When I was a kid summer vacation felt like paradise forever each time it was a week away from approaching. Hell as a kid 10 years and under, a fricken hour seemed like a long, slow eternal death sentence each time I was punished for rough housing and pissing off one adult authority or another, & experiencing this feeling of extreme dread the couple times I was handed down this "death sentence" hearing, "TJ! WHILE THE REST OF THE CLASS DOES ARTS & CRAFTS, YOU ARE TO STAND IN THE CORNER FOR 1 HR. DO NOT FACE ANYWHERE BUT THE CORNER, YOU MAY NOT LEAVE, YOU MAY NOT SPEAK TO ANYONE STARTING NOW. IF YOU TALK, TURN AROUND, OR LOOK ANYWHERE OTHER THAN THE CORNER, I WILL WRITE A PROGRESS LETTER THAT MUST BE TAKEN HOME, RETURNED TOMORROW WITH YOUR PARENT'S SIGNATURES!"
First grade at Sierra Vista Elementary School in 1971. My teacher's name was Mrs. Potts. Like all Tarantinos, courtesy of Tony the pony, and I say that phrase without bitterness whatsoever, merely an expression of my wrapped, twisted sense of humour Tony, no doubt would interpret as disrespectful and offensive---if he were still talking, emailing, or having any sort of "relationship" with his biological daughter, yours truly, which hasn't been the case since 1998, I believe. The last communication I can recall at this time had been via phone call---the day I'd officially been given the boot by the 4 women, a fellowette coworker who had also been a live in employee for some 10 odd years in a detatched room off the house. Then there were these 2 old, 80 something year old lady sisters, 1 tolerable, the other incontinent & dependent on whoever had been her assigned (limey-dego) nigger of the week for diaper change, mobility, or whatever was needed in the middle of the night---and day.
Perhaps you might be suspecting who this aryan-whop piss girl slave is? If you guessed Madonna or Rosanne Arnold, you're close, except Rosanne is thinner than I am and Madonna is way more shy and materialistic than the wild woman they had had for 4 whole days! (Probably the record breaking quickest sap to get the boot) Give up? Ha ha. Brace yourself for a shock, dear blog reader of "TweaxStay" aka TJ---that "aid" had been booted from even white slavery gig I had goin on for an entire 4 daze & nights, & yes, although they knew something had been off about yours truly--guilty as hell on that count, I admit. Showing up at 7pm TST my first day (TST=Tweaker Standard Time) at what should have been 10am + the fact I had seen nothing wrong with wearing a sari, a genuine dress, head covering from India given to me by a lady from India, which my Mom later told me had scared the old ladies LMAO.
Gotta laugh at my stupid ass mistakes. Back then I thought as long as I don't show up dressed like a slut or donning trampware, fully covered, which I was then what possible objection or problem could anyone have with that? Tweaker logic may be tolerated by my then tweaker friends/community, however it didn't quite sink in back then that those that are not on planet TweaxStay don't remotely see eye to eye as rules on grounded Normiville, are outright bizarre at best and no doubt a serious nut case at worst. These behaviors of the Meth Head Zone and it's peculiar insanities or if rich eccentricities, were what would one day get me flagged by those in the cop culture as a dope fiend at age 41 and busted.
I digressed completely, a common occurance when on painkillers, just enough for a pleasant buzz, lol. I had been totally at fault and realized what an idiot I had been not to see that not conforming enough to blend when stepping outside my chemically induced jail, my preference over the outside & had I the means to not have to leave, I wouldn't. I'd just stay chemically happy inside as much as possible & content to be limited to no more than a half a teener a week of tweak and the 120 pain pills a month I get and have been satisfied with. Anyway, my fault big time for alot of that 4 days--but also not 100% guilty, in they were very selfish, demanding, boring old bitches, which is why no doubt my coworker had told me I had been replacement #10 since the prior live in that had lasted a few years but going to RN school. I had made a long distance phone call to Tony my last day, spoke to him on the phone 2 hours and he asked if I was going to get in trouble for talking so long. "What are they going to do," I asked, "fire me?" He chuckled. "I see your point."
First grade at Sierra Vista Elementary School in 1971. My teacher's name was Mrs. Potts. Like all Tarantinos, courtesy of Tony the pony, and I say that phrase without bitterness whatsoever, merely an expression of my wrapped, twisted sense of humour Tony, no doubt would interpret as disrespectful and offensive---if he were still talking, emailing, or having any sort of "relationship" with his biological daughter, yours truly, which hasn't been the case since 1998, I believe. The last communication I can recall at this time had been via phone call---the day I'd officially been given the boot by the 4 women, a fellowette coworker who had also been a live in employee for some 10 odd years in a detatched room off the house. Then there were these 2 old, 80 something year old lady sisters, 1 tolerable, the other incontinent & dependent on whoever had been her assigned (limey-dego) nigger of the week for diaper change, mobility, or whatever was needed in the middle of the night---and day.
Perhaps you might be suspecting who this aryan-whop piss girl slave is? If you guessed Madonna or Rosanne Arnold, you're close, except Rosanne is thinner than I am and Madonna is way more shy and materialistic than the wild woman they had had for 4 whole days! (Probably the record breaking quickest sap to get the boot) Give up? Ha ha. Brace yourself for a shock, dear blog reader of "TweaxStay" aka TJ---that "aid" had been booted from even white slavery gig I had goin on for an entire 4 daze & nights, & yes, although they knew something had been off about yours truly--guilty as hell on that count, I admit. Showing up at 7pm TST my first day (TST=Tweaker Standard Time) at what should have been 10am + the fact I had seen nothing wrong with wearing a sari, a genuine dress, head covering from India given to me by a lady from India, which my Mom later told me had scared the old ladies LMAO.
Gotta laugh at my stupid ass mistakes. Back then I thought as long as I don't show up dressed like a slut or donning trampware, fully covered, which I was then what possible objection or problem could anyone have with that? Tweaker logic may be tolerated by my then tweaker friends/community, however it didn't quite sink in back then that those that are not on planet TweaxStay don't remotely see eye to eye as rules on grounded Normiville, are outright bizarre at best and no doubt a serious nut case at worst. These behaviors of the Meth Head Zone and it's peculiar insanities or if rich eccentricities, were what would one day get me flagged by those in the cop culture as a dope fiend at age 41 and busted.
I digressed completely, a common occurance when on painkillers, just enough for a pleasant buzz, lol. I had been totally at fault and realized what an idiot I had been not to see that not conforming enough to blend when stepping outside my chemically induced jail, my preference over the outside & had I the means to not have to leave, I wouldn't. I'd just stay chemically happy inside as much as possible & content to be limited to no more than a half a teener a week of tweak and the 120 pain pills a month I get and have been satisfied with. Anyway, my fault big time for alot of that 4 days--but also not 100% guilty, in they were very selfish, demanding, boring old bitches, which is why no doubt my coworker had told me I had been replacement #10 since the prior live in that had lasted a few years but going to RN school. I had made a long distance phone call to Tony my last day, spoke to him on the phone 2 hours and he asked if I was going to get in trouble for talking so long. "What are they going to do," I asked, "fire me?" He chuckled. "I see your point."