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Today, whilst staring at the mirror at my pasty gormy eyed face it kinda hit me that I should probs take it a bit slower with all the drugs and drink and shit. I really need to learn how to do things in moderation and space things out a bit.

Also my vision has kind of fucked for the last few days and I constantly have really bad headaches. I've got a black shadow in my left eye and it's really been bothering me as everywhere I look, it's right there in the center of my vision. I really hope it's not the result of me being dumb a couple days ago and bombing some RC's. Or maybe from my lack of sleep and not eating much? I don't know I just hope it goes away soon.

to do list-
eat healthier, excerise more, sort out sleeping pattern, cut back on drugs/ drink, revise for resits, do c/w, sort out a car, get a job!, pay overdue rent, sort out that police/ court shit..

"I asked for some ope, he thougth I said 'dope' adn pulled out a bag of shwag."

A few nights ago, I squirted some liquid from a partially dissolved piece of "tar heroin" up my nose to see if it would do anything and not kill me. It didnt' burn. I waited a few minutes. Nothing. I squirted the rest of the water up my nose, tilted my head back, waited a few minutes, flushed the rest of the undissolved chunk down the toilet, and threw the nasty blackened spoon down the garbage shoot so my gf wouldn't find it. She doesnt' know about my very occaisonal heroin or cocaine use. For me, heroin or another opiate 3 or 4 times per year, cocaine once every year or so on my birthday or something... That pattern has worked out great for 10 years or so now. The other stuff: marijuana, psychedelics, coffee, alcohol are the only things she approves of. After a little while, I think I felt a little bit of a rush, but it was getting late so I went to bed, read for a few minutes, then went to sleep. My gf had alerady gone to bed and fallen asleep.


I woke early this morning (the other morning by now) around sunrise. A_'s (my gf) bedroom faces East, and its large windows open over Downtown, the Financial District, and across the Bay and to the hills above Oakland and Berkeley. The first morning light through these windows always wakes me. As I got out of bed I noticed that my ankles were raw and bleeding from ragged fingernail-shaped scratches. After a moment I remembered them itching very badly during the night. Maybe this was due to the chunk of fake tar heroin I had dissolved in water and insufflated last night. Maybe it was really impure or maybe I prepared it the wrong way, but whatever was wrong with it, there still might have been enough heroin in it to do someting subtle. Come to think of it, I did get a little bit of a rush and felt warm before I went to sleep last night. A_ noticed my wounds when I put some shea butter lotion on them. She scolded me like a small child for scratching myself bloody.


One of the problems I have when sharing a room with someone is that their thoughts intrude into my own headspace during the night. This I know is a purely subjective experience. It happens when I'm very relaxed and my mind is empty of thought, but it only happens in the presence of others. Overnight train rides or flights are the worst. Sharing a tent is bad too. It's a horrible cacophany of voices, songs, music blasting in my head. The sound sources are directional, and I can tell the people around me are emitting the "sounds." ---The sounds come from the people near me.

When it happens, it keeps me from resting properly. I can force myself fully awake and find my surroundings to be dead silent. But relax again and the noise comes back. And drugs exacerbate my sensitivity to this intrusion. So, the last few hours of last (the night of the tar) night were difficult. I was very relaxed, not asleep but not awake, just somewhere in between. Some of this time, A_ wasn't dreaming. In an in-between dream, but still deep sleep cycle, she was cycling or looping through a certain sequence of repetitive thoughts over and over for what seemed hours. Not a proper dream and not conscious thought, just her sleeping brain processing information fromt he day before. Kind of like the brain venting off the previous day's stress. I think most peopel do it. Mostly, the thoughts were emotionally charged with worry. She was looping on about how she was afraid I was going to leave her. This thought and others followed the worry theme of her sleep-thoughts. It upset me greatly. She has never told me about these worries before. Maybe I should ask her what's why she feels this way.

http://www.redroom.com/video/%E2%80%9Cdinosauria-we%E2%80%9D-charles-bukowski

Dinosauria, We
by Charles Bukowski


Born like this
Into this
As the chalk faces smile
As Mrs. Death laughs
As the elevators break
As political landscapes dissolve
As the supermarket bag boy holds a college degree
As the oily fish spit out their oily prey
As the sun is masked
We are
Born like this
Into this
Into these carefully mad wars
Into the sight of broken factory windows of emptiness
Into bars where people no longer speak to each other
Into fist fights that end as shootings and knifings
Born into this
Into hospitals which are so expensive that it's cheaper to die
Into lawyers who charge so much it's cheaper to plead guilty
Into a country where the jails are full and the madhouses closed
Into a place where the masses elevate fools into rich heroes
Born into this
Walking and living through this
Dying because of this
Muted because of this
Castrated
Debauched
Disinherited
Because of this
Fooled by this
Used by this
Pissed on by this
Made crazy and sick by this
Made violent
Made inhuman
By this
The heart is blackened
The fingers reach for the throat
The gun
The knife
The bomb
The fingers reach toward an unresponsive god
The fingers reach for the bottle
The pill
The powder
We are born into this sorrowful deadliness
We are born into a government 60 years in debt
That soon will be unable to even pay the interest on that debt
And the banks will burn
Money will be useless
There will be open and unpunished murder in the streets
It will be guns and roving mobs
Land will be useless
Food will become a diminishing return
Nuclear power will be taken over by the many
Explosions will continually shake the earth
Radiated robot men will stalk each other
The rich and the chosen will watch from space platforms
Dante's Inferno will be made to look like a children's playground
The sun will not be seen and it will always be night
Trees will die
All vegetation will die
Radiated men will eat the flesh of radiated men
The sea will be poisoned
The lakes and rivers will vanish
Rain will be the new gold
The rotting bodies of men and animals will stink in the dark wind
The last few survivors will be overtaken by new and hideous diseases
And the space platforms will be destroyed by attrition
The petering out of supplies
The natural effect of general decay
And there will be the most beautiful silence never heard
Born out of that.
The sun still hidden there
Awaiting the next chapter.

Click to expand...

My gf and I are bouncing between Portland Ore and San Fran Cal for the foreseeable future until one of us finds a permanent job in either city. We currently each have temporary jobs whose duration is unspecified. She still has her apartment in SF. And there is a neighbor with a wifi router designated "sexygirl69" who has been generously donating internet access to her neighbors, including me...

Now that it's summer, it's easy to take time off work to travel. I'm tryign to think of some place to go for a 4 day weekend. Maybe backpacking. The Sierra Club in the Bay Area is very active in backpacking, hiking, peak-bagging, etc. Maybe I will try to hook up with them (the under 40 crowd, not the usual geriatrics who limp along unbelievably slowly and make a 3 hour hike take 12 hours) and

A few days ago, I noticed that my Teva sandals (bought 10 years ago) had started to delaminate -- the sole of the left sandal was starting to peel off. So yesterday, I glued it back on with silicone sealant and let it cure overnight. I'm wearign them again today and they are staying together. so far so good.

Yesterday, I went down to the waterfront and bought what I thought was tar heroin (I know, never buy drugs on the street. The current experience only confirms this.). The guy selling it broke it off a larger piece he was keeping in a black plastic bag. When I tried to dissolve it, it was hard and chunky and only partially dissolved in a bit of water in a spoon when heated. It had a strong vinegar smell that was almost floral. I've never seen tar before --- I was pretty sure by now that I had been ripped off, but still, I squirted some of it up my nose to see if it would do anything and not kill me.

This journal entry is a long rant, and it is probably offensive and misogynistic. For this reason, I am putting it in NSFW tags.

Today is Tuesday, July 27, 2010 and it is now 853PM here in Makati, Luzon, Philippines.

Recap: I was talking about expats here in the Philippines, and about the Japanese kidnapping victim from Sulu.

This entry: One of the important facets of my life, naturally, is my 26 year addiction to opiates and opioids. What is the difference between the 2? An "opiate" is a substance wholly or mostly manufactured from opium alkaloids. An "opioid" is a substance, synthetic OR natural, that closely mimics the physiological mechanics of an opiate.

There is a suprising amount of ignorance on this issue, even among pharmacologists, and if you can imagine. Morphine, the creme de la creme of opiates, is sometimes misindentified as an "opioid" simply because it is chemically extracted from opium. Very often "opioids," oxymorphone for example,an analogue of morphine, is listed as an "opiate" because of a structure similar to morphine.

Opium, as most people know, is the sap of the poppy. There are 3 forms of poppy that produce opium with discernible alakloidal content (enough alakloids to notice), but only 2 that are worth talking about. Most people ignorantly believe only 1 form, Papaver Somiferum, can produce the sap.

Papaver Setigerum, a shorter plant can produce it just as well but the alakloids are roughly half as much as you would find in the average uncultivated Somniferum. The 3rd variety has a discernible amount but roughly trace level which means that unless you are hugely into botany, it won't matter, hence I will ignore it.

The Philippines is a strange nation. OK, THAT is well established, but I mean in terms of opiates/opioids and "drugs" in general.

We are in SE Asia, but far enough from Mainland Asia so that there are real differences in the drug scene.

Up until the 1970s the country was like the rest of the region, albeit in much smaller quantities. Opium was prevalent anywhere "Sangleys" (Chinese) lived. Until the early 20th Century the government liscenced opium dens and opium shoppes, but only ethnic Chinese were ever liscenced consumers.

The Spanish, who ruled this country until 1898 basically took the same live and let live attitude that other colonial powers did. One found opium shoppes all over the continent and they still exist in India. Singapore, extremely anal about drugs now, had them until the 1960s, as did Malaysia, etc.

America took over the Philippines several months after Spain abandoned it. At first it was business as usual. America after all sold heroin through the Sears Catalogue in infant elixirs and cocaine was in soda pop.

Then came the American Temperance movement, which long before it turned its rabid attentions to alcohol was fixated upon cocaine and opiates (there were no opioids then).

The Harrison Act in 1914 basically shut down the legal trade in the US (it required heavy taxation though substances were still legal per se). By the early 1920s physicians could no longer freely prescribe heroin and cocaine for addiction maintenance, despite most addicts still being white, middle class and female.

It was the Temprance Movement that changed American perceptions, painting opiates and cocaine as substances that unleashed the animal instincts in non-whites. Pamphlets had "Steppin" and "Fetchit" type characters in blackface taking a hit of cocaine and turning into crazed jungle killers. The racial connotations preyed upon American ignorance and helped turn the tide against what was really an issue for white middle class America.

At this point America began clamping down in the Philippines, closing many of the liscened shoppes and dens and pushing it into the underground, where it became a hugely profitable enterprise that spawned all sorts of related crime (sound familiar?).

From then until WWII Manila at least, had a thriving underground scene, mostly in morphine hypodermic tablets, uncoloured water soluble 1/4 grain tablets for injection, and loose phamaceutically pure cocaine.

The War came and of course everything became scarce. The main source of opiates at that point was the Shanghai and Tsientsien combinations in Eastern China. These syndicates were Triad controlled (Chinese organised crime) and manufactured morphine and heroin tablets in professional labs, tabletting them in licit factories.

The Japanese first invaded Eastern China, colour that trade extinct. The Philippines saw its supply quickly dry up, with any existing stocks depelted by the time Pearl Harbor took place and shut down most of the trans-Pacific trade (colour cocaine extinct as well).

After WWII things never returned to pre-war levels but by the 1960s there was a small but solid heroin scene in Metro Manila. It expanded so rapidly in the late 1960s that there were at least 3 medium scale heroin labs in the city, all competing for local business, selling Heroin #3.

The heroin numbering system is an invention of the American DEA, another facet of American ignorance.

There are 4 numbered types:

#1: Finished Morphine.

As we see, it is not even heroin, ergo extremely ignorant. It was included in the system because it was, at the time the system was devised in 1971, a separate commodity in the manufacturing food chain.

The term "Finished" refers to it being highly pure morphine hcl.and not the usual impure freebase often utilised in illicit heroin labs.

Producers in SE Asia'a Golden Triangle (Burma, Thailand and Laos) manufactured #1 as a commodity, as something they traded at a price higher than the usual morphine, because of the ease in manufacturing heroin when using #1.

Pressed into 700 gramme blocks imprinted with brand names, it was sold to labs as far afield as Hong Kong. #1 fell off the radar in the late 1990s and until 2005 was only being made in 1 small lab in Burma and only being sold in 1 small area of the Malaysian bush just south of Pattani. Since then there hasn't been any sighted, though that isn't neccessarily the end of it. Still, my money is on "extinct."

#2: Heroin Freebase.

Freebase in this case 1st being a salt that is reverted back to a freebase for ease in the final manufacture.

In the very early 1980s, with a huge shift in West Asian manufacturing from Turkey/Syria into Lebanon, and from Pakistan into Afghanistan manufacturers began selling Freebase as an end product to consumers, as opposed to a separate commodity in the chain of manufacture, as was the case with Heroin#1.

Until this point, heroin smoking in Europe, which began in the Netherlands with Heroin #3 from Hong Kong and Thailand was a very localised phenomenon. Most other European product was Heroin#4, purely for injection.

Today Europe is almost entirely taken with Heroin #2, though it is also used for injection with a catalyst of citric or absorbic acid to adjust the pH.

#3: Heroin hcl. Specifically prepared for smoking at POM (Point of Manufacture). After manufacture, unpurified heroin hcl, is mixed with an admixture of caffeine, strychnine,quinine, flavourings (vanillin, rosewater) and colourings (red, grey, pearl white). It is then moistned over a steam bath and forced through a mold to produce uniform pellet sized granules.

Heroin, to be smoked effectively must have a melting point (m.p.) closely in synch with its vapourisation point (v.p.). In other words, the point at which the heroin melts must be close to the point in which it starts to vapourise.

In its natural state heroin hcl. will melt long before it vapourises. In other words, it disappears before you can even inhale it.

A way to avoid this is to add a substance that will bring those 2 points into a close alignment so that the majority of the heroin will vapourise before dissolving.

That is where the caffeine comes into play. Caffeine has a higher m.p., and by adding up to 40% by weight and mixing all of the powders optimally you are able to stall the melting sufficiently, so that you can enjoy enough of the vapour.

The flavourings, strychnine and quinine relate to the East China trade in the early 20th Century. The labs used to use these agents to give the heroin tablets, which were made for smoking, a noticeably chemical taste. Opium, for a long time, had been mixed with powderised aspirin to optimise burning. This admixture of asprin and latex produced a noticeable odor when burned, one addicts associated with a quality experience.

The manufacturers of heroin tablets had a suprisingly difficult time building product cachet, people didn't want to forgo opium, which offered extreme ritualisation, the preperation of latex and asprin, getting it ready for smoking with repeated heatings and molding with needles and finger tips, the laying of head and even the way in which the pipe was cradled were all part of the experience.

The heroin manufacturers wanted to re-create some of that and so they attempted to pattern their product in that fashion. Crumbling a tablet into a cigarette just didn't hold the same experience, but IF they could cheaply reproduce the taste, they had a chance.

Strychnine isn't harmful in trace amounts, quinine was OK in moderate dosages and so it was a 90:10 quinine:strychine mix, with the vanillin,etc. added as perfume, just as opium sometimes had it added as well. The colouring was a form of branding, like a trademark. #3 also carried this practice as well.

Heroin #3 disappeared from all but a tiny area in Kuala Lampur and Perang in Malaysia in the mid 1990s. By the turn of the millenium the form was extinct.

#4: Heroin hcl. Specifically prepared for injection at POM.

The technical definition is extremely pure and de-colourised but by virtue of the end point being injection, latex based varieties like "Mexican Tar" and "Homebaked" are also, technically, #4.

Continued...

(Edited for spelling)

I am moving to another city tomorrow, leaving Toronto for a city where I know will be good for my son and i.

yeah thats right, terry and i are no more and for good reason. well a good MANY reasons. that i shall not list but those who need to know do. none of which involve stupidity on my part. unless dreaming of kicking one in the nuts counts as stupid? nahhh lol.

i leave at 6am, yay fun ! ....not lol

good news is that i am finally only 2Lbs off my goal weight. I am now 110Lbs and I should be 112Lbs which isn't bad but its been a long journey getting here. People don't understand how hard it is to gain weight when you have a high motabulism.

I caught a sinus cold which is very minor at the moment just last night / this morning. I hope I feel better in the morning, but really who cares at least i'll be happier !!

Won't be online much in the next month, which sucks but hey, what needs to be done needs to be done and it outweighs the want to converse with friends online.

I am still alive here, but have things to do.

I will be on Facebook more than anything else. Feel free to contact me there.

At first my friends and I were just socialites frolicking around NYC, selling bags of weed, going to bars. We were riding together in the back of pickup trucks. Two friends in particular stood out in this dream. One is from long ago and another is recent yet fading away, as I continue to isolate myself in the waking hours.

But I woke up. Like so many dreams, this one was cut short in a way. When I jumped back into my slumber, I was still in a big city but this time it was like I was in a movie, a BIG doomsday one about aliens coming to destroy the planet as long as we humans were pieces of shit to it and eachother.

My super-powers must've been amplified by their (the aliens') tinkering and I could fly sort of and cause explosions and all kinds of cool shit. Every so often a bridge would give out and carloads of people screaming would fall into a river. I ran and flew around, seeking the conference of other people in these difficult times. They were wowed by my super powers, commenting, "you could save us."

This is another dream in a set (all in a row of 5 days now) of "empowering" dreams I've been having. In one way or another, I was UN-limited physically in dreaming. Not typical for me, I think on it during the day while going at normal daytime chores and activities, trying to rationalize the subconscious. To no avail, not that I really ever get to explain dreams in my own context, I end up empty-handed and wondering.

It was one of the most "fun" dreams I've ever had though. Yet I can't pinpoint anything inherently enjoyable about it as it fades from memory as the hours press on. I wish I could jump back into that fantasy and fly around for a few more hours but the sun is too high and I've got too many promises to keep today.

Just a quick thought, maybe i'm struggling to feel empowered now that I'm unemployed and these dreams are stabs at redemption or something similar. I rarely edit blogs.

I forgot I posted in here before . . I just wanted to note this rough conversation . .


July 28 at 4:08pm
---start idea---- This maker Faire is kinda interesting and the fact that Ford got it to come to Detrioit . . . I mean what computer show goes to Detroit? I watched the Discovery Channel a year ago on the New ford Factory and how it has Grass on the roof and all this other crazy automated shit . . I think this Maker Fair coming to Detroit is highly influenced by this factory, , ,
I guess of course I didnt may attention to where is was at @ The Henry, Ford Sat Sun
but look at all the people there. . . . Singer?? Thats apolstry, Autodesk Kauffman, Subaru Att WIFI ---- DUUUUUDE what did I tell you ATT signal in the car that communicated with the IBM Paten device on the traffic poles
IMAGINE it

-----start story------
I can tell you already what they are doing with this
Putting fucking att towers across the country on utility polls . . . Not to mention ATT has most all US Government contracts for telcommunications. Imagine,We are at a military facility working as secrete IT peeps. . . . "locate Sir Sunny Bono!" says Rick Sir Ricardo military General. On the screen we watch, within seconds we see 4 separate screens fly up showing Location of his car, Location of his Phone (registered to his credentials collected), location of his wife or legal registered other, and Garage webcam which is connected to home security threw att wifi internet.

As the general is scanning the info on the screen. He pulls up a UID screen in front of him which looks to be the view of the dotmatrix display (8bit - led b&w) the vehicle controls. The Gerneral then chanted out "SPEED?". One of the little people responded with "158 MPH sir @ Tire heat at 210 degree Farahnhigh SIR!". We look at each other wondering what the General will do.

The General lifts his hand and starts tapping away at the UID Field and soon the screens showed the Car coming to a slow stop for he has instructed the cars gear to be put in nutural (N) and has disabled the starter in the car. (so he cant try to restart the car) We laugh in simple smiles . . deep down we created the system. . 5 minutes later the little people chant out that Sunny Bono has failed the GE blood test (see little blood test is new at this point because it is too easy to have facke fingerprints and blood detection is instant of multiple if not all substances and tells us if he is vaccinated or not) but we found weed in his system smoked within 2 hours. "And he is in custudy SIR).

We just caught a Un-regulated CLoan! yeah 2017 - Moses

-----End story - Example
------ continued IDEA

This allows lets say control if you speed or run a red light. . .not to mention entertainment. . .instant weather and traffic updates. . . and worse Ads like every mile it changes . .
using geo location it could be a local sponsored dinner on mile 56
and even better if kids see it in the back in the van they will chant till the end
WTF

For the first time in my life as an adult, I am unemployed. I officially qualified for unemployment from the state bureau. I am one of the millions they bitch about every day on Fox News. My "day job" no longer exists for me.

Of course it's hard to sever ties completely with those you spent so much of your day-time with for about two years. I'm still coming in after hours, consulting for cash. Paint is a hard business, on both sides. I only shifted across this line really. I probably shouldn't write this, but I'm not really unemployed. Oh, I feel so dangerous after typing that. Though not published yet, I know that having a job while drawing unemployment is both illegal and the american dream. Anyway, enough paranoia for one post.

Today is better than yesterday. My thoughts aren't so compartmentalized in my brain, unable to come together into a cohesive unit. Yesterday, probably just another full day of denial about my suffering as a possible mental case and subsequent-self-medication and the constant withdrawal associated with it, was awful. I wasn't hungry. I was exhausted yet couldn't sleep.

I'm on the nod again. Oxycodone. I don't know what I'm doing.

Now to what I really want to write down: my dream. This is a recurring dream I've been having since I was "fired." Here goes...

I always enter the dream walking down a street I'm pretty familiar with, but like all dreams not really. In my head it's the street that two of my dealers (one weed so not all negative) live on but not. It's a little different. It's a neighborhood street. There are always people in their front yards talking, grilling out, doing family things together. With me is always my friend Derrick. It's always him for some reason and I haven't even spoken to the guy in something like two years.

About a mile down this road on the left is a smallish ranch style house where I go every time. In it lives a black family: husband, wife, two sons and a daughter. When the dreams began, I was to be babysitting the kids. This never happens, however.

Mainly, there is always a conflict between the father of this family and myself. There is something about this man that is pure EVIL. I can't figure out why I'm dealing with this dream. In fact, last night, I literally fought him. He's the actor from Madea's Family Reunion who hits his wife and bla bla.

I broke his arm last night, in a jiu-jitsu style arm bar. VERY strange feeling to wake up to. What I remember so strongly is the surprise he felt as I physically dominated him. Usually when I'm in a fight in a dream, I can't hit anyone or succeed in fighting. But as I felt his elbow snap along my knee, you could sense how shocked at my strength this man was.

After this, I exit the house and find Derrick and we begin to drag very heavy things (car batteries, etc.) back up the street towards the main thoroughfare. We're walking and running, to save our lives it feels like, and eventually we end up @ the street that enters/exits my old high school.

This area is full of black people driving cars, leaving that school. And all I can keep saying is, "I hate that nigger. I'm gonna kill that nigger." THen someone would notice me and make a hateful face and i'd just mention, "oh, not you. it's somebody else."

that's pretty much it for last night. I'm getting a headache from staring that the screen.

Okay so my first and last trip so far all started with a friend. You know that friend that you feel comfortable with doing this because you've known them for a long time?? Well we were at my grandma's house and we deicde to roll. It was winter and freezing outside and after we take it, we go outside and take a walk, the walk turned into a run and then we hugged in the middle of the street for some reason and then ran into my cusin. We go back to my grandma's and sat around then I say "Dude try making carpet angels, it's fun." We did that and I have never felt as good as than when we rolled. After that we watched Paranormal Activty and got scared then when my cousin left I yelled to him " I love you!!" and "Your the best cousin ever!!" Don't ask why. I had to keep asking him when I could drink something (my friend.) Then when he said I could I chugged a glass of water. And when we first started the roll I thought I was going to die, I forgot why. I forgot what else happend but I will never forget what I remember. The funnest/ stupidest thing I have ever done. But I would do it again.

Sometimes I just don't know who I am
Days change, things change, I change
Each day I wake up I can never be sure
how things will go
I am all over the place
One day I am who I want to be
next day she is who she wants to be
it never is the same

Today is Saturday, July 24, 2010 and it is now 1233AM here in Makati, Luzon, Philippines.

Recap: I was sitting in Butuan Airport on Mindanao waiting to fly back here.

This Entry: My flight actually took off on time which is very rare here, all the more so with one of the world's worst airlines, Cebu Pacific, doing the flying. Even if the airline was punctual, and granted very few ever are, something very cheesy about them trying to sell you trinkets like pens and memo pads along with a can of soda for what amounts, literally, to a day's wage for a working man here.

All that is academic when it comes to their customer service finesse. It is truly maddening and I am someone who flew in the Eastern Bloc in the 80s!

Here in Makati, part of Metro Manila, we have 2 airports, 1 for International, 1 for Domestic. Cebu Pacific has a large counter in the Domestic which is actually 2 buildings, a small terminal and 1 for the counters. If you are flying OUT of the capitol you go to the counter for check-in. Not a problem one would imagine. I am a person who is anal about punctuality. When I have a flight I arrive at a terminal roughly 8 hours before check-in even begins. Cebu-Pacific proves that my habit is intelligent.

For a 10AM Departure, the ticket counter, neigh, the entire building opens at 830AM. At 915 or so, the clerks stop their bullshitting and man their 2 PC terminals. By this time there are literally at least 200 people crowing a 12 meter counter, waving ticket recipts, screaming in a cacophany of languages (including dialects there are well over 100 spoken on 7,107 islands here). You should see the dumbfounded Westerners waiting patiently, imagining a line somehow exists.

Me? I am Israeli hahaha. I push through loudly and menacingly hissing, "Excuse Me" with my gameface on full. I have always gotten through.

Still, that means nothing becayse when I get there I am dealing with absolutely fried clerks. "Sir, this ticket is invalid. Your passport says 'Rachamim Ra'anan Ben Ami' but your ticket says, 'Rachamim Raanan Ben-Ami'."

Rachamim: "Yes love, my language doesn't use Latin letters like English."

ClerkCondescendingly) "Sir, it doesn't have Latin, it is English."

R: "Yes, but English uses Latin letters."

C: "(Disdainfully) Sir, I am an edicated woman. I have a Bachelor's Degree and I know very well the difference between Latin and English!"

*As all this is transpiring the cacophany grows louder, people are pushing harder, this is SE Asia and pickpockets DO operate and above all my plane is set to lift off in 20 minutes!*

Rachamim: "Ma'am, look, is there a Supervisor whom I might speak to?"

Clerk: "Yes sir. He is in our Cebu office, his phone number is...and you may call on Monday because on weekends he is off."

R: "Aaaah...."

*I then palm a 5 US bill, and palming it hold out my hand and offer to "pay the penalty" and tell her not to worry about the receipt.

All works out. People say the Philippines is the most corrupt nation in SE Asia but I can assure you that THAT honour belongs to Cambodia, hands down. When you cross from Thailan, into the country at Poi Pet they actually have professionally made signs on the wall of the Immigration lean-to (actually a lean-to), that tell you that the costs of visas are 10 US higher than they actually are.

I love to read travel websites and see kids talking bullshit about how they forced the officer (only 1 there) to provide the visa at its actual cost (20 for Tourist, 25 for Business though I heard they might have raised them). I smile reading them knowing they are full of shit.

Oh, you CAN argue it down to the correct price but when you get that cute little blue stamp atop the paper visa they glue in on a whole fucken page, it will be the incorrect stamp, bet your bottom Dollar.

Imagine, time to depart, you go back over land and get there with 2 hours before the lean to's combination lock goes back on, and the border will be closed for the next 2 days to celebrate the King's (pick the nation, Cambodia OR Thailand) hemorroid crawling back up his arse or some non-sensical event. You arrive on your snazzy tourist bus. You walk the kilometer through all the fucken hyper-aggresive touts, hauling your 30 pounds of uneccessary shit and that same officer , for the first time in a week cracks a smile. He nods to his 3 touts, the civlians working for the local syndacite, who "help" tourists to fill in the simple applications, included in the extra 10US "fee." They look at you sternly and say, "Solly, diss stamp not good, no-no."

Backpacker: "Well mate, what do I do?"

Tout:"You muss go back Pnohm Penh, get stamp."

BP: "Wait! You gave me the wrong stamp, why do I have to go back?"

T: "Law, you muss go, NOW!"


Ahhhhh, so go ahead smart fuck, save your tenner, brag about it at "Happy Pizza" or the patio at "#9" and then deal with it in fucken Poi Pet, the most depressing city in the region, for about 5 days.

Getting the stamp is possible in PP before heading back, IF you are smart, and it will only cost you 75US, and the 4 US back and forth on the back of a moped to Immigration on Russian Blvd by the airport.

The way I look at it? Yes, 10 IS 5 days pay to a lot of folks there so it DOES represent a nice sum BUT, its being smeared over dozens of hands. That officer pays touts, he pays supervisors, organised crime figures and so on. He is not banking very much of it, maybe half a Dollar per? And what does the 10 represent to you? In PP you pay 3 to 15 US a night for your digs, 5 a day for food, so think rationally, it factors in fine.

Especially when you buy a gramme of solid white #4, uncut for about 5 US per!

Dumb tourists...

Anyway, airports suck, no doubt. I got back to Makati, jumped in a trike out on the street, and came back here. Jackie wanted to come over but I begged off.

Thinking of moving her to a slightly nicer home, men are bothering her there she says. A nice subdivision not to far from where she is, in Barangay Tandag Sora. The new house is 4,000 Pesos a month, currently Im paying 2800 (1000 = about 18 US) so its not really going to mater to me, let her be safe.

Went to Chabad House here, just opened a couple of months ago in Salcedo Village, the district next to mine in Makati. The 1 Jewish Community in this country is crammed into Salcedo. Chabad is a Hebrew acronym that isn't capitalised for some reason, means, "Knowledge, Wisdom, Understanding" and is a programme of the Lubavitcher Chassidim (Hassidic). They try to provide a religious observant environment for Jews abroad and sometimes are the only source for Jewish food in a region (they have it flown in). I go for the food, I dig Ashkenazi food (what they call "Deli" in the US). They also have Mizrachi food, the food we eat in Israel because of so many IDF on walkabout (the gap year after 3 years mandatory service all Jewish men in Israel go through).

Today is Wednesday, July 28, 2010 and it is now 621AM here in Makati, Luzon, Philippines.

Recap: I had been discussing the Philippine Dope Scene, then meandered into a pedantic explanation of the Heroin Numbering System, another true blue American invention.

This Entry: "Mexican Tar Heroin" is usually considered as a class onto itself despite its technically meeting the threshold for #4 Heroin, heroin hcl.

Most people, including, amazingly, many forensic chemists, believe that Tar is manufactured by acetylysing opium. It is not, but before I explain THAT fallacy, I ought to explain acetylysation;

Heroin is merely a vehicle for the delivery of morphine. Most people do not realise this, but heroin, diacetylmorphine, is inactive in the human body! Once heroin is ingested, within 90 seconds your body has converted it to 6-MAM, a substance I will discuss, and then even more quickly to morphine, the substance you actually feel.

How does morphine become heroin? By adding water, a glacial acetic acid and heating, in reflux, the sugars in morphine actetylyse, creating diacetylmorphine, heroin. This change in structure increase lipid solubility so that the substance is able to cross the BBB (Blood to Brain Barrier) 3 times more efficiently than unacetylated morphine. In other words, making morphine into heroin allows morphine to do its job 3 times better than it would untouched.

When morphine crosses the BBB it almost immediately reverts to morphine, so, heroin simply serves as a more efficient way to get the morphine where it needs to go, this is why, most of the time, you are tested for morphine when tested for heroin in your system, etc. You can sometimes be tested for the afore mentioned 6-MAM which is ONLY found after the consumption of heroin, but 6-MAM is out of your body, entirely, within 20 hours of conversion from heroin.

So THAT is acetylysation, and that is why morphine goes through acetylysation.

The belief that Tar is acetylated opium seems like it makes good common sense. After all, heroin IS made from opium, and both have the same black latex appearance and consistency.

The problem though is that it does not make common sense at all. Opium averages a morphine content of 10%, and the highest recorded content in history was a sample with 23%, and that was only one time. So, if opium is used, and is converted directly into heroin, the highest purity Tar Heroin could ever have would be 23% with the vast majority being 10% pure. Tar IS an impure form but still clocks purities in the 80th percentile from time to time.

How can you make 80% pure heroin directly from opium? How does 10% morphine turn into 80% heroin? It can't, and it won't, ever.

The key to Tar is the acetylation process and agent, as well as the omission of 2 of the 4 manufacturing steps.

Step I) With the normal process you take opium and separate morphine from it, then crystallise it, all very crudely. When making Heroin #1 (which as we discussed earlier is not even heroin at all but rather morphine hcl) the extraction is done meticulously, but that is very rare.

Step II) You convert morphine freebase (or hcl in the case of Heroin #1) into heroin acetate, a crude salt.

Step III) Heroin acetate is converted to Heroin freebase, Heroin #2.

Step IV) Heroin freebase is converted to the hydrochloric salt.

Ideally the salt will be purified via 1 or 2 methods (decolourisation via activated charcoal and filtration and/or ether and alcohol treatments) but in today's world,sadly, it often isn't.

With Tar, morphine freebase is extracted from opium. THEN this freebase is acetylysed. Steps II and III are left by the wayside. The acetylysation process though is the real key.

Though any GAA (glacial acetic acid) will acetylyse morphine, using different acids will produce different characters in the finished product. Ideally AA (acetic anhydride is used), but Tar almost always utilises AC (acetyl chloride). While this produces a particular character, I will first look at 2 other aspects that result from this abbreviated process;

Acetylysation is done in reflux. "Reflux," in short, is a tightly controlled environment where mositure and oxegyn are not allowed in and out at will. Not being actual labs, and usually not actually chemists themselves, manufacturers utilise a crude reflux apparattus. Taking a large cooking pot, the powderised morphine freebase (or hcl.), water and GAA is combined. A rubber gasket is lain over the top, and then the lid. To firmly create a seal a c-clamp is used and tightened all the way.

With Tar, AC is used in place of AA, and no gasket or c-clamp are used so that reflux isn't achieved. Additionaly, time isn't optimised so that full acetylysation doesn't take place. While most morphine IS converted to heroin, the less than optimal acetylation produces marked metabolite characterisation. In short, the extra-crude process used in Mexico causes the heroin to have predictable amounts of 6-MAM and another metabolite, 3-MAM (both of which I will discuss shortly).

Substances ingested metabolise, they change in a reaction with the human body. With drugs, sometimes these new substances, or "metabolites," are "active," meaning that they have a marked reaction on body and/or mind...or else they are "inactive," having no discernible effect.

One active metabolite specific to heroin, 6-Monoacetylmorphine (6-MAM), is actually more powerful than heroin. Heroin, as I stated, is merely a delivery vehicle for morphine itself. Heroin is worthless as a drug itself because the acetylation which allows much greater pentration of the Blood to Brain Barrier also prevents the diacetylmorphine (heroin) from getting hold of the relevant binder. This is why everything you, or someone else feels when using heroin is related to the morphine carried with THAT heroin.

This failure to bind cannot be mitigated but let us imagine there was a way. We would still have a 2nd insurmountable hurdle to deal with in that heroin's half life is a mere 90 seconds. "Half Life" is the avg.time it takes a substance to leave a human body.

Ergo, if heroin's half life is 90 seconds, heroin is gone within 3 minutes of consuming it.

6-MAM, as I said specific to heroin (not found in morphine, duh), is created naturally in degradation, and itself degrades very quickly as well. Other than that natural degradation creating it, it is also created via a process called "Hydrolysis." Hydrolysis takes place when a substance, susceptible to the dynamic, comes into contact with moisture...Conversely, if acetylysation takes place without benefit of reflux the requsite moisture is burned off/evaporates. This will give you less 6-MAM than heroin produced in reflux.

This leaves Tar with an anabnormally low percentage of 6-MAM, always.

On the other hand, Tar will always have abnormally high 3-MAM content. This is due from insufficient acetylysation. The use os acetyl chloride, insufficient time and temperature prevents a total conversion of morphine to diacetylmorphine (heroin).

Reflux also plays a part here but by adjusting time and temprature upwards the deficiencies caused by acetyl chloride can be overcome. Sadly, Mexican producers just do not get the point. By now the process is so well entrenched that I suspect Tar is here to stay, unfortunately.

"Homebake" is produced sans reflux, with different GAAs but the only REAL difference there is that O-demethylation is sometimes used to net morphine from a codeine precursor.

In addition, when Dicodin used to be used as a precursor the end product would be red or pink tar, but those rare times that Homebake still appears one sees only brown and black tar, since Dicodin is extinct.

I will continue...

(Edited for spelling)

Sitting on the back yard patio listening to ambient-radio.de streaming "chromanova FM ambient and chillout."
Today was one of the first hot days of the year. got up into the low 90s.
The falcon is tethered to its post across the yard from where I sit with my laptop. It keeps looki0ng at me. It just made a baby-bird squack and spread its wings.

Sat night: Drank a coule of glasses of grapefruite juice, then ate some capsules of kratom extract. Unless it is put into capsules, the taste is too bitter to bear. Makes me want to vomit.After about 1 hour, I started to get an actual nod off it.This lasted a couple of hours. The whole time, had some dream sequences that were opiate-like in their vividness and abruptness, I cat really remember. Flashes of real-world imagery. Often of poeple I didn't recognize doing mundane things. Some nature scenes. One was of a beach that ran along high cliffs like those at Marin Headlands.Itchy the whole tiem.
I went for a bike ride today and came back to a bad scene. My gf met me as soon as I walked in the door.

gf: So Socko, I found some lingerie in your stuff this afternoon.

socko: !!
socko: What did you find?
gf: Panties!
Socko: I don't have any panties.
gf: They're Psycho Suzie's (Psycho Suzie was my last gf) arent' they! Why are you saving HER panties?
socko: Where were they?
gf: In one of your boxes of tools by the cat litter. Theyr'e HERS!
socko: They are not. I know what you found. Calm down.
gf Why do you still have your X's panties?
socko: Theyre not hers.
GF: WHAT?!

socko:What you found was an old rag in one of my crates of tools. It was being used as a tie-down to hold together a box of socket fittings. (I had gotten them from a box of miscellanious rags that the previous tenants had left in the basment. I was using rags from that box mostly for cleaning the grease off my bicycle chain, cleaning the toilet, etc... The rag in question was about the right size to use to tie a small socket box shut.]]
GF: BLAH BLAH BLAH!@!!@!@ BLAH BLAH BLAH!@!!@!@BLAH BLAH BLAH!@!!@!@They're Psycho Suzie's and you've been keeping them!@
socko: Wrong. If you dont' believe me, look at the size of them. THey are way too big, like size 4 or something. Psycho Suzie was wore size 2, I think.
gf: BWAHHH! [at this point she burst into tears] I'm fat, am I? I wish I could wear a size 4.


It's been a few hours, and she's still mad at me. I'll be sleeping in the back yard tonight. She wont' even let me sleep i nthe basement this time.

So me and my ex girlfriend and this hella cute girl ive liked for quite some time, had a 3 some while we were doing this i was taking large amounts of GBL because i couldnt feel the effects.

i went through 3/4's of a 1oz bottle.

We were done.. started to feel it.. drove her to her house next apartment complex, and then i passed out in the car.


Next thing i know is theirs people screaming and yelling im trying to back up there ambulances firetrucks cops the works... im like FUCK i know this is a red zone but shit.

They pulled me out asked what i was on.. i said nothing im fine..while falling out.. that went on for 20 minutes they asked where the needle was, which there was a HUGE FUCKING SYRINGE in my car from my friend who left it there.

They hand cuffed me found the GBL my friends said it was massage oil they gave it back i went to the hospital and woke up with needles in my arms and all kinds of shit...Shitty day with GBL 5 months ago.




P.S. I had a Under the influence citation when i woke up, went to court, Name wasn't on the list. They couldn't Find shit in my blood or piss. The DA said they were waiting for the Drug test results still.

She generally gave herself very good advice, (though she very seldom followed it), and sometimes she scolded herself so severely as to bring tears into her eyes; and once she remembered trying to box her own ears for having cheated herself in a game of croquet she was playing against herself, for this curious child was very fond of pretending to be two people. `But it's no use now,' thought poor Alice, `to pretend to be two people! Why, there's hardly enough of me left to make one respectable person!'

CATERPILLAR: Who are you? ALICE:Why, I hardly know, sir. I've changed so much since this morning, you see...
CATERPILLAR: No, I do not C, explain yourself.
ALICE: I'm afraid I can't explain myself, you see, because I'm not myself, you know.
CATERPILLAR: I do not know.
ALICE: I can't put it any more clearly, sir, because it isn't clear to me.


Going through this psychological withdrawal is certainly leaving me feelings very much like Alice in Wonderland. I hope it will end soon!

(doesn't belong in the lounge, guess I'll store it here cause I see it being deleted soon heh)

I've been in this Facebook war with someone I grew up with for a few days now. It's been so epically pointless you have no idea lol It's gone from fate to religion to drugs. And when it got to drugs and drug research I got HEATED So I thought I'd share and this seemed like the right place =p

Here's just the last couple back-and-forths about drugs. To catch you up, the girl decided to tell me to get a job and try going to school, to which I responded (and I'm paraphrasing here) Bitch- I'm double majoring to be on the cutting edge of reemerging research fields so I can HELP PEOPLE, wtf do you do, work in a call center? (Lucky guess!) Ended up getting into a debate and she took up the 'all drugs are bad and if you do them your bad nothing good can come from drugs' blah blah blah stance. And I tried getting her to look at the MAPS page just as a start.. no luck 'drugs are bad mmmkay'... Keep in mind I was never trying to defend recreational use or anything like that, just their inherent medical / psychiatric values.

-> ok, now in steps douche nozzle boy friend who (WHOOPS!) also works in a call center lol I'm just coping from then on:


Douche Nozzle- I work in a call center and I make damn good money because I'm good at what I do. The difference is that I passed a drug screening and background check which some people don't have privilege to say.


DragynFyr- way to make the world a better place?

Douche Nozzle- Hmmm. Not sure how a statement can be a question all at the same time. On the other hand, the world would be a better place if people didn't find excuses left and right to use and abuse drugs and thinks that society accepts them.



DragynFyr- Guess what, the 'society' that shunned 'drugs' for racist baseless reasons is dying off and all the modern world is (re)accepting their positive benefits. (Humans have used them spiritually for 10's of thousands of years don't forget.)

MAPS.ORG ! Thumb through that for a second and see what the DEA and FDA are accepting as facts.

The world would be a better place if close minded ignorant folk would pick up a book about drugs that was printed by someone other than their DARE officer in the sixth grade before they formed an opinion on something they frankly seem to know -dick- about.

Drug USE and ABUSE are two very different things mind you

And the question mark was added because I didn't know if you were trying to feel special about yourself because you could pass a drug test, as if that makes you better than someone who chooses to expand their consciousness rather than deaden it with the 'societal standard' alcohol.

And any responsible user would easily pass a background test. Lets face it, all drug testing does is keep marijuana users out of some positions, you could be working side by side with plenty of crack heads who would only need to put down their pipe for 1-3 days to pass a drug test, where your typical MJ user requires 30-45 days... Just don't think it makes ya all that special is all =) Crack heads can do it too.


Douche Nozzle- Why are you defending crackheads? They ABUSE drugs. Society will always look down upon drug users. Further more, my hard earned money gets taxed so that the drug users can take advantage of welfare and get a free ride. I don't need a chemical to make me feel good. I make the right choices and have loving friends and family who I have a good time with.
And you're right- crackheads can pass drug tests, but they don't last at jobs. And then they go on welfare/unemployment because they choose to lower themselves, society won't accept that! I hate having to support scum. How do you feel that 90% of your taxes (if you have a job) are taken to support people like *Douche Nozzles Girl*'s sister, *****, who does NOTHING to better themselves?

DragynFyr- Where did I defend crack heads? I simply said a crack head could easily impersonate a person like yourself and passing a drug test was not something to feel special about.

Society will not always look down upon 'drug users' (a term simply dripping with ignorance btw). Have you read a news paper in the last year? Does "California" ring a bell? That is the tip of the iceberg, the whole country is going to follow suit. Take a brief minute to put down the bible and study shamanism and indigenous cultures use of ethnogenic substances throughout the entire history of man kind. If you believe in a GOD then you must believe he placed every plant here for a reason. Certain PLANTS - let me be real slow here,- I'm not supporting empty useless drugs like crack- certain PLANTS have very useful characteristics- whether you've been too brainwashed into fear to admit it or not.
Again, there is a huge difference between drug users and abusers.. but your DARE acquired fear doesn't let you see that fact..

You know who else has money going to the tax man? People who do more than pick up a phone for a living and do more than mindlessly back up the DEAD thought process of the past. Scientists, Doctors, THINKERS. They all pay into the same pool you use to some how back up your point.

Go watch some Glen Beck dude, you're a waste of time and intelligence if you can be so blind to the developing world around you. The fact you STILL can have resources given to you to actually LEARN something, yet sit there laying down blanket terms like 'drug users' and just bail out on some sad 'they're taking my tax money' excuse is so pathetic.

I bet there are a whole lot more degrees being offered now in the name of studying the benefits of 'illicit' drugs than there are for advancing picking up phone technology. I'm done here.

And hey, asshole, this ignorant shit right here-> "I don't need a chemical to make me feel good. I make the right choices and have loving friends and family who I have a good time with."

~On behalf of every rape victim, every US veteran that had their mind destroyed by a road side bomb: And later had their life completely RESTORED with the help of evil 'drugs' like 'ecstasy' in therapy sessions FULLY APPROVED by the DEA and FDA-
**FUCK! YOU!**

You have a lot to learn dude. But you won't- I WILL- I'm the one in school, so how bout STFU or pick up a book too because you have ZERO clue what you're talking about

DragynFyr-
‎....I just read that over n I'm gonna drop an apology now, very touchy subject for me. I'm double majoring because I believe in these things and I am NOT in short supply of like minded company. Very progressive intelligent doctoral company...... -we are right... and humans have known it for eons..- Sorry for being so passionate about this, but your girl will tell you, I don't often put a lot of heart into anything unless it really matters, and this particular subject truly has the ability to help mankind as a whole, and the biggest thing holding its progress back is the negative set-in-stone mentality of the past that you guys have exhibited here.

No hard feelings meant, but honestly, please take a look at the current research- 'crack, meth, (for the most part) heroin' these are 'empty drugs'.. empathogens, ethnogens... There are different types of drugs but some of them have a LOT of potential to help people... Myself and a whole lot of people who have seen the good things that they can do get a little riled up when they see them being put down with old school ignorance. I believed DARE too once.. Everyone in American grade school did. But sooner or later, you see someone really hurting find help in what they told you would hurt you, and you never forget it. I was personally dying of anorexia and owe my life past age 20 to MDMA all because it let me look in the mirror and really see ME and not the messed up fat-filter I lived with.. I was dying and wasting away, but couldn't see it without some help.. I'll say that openly despite 'society looking down on a drug user' because it's true and I owe my life to it. Some things that we were raised to believe were nothing but bad for us can honestly save our lives when used properly..

There is no money in a cure. And the types of 'drugs' we were raised to believe are bad for us are the kinds of drugs that can 'cure' us of ailments in a single use. Pharmaceutical companies don't make money off single use cures... When you're done with MAPS, swing by phoenixtears.ca if you want to know how to honest to god cure you and your loved ones of any type of cancer. NOT A JOKE. You should repost that link and ask everyone else to do it to- it WORKS. There are many published scientific papers proving that various types of cancers are killed by cannabanoids, but this guy Rick Simpson has cured 100's of people of every kind of cancer imaginable with over a 90% cure rate by feeding them concentrates orally - THAT ISNT A FAKE NUMBER.. There's is so much going on you don't know about because it doesn't get the media coverage it deserves..

Alright with that I'm done, if you wanna talk to me about this more take it to PM's. You have to realize this is nothing new, the only 'new' thing is western day-by-day medicine.. There are God given cures all around


SomeRandomLady- alright everyone...break it up and go home...there is nothing to be gained here.


DragynFyr- ‎^that's the thing, there IS something to be gained =-)

Today is Sunday, July 25, 2010 and it is now 819PM here in Makati, Luzon, Philippines.

Recap: Talking about the wonderful airline "Cebu Pacific" and its aneurysm inducing niceties, etc. and so on.

This Entry: Monsoon is my favourite time of year. Most East Asians hate it. In the tropics, like here, it varies place to place. Mindanao for example, I am centered in Caraga, what they call "NE Mindanao," or "Bisaya Mindanao." We are mountains and rainforest, deep bush country and get decent rains. On the west coast, on the Zamboangan Peninsula they get in terms of inches, I think 120 inches in Monsoon, wettest spot on the island.

Luzon though? Man I haven't seen water like this since India!

Indian Monsoon is fucken amazing! For about 2 hours a day, same time very day, the 100F with 90% humidity is broken by what appears to be a sheet of water pouring out of a black sky. Then, as if on cue, it stops and the sun comes out and in 30 minutes the ground can look parched.

Luzon is smack in the typhoon belt. Typhoons are basically "Katrina" type hurricanes (Americans know the phrase well), about 10 in a 5 month season. The streets flood, everything gets nasty, dead dogs floating by...well...you get the idea.

Yesterday though, Mindanao had another 1 of those earthquakes I have been talking about. This one was a bit bigger than usual, 6.9. Think about that number and then imagine a place where it rates a single sentence on the wire because it is just that common. This is THAT place. It was centered 60km off the West Central coast and didn't cause a tsunami luckily though they usually occur across the ocean from the event, 2 days later, etc.

Usual bullshit...I used to frequent ex pat forums, figured being the old hand in SE Asia that I am I would offer good advice. I was suprised though at what I found.

For example, 1 American guy was thinking of coming for a visit. Mindanao is on the "Do Not Travel" list of just about every Western embassy, and for decent reasons, so he was full of trepidation. "Is it safe?"

I replied that it depends on the part but that life on Mindanao is the razour's edge. Be prepared for the unexpected, regardless. Do get traveller's insurance in case you need to be medivaced out (decent advice for any locale since it runs at least 10K US in calm nations like Thailand, and usually 50K). Don't travel to Muslim areas, do not befriend locals, including love interests and their families until long after you meet them. Dress down, don't drink local water, etc, etc.

So a day later comes this American who said he lived in Iligan City. That's a rather large, majority Bisayan city on the North Coast. He said Mindanao is perfectly safe, he's never had a problem, embassies are full of shit, Rachamim is trying to scare people and is an asshole.

I replied and asked him how long he's lived there. Less than 3 months he said, I laughed at him. I told him he hadn't even been here long enough to see Iligan, let alone Mindanao and told him he ought to research shit himself and see if he still felt the same way. To make it short, this just caused him to curse and insult.

2 days later 7 bombs went off in Iligan and 2 Base Commands of the MILF actually invaded the city killing Christians. "Welcome to My World." That was August, 2008 I believe.

So, Friday 7 grenades tossed in Iligan and I was reminded of that dickhead. Lots of people are like that.

The Japanese man I began talking about...might as well wrap that one up. Letter to the govt.surfaced, seems he is alive, but they won't say what the ransom demand is. If and when he is released I can't wait to see what happens with his immigration status, having 2 IDs and all that. I thinkbany foreigner even hanging out in Muslim areas here is a dickhead.

In 2001 there was a half black, half white convert yo Islam, Jeffrey Schilling from San Diego, California. He came here for his internet girlfriend (another clusterfuck of a subject), and when he found out she had a cousin in the Abu Sayyaf (think Filipino al Qadah) he wanted to meet them. The story he told AFTER was that he wanted to explain how they were going against Allah by chopping off Christian heads.

He and his GF walk into an Abu Sayyaf Camp and within minutes he's chained to a wall and they fuck his GF (niiiice). She ends up the "wife" of an Abu Sayyaf guerilla and as he's chained he gets to see their connubial bliss hahahahahahaha.

Months later, 7 months I think, they haul ass during an army offencive and leave our Jeffrey chained on his wall. He had grown so thin from malnutrition and disease that he was able to simply slip out of his manacles and walk out and meet the soldiers entering the village. Lucky they didn't kill his retarded ass as they have done with other hostages they have "freed."

They do that a lot, fuck women they capture and make them "wives." Islam allows this actually so they are correct in terms of their religion.

So the Japanese man has a fun few months, or years, in store. What I find maddening is when Westerners take a ship down to Sulu or Basilan, take some photos at landmarks as a form of adventure tourism.

Reading a travel blog once, this ponytailed American took the ferry from mainland Malaysia to Zamboanga, and got off on Basilan. Basilan is an island off of Zamboanga, and is part of Mindanao administratively.

Its native tribe are the Yakan, an Islamicised People, the tribe that founded Abu Sayaf and it is where most beheadings take place, every month they kill non-Muslims. I could fill up a couple of entries just from shit since March.

Anyway, he bragged that he got off in Basilan, in its capitol, Isabela City. He tols everyone that everyone smiled and he couldn't understand why people said to beware of Basilan. I was thinking, "Yes my precious dickhead, would you not smile if you saw a pile of 100 Dollar Bills with a ponytail wandering around aimlessly?"

Instead I wrote, "I am glad you had a good trip and mangaged to arrive in your destination unscathed but what you are doing is incredibly irresponsible. You, as you say had an armed escort provided by the Governor (who was Abu Sayyaf himself, a co-founder actually, Gov Wahad Akbar, who was blown up by a massive bomb when he left Congress in Manila after moving into the Congressional seat for the island after reaching his 9 year Term Limit as governor) of the island who because you are white, was instantly aware that you had stepped off that ferry...just like the thousands of Abu Sayyaf terrorists who also live there were aware.

That you were not attacked is purely a question of luck, even with the 20 well armed soldiers walking you around the capitol for 2 hours.

What about the person in Washington State, or London who reads this and scoffs at the risks? What if its a bad day, or the Gov.is in Manila that day? What if they attack the soldiers? You are minimising the risk and that is ignorant."

He chose not to publish my comment hahahah. That was the last time I ever wasted my time to tell someone words of caution.

I was young once...really...I'm serious! I did my stupid shit. Once, OK...I was on my walkabout, my gap year, though mine came after 6 years service, not 3 as with most. We went to Thailand which at that time, 1989, was where most IDF soldiers went (today their stupid asses go to fucken Peru and Boliva).

There was a few of us, all squadmates and we went and rented a house in the far north. We went and explored the whole region and I had my 1st visit to Cambodia, when Pol Pot was still a force to be reckoned with and Poi Pet was just a muddy tent strewn camp.

After a bit a local we had befriended, a hill tribesmen, convinced me and 1 mate to join him as he trekked to his village up in Burma, near the Yunnan (China) border.

Back in those days China was mostly closed. You could go to Beijing, Shanghai, and a couple of other locales but Yunnan? Hahahaha...

Burma, that part was home to more than 21 separate insurgent armies, most involved with opium and heroin. Burma was also closed.

We crossed the river from Thailand into Burma on a lorry innertube attached to a hemp rope. We then trekked up the hills on foot, spending a night each way in a hill tribe village, of course getting hammered on opium and back then I drank, so palm wine and rice liquor as well.

In the end I crossed into Yunnan, skirted the main border city, and then trekked back into Thailand and for what? We would have been shot on site in China and in most of Burma as well, even by Thai's 5th Army, no slouches, who worked that river border.

Yet, as one gets older such recklessness seems so stupid, so wasteful. Its true that I had 6 straight years in combat then, and was just 22 but...it was insane.

5 cups of coffee today. gf made me 2, the last 3 at coffee shop on way to school.

Dream this morning: I was standing on a high hill, and I looked out across several miles of primordial jungle at a mountain that rose out of the distant mist. The entrance to the jungle was a low small wicket gate entwined by green ivy bearing shiny orange fruit similar in shape to carrots. There was a shaman who lived as a hermit in the forest on the mountain. His name was Paluma (note to self: google "paluma"). GF and I were told he could cure us (of some unknown condition). Upon enter the jungel, we had to call his name so 1) the tribe he was revered by wouldnt' attack us, 2) hopefully he would make himslef visible. Crawled though the gate and entered the forest and made our way toward the mountain. The fact that there was no trail and that the vegetation was dense made navigation difficult. We progressed in the direction we thought we had seen the mountain.


Later inthe dream, looking at a wrod list for Paluma's or the tribes language (transliterated into the Latin letters). memory of this is fuzzy. Odd words or proper nouns like "Paluma," galumamaco, galumamaho, galuma. Not only ismy memory fuzzy, but hte letters kept rearranging themselves on the page. I grew frustrated and quit trying to learn their language.

On my bike ride home from work today, I noticed my chain clicking. I pulled off the road into a pullout at a park. A tiny white rabbit scampered under a shed. The rabbit was shaggy, had floppy ears that hung down, and had a pug nose. I bent down and looked under the shed adn called the rabbit for a moment. It actually came out and hopped up to me. Before I could catch it, it shied back under the shed. Obviously somebody's former pet. I called it some more and it came out a couple more tiems, but each time, it was too quick to catch. With all the dogs running loose, coyotes, and even cats ,this little bunny doens't have a chance. Easter is over. (Baby rabbits are often given to children as gifts for the Easter holidya in the US.) After trying for a couple of minutes, I thought that if I could get under the shed, I mihgt catch the bunny. So I lifted it (300 - 400#) and deftly put a log under it with my foot to hold it up on its back edge. I crawled underneath but couldnt find the rabbit at this point. I gave up after several minutes, removed the log and set the shed back down on its foundation, and continued home, stopping once at a "head shop" to bought some Kratom.

Eloise cat greeted me with several happy chirps wehn I came hoem today. Now she is sitting on the tiki bar beside my laptop at which I type and drink a pint of ale. She is doing much better, but limps. hope the limp will not be permanent. Her energy level is nearly normal. For a while after the injury, the other cat, a fat white and orange tabby named Fig, was bossing her - chasing her from a favorite chair, the yoga mat, and the other "top (alpha) cat spots." This was unusual since Fig has always been the beta cat. But after the injury, she has been palying the dominant alpha role.

These were indoor/outdoor cats. Not pampered indoor pets. Unfortunately an no longer let the cats go outside unatt3ended. Thought this neighborhood was free of viscious dogs. Why is it that viscious dogs run loose here? Children, cats, not to mention dogs shitting in yards and digging up my compost pile and gettign into the garbage. With a bell to warn birds, cats are harmless.

What animal did it? Here's the list of suspects:

Next door neighbor's falcon: Ruled out. The wounds line up with a medium sized jaw. Not a beak or talons.
Coyote? A few months ago, a coyote came into the back yard, and upon seeing him, Eloise arched her back, raised her tail, and charged, half sideways and hair-on-end, growling and snorting with rage. The coyote fled with his tail between his legs! It happened so fast, I didnt' have time to grab a stick and chase him away. That combined with what the vet said (cat will not survive a coyote attack) can rule out coyotes.
Next door neighbor's dog Rowsby? I don't trust him. He watches the cats, sometimes pretending not to, but always watching out of the corner of his eye. One time he chased them.
Other neighbors' dogs? Plenty of them running loose. So maybe. Cant rule them out.