Yahoo has been a giant pain in the ass lately with its "blog" issues. I put up a post and it comes up blank or with a pic and no writing. Doin the full time work gig, I don't have forever to be dickin around with this, plus I have a slow ass computer again. I took 3 fiorinal #3's today so I didn't feel high, but I didn't feel like shit. Tomorrow I'm going to see how well I do on 2 pills. I had a shitload I wrote out at work by hand, but hell I just don't have the time on a work night to write all this crap out. That's one reason why I love speed so much, although I was offered some pot and speed tonight at the local drug den, but I turned them down. It's like, "No thanks dudes, I have to be at work tomorrow afternoon. I don't want to be all sore and tired running around after an austistic kid."
Pot, especially the pot these days is just too damn much for me. It's 10 times stronger than back in the day when I was smokin, the 90's. Then as far as driving, forget about it, I get all paranoid. I hate driving under the influence, except for maybe a VERY mild one I get from a couple of PK's. I had gone over to give Cody his late Bday card, but Aimee came running out all in a panic, sad and whiny sick. "They busted the main connections in LA. There's no more heroin! I don't know what the fuck I'm gonna do! Do you think we can borrow some money?" Sigh. Christ. These junkies are the nicest people in the world, but I swear to Christ, they'd have my whole income easily if I let them. I know I got conned, but I gave them a $20, so they offered to hook me up with this friend of theirs that smokes them out with speed.
"Uh uh," I said. "Tonight's not a good time. Get me a bag for later." "Sure," they said. "Come back tomorrow night," though I'm not holding my breath. I love Aimee and all and we actually did have a great time talking for a couple hours, but in order to survive I have to severely limit how often I go over there. Either that, or be sure to only have a couple bucks in my pocket. I know what it feels like to be broke and dope sick, but at the same time, I have to be Mrs. Mean Guy occasionally, or else that's exactly how I will end up. Fortunately for me, so far this is just a mild PK habit to kick that I did on purpose to ditch the tramadol some 10 days ago, because that stuff was 10 times worse the kick than this ever was. I got lots more news, about sex, drugs, and romance, but not tonight. I've got to go.
Aimee did say that yeah for sure she would take the Ibogaine if Erik ever sent it. Not mind you that I'd have money to pay for her detox. Hell I should come up with the money for my own. I need a couple grams, then have them ship it to Erik's place so he could ship to me. Maybe that won't even be necessary. I hope not. I was telling Aimee tonight that it's nice not to have to be a slave to as bad a habit as she's got, but at the same time, I so miss the writing and creativity that Mr. Prick lets me have, not to mention the figure. I'm staying away from speed for now though. This other guy online agreed with me that I don't write so well sober, not like I did loaded. He suggested that I try promoting my stuff to Europe telling them I'm Quentin's sister. I have the proof, but the main proof is in the writing. Like he said I should go over all the old stuff, there's a lot there. I'm off to bed.
Pot, especially the pot these days is just too damn much for me. It's 10 times stronger than back in the day when I was smokin, the 90's. Then as far as driving, forget about it, I get all paranoid. I hate driving under the influence, except for maybe a VERY mild one I get from a couple of PK's. I had gone over to give Cody his late Bday card, but Aimee came running out all in a panic, sad and whiny sick. "They busted the main connections in LA. There's no more heroin! I don't know what the fuck I'm gonna do! Do you think we can borrow some money?" Sigh. Christ. These junkies are the nicest people in the world, but I swear to Christ, they'd have my whole income easily if I let them. I know I got conned, but I gave them a $20, so they offered to hook me up with this friend of theirs that smokes them out with speed.
"Uh uh," I said. "Tonight's not a good time. Get me a bag for later." "Sure," they said. "Come back tomorrow night," though I'm not holding my breath. I love Aimee and all and we actually did have a great time talking for a couple hours, but in order to survive I have to severely limit how often I go over there. Either that, or be sure to only have a couple bucks in my pocket. I know what it feels like to be broke and dope sick, but at the same time, I have to be Mrs. Mean Guy occasionally, or else that's exactly how I will end up. Fortunately for me, so far this is just a mild PK habit to kick that I did on purpose to ditch the tramadol some 10 days ago, because that stuff was 10 times worse the kick than this ever was. I got lots more news, about sex, drugs, and romance, but not tonight. I've got to go.
Aimee did say that yeah for sure she would take the Ibogaine if Erik ever sent it. Not mind you that I'd have money to pay for her detox. Hell I should come up with the money for my own. I need a couple grams, then have them ship it to Erik's place so he could ship to me. Maybe that won't even be necessary. I hope not. I was telling Aimee tonight that it's nice not to have to be a slave to as bad a habit as she's got, but at the same time, I so miss the writing and creativity that Mr. Prick lets me have, not to mention the figure. I'm staying away from speed for now though. This other guy online agreed with me that I don't write so well sober, not like I did loaded. He suggested that I try promoting my stuff to Europe telling them I'm Quentin's sister. I have the proof, but the main proof is in the writing. Like he said I should go over all the old stuff, there's a lot there. I'm off to bed.