Methadone. It’s a killer.

It’s a killer all right. “Street” Methadone is way worse than “chemist” or “prescribed” methadone.

Of course it is. Someone did a nice graphic once to prove it.

The only trouble with methadone becoming street methadone is the supply chain dynamic. You have old junky fucks giving out their doses. Sometimes out dirty bottles. Sometimes infecting people with HEP C. Sometimes ripping them off. Watering it down.

The way to beat this is simply to go and pick up the guy at 7am before he goes to the chemist. Pick him up, watch him enter, watch him leave. Get your drone on.

I know a few young people who have their first opiate experience with methadrone. Horrible way to start, but addiction takes massive amounts of DEDICATION.

You have to be dedicated to become addicted to just about anything. No point doing it half assed.

GEOFF MORGAN. Hating me.

Uhm. Ooops. Left the record player lid down and….. GEOFF_MORGAN_spewing

Damn it. The sun must have come out. Geoff Morgan loves white girls. But he hates me for doing this to his UB40 album. Guess what? I have the internet.

YOUTUBE the album. 

But I don’t actually own Geoff Morgan. Someone will want to shoot me.


FOOD. It’s a killer too.

Food intake has become slightly more manageable and correct. Yesterdays intake was one egg on toast, on sausage roll, can of tuna, fish fillet on rice (although didn’t eat half the fish fillet, the local stray cats got it… Service, right there….)

This, combined with three energy drinks and my usual coffee intake, served me well.

Today I just cooked TWO eggs on toast (poached) and then sat at computer and promptly dropped them. Have always prided myself on being able to drop eggs or soap and catch them. But when two go flying in separate directions you are face with a choice. Managed to catch one, with the bit of toast… Without even breaking the runny yolk. But the other is a stain on the carpet.


Can’t even blame it on withdrawal shakes any more.

Mental Health Meeting Tonite.
Be there or be a rectangle with 7 on the side


Mental health ward meeting for N.A tonight. Fucken A. Highlight of my fortnight. Wonder if the psych idiots like Sam McBride know it is me going and “doing service” there. Probably not. Do they care? Probably not.

Have heaps of stuff to do really. Tomorrow is the final day for filing criminal defence papers and is also the day for going to family court to make sure things are progressing.

They aren’t. On both counts. The police prosecution have promised “someone will get back to me” (they have not)… And the family court… Well… Let’s not go there. Assholes. The lot of them.

Angry Birds tattoo done already. May start adding birds to it.

Was a good idea, but…

Bugger. Buying a computer to do some design stuff and all that was a good idea. Winter was here. Figured I could sit down and fathom out all sorts of angles on the housing and mental health side of the world. Almost got there. Started thinking about it anyway.

And then shit happens. Shit being life. And now it is spring. And ADhD me wants to go do things all the time. Don’t know why I even bother with a house sometimes. I need somewhere to store shit.

Kind of sad really. I am so side tracked all the time. Constantly. It is an issue.



  1. doing that to a record! -yes someone WILL kill you, you had better put it between 2 oven trays and with a heavy weight on top in a low temp oven to fix it


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