skid row journal reeelapse death pool champ

[featherboa]

Hi scunfucker
I don't think we ever met at a show, but I hope things turn out OK for you. Even if your just a person I've been vaguely aware of on the internet for a handful of years.

What do you think about some of the projects people are doing in/around skid row? Like pick one and explain how it's shitty or amazing or whatever. Who are your favorite people to deal with?

[Kurt Russell's Beard]

Scumfucker, can you play an instrument?

It would be amazing if you formed a crossover thrash party band made up of gang members and drug dealers. And of course you'd have to have some rap parts but so what? You guys would destroy the ghetto Suicidal Tendencies-style.

[soiled depends]

someone else needs to be the money guy in that band....

[Kurt Russell's Beard]

Oof, you're right. Bah. There's no getting around the theft of it. The money guy will probably be the top guy in the local gang no matter what. Scumfucker and Co. play not for the money, but to tear shit up (and the free drugs). Get enough out of it for an eventual documentary.

[Scumfucker]

95% of the voices are gone. 100% of the voices I was talking to are gone.

so.... serious question. what voices are you ignoring right now?

None right now but in times of great stress I start tripping and hearing voices. These are not hallucinations that originate in my brain but a hearing processing distortion. If I hear muffled voices that should be barely audible, I will sometimes hear them crystal clear as people talking shit about or to me. Sometimes death threats. This happens about once a week.

When I lived at the Weingart (transitional shelter) I met true severe schizoaffectives. I was part of a trio of close friends. My buddy Sean was doing great, staying sooner and taking his meds. When he got off his abilify he grew obsessed with running. He went from 220 to 150 in about 6 months. He wouldn't talk about anything except running. He could easily run a marathon in under 4 hours. He started tripping off his meds. Running wasn't enough. He started hearing voices telling him he didn't deserve anything. He would spend hours hanging out and talking to his parents even though they were not there. He shot crystal after two years sober. Within a couple months he abandoned his housing and nobody has heard from him. He's been in skid row for the past 8 years so if he didn't die, I feel like I haven't seen the last of him.

Amigo 2 is Ismael. He got kicked out of the weingart for drugs. He would crack me up by hiding under his bed high on crystal to avoid staff. He would literally crawl out from under the bed to do a line and then crawl back under the bed. He left rehab when I had my normal non section 8 pad by MacArthur park, he left to go on a mission to get speed. He vanished. Many months later I find out on Facebook he was in the hospital. He got 60% of his body burned trying to steal copper wire from an abandoned house in Norwalk. His face probably looks like those pics you guys post of the awesome assassin. I talked to him on the phone the other day and will visit him when I scrape up some change. He's been in the hospital for nearly a year. His heart stopped twice. He has multiple surgeries to go. Haven't seen him in over a year.

My room mate and close friend mark became my enemy after ripping me off too many times. He got deep into drugs and could not pay his 62 dollar rent and now he's homeless. I hate that fucker and am glad.

This city eats people alive in the streets. I take an odd sort of pride for surviving when tragedy surrounds me. I am not doing great but I'm doing much better than a lot of people down here. This low is not a low compared to 3 years ago.

[MeatGrease]

Does anyone know how to get in touch with nailedrightin? He should know it's safe to post on the board again...

[postaddiction]

Do you still have the number for the company that runs Staples Center?

[Scumfucker]

The u.s.s.r.a. Inflatable Alligator. By Erik Sanders (my best friend who overdosed the day before Superbowl Sunday)

Chapter one

It was the static coming from the old boom box in the corner that woke him from a dreamless sleep. The room was stifling, it felt as if he was in a toaster oven where people were drying their wet socks. He vaguely remembers the soothing sounds of "Beast of Burden" being cut off at the refrain "pretty pretty pretty pretty pretty pretty girl... Ckkckckkclastatic!!! ... The Greedy Pinko stayed in bed but he wasn't awake or asleep, somewhere between the beginnings/ endings of reconstructing and deconstructing reality when he realized he had to piss. "This is why I am awake, I would rather just drift back but I really gotta go" he thought... Scratching his ass, he grabbed a empty jar from the cluttered mound of piled refuse, clothing, and memorabilia.. Baseball cards glued to dirty dishes, outfits, cottons, drawings, pipes... Lots of pipes all wrapped warm and tight with blankets and strange articles of clothing he never wore. He loved his nest and rarely would leave it even to pee, hence there was a truly glorious collection of different receptacles cast about the linoleum. In bed sometimes he would catch the light bouncing through the glass, urine , and plastic, casting translucent prisms of shadow about his squat. There was no time to watch the three suns do their morning dance today however as he grabbed the nearest empty mason jar. "Oh godddd..." He softly purred as his bladder was finally draining, at last relief. "Maybe I will just go back to bed today... Its only the 25th and I ain't got shit to do...". Just as he began romanticizing the idea of a few more hours of blackness something was vibrating against his urinating cock. It freaked him out so bad that midstream he missed and soaked one of his favorite old records, The White Album... After getting his aim back in line he realized the strangely erotic shock was just his phone, and being pissed about this, he thought about how he really hated the Beatles and just kept the record around to fool folks into thinking he was a good guy, a "Johnson" so to speak. The shattering of black plastic against white walls made the sound of tango kart crashing into a river of cheese. "Much better" he thought answering his phone. "What?" He said in a voice like worn sandpaper. "Hey man, I was just wondering if your going to make it to the thing tonight" answered the voice of someone he would rather not see, "it should be pretty awesome.. I don't know... What you thinking?". "Don't really know yet, I mean I was planning on it but I gotta run over to Loki'sband pick up some stuff I forgot", he responded in his best effort to sound vague yet attentive. "Well, lemme know... You know it's been a while now..." Came that broken lisp through the speaker. "I know man, I know, I am really sorry" his voice trailed off like a dying cat. "No worries, I know where you live" came the half joking reply pon his ancient android, now taped and soldered back together. "Hey, you seen pops around lately?" Asked the hiss in a chipper mood. "No man, not in weeks, I don't know , that guy kind of freaks me out. You know?" The Greedy Pinko answered, now fully awake and intrigued. "I was just wondering.. No big deal. Well, if you make it tonight let's have us a time.". "Sounds grew at bro! Hope to see you there!". Click... Ahhhh. shit The Greedy Pinko fucking hates Dirty Hairy.

"Attention all residents of Florafornia we experienced another mild after shock along the San Andreas just minutes ago. No need to be alarmed, but please prepare yourselves for the worst. We recommend stockpiling as ,much antibiotic medicine, purified water, liquor, food, tinder, drugs, guns, and women and children before the end of the year. Scientologists have now proven that there will be another earthquake somewhere within the span of one and twenty five years. Please excuse your children from church today and take some time to relax. The retail Rodeo has oxynembutal on sale through Saturday! Did you enjoy last years products as much as we did? Of course you did! If you buy more Nubain then you receive reward points on your E.B.T. card. With each purchase you will receive a sample packet of Oxynumbutal. Oxynembutal is the only medicine approved by the F.D.A. and the Church of Scientology! It we even comes in chewable child doses. Come into the Retail Rodeo where the real rhinestone cowboys shop. Gitr done". "So the static was some sort of silly emergency broadcast from the mainland? "Did the aftershock wake me or was it the static?" He wondered feeling suddenly anxious, "why the hell would we feel aftershocks when we are not connected to anything?". He rummaged through his bag of drugs, swallowing a rainbow of pills, washing it down with moonshine. He lits a ghostbuster wrapped in bible paper on a burning candle. "Fuck it" he said out loud, but not loud enough to wake the neighbors. The Greedy Pinko took off his urine soaked pajamas and crawled back in bed. The last thing he remembered before darkness overcame him was putting his tape of Big Trouble in Little China on a generator powered t.v. with a built in v.c.r. he giggled as Kurt Russell began his c.b. radio trucker broadcast. He wished he was as trucker, traveling, sleeping in different strip malls each night on Florafornia, he thought he would have liked to see a place called Montana in the winter, he had seen pictures in a tattered piece of print called National Geographic he had found. Maybe he would visit his mom on. By the time the daydream had dwindled to a subconscious reality he was passed out, the ghost buster burning a scalding ole into his cathartic flesh. He didn't stir. Yet his neighbors could hear him giggling in his sleep. They muttered under their teeth, but had no idea what made this hated, sullen man suddenly break into a fit of happy hysteria. The Greedy Pinko was not experiencing mania, however he was now dreaming. Though he would not remember about what, in his delta subconscious he laughed at the mainland radio broadcast that had woken him earlier. It tickled him pink that on some distant land people still ate what could be considered food.

[Scumfucker]

Do you still have the number for the company that runs Staples Center?

No, but if you are tech savvy, UCLA is hiring IT people for their finance dept.

[the awesome Assassin]

The u.s.s.r.a. Inflatable Alligator. By Erik Sanders (my best friend who overdosed the day before Superbowl Sunday)

Next time PM me, I would love tickets...

[EEEOOOEEEOOOEEEOOO]

95% of the voices are gone. 100% of the voices I was talking to are gone.

so.... serious question. what voices are you ignoring right now?

None right now but in times of great stress I start tripping and hearing voices. These are not hallucinations that originate in my brain but a hearing processing distortion. If I hear muffled voices that should be barely audible, I will sometimes hear them crystal clear as people talking shit about or to me. Sometimes death threats. This happens about once a week.

This is normal for people who hear voices. A typical experience will be hearing voices when a car drives by, the sound of crashing waves, or on television/radio. Joan of Arc heard voices in church bells. I'm not sure that your distinction between a hallucination versus a hearing distortion is really accurate, since it's been shown that schizophrenics experience their voices with the part of their brain that hears sound, so it really sounds to them like a voice outside of their head.

[Scumfucker]

Hi scunfucker
I don't think we ever met at a show, but I hope things turn out OK for you. Even if your just a person I've been vaguely aware of on the internet for a handful of years.

What do you think about some of the projects people are doing in/around skid row? Like pick one and explain how it's shitty or amazing or whatever. Who are your favorite people to deal with?

I've seen a handful of relapsers in person but the only ones I have known and chilled with are Introvert and Amelia.

There's tons of programs and projects around downtown. Lemme see....

The LA Mission is one of the big ones. If you are homeless you go there in the early afternoon. You stand in line and drop your trousers and they shine a car headlight at your pubes to see if bugs are infesting your balls. After bug check, you go to a church service where you are shamed. Then you get to eat dinner. After dinner they make you shower. Imagine a pole with nozzles surrounding it in a circle so when you shower, you are facing 3 people. Their water splashes on you and visa versa. Then you put your clothes in a bag and they make you wear their onesies pajamas. At least it's clean if there aren't bed bugs. They wake you at 4 or 5am and out into the jungle you go.

Other shelters aren't quite that bad. None of the others force church on you. You can see why people would choose a tent outside instead of the LA mission. They also make you work at the LA mission. 30 + hours a week for 7 bucks a week. Slavery

[MeatGrease]

Hey JOFA, if you're reading this, now's your chance to make the "I Am Retarded, And This Is My Story" thread to capture the hearts and minds of the board...

[pAppY]

So do you just not have anymore dreams/ambitions/goals anymore? Or is it more a matter of you still having them, but your current situation is preventing you from pursuing them? It's funny how humans can so quickly adapt to their environments and make something so dysfunctional seem "normal". I've certainly had my moments over the years but ultimately you always really do have the ability to pull yourself out of that hole if you wish.

[Bored Taco Supreme]

You can become the next Burroughs

[Raw Ting]

welcome back, bored. jeez the LA mission sounds horrible.

[Scumfucker]

So do you just not have anymore dreams/ambitions/goals anymore? Or is it more a matter of you still having them, but your current situation is preventing you from pursuing them? It's funny how humans can so quickly adapt to their environments and make something so dysfunctional seem "normal". I've certainly had my moments over the years but ultimately you always really do have the ability to pull yourself out of that hole if you wish.

Talking about goals ambitions dreams makes me a hypocrite who speaks and never acts. I want to work helping getting people off the streets. I clean up well when I try. I blink and months seem to fly by.

[Scumfucker]

You can become the next Burroughs

Erik Sanders could have been the next Burroughs. I want to try to get his book published in honor of his memory. It was as if after he finished the book, he had no fight left in him. I have 80 some pages of it. I'm missing the last few chapters. I want to ask his parents or brothers for a complete copy but I'm sort of scared of asking them for it. If they read it, they would be pretty fucked up from it. Plus he died in my room and I haven't spoken to his family since he died. I am paranoid that they would be resentful of me. Although from chapter 1, you can tell how it's likely gonna end.

[krudmonk]

Karl Sanders could have been the next Burroughs. I want to try to get his book published in honor of his memory. It was as if after he finished the book, he had no fight left in him. I have 80 some pages of it. I'm missing the last few chapters. I want to ask his parents or brothers for a complete copy but I'm sort of scared of asking them for it. If they read it, they would be pretty fucked up from it. Plus he died in my room and I haven't spoken to his family since he died. I am paranoid that they would be resentful of me. Although from chapter 1, you can tell how it's likely gonna end.

[Scumfucker]

I wonder how people recover. Stormy and Goatus, they both seemed to get past the death phase. Post addiction too. But my question for them is: are you fellas sober now 100% or can you drink a few beers smoke a few joints with no problems? Was it all or nothing or can you learn to just get your shit together and stop fucking up?

[the awesome Assassin]

Stop being a whiny cunt... Boo hoo... Shut the fuck up.

[the awesome Assassin]

meow meow = cock slobber... kitty = weak

[MeatGrease]

I remember abdominal pillaging getting more shit for being a junkie than this fucking moron, and that guy had a job at least...

[Scumfucker]

Are you maniac Neil?

[the awesome Assassin]

I remember abdominal pillaging getting more shit for being a junkie than this fucking moron, and that guy had a job at least...

That's a guy to look up to...