position as a seat warmer since incumbency is virtually guaranteed at the village level due to the tribal nature of ethnicities here.
Unfortunately for the man, he set his sights upon a Municipal Councilor seat and instead of placing his wife into the Barangay Chairmanship, he simply nodded his assent as she staked herself in a campaign for Barangay Councilor, not wanting to deal with the inherent violence and organised criminality one must deal with as Barangay Chairperson. Well as luck would have it both failed in their campaigns though one daughter- one of the two I had seen walking into the shoppe- did emerge victoriously in that campaign, winning the SK Election.
SK, or Sangguniang Kabataan, translates loosely as "Youth Council." Each village has a parallel government composed of young people ages 15 to 21. The SK Chairperson, in this case the daughter I mentioned, gets an ex oficio seat on the Barangay Council. Guessing most reading this have no knowledge of Latin and far less knowledge about poli sci, the term "ex oficio" basically means that they have Observer Status; they can engage in debate but never vote, present to hold forth on the views of the SK constituency, the village youth.
So the daughter, named Apple, busies herself while her parents strategise to regain control of the village in the 2013 Barangay Elections. Aside from the little cellphone shoppe the family has no means of support. The eldest daughter, now 30, also a beauty queen, had gone into the nefarious abyss of cyber dating in 2006, and had quickly met a 49 year old elevator mechanic from Maryland in the US. Though 25 at the time, she quickly agreed to marry the nearly 50 year old American without ever having met him.
I really only learned about cyber dating and its trailer park cousin, Mail Order Brides, after moving here in 2007. It is a bit strange because of course Jews engage in Arranged Marriages which is something similar...except that in that case parents pick who one marries and inevitably it will be one raised exactly the same as you with all the same values and expectations...if not a first cousin or uncle (yes uncles and nieces DO marry in our culture).
In cyber dating though, it seems to me to be a real emotional...AND financial minefield. The really mystifying thing for me, especially vis a vis Western men and Filipinas in the whole shroud of ignorance. I mean, if you are specifically seeking a lover from a foreign culture, how could you not seriously research? In looking at ex pat websites I regularly see Western men make such thought provoking comments as, "Filipinas happily marry 75 year old Western men because Philippine Culture teaches them to respect their elders." Uh...it also teaches them to respect water buffalo but for the life of me I cannot recall ever hearing of any Filipinas riding down the aisle on one..."Filipinas are not at all into Womens Lib and only want to serve their husbands and home." Riiiiight, that is why they struggle to earn their Bachelors before age 20...just to bring you a cold one and serve it to you on her knees." I could easily go on and on about stupid stereotypical misconceptions about Filipinas but alas, my point is that if one aims to go that route, wouldnt it make sense to actually learn about Philippine Culture?
One thing anyone interested in Filipinas absolutely needs to learn is that Filipinos pool their resources and are absolutely dedicated to the welfare of their extended families. Unless you marry a Filipina from a very wealthy family you can count on supporting her siblings, parents, and grandparents. In my own case, Rizza comes from a wealthy family so that I have never had to deal with that but virtually any girl online will be one step removed from what Westerners would see as mind bending poverty.
So it was with this couple, the nearly 50 year old American from Maryland and the 25 year old beauty queen in Nasipit on Mindanao.
to be continued...
After finally picking up Manesses, Rizza's brother, from his late arriving ferry in Nasipit we drove the fifteen minutes it took to reach a quiet village, Punta. Southeast Asian municipalities are structured very differently than their Western counterparts. In this part of the world the basic unit of governance is the village. In Cambodia they call it the "commune," while in Malaysia it is the "kampong," and here, in the Philippines, it is the "barangay." A number of villages compose a single municipality even if there are great distances between villages.
Barangay Punta, or Punta Village, is nestled along a small palmtree lined bay filled with the turquoise and azure waters one finds all over postcards and travel brochures. Each village is seperately governed by a Barangay Chairman, or Barangay Captain and a Council all of whom are elected in extremely violent campaigns. The propetier of the cellphone store had been the Barangay Chairman but had reached the 9 year limit and had to step down in the September 2010 Election. Usually, such politicians will place a spouse or child in that position as a seat warmer since incumbency is virtually guaranteed at the village level due to the tribal nature of ethnicities here.
Unfortunately for the man, he set his sights upon a Municipal Councilor seat and instead of placing his wife into the Barangay Chairmanship, he simply nodded his assent as she staked herself in a campaign for Barangay Councilor, not wanting to deal with the inherent violence and organised criminality one must deal with as Barangay Chairperson. Well as luck would have it both failed in their campaigns though one daughter- one of the two I had seen walking into the shoppe- did emerge victoriously in that campaign, winning the SK Election.
SK, or Sangguniang Kabataan, translates loosely as "Youth Council." Each village has a parallel government composed of young people ages 15 to 21. The SK Chairperson, in this case the daughter I mentioned, gets an ex oficio seat on the Barangay Council. Guessing most reading this have no knowledge of Latin and far less knowledge about poli sci, the term "ex oficio" basically means that they have Observer Status; they can engage in debate but never vote, present to hold forth on the views of the SK constituency, the village youth.
So the daughter, named Apple, busies herself while her parents strategise to regain control of the village in the 2013 Barangay Elections. Aside from the little cellphone shoppe the family has no means of support. The eldest daughter, now 30, also a beauty queen, had gone into the nefarious abyss of cyber dating in 2006, and had quickly met a 49 year old elevator mechanic from Maryland in the US. Though 25 at the time, she quickly agreed to marry the nearly 50 year old American without ever having met him.
I really only learned about cyber dating and its trailer park cousin, Mail Order Brides, after moving here in 2007. It is a bit strange because of course Jews engage in Arranged Marriages which is something similar...except that in that case parents pick who one marries and inevitably it will be one raised exactly the same as you with all the same values and expectations...if not a first cousin or uncle (yes uncles and nieces DO marry in our culture).
In cyber dating though, it seems to me to be a real emotional...AND financial minefield. The really mystifying thing for me, especially vis a vis Western men and Filipinas in the whole shroud of ignorance. I mean, if you are specifically seeking a lover from a foreign culture, how could you not seriously research? In looking at ex pat websites I regularly see Western men make such thought provoking comments as, "Filipinas happily marry 75 year old Western men because Philippine Culture teaches them to respect their elders." Uh...it also teaches them to respect water buffalo but for the life of me I cannot recall ever hearing of any Filipinas riding down the aisle on one..."Filipinas are not at all into Womens Lib and only want to serve their husbands and home." Riiiiight, that is why they struggle to earn their Bachelors before age 20...just to bring you a cold one and serve it to you on her knees." I could easily go on and on about stupid stereotypical misconceptions about Filipinas but alas, my point is that if one aims to go that route, wouldnt it make sense to actually learn about Philippine Culture?
One thing anyone interested in Filipinas absolutely needs to learn is that Filipinos pool their resources and are absolutely dedicated to the welfare of their extended families. Unless you marry a Filipina from a very wealthy family you can count on supporting her siblings, parents, and grandparents. In my own case, Rizza comes from a wealthy family so that I have never had to deal with that but virtually any girl online will be one step removed from what Westerners would see as mind bending poverty.
So it was with this couple, the nearly 50 year old American from Maryland and the 25 year old beauty queen in Nasipit on Mindanao.
to be continued...
Today, i am in the usual predicoment of either having french vinila, or fully cafinated coffee, boaring subject i know, others....
I am 18, i figure i can at least try to make an impression on people first b4 they think somthing bad about me,
truth be told, i experement with alot of dilirants, and hallucinogens, such as, Dxm, Dph, 2c-e, Lsd, Lsa, Mescaline, Ketamine, etc.
I might make an impression that im a druggie, but thats NOT how i see it, its merley an alternative reality!
I am 18, i figure i can at least try to make an impression on people first b4 they think somthing bad about me,
truth be told, i experement with alot of dilirants, and hallucinogens, such as, Dxm, Dph, 2c-e, Lsd, Lsa, Mescaline, Ketamine, etc.
I might make an impression that im a druggie, but thats NOT how i see it, its merley an alternative reality!
decide to hook them up with whatever it is their after. I dont know about you but I dont just do it for shits and giggles. I always try to make something out of it. Weather its a hoot, a rail, or a bud. Depending on the circumstances I am able to do very quite well at making myself a worth while reward.. I just got back from doing one of my personal best hussles ive done yet. Buddy (my custy) wanted a quarter oz (2 8balls). He goes what do you pay for a quarter around here $500? and I go Yeah thats what I usually pay. Really I only pay $400 So thats $100 profit in my pocket so far. Before I give him his product I take a half and put it in my pocket. I got the connection, I get him what he wants, I take the risk. So taking that half is....uh brain malfunction...I cant think of the proper statement that would go here but yeah I earned that half. So we get back to his hotel room I throw down buddys product and he says Right on man scores me 2 halves and gives me a $20 bill. So Im putting my shoes on gettin ready to head out and buy a pipe, buddy says You will be up later eh? Cuz ill probably be calling you again if thats ok. I say Yeah man call me any time id be more than happy to help you out.
So what u guys think did I do pretty good er what?
$120 Cash and a gram and a half. Best part is we were in a cab the whole time so that rocks my socks.
Feel free to share similar stories and whatever
So what u guys think did I do pretty good er what?
$120 Cash and a gram and a half. Best part is we were in a cab the whole time so that rocks my socks.
Feel free to share similar stories and whatever
My sister admitted to me the other day that she told my fucking ex that she loves him, and he has the same feelings for her. According to her they will never be together due to certain factors but I really don't believe that. I'm sure she's fucked around with him already. She will be moving into a house with him and a friend soon. I am speechless. My sister was one of my best friends. Why the fuck would a best friend fall in love with someone who abused you mentally and emotionally for over a year, verbally insulted you, and nearly poisoned you with drugs.
I am tired of being unable to trust anyone in my life. Almost every single person who I have let close to me has fucked me over in some way. Even my family. I was extremely close and trusting of my sister up until last month. I can sadly no longer say that I feel she is my "sister."
My ex once said to me that in life, you can only trust 1% of the people in your life. He said that people change, and that in a few more years my friend circles will have probably changed completely aside from a few people, and those few people will also eventually dwindle until there are only a select few left, the 1%. But I don't believe that anymore. I believe now that I AM that one percent. All that life has taught me in the past few years is that the only person you can trust, is yourself. No one else matters.
Too many of my family, friends, and past boyfriends have lied to me, used me, and hurt me. I'm really fucking sick of it. It's always the people who are closest to you that hurt you the most. So why should I bother to let anyone in from this point onwards. I won't have any of these problems if I push everyone away from me.
I am tired of being unable to trust anyone in my life. Almost every single person who I have let close to me has fucked me over in some way. Even my family. I was extremely close and trusting of my sister up until last month. I can sadly no longer say that I feel she is my "sister."
My ex once said to me that in life, you can only trust 1% of the people in your life. He said that people change, and that in a few more years my friend circles will have probably changed completely aside from a few people, and those few people will also eventually dwindle until there are only a select few left, the 1%. But I don't believe that anymore. I believe now that I AM that one percent. All that life has taught me in the past few years is that the only person you can trust, is yourself. No one else matters.
Too many of my family, friends, and past boyfriends have lied to me, used me, and hurt me. I'm really fucking sick of it. It's always the people who are closest to you that hurt you the most. So why should I bother to let anyone in from this point onwards. I won't have any of these problems if I push everyone away from me.
When I ordered broadband I promised myself I would start writing in my blog more. At the moment I only tend to write in it when I'm having a particularly emotional and stressful time. I feel like it would be a really good idea to try and document days when things aren't quite so awful... because I feel like I focus only on the hard times.
I'm doing administrative duties at my work which means that I don't have to sit and answer customer queries by telephone. This makes me happy because I'm great at admin and pretty shit at phone calls. My days pass much more quickly than when I'm on the phone which is obviously a good thing. I'm working between 8am and 4pm this week so I get finished up at a decent time which allows me the evening to myself.
Mostly in the evenings I sit and watch films or tv. Sometimes I listen to music or play my guitar and sing. I post things on my Tumblr blog. It's rare that I see anyone during the week unless it's at work, or at the supermarket, or on my way home from work. Some might say it's a bit of a lonely life. I guess to some extent it is but I feel happy this way. If I wanted to see people I could, but I'm very much a lone wolf and I need this time alone to restore myself.
I got a lift with Stephen after work so that was great as I didn't have to get a bus.
Bumped into Colm (my best friend) at the supermarket. He gave me a lift up the road which was great. He went home though, didn't stay, he said his ear is playing up. He's got Menieres and it makes him pretty miserable. He's so vulnerable sometimes, I just want to give him a big hug. He and his fiancee live in seperate towns and they only seem to spend weekends together. They've had a really tough time and it's really affected him. To be honest I'm not really convinced they should be together but I guess he doesn't really share the good times with me, he only really talks about things when they are bad, which has been most of the last two years so I guess my view is biased. Don't get me wrong, I like his fiancee, I was friends with her and it was me that introduced them... but I just feel that if after two years and countless break-ups, and her inability to understand him or emotionally support him... it's just not right. I guess just because things don't look good from the outside doesn't mean they aren't good when you're in the relationship. It's just that I also know that people stay in destructive relationships because they think that love is sometimes enough to salvage things. From experience sometimes love isn't enough and love can destroy just as easily as hatred can. I sometimes think that it can't be right that when he's depressed, when he's ill, all that stuff... he comes to me. I know that I'm his best friend and that's why he does it but sometimes I feel like if I was his fiancee I would hate it if my guy had such a close emotional bond with another female. Colm and I are so close that I always know when there's something wrong even if I haven't seen him. I can tell when he's not sleeping, I know when he's going to have a Meniere's attack. We text each other randomly at the same time. It's me that he texts at 4am when he's feeling shitty about life, not her. And it should be her. But I love him, and he loves me, and we've always looked after each other. I couldn't ever let him down. When I met him I was in a real state and it took tough love from him to bring me back to anything even resembling normality. I'm still what seems a long way from ok but I dread to think what might have happened if we hadn't met. I met him just a few weeks after my ex finished with me, and a week after my friend got killed in an accident. Randomly I started talking to him one night outside a pub when I was out drinking with my friends. We'd all got together to support each other and it felt like drinking was the only way we could try and cope at that point. I started talking to him and it turned out he knew my friend too. In some ways it was almost fate that we met. If it hadn't been for Murray I don't know if Colm and I would be so close. Although I would do just about anything to bring Murray back. He was such a genuinely good person and what happened was so awful, so tragic, and so needless.
I've imposed a bit of a Facebook blackout. I get so sick of it, it seems like such a good way of communicating but it stresses the fuck out of me. I used to love interacting with people through social media, I "know" so many interesting people but now that it's full of people that I have met in real life I just can't stand it. I got rid of it for at least three months but ended up going back on as I do like posting lots of music and photographs from events that I've taken my camera to. I think it's because of F. He's a guy that I hung out with a few times over the last few years. I really liked him but he's given me such short shrift and he only seems to speak to me when it suits him and I can't be bothered with it.
I think I've come to the conclusion that although I'm lonely as fuck I just don't have the ability to deal with a guy at the moment. My heart is so battered and bruised that sometimes I don't know if I will ever be ok again. I've had one great love in my life (Cub) and I don't think anything could ever reach that level of desire and love. I'm blatantly not equipped with the social skills to have a successful relationship. I'm bloody crazy. Guys don't tend to understand me. I push people away. I destroy love. I am not willing to go through that again and maybe I just don't deserve it. I put Cub through so much.
The only salvation that I really have is music. Singing is about the only thing that fills that space in my soul if only for a few minutes. Listening to music that speaks to me, like Morrissey, and the Cure, things like that... they make me feel things and it's ok because it's safe when a song evokes emotion. It's only dangerous when a person evokes emotion.
I suppose I should go and try to get settled for bedtime. I'm having a can of cider and listening to Christina Perri. Bit pop oriented but her song "the lonely" really speaks volumes for how I feel right now. I slept in for work today so I need to be in on time tomorrow as I had my appraisal today and it went much better than I had expected. I don't want to let them down. I need to finish at 4pm so that I can pick up my prescription and drop in to see how my tattoo design is coming along. I feel like once the tattoo is being done that I will start to feel better. Sometimes I feel that when I get tattooed it marks an ending of a time in my life and the start of a new era. It sounds a bit sick but sometimes the pain helps. I used to self harm when I was younger. I couldn't do it now, even if I was tempted, but I have to admit that the pain of a tattoo helps me release a bit of the anger and grief that I feel for some of the things that have got locked up inside of me.
There's things that have happened to me that people don't know about, and that haunt me. I'm starting to learn how to let them go... but I feel so bad about myself that sometimes it's easier to beat myself up with things I couldn't control because I feel like I deserve to be punished for having been a shitty person for so long. I wish I had a chance to absolve my past. There's so much that I'd do differently. I know I can't change the past... but I don't know how to start over.
I'm doing administrative duties at my work which means that I don't have to sit and answer customer queries by telephone. This makes me happy because I'm great at admin and pretty shit at phone calls. My days pass much more quickly than when I'm on the phone which is obviously a good thing. I'm working between 8am and 4pm this week so I get finished up at a decent time which allows me the evening to myself.
Mostly in the evenings I sit and watch films or tv. Sometimes I listen to music or play my guitar and sing. I post things on my Tumblr blog. It's rare that I see anyone during the week unless it's at work, or at the supermarket, or on my way home from work. Some might say it's a bit of a lonely life. I guess to some extent it is but I feel happy this way. If I wanted to see people I could, but I'm very much a lone wolf and I need this time alone to restore myself.
I got a lift with Stephen after work so that was great as I didn't have to get a bus.
Bumped into Colm (my best friend) at the supermarket. He gave me a lift up the road which was great. He went home though, didn't stay, he said his ear is playing up. He's got Menieres and it makes him pretty miserable. He's so vulnerable sometimes, I just want to give him a big hug. He and his fiancee live in seperate towns and they only seem to spend weekends together. They've had a really tough time and it's really affected him. To be honest I'm not really convinced they should be together but I guess he doesn't really share the good times with me, he only really talks about things when they are bad, which has been most of the last two years so I guess my view is biased. Don't get me wrong, I like his fiancee, I was friends with her and it was me that introduced them... but I just feel that if after two years and countless break-ups, and her inability to understand him or emotionally support him... it's just not right. I guess just because things don't look good from the outside doesn't mean they aren't good when you're in the relationship. It's just that I also know that people stay in destructive relationships because they think that love is sometimes enough to salvage things. From experience sometimes love isn't enough and love can destroy just as easily as hatred can. I sometimes think that it can't be right that when he's depressed, when he's ill, all that stuff... he comes to me. I know that I'm his best friend and that's why he does it but sometimes I feel like if I was his fiancee I would hate it if my guy had such a close emotional bond with another female. Colm and I are so close that I always know when there's something wrong even if I haven't seen him. I can tell when he's not sleeping, I know when he's going to have a Meniere's attack. We text each other randomly at the same time. It's me that he texts at 4am when he's feeling shitty about life, not her. And it should be her. But I love him, and he loves me, and we've always looked after each other. I couldn't ever let him down. When I met him I was in a real state and it took tough love from him to bring me back to anything even resembling normality. I'm still what seems a long way from ok but I dread to think what might have happened if we hadn't met. I met him just a few weeks after my ex finished with me, and a week after my friend got killed in an accident. Randomly I started talking to him one night outside a pub when I was out drinking with my friends. We'd all got together to support each other and it felt like drinking was the only way we could try and cope at that point. I started talking to him and it turned out he knew my friend too. In some ways it was almost fate that we met. If it hadn't been for Murray I don't know if Colm and I would be so close. Although I would do just about anything to bring Murray back. He was such a genuinely good person and what happened was so awful, so tragic, and so needless.
I've imposed a bit of a Facebook blackout. I get so sick of it, it seems like such a good way of communicating but it stresses the fuck out of me. I used to love interacting with people through social media, I "know" so many interesting people but now that it's full of people that I have met in real life I just can't stand it. I got rid of it for at least three months but ended up going back on as I do like posting lots of music and photographs from events that I've taken my camera to. I think it's because of F. He's a guy that I hung out with a few times over the last few years. I really liked him but he's given me such short shrift and he only seems to speak to me when it suits him and I can't be bothered with it.
I think I've come to the conclusion that although I'm lonely as fuck I just don't have the ability to deal with a guy at the moment. My heart is so battered and bruised that sometimes I don't know if I will ever be ok again. I've had one great love in my life (Cub) and I don't think anything could ever reach that level of desire and love. I'm blatantly not equipped with the social skills to have a successful relationship. I'm bloody crazy. Guys don't tend to understand me. I push people away. I destroy love. I am not willing to go through that again and maybe I just don't deserve it. I put Cub through so much.
The only salvation that I really have is music. Singing is about the only thing that fills that space in my soul if only for a few minutes. Listening to music that speaks to me, like Morrissey, and the Cure, things like that... they make me feel things and it's ok because it's safe when a song evokes emotion. It's only dangerous when a person evokes emotion.
I suppose I should go and try to get settled for bedtime. I'm having a can of cider and listening to Christina Perri. Bit pop oriented but her song "the lonely" really speaks volumes for how I feel right now. I slept in for work today so I need to be in on time tomorrow as I had my appraisal today and it went much better than I had expected. I don't want to let them down. I need to finish at 4pm so that I can pick up my prescription and drop in to see how my tattoo design is coming along. I feel like once the tattoo is being done that I will start to feel better. Sometimes I feel that when I get tattooed it marks an ending of a time in my life and the start of a new era. It sounds a bit sick but sometimes the pain helps. I used to self harm when I was younger. I couldn't do it now, even if I was tempted, but I have to admit that the pain of a tattoo helps me release a bit of the anger and grief that I feel for some of the things that have got locked up inside of me.
There's things that have happened to me that people don't know about, and that haunt me. I'm starting to learn how to let them go... but I feel so bad about myself that sometimes it's easier to beat myself up with things I couldn't control because I feel like I deserve to be punished for having been a shitty person for so long. I wish I had a chance to absolve my past. There's so much that I'd do differently. I know I can't change the past... but I don't know how to start over.
So today was awesome, at least for me and my hobby of taking recreational drugs.
I woke up around 10am because I had to go to Housing Court... it's a long story, but the gist of it is I didn't pay my rent because I spend all my money on oxycodone. Oh, wait, that's not a long story at all.
So like I finally left the house around noon after drinking coffee and popping 10 Percocet 5/325s and 3mgs of Klonopin. So I had 50mg of oxycodone and 3,250mg of fucking Tylenol. I know that shit is horrible for my liver but I don't seem to be jaundiced just yet. Plus I ran out of them today.
That was a good bottle... it was "free" except for the co-pay AND the Pharmacist fucked up and gave me 10 extra pills! I've never had a Pharmacy error that was actually in my favor so score one for me!
Me and my girlfriend kind of had some trouble filling the script for some reason though. First we went to CVS, which is where we always go. They said that they didn't have any Percocet in stock, name brand or generic, and that it was on backorder at every CVS. So, we were like whatever, let's try the "mom and pop" Pharmacy across the street. The Pharmacy tech took one look at the script and said they only fill Percocet prescriptions that come from the hospital in the neighborhood. I guess if they don't like filling legitimate prescriptions from legitimate Doctors, that's fine too.
So that left us with our last option (that was close by, at least...but I didn't feel like riding the subway so I was really hoping they had the fucking pills), the last resort ghetto pharmacy. It was actually the best one we went to by far -- from handing the Pharmacy tech the prescription to having the pills down my throat, it was maybe 30 minutes. They had one of those fancy pill-counting machines that will make the Doctor of Pharmacy degree a very expensive but useless piece of paper (but that's probably not true, Pharmacists are very important). They also filled my entire Klonopin script a week early so now I can actually fill my prescription the day I see my Doctor which is very convenient, I must say. This pharmacy wants to fill 'scripts and flip patients like nobody's business...
Anyhow. After I fixed myself up I went down to the fucking court house. It was pretty empty for a change. I did everything I needed to do except serve my Landlord's Lawyer but I'm gonna do that tomorrow. I wish I got it done today but I'm such a stupid cunt. So I was out of pills so I had to call my dealer buddy. I grabbed a good amount of pills for a painful price and then go shopping at one of those chain Dollar-Stores. We got like, mad candy for the munchies later and laundry detergent and Tupperware and shit. You know, boooooring shit. I popped a 30mg Roxy right after I saw my dealer so it was like fun shopping for laundry detergent and shit. Everything is fun when you're opiated.
I bought some spicy pork tamales from this Mexican place I love... Usually they run out of spicy pork tamales and all they have left are the flavorless chicken ones... They aren't even worth buying.
So I had some leftover cocaine (probably 1/5th of a gram) and Xanax and lots of pot... And that's what I've been doing for hours... lines of cocaine mixed with oxycodone and popping Xanax and Klonopin and smoking pot... And I feel probably as good as a person could physically feel, just short of shooting up pharmaceutical grade Heroin and Cocaine... Jesus. Fucking hell.
Why can't I just feel mashed off my face forever and ever and ever without any sort of consequences???
I woke up around 10am because I had to go to Housing Court... it's a long story, but the gist of it is I didn't pay my rent because I spend all my money on oxycodone. Oh, wait, that's not a long story at all.
So like I finally left the house around noon after drinking coffee and popping 10 Percocet 5/325s and 3mgs of Klonopin. So I had 50mg of oxycodone and 3,250mg of fucking Tylenol. I know that shit is horrible for my liver but I don't seem to be jaundiced just yet. Plus I ran out of them today.
That was a good bottle... it was "free" except for the co-pay AND the Pharmacist fucked up and gave me 10 extra pills! I've never had a Pharmacy error that was actually in my favor so score one for me! Me and my girlfriend kind of had some trouble filling the script for some reason though. First we went to CVS, which is where we always go. They said that they didn't have any Percocet in stock, name brand or generic, and that it was on backorder at every CVS. So, we were like whatever, let's try the "mom and pop" Pharmacy across the street. The Pharmacy tech took one look at the script and said they only fill Percocet prescriptions that come from the hospital in the neighborhood. I guess if they don't like filling legitimate prescriptions from legitimate Doctors, that's fine too.
So that left us with our last option (that was close by, at least...but I didn't feel like riding the subway so I was really hoping they had the fucking pills), the last resort ghetto pharmacy. It was actually the best one we went to by far -- from handing the Pharmacy tech the prescription to having the pills down my throat, it was maybe 30 minutes. They had one of those fancy pill-counting machines that will make the Doctor of Pharmacy degree a very expensive but useless piece of paper (but that's probably not true, Pharmacists are very important). They also filled my entire Klonopin script a week early so now I can actually fill my prescription the day I see my Doctor which is very convenient, I must say. This pharmacy wants to fill 'scripts and flip patients like nobody's business...
Anyhow. After I fixed myself up I went down to the fucking court house. It was pretty empty for a change. I did everything I needed to do except serve my Landlord's Lawyer but I'm gonna do that tomorrow. I wish I got it done today but I'm such a stupid cunt. So I was out of pills so I had to call my dealer buddy. I grabbed a good amount of pills for a painful price and then go shopping at one of those chain Dollar-Stores. We got like, mad candy for the munchies later and laundry detergent and Tupperware and shit. You know, boooooring shit. I popped a 30mg Roxy right after I saw my dealer so it was like fun shopping for laundry detergent and shit. Everything is fun when you're opiated.
I bought some spicy pork tamales from this Mexican place I love... Usually they run out of spicy pork tamales and all they have left are the flavorless chicken ones... They aren't even worth buying.
So I had some leftover cocaine (probably 1/5th of a gram) and Xanax and lots of pot... And that's what I've been doing for hours... lines of cocaine mixed with oxycodone and popping Xanax and Klonopin and smoking pot... And I feel probably as good as a person could physically feel, just short of shooting up pharmaceutical grade Heroin and Cocaine... Jesus. Fucking hell.
Why can't I just feel mashed off my face forever and ever and ever without any sort of consequences???
i've been meaning to make a post with sustenance for awhile now. but i end up typing a few sentences and deciding to delete the whole thing. so it is survey time 
Do you still talk to your FIRST love? married him
What was your FIRST alcoholic drink? screwdriver
What was your FIRST job? dishwasher at a bbq place in seaworld
What was your FIRST car? geo tracker
Who was the FIRST person to text you today? vgoraz if you count late last night as today. otherwise a coworker.
Who is the FIRST person you thought of this morning? husband
Who was your FIRST grade teacher? ms. freedman
Where did you go on your FIRST ride on an airplane? disneyworld
Who was your FIRST best friend & do you still talk? callie or valerie. and i still talk to both of them on occasion.
Where was your FIRST sleep over? cousin's house
Who was the FIRST person you talked to today? husband.
Whose wedding were you in the FIRST time? cousin's
What was the FIRST thing you did this morning? wake up.
What was the FIRST concert you ever went to? NKOTB with my dad when i was in like 2nd grade
FIRST broken bone? none
FIRST piercing? only ears
FIRST foreign country you've gone to? canada
FIRST movie you remember seeing? no idea.
When was your FIRST detention? never had one.
Who was your FIRST roommate? rachel.
Did you marry the FIRST person to ask for your hand in marriage/ you asked to marry? yup
What was the FIRST sport you were involved in? prolly t-ball
What were the FIRST lessons you ever took? prolly swim lessons
What is the FIRST thing you do when you get home? take off my shoes and socks
(i was too lazy to retype first normally for each question)
A - Age: nearly 30
B - Bed size: queen
C - Chinese Food Dish: sesame chicken
D - Dentist name: don't have dental insurance
E - Early Bird or Night Owl? night owl
F - Favorite color: silver
G - Gold or Silver: lol, silver
H - Height: 5'10"
I - Ink as in tatto's you have: none
J - Job title: behavioral therapist
K - Kitchen Meal or Restaurant? depends on how tired i am and what i want. i can cook well but some things are better left to restaurants
L - Living arrangements: temporary roommate and husband
M - Month of birth: july
N - Nicknames: g or a_c
O - On time or late: within 5 min
P - Pet Peeve: hypocritical people
Q - Quote from a movie:
R - Right or left handed: right
S - Siblings: younger sister
T - Time you wake up: 6am for work
U - Urgent thing on your to do list: laundry
V - Vegetable you dislike: iceberg lettuce. or beets. or baby corn
W - Wishing for: a better job
X - X-rays you've had: lungs
Y - Yummy food you make: chicken paprikash
Z - Zoo Favorite: penguins
Do you still talk to your FIRST love? married him
What was your FIRST alcoholic drink? screwdriver
What was your FIRST job? dishwasher at a bbq place in seaworld
What was your FIRST car? geo tracker
Who was the FIRST person to text you today? vgoraz if you count late last night as today. otherwise a coworker.
Who is the FIRST person you thought of this morning? husband
Who was your FIRST grade teacher? ms. freedman
Where did you go on your FIRST ride on an airplane? disneyworld
Who was your FIRST best friend & do you still talk? callie or valerie. and i still talk to both of them on occasion.
Where was your FIRST sleep over? cousin's house
Who was the FIRST person you talked to today? husband.
Whose wedding were you in the FIRST time? cousin's
What was the FIRST thing you did this morning? wake up.
What was the FIRST concert you ever went to? NKOTB with my dad when i was in like 2nd grade
FIRST broken bone? none
FIRST piercing? only ears
FIRST foreign country you've gone to? canada
FIRST movie you remember seeing? no idea.
When was your FIRST detention? never had one.
Who was your FIRST roommate? rachel.
Did you marry the FIRST person to ask for your hand in marriage/ you asked to marry? yup
What was the FIRST sport you were involved in? prolly t-ball
What were the FIRST lessons you ever took? prolly swim lessons
What is the FIRST thing you do when you get home? take off my shoes and socks
(i was too lazy to retype first normally for each question)
A - Age: nearly 30
B - Bed size: queen
C - Chinese Food Dish: sesame chicken
D - Dentist name: don't have dental insurance
E - Early Bird or Night Owl? night owl
F - Favorite color: silver
G - Gold or Silver: lol, silver
H - Height: 5'10"
I - Ink as in tatto's you have: none
J - Job title: behavioral therapist
K - Kitchen Meal or Restaurant? depends on how tired i am and what i want. i can cook well but some things are better left to restaurants
L - Living arrangements: temporary roommate and husband
M - Month of birth: july
N - Nicknames: g or a_c
O - On time or late: within 5 min
P - Pet Peeve: hypocritical people
Q - Quote from a movie:
R - Right or left handed: right
S - Siblings: younger sister
T - Time you wake up: 6am for work
U - Urgent thing on your to do list: laundry
V - Vegetable you dislike: iceberg lettuce. or beets. or baby corn
W - Wishing for: a better job
X - X-rays you've had: lungs
Y - Yummy food you make: chicken paprikash
Z - Zoo Favorite: penguins
Preload
2x 100mg 5-HTP - separate
2x 50mg Vitamin B6 - separate
2000mg Vitamin C
300mg Alpha Lipoic Acid
3x 485mg Cat's Claw - at once
500mg Magnesium
250mg Green Tea Extract (at 63% EGCG)
During
600mg Alpha Lipoic Acid
Post Load
3x GABA Calm capsules (5mg Magnesium, 125mg GABA, 50mg Glycine, 25mg N-Acetyl L-Tyrosine, 20mg Taurine) - at once
1x 5mg Melatonin - at once
3x 300mg Alpha Lipoic Acid - separate
4x 1000mg Vitamin C - separate
3x 100mg 5-HTP - separate
3x 485mg Cat's Claw - at once
250mg Green Tea Extract (at 63% EGCG)
Still need to get some Piracetam... >>
2x 100mg 5-HTP - separate
2x 50mg Vitamin B6 - separate
2000mg Vitamin C
300mg Alpha Lipoic Acid
3x 485mg Cat's Claw - at once
500mg Magnesium
250mg Green Tea Extract (at 63% EGCG)
During
600mg Alpha Lipoic Acid
Post Load
3x GABA Calm capsules (5mg Magnesium, 125mg GABA, 50mg Glycine, 25mg N-Acetyl L-Tyrosine, 20mg Taurine) - at once
1x 5mg Melatonin - at once
3x 300mg Alpha Lipoic Acid - separate
4x 1000mg Vitamin C - separate
3x 100mg 5-HTP - separate
3x 485mg Cat's Claw - at once
250mg Green Tea Extract (at 63% EGCG)
Still need to get some Piracetam... >>
The aches of trying to get clean of Dihydrocodeine - people may see it as weak but it's long half life is a bastard - plus my tiredness from the broken sleep the withdrawal is causing me is making me nuts.
I'm tired enough to fall asleep which is better than my body aching no matter how i sit/lie. However the night goes on for so long because i keep waking up over and over again all night. And then getting back to sleep is a bitch.
This is why I love my doctor. I tell him I can't sleep, he hands me a script for zopiclone. I'm counting the hours until bedtime tonight. Roll on blissful, uninterupted sleep!
I'm tired enough to fall asleep which is better than my body aching no matter how i sit/lie. However the night goes on for so long because i keep waking up over and over again all night. And then getting back to sleep is a bitch.
This is why I love my doctor. I tell him I can't sleep, he hands me a script for zopiclone. I'm counting the hours until bedtime tonight. Roll on blissful, uninterupted sleep!
I was rattling on about my favourite turntable . . .
The manufacturer was a short lived HiFi brand called Stathearn. During the 70's, various efforts were made by the UK governnment to try and relieve the Troubles in Northern Ireland. It was thought that a major contributor to unrest was economic stagnation. There was little investment and job creation at the time, so the govt provided grants to start up some new industries providing skilled jobs. The policy has some resemblance to the idea that if we could just get the Middle East to adopt our consumer DisneyLand, and provide jobs alongside, all the nasty extremists would run out of support. In Northern Ireland, the Strathearn Audio company was part of a series of several attempts to stifle dissent with prosperity. Later the DeLorean car company was another more notorious attempt, in which the CEO was eventually found to have been of dubious character. In many of these cases, unfortunately, safeguards were not sufficient to ensure fair employment policies and as a result, the established power imbance ensured that most jobs went to Protestants, not Catholics, who were ridiculously disadvantaged at that time. This only fed the anger of the Nationalist community, and thepropaganda og groups like the IRA. Don't get me wrong, I am a lapsed Anglican protestant agnostic. But that doesn't mean I am inured to the injustice sometimes perpetrated by my own people. I have lots of thoughts about religious issues across the board. But here I am talking about my Strathearn turntable and it's genesis, so I'll save all that for another time.
What did for Strathearn as a company was a series of tradgedies and mishaps. They attempted to rush their product out too early due to a premature advertising campaign which promised products in shops by the Christmas. Design teething trouble had not been fully addressed and the items dispatched to HiFi press reviewers did not make a great impression. The one unqualified golden review turned out to have been written by a journalist linked to the company, without actually having seen the finished product. In fact, one of the complaints was imperfect pitch control. I think I heard of a report that the company was affected by a terrorist incident aswell, which added further negative vibes to the situation.
I am a sucker for the underdog. Thus I was smitten with my turntable. I now have a second one for my shed/studio/geek zone, which also required some TLC before it would play well. This was because the previous owner had attached a make-do cartridge to the tone arm in a rather clumsy fashion. I was able to undo his botch job, clean it up and fit a brand new cartridge/needle. It appears to have no pitch issues, but I did add a tiny dash of oil to the bearing for futureproofing. There was a slightly more snazzy model - the STM2 - which featured magnetic pusle drive, touch sensitive start/stop/pitch control. I picked up a very sorry example at a car boot sale. I haven't started tackling it's ailments yet. To start with,the magnetic strip has unglued from the platter, and it is without cartidge or needle. These might be more tricky to find.
A few weeks ago, I cooked up Sunday lunch and had my parents over. Dad spotted the deck and began enthusing about his one. He had disposed of it after pitch problems began to become unignorable. By that point he had embraced the digital age so he hadn't really tried to fix it. He was slightly miffed to think that some bike chain oil might have solved the problem. Mine has now given me months of happy listening, and since I set it up properly, has revealed many delicious secrets encoded in the grooves of my vinyl collection.
My wife was away only last weekend so I took the opportunity to trip out and trawl through my collection a bit. I had approximately 3mg of 2CI-NBOMe that Saturday afternoon followed by a salad, fresh bread and fruit and then created a comfy den on the sofa in the dining room near the hifi. I could look out into the garden and watch the sparrows and blackbirds, pecking at the breadcrums I had spread earlier. Two Blue tits took a bath in the waterbowl outside, unaware of my intent gaze. The spring blossoms beginning to bloom on the trees shimmered while sparrows flitted in and out of the nooks and crannies of the hedgerow. As the evening began to darken, the activity began to decline. I worked through record after record, occasionally strumming my guitar along, or attempting to work out some musical chord pattern or melody on my guitar whilst listening along. I don't usually smoke in the house, but I allowed myself a few nice joints for company, and nibbled on various goodies from the fridge.
2CI-NBOMe is very agreeable to me. It has simillarities with the conventional 2Cs. There is more force or power to it's conjurings, lending it more prominent visual phenomena, for example. The overall alteration of thoughts and mental dynamics was equivalent to 2Cs but again more clear and pronounced. I did notice a greater tendency to more meaningfull mystical thought than 2C chemicals generally evoke in my experience. That is that concepts of wholeness, unity, love and empathy devloped in what felt like very deep sincerety and purity. I had heard other reports that it was comparable to acid. Of this I am not sure, and I like to initially take each substance on it's own terms, before comparing stats ala Top-Trumps. But, I could see why some might make the comparison. For me, 2CI-NBOMe was like Daddy sized 2CI. I felt the visual phenomena were of the same colours and dynamics as 2CI, but on a larger size scale. 2C's usually have fine grained visual pheneomena that are not massively vivid. 2CI-NBOMe, on the other hand featured grid or point like patterning,shimmering and oscillating on a magnified scale. Like a Tonka compared to a Matchbox toy car, or a poster to a postage stamp. Physically it did not feel uncomfortable. The onset phase was exciting in a euphoric way, always of a positive trajectory. It takes longer to work it's magic, and my first couple of attempts last year undershot slightly. Discretion is the better part of valour. There was consederable debate as the best form of administration. Some struggled to get it into solution, and although I am unsure which salt I have, I didn't have a problem, placing the sligtly bitter drops beneath my tongue to good effect. I noticed a numbness or tingling in the immediate site of application, reminding me of the Japanese delecessey of Puffa Fish. They arehighly toxic, featuring a paralysing nerve venom. A victim cannot coordinate the muscles to breath (or anything else for that matter) and thus rapidly fades to white. The fish is prepared by highly trained chefs who remove the anatomy containing the venom before serving the dish. The taste is accompanied by a slight vicarious tingling on the tongue due to the nerve blocking effects of even the extremely small quantity of venom remaining in the fish. With 2CI-NBOMe, that tingling served as a warning that I should be cautious with my calibrations. It was clearly discernable even on those initial occasions where the overall trip had not been particularly strong. I was intrigued to read on the chatboards the other day that the NBOMe materials might be considered chemical weapons on account of their high poteny by weight. I can see perhaps how this might come to be a problem if some lone lunatic were to try and induce a mass communal spiking incident. These things are now out there, alongside all the other morally ambiguous inventions of mankind (See Nuclear science, GM crops, the wheel etc). Regulated sales might control the supply and demand and take the industry away from shady people who would happily sell a Kilo of such a material to anyone prepared to pay, even if it looked like they were up to no good.
Unfortunately the kind of methods of calibration available to the average consumer ar not sensitive enough to accurately measure single doses of these materials. Some punters won't buy a cheap mg scale, never mind something more expensive and accurate. There is little doubt in my mind that 2CI-NBOMe has much to reccomend it. However, I will not be combining it with anything except marijuana and tea until more reports come through at least. I'm not sure if it needs modulating anyway, although I wouldn't mind trying to vape some DMT with it sometime. Not until next month - tolerance is said to be very rapid. I also prefer not to imdulge in heavy tripping when I am not in possesion of my beloved marijuana. I am just about finished smoking my last crop (White Widdow) which came out splendidly. and gave me three months of unrestrained herbal enlightenment. For the last five years I have been growing increasingly potent Widdow. Each crop, I refine my technique a little, so that now I have got the next one well under way before having smoked all the previous one. I am still a few (4-5) weeks off the next batch. I'm sure it will do me good to ease off a bit.
The manufacturer was a short lived HiFi brand called Stathearn. During the 70's, various efforts were made by the UK governnment to try and relieve the Troubles in Northern Ireland. It was thought that a major contributor to unrest was economic stagnation. There was little investment and job creation at the time, so the govt provided grants to start up some new industries providing skilled jobs. The policy has some resemblance to the idea that if we could just get the Middle East to adopt our consumer DisneyLand, and provide jobs alongside, all the nasty extremists would run out of support. In Northern Ireland, the Strathearn Audio company was part of a series of several attempts to stifle dissent with prosperity. Later the DeLorean car company was another more notorious attempt, in which the CEO was eventually found to have been of dubious character. In many of these cases, unfortunately, safeguards were not sufficient to ensure fair employment policies and as a result, the established power imbance ensured that most jobs went to Protestants, not Catholics, who were ridiculously disadvantaged at that time. This only fed the anger of the Nationalist community, and thepropaganda og groups like the IRA. Don't get me wrong, I am a lapsed Anglican protestant agnostic. But that doesn't mean I am inured to the injustice sometimes perpetrated by my own people. I have lots of thoughts about religious issues across the board. But here I am talking about my Strathearn turntable and it's genesis, so I'll save all that for another time.
What did for Strathearn as a company was a series of tradgedies and mishaps. They attempted to rush their product out too early due to a premature advertising campaign which promised products in shops by the Christmas. Design teething trouble had not been fully addressed and the items dispatched to HiFi press reviewers did not make a great impression. The one unqualified golden review turned out to have been written by a journalist linked to the company, without actually having seen the finished product. In fact, one of the complaints was imperfect pitch control. I think I heard of a report that the company was affected by a terrorist incident aswell, which added further negative vibes to the situation.
I am a sucker for the underdog. Thus I was smitten with my turntable. I now have a second one for my shed/studio/geek zone, which also required some TLC before it would play well. This was because the previous owner had attached a make-do cartridge to the tone arm in a rather clumsy fashion. I was able to undo his botch job, clean it up and fit a brand new cartridge/needle. It appears to have no pitch issues, but I did add a tiny dash of oil to the bearing for futureproofing. There was a slightly more snazzy model - the STM2 - which featured magnetic pusle drive, touch sensitive start/stop/pitch control. I picked up a very sorry example at a car boot sale. I haven't started tackling it's ailments yet. To start with,the magnetic strip has unglued from the platter, and it is without cartidge or needle. These might be more tricky to find.
A few weeks ago, I cooked up Sunday lunch and had my parents over. Dad spotted the deck and began enthusing about his one. He had disposed of it after pitch problems began to become unignorable. By that point he had embraced the digital age so he hadn't really tried to fix it. He was slightly miffed to think that some bike chain oil might have solved the problem. Mine has now given me months of happy listening, and since I set it up properly, has revealed many delicious secrets encoded in the grooves of my vinyl collection.
My wife was away only last weekend so I took the opportunity to trip out and trawl through my collection a bit. I had approximately 3mg of 2CI-NBOMe that Saturday afternoon followed by a salad, fresh bread and fruit and then created a comfy den on the sofa in the dining room near the hifi. I could look out into the garden and watch the sparrows and blackbirds, pecking at the breadcrums I had spread earlier. Two Blue tits took a bath in the waterbowl outside, unaware of my intent gaze. The spring blossoms beginning to bloom on the trees shimmered while sparrows flitted in and out of the nooks and crannies of the hedgerow. As the evening began to darken, the activity began to decline. I worked through record after record, occasionally strumming my guitar along, or attempting to work out some musical chord pattern or melody on my guitar whilst listening along. I don't usually smoke in the house, but I allowed myself a few nice joints for company, and nibbled on various goodies from the fridge.
2CI-NBOMe is very agreeable to me. It has simillarities with the conventional 2Cs. There is more force or power to it's conjurings, lending it more prominent visual phenomena, for example. The overall alteration of thoughts and mental dynamics was equivalent to 2Cs but again more clear and pronounced. I did notice a greater tendency to more meaningfull mystical thought than 2C chemicals generally evoke in my experience. That is that concepts of wholeness, unity, love and empathy devloped in what felt like very deep sincerety and purity. I had heard other reports that it was comparable to acid. Of this I am not sure, and I like to initially take each substance on it's own terms, before comparing stats ala Top-Trumps. But, I could see why some might make the comparison. For me, 2CI-NBOMe was like Daddy sized 2CI. I felt the visual phenomena were of the same colours and dynamics as 2CI, but on a larger size scale. 2C's usually have fine grained visual pheneomena that are not massively vivid. 2CI-NBOMe, on the other hand featured grid or point like patterning,shimmering and oscillating on a magnified scale. Like a Tonka compared to a Matchbox toy car, or a poster to a postage stamp. Physically it did not feel uncomfortable. The onset phase was exciting in a euphoric way, always of a positive trajectory. It takes longer to work it's magic, and my first couple of attempts last year undershot slightly. Discretion is the better part of valour. There was consederable debate as the best form of administration. Some struggled to get it into solution, and although I am unsure which salt I have, I didn't have a problem, placing the sligtly bitter drops beneath my tongue to good effect. I noticed a numbness or tingling in the immediate site of application, reminding me of the Japanese delecessey of Puffa Fish. They arehighly toxic, featuring a paralysing nerve venom. A victim cannot coordinate the muscles to breath (or anything else for that matter) and thus rapidly fades to white. The fish is prepared by highly trained chefs who remove the anatomy containing the venom before serving the dish. The taste is accompanied by a slight vicarious tingling on the tongue due to the nerve blocking effects of even the extremely small quantity of venom remaining in the fish. With 2CI-NBOMe, that tingling served as a warning that I should be cautious with my calibrations. It was clearly discernable even on those initial occasions where the overall trip had not been particularly strong. I was intrigued to read on the chatboards the other day that the NBOMe materials might be considered chemical weapons on account of their high poteny by weight. I can see perhaps how this might come to be a problem if some lone lunatic were to try and induce a mass communal spiking incident. These things are now out there, alongside all the other morally ambiguous inventions of mankind (See Nuclear science, GM crops, the wheel etc). Regulated sales might control the supply and demand and take the industry away from shady people who would happily sell a Kilo of such a material to anyone prepared to pay, even if it looked like they were up to no good.
Unfortunately the kind of methods of calibration available to the average consumer ar not sensitive enough to accurately measure single doses of these materials. Some punters won't buy a cheap mg scale, never mind something more expensive and accurate. There is little doubt in my mind that 2CI-NBOMe has much to reccomend it. However, I will not be combining it with anything except marijuana and tea until more reports come through at least. I'm not sure if it needs modulating anyway, although I wouldn't mind trying to vape some DMT with it sometime. Not until next month - tolerance is said to be very rapid. I also prefer not to imdulge in heavy tripping when I am not in possesion of my beloved marijuana. I am just about finished smoking my last crop (White Widdow) which came out splendidly. and gave me three months of unrestrained herbal enlightenment. For the last five years I have been growing increasingly potent Widdow. Each crop, I refine my technique a little, so that now I have got the next one well under way before having smoked all the previous one. I am still a few (4-5) weeks off the next batch. I'm sure it will do me good to ease off a bit.
I have vague memories of being three years old. Thats about as far as I can go with explicit memories of the kind containing distinct people or places and situations. I love trawling through this kind of data. It becomes accessible sometimes during some of my heavier psychedelic escapades, usually under the influence of oral DMT or 4sub-DMT materials. That is one of the reasons I have such a soft spot for them. They allow a bit of psychological spring cleaning at times, in the way that they can sometimes elucidate areas of ones personal narrative where you have not necessarily been honest with yourself. Although psychedelic drugs have a reputation for illusion (indeed 'Hallucination' means misperception or perception without stimuli), there is some element of truth in that which can be divined from them. So although memory can be fickle and becomes more so with passing years, I find that amidst my sometimes chaotically tripped out minds eye, there are sometimes nuggets of biographical information which go beyond the information usually available in consensual reality.Over the last year or so, I have been revisiting some of the real-world things that have come to light under these kinds of conditions.
I have always had a reasonable aptitude for musical matters. I'm no genius or savant, but I have a grasp of things which I sometimes assume are obvious to others, but apperently are not. Thanks to my dear M + D, I was given piano lessons up to a reasonable standard, learned to play the cello and the double bass too. I still play guitar and bass guitar now. I had the chance to play in a reasonably competent youth orchestra which gave me a broader listening taste than most. I have played bass in bands for years and I compose music with my pc. Since Christmas I have been learning slide guitar and I have a couple of blues harmonicas which I'm getting round to messing with. Ioften wondered where this kind of thing originated for me.
Listening to music has long been a favorite pastime for me. M + D always had music of some form or other around, be it on the stereo, or just Dad banging away on his piano. He was in his element when he played. He had many other instruments, brass, woodwind, guitar/banjo etc. I think the urge to tinker musically with whatever is at hand was inculcated from very early. I was weened on the Beatles, folk music, classics.
In 1976, my Uncle Jimmy died. He was my father's Uncle really. He had stayed in sheepfarming while my Grandfather managed to get into law at Cambridge. When Jimmy died, he left a small but handsome share to my Dad. Now at the time I didn't know that stuff. But I clearly remember the excitement that year when my parents spent the inheritence. I recall the arrival of our colour tv, the stereo, Dad's piano and later at Christmas, I received a Tonka (which still exists, somewhat rusty and well played with), and a yellow teddy. In the way that childhod memories often are, it was a shiny year. I can picture my parents as a young couple too, Dad 35 years younger than I am now.
I developed a kind of obsession with records. The items themselves are to me a satisfying thing. I like the ritual of taking them from their sleeves, and putting down the needle. They even smell good to me. OK, sometimes they are a little crackly, but the intonation of their voices is somehow warmer and more pleasurable than any digital system (Perhaps I'm biased). Anyway, I have a shed full of vinyl records which I am not going to part with. They all play OK on a decent turntable. Much of the collection is old and vintage. Some LPs have written messages to people, having been gifts between friends or lovers. I have a vintage copy of Love's 'Forever Changes' with just such a personal anotation dated Christmas 1968. I like the feeling that somebody has interacted emotionally with the record before me. Part of me wants to know who the cool lady was that bought such a tasty LP for her significant other. When I was little, I remember my dad being quite protective of his records and turntable, not surprisingly since at that age, my fingers were usually stuck up my nose, or clarted up from making a mud pie. The turntable was a beatiful sleek black unit an I had a clear impression of it's delicate nature and precision, even at age 3.
You can imagine my delight at finding the exact same model (Strathearn - STM4) on eBay last year. I had a few record players in different rooms of my house already, but I coundn't resist bidding for it. I won thanks to a final bid of 75 quid in the last seconds.The seller lived near my Father in law's home so he agreed to pick it up for me and bring it on his next visit. It arrived the week before I got married last September, so after a quick look I boxed it away for later examination.
When I came back to it, I discovered it was not in working order. The platter was in contact with the body and thus wouldn't spin. My heart sank at this, and I wondered if repair would be within my ability. The mechanism is very elegant in theory, aiming to minimise unwanted noise from the vibrations of moving parts. The platter itself feature a magnetic tape strip around the rim underneath so that it represents one half of the electric motor. In the base, a series of electromagnets pulse sequentially to provide drive to the platter, modulated by a quartz governor to maintain the correct speed. According to the manual, the deck can sometimes start up backwards, but just requires stopping with a gentle hand, and pushing clockwise to correct. Unfortunately the central hub of the platter had pushed upward during transit. The hub seemed to be wedged into the central hole of the platter, but I couldn't work out how it would go back in properly and stay. It was an incredibly tight fit. Perhaps the platter was heated to expand the hole, and then contract again at room temperature, providing a rock solid grip (a technique simillar to that used to attach new running surface tyres to railway wheels). In the end I used judicious brute force to get it into place. However, on replacinf the platter on the spindle, the hub kept pushing out almost immediatley. In despair, I pulled out the superglue and weighed books on the hub to be sure of the fix. Super glue struck me as a cop out and sort of unsatisfactory. It worked though and I found the deck spinning happily away.
I pulled out my Dad's old copy of Tubular Bells to christen the set up. As the virgin needle I had bought touched down on the groove, I began to realise two unpleasant facts. Firstly, the 33rpm setting was roughly 20% too quick. Not a quantity that can be ignored. Mum's Sgt Pepper LP sounded like a freakish chipmunk novelty spoof version. Furthermore, the pitch was not even consistant. It wavered slightly all the time. I realised the whole thing was going to have to come apart again. Regarding the speed settings, I scrutinized the printed circuit board for some master control relating to them. Sure enough two variable resisters with screw head controls could be seen, labelled 33 and 45. I adjusted them several times before their pitches finally matched the records played with identical digital recordings on another stereo.
The wavering still remained. I cleaned the inside surface of the platter, the magnetic strip, and basically any surfaces where the clearances were very fine. During this process, I recovered one long dead spider, who had been smeared around the inside of the spindle near the central ball bearing. I assumed that he was the culprit of the problem and reassembeld yet again.
To my horror, I found the tone arm had now snapped and flopping hideously on its flimsy wires. I went off to have a joint, prefering that to the thoughts of violence I was then beginning to harbour towards the turntable. As I smoked, it occurred to me that if the quarts pitch control circuit was dodgy, there was absoloutely nothing I knew that could help. My electronics nous is poor. Then as I finished my joint, one last hope leapt out at me. I would dab a little bycycle chain oil on the central ball bearing. Also, perhaps, with extremely carefull use of Superglue again, I might even be able to fix the tone arm. It had snapped a clean break diagonally across the plastic (very stiff plastic, almost like ceramic) just where the cartridge meets the arm. An hour later, I returned to the incident scene and made my final bid to resurrect the thing.
Success. Tubular Bells sounded great, clear and pitch perfect. I checked the 45 setting and it too was right. I had fixed it up and was slightly chuffed. Continued . . .
I have always had a reasonable aptitude for musical matters. I'm no genius or savant, but I have a grasp of things which I sometimes assume are obvious to others, but apperently are not. Thanks to my dear M + D, I was given piano lessons up to a reasonable standard, learned to play the cello and the double bass too. I still play guitar and bass guitar now. I had the chance to play in a reasonably competent youth orchestra which gave me a broader listening taste than most. I have played bass in bands for years and I compose music with my pc. Since Christmas I have been learning slide guitar and I have a couple of blues harmonicas which I'm getting round to messing with. Ioften wondered where this kind of thing originated for me.
Listening to music has long been a favorite pastime for me. M + D always had music of some form or other around, be it on the stereo, or just Dad banging away on his piano. He was in his element when he played. He had many other instruments, brass, woodwind, guitar/banjo etc. I think the urge to tinker musically with whatever is at hand was inculcated from very early. I was weened on the Beatles, folk music, classics.
In 1976, my Uncle Jimmy died. He was my father's Uncle really. He had stayed in sheepfarming while my Grandfather managed to get into law at Cambridge. When Jimmy died, he left a small but handsome share to my Dad. Now at the time I didn't know that stuff. But I clearly remember the excitement that year when my parents spent the inheritence. I recall the arrival of our colour tv, the stereo, Dad's piano and later at Christmas, I received a Tonka (which still exists, somewhat rusty and well played with), and a yellow teddy. In the way that childhod memories often are, it was a shiny year. I can picture my parents as a young couple too, Dad 35 years younger than I am now.
I developed a kind of obsession with records. The items themselves are to me a satisfying thing. I like the ritual of taking them from their sleeves, and putting down the needle. They even smell good to me. OK, sometimes they are a little crackly, but the intonation of their voices is somehow warmer and more pleasurable than any digital system (Perhaps I'm biased). Anyway, I have a shed full of vinyl records which I am not going to part with. They all play OK on a decent turntable. Much of the collection is old and vintage. Some LPs have written messages to people, having been gifts between friends or lovers. I have a vintage copy of Love's 'Forever Changes' with just such a personal anotation dated Christmas 1968. I like the feeling that somebody has interacted emotionally with the record before me. Part of me wants to know who the cool lady was that bought such a tasty LP for her significant other. When I was little, I remember my dad being quite protective of his records and turntable, not surprisingly since at that age, my fingers were usually stuck up my nose, or clarted up from making a mud pie. The turntable was a beatiful sleek black unit an I had a clear impression of it's delicate nature and precision, even at age 3.
You can imagine my delight at finding the exact same model (Strathearn - STM4) on eBay last year. I had a few record players in different rooms of my house already, but I coundn't resist bidding for it. I won thanks to a final bid of 75 quid in the last seconds.The seller lived near my Father in law's home so he agreed to pick it up for me and bring it on his next visit. It arrived the week before I got married last September, so after a quick look I boxed it away for later examination.
When I came back to it, I discovered it was not in working order. The platter was in contact with the body and thus wouldn't spin. My heart sank at this, and I wondered if repair would be within my ability. The mechanism is very elegant in theory, aiming to minimise unwanted noise from the vibrations of moving parts. The platter itself feature a magnetic tape strip around the rim underneath so that it represents one half of the electric motor. In the base, a series of electromagnets pulse sequentially to provide drive to the platter, modulated by a quartz governor to maintain the correct speed. According to the manual, the deck can sometimes start up backwards, but just requires stopping with a gentle hand, and pushing clockwise to correct. Unfortunately the central hub of the platter had pushed upward during transit. The hub seemed to be wedged into the central hole of the platter, but I couldn't work out how it would go back in properly and stay. It was an incredibly tight fit. Perhaps the platter was heated to expand the hole, and then contract again at room temperature, providing a rock solid grip (a technique simillar to that used to attach new running surface tyres to railway wheels). In the end I used judicious brute force to get it into place. However, on replacinf the platter on the spindle, the hub kept pushing out almost immediatley. In despair, I pulled out the superglue and weighed books on the hub to be sure of the fix. Super glue struck me as a cop out and sort of unsatisfactory. It worked though and I found the deck spinning happily away.
I pulled out my Dad's old copy of Tubular Bells to christen the set up. As the virgin needle I had bought touched down on the groove, I began to realise two unpleasant facts. Firstly, the 33rpm setting was roughly 20% too quick. Not a quantity that can be ignored. Mum's Sgt Pepper LP sounded like a freakish chipmunk novelty spoof version. Furthermore, the pitch was not even consistant. It wavered slightly all the time. I realised the whole thing was going to have to come apart again. Regarding the speed settings, I scrutinized the printed circuit board for some master control relating to them. Sure enough two variable resisters with screw head controls could be seen, labelled 33 and 45. I adjusted them several times before their pitches finally matched the records played with identical digital recordings on another stereo.
The wavering still remained. I cleaned the inside surface of the platter, the magnetic strip, and basically any surfaces where the clearances were very fine. During this process, I recovered one long dead spider, who had been smeared around the inside of the spindle near the central ball bearing. I assumed that he was the culprit of the problem and reassembeld yet again.
To my horror, I found the tone arm had now snapped and flopping hideously on its flimsy wires. I went off to have a joint, prefering that to the thoughts of violence I was then beginning to harbour towards the turntable. As I smoked, it occurred to me that if the quarts pitch control circuit was dodgy, there was absoloutely nothing I knew that could help. My electronics nous is poor. Then as I finished my joint, one last hope leapt out at me. I would dab a little bycycle chain oil on the central ball bearing. Also, perhaps, with extremely carefull use of Superglue again, I might even be able to fix the tone arm. It had snapped a clean break diagonally across the plastic (very stiff plastic, almost like ceramic) just where the cartridge meets the arm. An hour later, I returned to the incident scene and made my final bid to resurrect the thing.
Success. Tubular Bells sounded great, clear and pitch perfect. I checked the 45 setting and it too was right. I had fixed it up and was slightly chuffed. Continued . . .
Copy do dis daddy read? Do u read? Come in, do u read?
No I dont read, Im illiterate u tool!
Daddyo do u copy? Come in Daddyo do u copy?
I just told u Im illiterate u fool, how the fuck all u expectin me to copy when I dont read or write?
Damn u white folks are dumber than an inbred crossed with a pickle and a deer u DILDOE, daymn!
HEY BOI! FETCH ME SOME WOOD CHUCKS OVER THERE!
I beg ur pardon? Did u just call me BOI? Or did ur ignorant redneck ass call ROY?
LOOKA here BillyBeau, we gots r selves an uppidy nigger on r hands! A real smart lipn he thanx he is, we gonna---
DID U SAY BO WEEE or did u say. . . Roy?
AH SED, - - -
B4 the cracker cud finish, a loud, shrill, shriek coming from an equally obnoxious cracker princess yelled, ROY!
GIT YO MOONSHINE PICKLED PUNK ASS N UR OWN CAMPER SHELL OR GRANNY AN I GONNA PUMP UR COON CHASIN FULLA DADDYS HOMEMADE HOLLOW POINT AMMO specials! NOW! OR I KILL YA! - - -Half assed excerpt from Jordan, the Big Bad Warden
No I dont read, Im illiterate u tool!
Daddyo do u copy? Come in Daddyo do u copy?
I just told u Im illiterate u fool, how the fuck all u expectin me to copy when I dont read or write?
Damn u white folks are dumber than an inbred crossed with a pickle and a deer u DILDOE, daymn!
HEY BOI! FETCH ME SOME WOOD CHUCKS OVER THERE!
I beg ur pardon? Did u just call me BOI? Or did ur ignorant redneck ass call ROY?
LOOKA here BillyBeau, we gots r selves an uppidy nigger on r hands! A real smart lipn he thanx he is, we gonna---
DID U SAY BO WEEE or did u say. . . Roy?
AH SED, - - -
B4 the cracker cud finish, a loud, shrill, shriek coming from an equally obnoxious cracker princess yelled, ROY!
GIT YO MOONSHINE PICKLED PUNK ASS N UR OWN CAMPER SHELL OR GRANNY AN I GONNA PUMP UR COON CHASIN FULLA DADDYS HOMEMADE HOLLOW POINT AMMO specials! NOW! OR I KILL YA! - - -Half assed excerpt from Jordan, the Big Bad Warden
im not sure where to put this but here seems as good a place as any. well presently i live in canada but am moving to perth australia in a few months time, im hopelessly addicted to opiates, hydromorph being my usual poison, i want to know if it is readily available in oz as it is in canada. can u buy opiates onthe streets there as u can everywhere in canada. are there any bluelighters in perth who can contact me and point me in the right direction. please and thankyou for hearing me out. so pls message mr with any kinda info u can give me on the availability of opiates there also whatcan i expect to pay, in a perfect world i would love to hear from someone who could help me out once i get there, look forward to hearing from somene to tell me best places to score or any people who have some available opoid of any kind that they would be willing to part with. thanks
HP has been famous for her excellent brands many year, especially HP Compaq Presario CQ, HP Pavilion dv laptops were lots of people’s favorite. There are some people forgot HP laptop password date from the HP laptop come out. In fact, people meet such a problem is not so trouble now so that you do not worry about lost laptop password. There are many HP password recovery solutions can be easily found on internet.
Here I collect some popular solutions to help reset HP laptop password if your laptop installed Windows system such as Windows 7/Vista/XP.
Solution 1 Reset HP laptop password by another user account with administrator privilege.
If you have another available user account as administrator, you can use this account to reset other user password when you forgot HP password. Take Windows XP for example, follow the steps bellow:
Step 1: Login Windows as administrator, click “control panel” and open “user accounts” to access users list.
Step 2: Click whichever user account which you want to reset its password, select “change the password” or “remove the password”.
Step 3: Type a new password in the “New password box” and type it again to confirm. Input a password hint or not then click “OK” to complete HP password reset.
Note, there is a hide Administrator account was created in our computer when we install Windows system. You can login with it in safe mode.
Step 1: Press F8 immediately when restart your HP laptop to access safe mode.
Step 2: Refer to the 2,3 step above to reset password of whichever user account.
Solution 2 Reset HP laptop password with Offline Windows Password & Registry Editor.
Offline Windows Password & Registry Editor is a famous software which can be used to reset HP laptop password that installed Windows NT/2000/XP/2003/VIST/WIN7/2008 when you lost HP password, but note that it just can reset Windows local password. If you want to reset domain password, you can use another popular software, Windows Password Rescuer, to reset it on Windows 2008/2003/2000. Get to the point, here are the steps to reset HP password:
Step 1: Download Offline Windows Password & Registry Editor and required software such as CD burning tool or USB burning tool.
Step 2: Burn the Offline Windows Password & Registry Editor ISO file to a blank CD or USB drive.
Step 3: Set your HP laptop to boot from CD or USB drive via BIOS SETUP.
Step 4: After Offline Windows Password & Registry Editor start up successfully, resetting HP laptop password by a few steps in DOS setting.
In consideration of the complex operations of the process which requires the basic knowledge of linux shell and it is also depend on different computer or different Operating System, I recommend computer novice to use solution 3. Or you can google for “Reset Windows password with Offline Windows Password & Registry Editor” to complete HP password reset task.
Solution 3 Reset HP password with professional password recovery tool.
If you do not have another administrator account on HP laptop or you have little experience in Windows or LUNIX operations, you can use Windows Password Rescuer to help reset HP password without lose date. This software was provided by DAOSSOFT corperation, it supports HP laptop password reset in Windows 7/Vista/XP and HP computer installed Windows 7/Vista/XP/2008/2003/2000. About four steps bellow:
Step 1: Download and install Windows Password Rescuer on another available computer.
Step 2: Run the software to burn it to a blank CD or USB. The process of burning is automatically and quickly. This is why so many computer novice choose it to help recover Windows password.
Step 3: Set your HP laptop to boot from CD (burn it to a CD ) or USB drive (burn it to a USB drive) via BIOS SETUP. If you have trouble in this step, please refer to:
How to boot from CD.
How to boot from USB.
Step 4: After the laptop boot from CD or USB, Windows Password Rescuer will display a friend operation window. Then you can reset whichever user password by a few clicks.
You also can use this software to create new admin account without login. With this new user, you can login Windows directly and/or change other user password.
These three solutions were great that can perfectly work in any people’s HP laptop and HP computer. I have also tested each solution myself.
If you are using HP Compaq computer with Windows 2008/2003/2000 as a server, you can use Windows Password Rescuer Advanced edition to reset Windows domain password when you lost HP Compaq password.
Here I collect some popular solutions to help reset HP laptop password if your laptop installed Windows system such as Windows 7/Vista/XP.
Solution 1 Reset HP laptop password by another user account with administrator privilege.
If you have another available user account as administrator, you can use this account to reset other user password when you forgot HP password. Take Windows XP for example, follow the steps bellow:
Step 1: Login Windows as administrator, click “control panel” and open “user accounts” to access users list.
Step 2: Click whichever user account which you want to reset its password, select “change the password” or “remove the password”.
Step 3: Type a new password in the “New password box” and type it again to confirm. Input a password hint or not then click “OK” to complete HP password reset.
Note, there is a hide Administrator account was created in our computer when we install Windows system. You can login with it in safe mode.
Step 1: Press F8 immediately when restart your HP laptop to access safe mode.
Step 2: Refer to the 2,3 step above to reset password of whichever user account.
Solution 2 Reset HP laptop password with Offline Windows Password & Registry Editor.
Offline Windows Password & Registry Editor is a famous software which can be used to reset HP laptop password that installed Windows NT/2000/XP/2003/VIST/WIN7/2008 when you lost HP password, but note that it just can reset Windows local password. If you want to reset domain password, you can use another popular software, Windows Password Rescuer, to reset it on Windows 2008/2003/2000. Get to the point, here are the steps to reset HP password:
Step 1: Download Offline Windows Password & Registry Editor and required software such as CD burning tool or USB burning tool.
Step 2: Burn the Offline Windows Password & Registry Editor ISO file to a blank CD or USB drive.
Step 3: Set your HP laptop to boot from CD or USB drive via BIOS SETUP.
Step 4: After Offline Windows Password & Registry Editor start up successfully, resetting HP laptop password by a few steps in DOS setting.
In consideration of the complex operations of the process which requires the basic knowledge of linux shell and it is also depend on different computer or different Operating System, I recommend computer novice to use solution 3. Or you can google for “Reset Windows password with Offline Windows Password & Registry Editor” to complete HP password reset task.
Solution 3 Reset HP password with professional password recovery tool.
If you do not have another administrator account on HP laptop or you have little experience in Windows or LUNIX operations, you can use Windows Password Rescuer to help reset HP password without lose date. This software was provided by DAOSSOFT corperation, it supports HP laptop password reset in Windows 7/Vista/XP and HP computer installed Windows 7/Vista/XP/2008/2003/2000. About four steps bellow:
Step 1: Download and install Windows Password Rescuer on another available computer.
Step 2: Run the software to burn it to a blank CD or USB. The process of burning is automatically and quickly. This is why so many computer novice choose it to help recover Windows password.
Step 3: Set your HP laptop to boot from CD (burn it to a CD ) or USB drive (burn it to a USB drive) via BIOS SETUP. If you have trouble in this step, please refer to:
How to boot from CD.
How to boot from USB.
Step 4: After the laptop boot from CD or USB, Windows Password Rescuer will display a friend operation window. Then you can reset whichever user password by a few clicks.
You also can use this software to create new admin account without login. With this new user, you can login Windows directly and/or change other user password.
These three solutions were great that can perfectly work in any people’s HP laptop and HP computer. I have also tested each solution myself.
If you are using HP Compaq computer with Windows 2008/2003/2000 as a server, you can use Windows Password Rescuer Advanced edition to reset Windows domain password when you lost HP Compaq password.
I don't do this to hurt her. I don't use drugs to escape from her. She's the only good thing in my life. I love her so much. I wish my love for her could overcome this beast of a monkey I have on my back but it can't. The love comes from a very pure, light place. The monkey... well, the monkey doesn't give a fuck. The monkey wants what it wants and he wants it NOW. I'm trying my best to shut the fucking monkey up but it's not working... it's not working at all. The monkey doesn't want to listen to logic or reason or love. It just want drugs. It doesn't matter what kind, really... Although the monkey has its preferences. This fucking monkey is heavy. It has a vise-like grip on my throat. It's in there with my brain. It fights for survival. I give in. I wouldn't wish this addiction on her, but if she could only see what I struggle with on a daily basis -- sometimes even hour to hour... It fucking sucks. I don't want to take money from them. I don't want to sell my shit. I don't want to be homeless. I don't want to drop out of school. I don't want to be unemployed. I don't want my family to starve. I just don't know what to do anymore. My fucking face hurts. My nostril is burning and my eye is tearing. I'm awake at 6:30am only because I haven't slept yet. I think I did a little over half a gram of cocaine and 40mg of oxycodone up my nose, along with 50mg of oxycodone I ate earlier and 2mg of Xanaax and 4mg of Klonopin. I want to smoke a little but I don't know if the paranoia will build up and send me over the edge... I am so thirsty but I am afraid to leave this room... Jesus... And I did it all to myself. What's wrong with me? Lots and lots of things. My friend had a miscarriage. I am so bummed out for her. She really wanted the baby too. She didn't deserve that to happen to her. I know I didn't deserve all of the things that happened to me but they did happen and I don't know how to deal with them... My fucking nose is leaking... God, what do I do? What do I do? The only answer, says the monkey, is more coke. That's always the answer, isn't it??? Fuck you, monkey, I don't want to listen to you. You give me enough trouble...
I am so bummed out for her. She really wanted the baby too. She didn't deserve that to happen to her. I know I didn't deserve all of the things that happened to me but they did happen and I don't know how to deal with them... My fucking nose is leaking... God, what do I do? What do I do? The only answer, says the monkey, is more coke. That's always the answer, isn't it??? Fuck you, monkey, I don't want to listen to you. You give me enough trouble...
So it's been over a year and a half since I got into this shit way too deep... I've been sober for about 2 weeks and I've never been more depressed. I smoked up the rest of my pot and the only thing left is Adderall... but do I want to be awake? I'm definitely a downer type of person. I'm too high-strung as it is, so Adderall is kind of silly for me to take recreationally. And I cannot miss my psychiatrist appointment on Tuesday.
Fuck it, Adderall down the hatch. These interminable 2 days are going to drive me insane... I cannot take being sober for this long. (I don't count marijuana and Klonopin as drugs) ... No opiates for 2 weeks. Now I'm eating the Adderall I bought and saved for a rainy day... although, it isn't raining and it's nearly 3am... so much for cliches.
Fuck it, Adderall down the hatch. These interminable 2 days are going to drive me insane... I cannot take being sober for this long. (I don't count marijuana and Klonopin as drugs) ... No opiates for 2 weeks. Now I'm eating the Adderall I bought and saved for a rainy day... although, it isn't raining and it's nearly 3am... so much for cliches.
See, this interests me. It might not interest anyone else but I want to write it down because it is a completely unique situation. I can find no record of it ever being done except one trial that was run in incredibly low doses. And before even seeing that trial I had the idea, medicine interests me, so I suppose that makes me feel a little proud.
23 year old presents with chronic migraines with aura (also known as transformed migraines). Headaches basically every day with no known cause and a completely clean CT scan. No treatment has cleared more than a small amount of the pain and does not reduce the frequency.
Dietary and lifestyle changes make no difference.
Tried on amitryptiline but fatigue too extreme to continue with medication. Eventually (now at year 5 of headaches) they decided to try nortriptyline which generally has less fatigue and was told to take it at night. I had little faith in medicine at this point. Found that with this drug I was at the other end of the spectrum. It caused insomnia and my heart to race when doing casual physical tasks.
Changing to taking the pill in the morning eased the insomnia but in order to see if it would actually work I went to my doctor and asked for propranolol to slow my heart. They are technically both CNS depressants so in most people they would cause low BP and heart rate. In me they normalised everything. So at this point I am taking 160mg Propranolol and 75mg Nortriptyline.
Over the next few weeks I had a very noticable decline in headaches. So the constant pain I felt started changing into pain free days with a rebound headache only every two weeks or so. Only real side effects of taking these two medications in conjunction was an initial increase in appitite that subsided after a couple of weeks and dizziness upon standing that is ongoing.
I'm sure I bored everyone but it may be helpful to others in my position.
23 year old presents with chronic migraines with aura (also known as transformed migraines). Headaches basically every day with no known cause and a completely clean CT scan. No treatment has cleared more than a small amount of the pain and does not reduce the frequency.
Dietary and lifestyle changes make no difference.
Tried on amitryptiline but fatigue too extreme to continue with medication. Eventually (now at year 5 of headaches) they decided to try nortriptyline which generally has less fatigue and was told to take it at night. I had little faith in medicine at this point. Found that with this drug I was at the other end of the spectrum. It caused insomnia and my heart to race when doing casual physical tasks.
Changing to taking the pill in the morning eased the insomnia but in order to see if it would actually work I went to my doctor and asked for propranolol to slow my heart. They are technically both CNS depressants so in most people they would cause low BP and heart rate. In me they normalised everything. So at this point I am taking 160mg Propranolol and 75mg Nortriptyline.
Over the next few weeks I had a very noticable decline in headaches. So the constant pain I felt started changing into pain free days with a rebound headache only every two weeks or so. Only real side effects of taking these two medications in conjunction was an initial increase in appitite that subsided after a couple of weeks and dizziness upon standing that is ongoing.
I'm sure I bored everyone but it may be helpful to others in my position.
Like usual I ended up doing something stupid with one of my best friends (only have two best friends total). Anyways we were at my house listening to music and as usual we were like we wish we were high. We had xanax, alcohol and roxicodone but didn't touch them... Well it ends up we start drink and then tell my mother we're going on a walk and we would be back soon. She asked me if it was a short walk and I said it would be. This was around 7:30pm on Sunday night... We ended up walking a few blocks from my house to call my friend's mother to bring us to the walmart area... Her mom ended up coming to get us. She then dropped us off and left. So then my friend and I continue to drink and go then go to wendy's (fast food place if you're out of the us not sure if you have them anywhere else lol)... At the fast food place we end up buying one small drink only so we can go and sit down. Then that leads us to pouring alcohol in the cup while taking some xanax. We chill there for a little and then are off to somewhere else.
My phone starts blowing up at around 8 something and my mom I asking when ill be back home and that she was cooking a good meal. She then questioned where we were and I told her my friends mom drove us to wendy's, she then didn't believe that and asked again. I told her the same thing (we weren't really there). My mom then leaves me alone only then to blow my phone up again but luckily it died. Haha, no more hearing her anymore... So my friend and I are walking down this long road in the city while we listen to music and talk about life. Its probably close to 9pm at this point and we have no plans of going back to my place. We are getting pretty out of it.... This street is going on forever... I then realize I'm not going home anytime soon.
I ended up walking around the city with my friend and in bad areas... We were even bothered by older men at many points. It was 11pm at night by this point and I finally contacted my mom using my friends cell. I told her we were walking around and I would be home soon (yeah I said that the first time too)... Let's just say she was pissed and didn't think it was safe for two girls to be walking by themselves at this hour. The thing is she was pretty much right. Well, my friend and I just said YOLO to each other...you only live once (suicide silence fuck drake!) And we continued on walking. We ended up in this city park and sat on the benches in a bad area. There we talked about life and what not while holding one another... As usual we just said how much we loved one another and were the greatest friends ever even though we were fucked up once again. I finally came to the conclusion that my mom must think I'm a drug addict or something and if she doesn't then she must be blind... My friend laughed and that's when her phone finally rang at midnight. It was her mother telling her she had to go to bed for work so she wanted to pick her up. We then were like oh fuck and had to run back to my place....
Wow we were so fucked up. Well we made it to my place which was blocks away but luckily we made it back right when her mom pulled in. I gave her a hug bye and told her I would see her sometime this week. However when I came home my mom gave me this look as if she wasn't sure I was drunk or high. Then she later blamed it on energy drinks (LOL denial). I did feel bad though because I ended up going out to get high rather than stay home with her. Our shows were on and she even cooked for once. Instead she had a plate for me left cold on the stove as she tells me it came out perfect but of course I'm the worst daughter ever and basically tell my mom off... Do whatever without a care... Anyways later that night I came to talk to her about non-sense because I was still high and didn't want to be alone. I told her I loved her and she said she loved me and smiled. That smile on her face made me sad because I know she really does love me but I'm so selfish at times... Why must I be this way?
And as I write this I know my friend is coming over again today. We will tell ourselves we won't get high but of course we will. My mom will then be upset once again because I made plans with her but am breaking them yet again... I will then leave home as usual and get high. Do stupid things and then when I'm coming down I will think of how much of a fuck up I am; how much I rather be dead than alive but why wish because clearly I already am. Yet, why must I still have to walk this earth and live this lie when I'm dead inside.
My phone starts blowing up at around 8 something and my mom I asking when ill be back home and that she was cooking a good meal. She then questioned where we were and I told her my friends mom drove us to wendy's, she then didn't believe that and asked again. I told her the same thing (we weren't really there). My mom then leaves me alone only then to blow my phone up again but luckily it died. Haha, no more hearing her anymore... So my friend and I are walking down this long road in the city while we listen to music and talk about life. Its probably close to 9pm at this point and we have no plans of going back to my place. We are getting pretty out of it.... This street is going on forever... I then realize I'm not going home anytime soon.
I ended up walking around the city with my friend and in bad areas... We were even bothered by older men at many points. It was 11pm at night by this point and I finally contacted my mom using my friends cell. I told her we were walking around and I would be home soon (yeah I said that the first time too)... Let's just say she was pissed and didn't think it was safe for two girls to be walking by themselves at this hour. The thing is she was pretty much right. Well, my friend and I just said YOLO to each other...you only live once (suicide silence fuck drake!) And we continued on walking. We ended up in this city park and sat on the benches in a bad area. There we talked about life and what not while holding one another... As usual we just said how much we loved one another and were the greatest friends ever even though we were fucked up once again. I finally came to the conclusion that my mom must think I'm a drug addict or something and if she doesn't then she must be blind... My friend laughed and that's when her phone finally rang at midnight. It was her mother telling her she had to go to bed for work so she wanted to pick her up. We then were like oh fuck and had to run back to my place....
Wow we were so fucked up. Well we made it to my place which was blocks away but luckily we made it back right when her mom pulled in. I gave her a hug bye and told her I would see her sometime this week. However when I came home my mom gave me this look as if she wasn't sure I was drunk or high. Then she later blamed it on energy drinks (LOL denial). I did feel bad though because I ended up going out to get high rather than stay home with her. Our shows were on and she even cooked for once. Instead she had a plate for me left cold on the stove as she tells me it came out perfect but of course I'm the worst daughter ever and basically tell my mom off... Do whatever without a care... Anyways later that night I came to talk to her about non-sense because I was still high and didn't want to be alone. I told her I loved her and she said she loved me and smiled. That smile on her face made me sad because I know she really does love me but I'm so selfish at times... Why must I be this way?
And as I write this I know my friend is coming over again today. We will tell ourselves we won't get high but of course we will. My mom will then be upset once again because I made plans with her but am breaking them yet again... I will then leave home as usual and get high. Do stupid things and then when I'm coming down I will think of how much of a fuck up I am; how much I rather be dead than alive but why wish because clearly I already am. Yet, why must I still have to walk this earth and live this lie when I'm dead inside.
Scientists on drugs to boost brain power
One in five scientists admits to using prescription drugs to improve their focus, concentration or memory, an online survey finds.
The overwhelming majority say they take the drugs to improve concentration, and about half say they do so daily or weekly.
The 1427 respondents from 60 countries completed an informal, online survey posted on Nature Network, an online forum for scientists run by the publisher of the journal Nature.
http://www.abc.net.au/science/articles/2008/04/10/2213144.htm
One in five scientists admits to using prescription drugs to improve their focus, concentration or memory, an online survey finds.
The overwhelming majority say they take the drugs to improve concentration, and about half say they do so daily or weekly.
The 1427 respondents from 60 countries completed an informal, online survey posted on Nature Network, an online forum for scientists run by the publisher of the journal Nature.
http://www.abc.net.au/science/articles/2008/04/10/2213144.htm
