DAY 18. The whole “C” side of Fandango

Stunning album boys. Cannot say enough good things about this crap. Phoenix Foundation Fandango. Just f ck n brilliant….

Handwrite test. Kind of shocking, spelt “Gooal morniug” I think. Could be worse. I really need to get myself totally addicted again and do proper scores for different dexterity. emotional, physical and interpersonal checklist.

Like the psychopathic score from Bob Hare… Repeated hourly over months. Maybe use a scale out of ten so that pretty graphs can be created…. Like this one….


As a graph this is somewhat backwards. It does not explain my legs shaking at all. But it is close. If MIDNIGHT is in the middle of the TIME OD DAY SCALE (Y) then it could almost be real data. But, in actual fact, I took some nice data from the recordings of a gamma ray made in the late 1960’s, made lines out of them and made a 3D image. Thanks to Ian Curtis band Joy Division using the original computer plot as an album cover in the late 70’s (good discussion on the origins of the pulsar image and the subsequent pop culture spin offs are all over the web – but click here for a good explanation)

So, I have to get back on the methadone for a month or two at a level of about 70mgs a day to make sure I sure good and proper addicted – And then jump off again and keep more accurate records.

Damn it.

I am not a psycho, but Gerry Brownlee may well be.

Turns out I am *NOT* psychopathic. I have far too much empathy. I have no empathy for me though. Would someone with a professional degree not sourced from a Weetbix packet or Massey have five minutes to work through that? I am not really up for it right now. Maybe I’ll just email Bob Hare, tell him I cannot afford his texts, but am under no doubt I have been tested by them in the past without my knowledge and would like to get re-assesments done over a period of time.

This, again, requires me to be properly addicted and withdrawing. Turns out my science experiment is screwed. I can’t even remember the questions I asked myself at the beginning anyway.

Gerry Brownlee, John Key, John Banks and other politicians actually need this test. Without their knowledge. Come on over Bob, do a seminar or two. Just craftily apply your evil dark arts eye over some of these assholes whilst you’re in the vicinity. Someone should write a book about nutcases in capitalism. But then who would publish it? You’d lose your mortgage, your fast car and your teddy bear.

I always thought a fast decision was a good thing. I am a director personality type myself. People hate me, but any project I work on gets finished, and well. Even if the people block me from Facebook as soon as it’s finished. Turns out that people like me get quite a high score on some of the psycho testing things. Did I mention I have empathy?!…… Phew…….

Gerry Brownlee has none. John Key pretends. You can see – look closely, the only emotions he ever displays are smug, childish. There is never upset. Never thoughtful. Once I saw confused, and that was brilliant. He reverted to going “uh uh uh uh uh uh “…. Until anger got going and he walked away.

But I love John Key really. I love everyone who achieves highly who is a left hander. It is another theory of mine for another day. Watch this space.

N.A meeting last night was great

I needed it. My evening phone call with my daughter went like this

“Hey Dad”
Hey Girl, how are you?
“Good Day. Here’s Mum, Mum wants to talk to you”


Spent an hour being told about lawyers and and and and and and and and and and and and then fucked off and got to NA meeting late. Sat down, listened to some other poor bastards story and said “Hi, I am NZFiend, Addict, sorry to hear about that mate, my ex found out I have been coming to N.A and has gone to the lawyers to take my kids access away, we only get every second weekend as it is, and she is still on the methadone herself, so what the fuck, and I am having a hard enough time right now without having my only reason for living taken away. Cheers.”

Was calming, not quite serene (or even her slutty sister, ecstasy) but calm was enough after blurting out yet another story so everyone else can slash their wrists with me later.

Had to practise walking straight up again. My back is useless and sore. It was pissing down and cold. I found I would start walking hunched over again like the weight of world was on my head. And it had a large concrete drill.

Stand up. Breathe. Maybe not the best music on headphones. Maybe skip forward to something a little less screamlike and violent. Ah, yes, the soothing sounds of a Live Sex Pistols gig from Bristol. And then the phone rings. It is 10pm, dark and cold and I have just visited someone who knows me better than anyone for an hour. The phone rings and a bloody N.A. guy whom I have a lot of respect for is on the end. Cool. Good man, but he doesn’t know what’s going on – I have not seen him for a little while, so just say everything is fine and hang up, thanks for calling though mate, good man…

Believe it or not I am going to convert all these guys to scientology with me.

I suppose I should do some normal stuff like get shopping and pay bills and fill out hours of court paperwork now…. I just want to read all my books and research how ants find their way from A to B on the net.



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