John Oliver VS Capitalism and Addiction

Remember FOX NEWS said “BUSH HAS WON THE ELECTION” so all the other news outfits started doing it so as to not be behind, or miss the scoop. The thing is – BUSH DIDN’T WIN. He lost – but the other guy, hearing that he had lost, threw in his towel and conceded, at which point he was fucked. Don’t forget FOX news was run by one of the Bush family at the time…..

Anyway, slightly off the topic, but when have you ever criticised me for being on topic to start with..?..

We need more honest proper journalism and independent investigative journalists. Nowadays you can spot errors in about every single story on every page of every newspaper. Main TV news seems to be more and more like the internet news of old every day.

And therein lies the problem.

People want cute cats, death and mayhem.

The mass public will not sit through a thirty minute story showing both sides of an argument properly… 110km/h on highways kills people.. Boy racers are all druggies with bald tyres. Cute cat.

John Oliver Does Drugs

Sorry about taking some saturation out of your overly coloured American TV face John old Boy…

And then there is JOHN OLIVER. 

He did his usual fifteen minute of TRUMP BASHING, and to his credit he manages to keep this fresh and interesting each week – or maybe it is just due to the fact Trumpt comes up with so much shit each week he is simply too easy, and then progressed to do an opinion piece on the state of addiction in the good ol’ U S of A.

Not a bad effort… Other than he took great pains to ridicule the term “pseudo addict“.

A term I hadn’t heard of. A term which sounds, on the surface, to be total bullshit.

Good on you John, you are the man.

In the context of a drug company trying to show the world it’s drugs are not the cause of addicts problems, it possibly is bullshit. More than possibly even. Plausible denial anyone?

But wait — There’s more…

(yeah, yeah – you guessed it…. Unca Fiendipoo has a spanner. And a good throwing arm.)

Start scratching under the surface (or maybe just start scratching depending how much of an addict you really are) the theory is quite sound. It may come from the mouth of a pseudo scientist, but someone who exhibits addictive drug seeking behaviour may be no more of a problematic addict than you or I (queue Americans favourite laughing track – the auto chuckle)… 

Fiend says –
“Pseudo addict” may just have a place in this debate on how to deal with the problems of addiction in capitalist environments.

Let us just say… Just for debates sake… 

If I am in pain (me? never…) and need a few opiates to coach my kids football team, I go to the doctor. The doctors glasses slide down his nose and he looks at me sideways. No matter how much they know about my pain, my back, my lifestyle, my parenting or my need to participate in life on terms agreeable to me, the maker and the pharmaceutical companies – the doctor will always look at “addict” potential first and my quality of life second.

Purdue, we have a problem.

And, by the sounds of this John Oliver thing, so do hundreds of thousands of Americans.

Now, don’t get me wrong. I have not gone all soft in my old age. Americans can all go still fuck right off and suck Clintons dick / clit dry as far as I am concerned.

However, I feel for the pain and the difficulties the poor people who are controlled by the whim of the pen. On a good day the doctor will write. On a bad day, the doctor wont. The days are not so much swayed good or bad by his kid playing well at football — more the pressures put on him by media, drug companies capitalistic ways and the controlling bodies antiquated views of addiction.

This week John Oliver has told the world the drug companies are confusing the doctors. They obviously need to play with their own product some more.

John Oliver. Take time to read GLOBALIZATION OF ADDICTION.

Or, since no one has an attention span any longer than a thirty second sound byte (I know – I am ADHD super hero number 666) …

Dear John @iamjohnoliver

please look up Dr. Gabor Maté  on YOUTUBE.

Thank you, and goodnight.

John seems to have pitted himself against capitalism AND addiction. The first time anyone in history has managed this. A little like … hell … cannot quite work out what it’s like.

Maybe I am very much every inch totally drug fucked as the idiots at Wellington Addiction Services would tell you.

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WHITE RABBITS. Sunrise. Sleepless again. Shit.

image

Sunrise. Goddam. Sleep woulda been nice.

Tried to re-break fractures in nose at Wellington Hospital yesterday…. Failed…

Now being booked in for ’emergency’ surgery.

Is that really necessary” says me.

“Mate, it’s a bloody complicated and extreme septum deviation. It’s really not a simple operation…. ”

Okay, thanks” says me with relief after spending the last five minutes concentrating on not passing out due to amazing pain in face and head.

General anesthesia sounds great. Pissing about trying to put bridge of nose a few mm towards the left left me with headaches and feeling pulse through nose like a hammer all night.

Knock me the fuck out and rearrange this septum…. ffs!

CCDHB is great. Although being banned and trespassed from all CCDHB grounds and environs, they continue to ignore this and provide me with world class health care.

Clarissa Broderick and her strap on are the only things at all denied to me by this “trespassing” order by the looks of it.

The trespass order is illegal in my opinion anyway, and I would love the Police to try and enforce it.

I have rung and Twitter’d #nzpolice showing them when I am “illegally trespassing” yet they have not once come to arrest me.

Clarissa and her strap on is more appealing than this headache and nose issue.

May try booking an appointment with her. I said “white rabbits” after all. Am due a good month.

image

Nose. Hard to tell, but it's fucked, although wasn't actually fucked...

It’s all football. This life stuff is good after all. Sans NZ Police.

You so do not need an
adrenaline junky life,
drugs or
stupid kinky BDSM sex
with old married ladies
when you get messages such as…

“HEY , our Son, ______ has been LOVING the football trainings”…

“Hi again, thank you so much for all your efforts,
______ is the happiest and most tired he has been the whole holidays” …..

“Our kid missed basketball as he wanted to be at your training instead,
even tho it was raining….”
“MY kid ______ can’t wait for another training.
Are you doing any more outside normal times?”

“You deserve so much credit for finding any energy at all,
especially with your back. We, as parents, owe you so much…”

 
FUCK ME.

All this and I have only been with the kids for a few hours.

One kid has AUTISM quite badly. Intelligent enough, but a real social handful. His mates have adhd, and I have managed to “control” the Autism New Zealand Wellington kid by getting the ADHD kids to help me help him.

I take no prisoners as a coach. But EVERYONE, eventually, can see shit starting to work already. The parents may hate me calling their kids “shit heads” or “lazy little fucks”… I don’t think that is in the coaches handbook.

 

But then, at the end of the day, the bloody kids end up happy and everyone see’s it all coming together. Just a few passes stick together, some kid does a header even and a kid scores, without it looking like plain dumb luck! Coach demands high fives (NOT HARD ENOUGH BOY. SLAP IT LIKE YOU HATE IT. THAT’S THE WAY). Coach picks up kids who get things right and runs around the field like a home coming from a World FIFA U-20 World Cup Winning team.

 
And me and my brain feel happy, content and fullfilled.
 
Until a few chemicals wear off and I go chasing stupid drugs, stupid sex or adrenaline junky speed behaviours.
 
This will happen first thing in the morning.

Luckily my script of Ritalin is due, the non married blonde who talks kinky as hell, but is actually a bit vanilla and my car are all available. 

 

 Even if having a lot of drugs before oral sex whilst driving miles too fast almost bores me.

Still, it’s better than nothing.

It’s just not as good as coaching a bunch of crazies.

————————————————————————————————–

AND – PS – EVEN MORE PEOPLE HAVE STUMBLED OVER THIS BLOG AND BRUCE K ALEXANDER.

http://www.truth-out.org/news/item/29118-portugal-cut-addiction-rates-in-half-by-connecting-drug-users-with-communities-instead-of-jailing-them#14288224048801&action=collapse_widget&id=0&data=

Well, you have to cringe…

board_shitless_outline

Am getting this tattoo coloured in sometime.

TENDER! Took over two hours. Very fine needle for the whole outline and then a rather raw feeling on the colouring in. Helped kill my back pain for a short while.

And hey –

Unfortunately there are people I care about who have stuck up for me at levels higher than I can reach myself… In order to distance them from the fallout generated by me being me, I have had little to do with CCDHBDSM, ADDICTIONS or anything else for a while.

Trust me, this does not mean I have not been working away with various nameless people and organisations on drug reform issues.

Trust me, I will be a pain in the arse again.

Clarissa, John and all those idiots who carry on like their gods.

I know they are not gods.

For I have met god.

Genuinely, I can clarify….. Clarissa is no where near.

(Sorry to burst your bubbles Blair Bishop General Practice Liaison Officer and John Zonnevylle of convoluted title covering the fact he is a doormat – her legs, tits and smile may have you hook line and sinker, but the rest of us find she has little hold over us. The minute she actually looks into my eyes and opens her mouth with anything approaching honesty would be the exact same minute I provide her with a face shot. Besides, Blair,  I can provide photographic evidence that much better exists. You should come look in my bedroom window some nights…. I kid you not. One or two of my associates can vouch for this. And they have not even had the face shot)

A REAL BLAST FROM THE PAST

BLOODY FACEBOOK! There is a use for it after all.

During the course of writing all this crap on the Worlds Shittest Blog (TM) there have been various outstanding members of the community at large whom have seen fit to contact me. Some of the favourites are people from the past.

Am not really the sort of chap to go for the absolute poshest club known to Wellingtonians… Since he is a member and all that, I convinced myself to put my obvious socialist leanings to one side and enter the lair of right wingers. Just for a moment.

After having a very enjoyable hour long light brunch with a man whom earns more each day than I do in an entire year (yes, it was his shout) we decided to do it again.

Well, my old Fiend, I have asked you about 2% of the four thousand questions I have for you. Therefore we need to do this again. Next time we will set aside a proper lunch or dinner. 

If you have four thousand questions, I have at least sixteen thousand answers…. Some of which will even sway you from your belief the economy is the answer to everything. In fact, in less than five minutes there was some interest in an alternative point of view.

ADHD is everywhere.

The economy is not going to fix that.

AND THEN…

BLOODY FACETUBES!
There is a use for it after all.

A really old friend / flame / hair freak contacted me.

YEAH BOI

Fucken stoked.

So fucken stoked…
Thought this, and a lot of my other work, was gone forever. 

Board Shitless ANSI graphic by FIEND

Seriously?!!!!

bs_2

And then there is life.

Am writing from cellphone as daughter is MineCrafting after this mornings football…

image

Yesterday was valentine’s. Something not really on my radar.

It seemed only fair to spend a little romantic time with another single person. Although having a few possible hug and cuddle contenders, I had accepted the idea put forward by a single lady whom was feeling especially single and down on a day advertised by our corporate leaders as a “must have” otherwise you’re not as happy as you should be.

For once I cove to corporate crap. I gave a quick visit, present and hug to a beautiful young lady whom could be a great fun friend, long term. If only she felt the same… Sigh.

Then received odd Valentine’s day comments from some very young and possibly fun friends.

But ended up spending the evening, uer, the night, with someone else. She snuck in, once daughter asleep, jumped into bed without preamble, started a dvd and greeted my return from shower with a genuine smile and hug. I am never going to love this lady, hell, I don’t even like her that much.

But right then and there we were both what eachother needed. Poor girl.

I was stressed. My daughter came for a weekend without a change of undies or socks. Three days in same underclothes, on top of other repeated adhd style behaviours started doing my head in.

Had a nice chat with lady from previous post. She knows about this blog. She may have read yesterdays entry. Whatever the reason she has not returned texts or calls today. Hope she ended up having a nice Valentine s. Was thinking of her, just couldn’t be with her.

Fucken life.
.?

 

Just sent this text to the four players whom showed up for this mornings soccer football…

Was good having time after game . I have a really screwed up lower spine so takes me a while to get going. Was neat having time after game to have a kick and give attention to each kickers style. Will give them homework and fitness drills next week…
Lol
🙂

Spending time with four kids and their mums n dads n aunties was A fucken PLUS use of my life.

 We only had four players, the manager of the other team had a beautiful smile, a nice wink and a warm handshake. The team was from a rich suburb. All the mums were well presented and young. This, believe it or not, was not noticed until later. Right now, however, we borrowed a player.

My kid and her got along really well. We had a great game, some good moves. Some of my advice and nagging was evidently working well… Parents on all sides are starting to see the madness that is me making sense. The kids are starting to love playing Sunday footy. It was cold and wet and for the first time in history, not one single kid or parent mentioned, nay, complained, about…. weather

We got there at 8. We left at 10.30 even tho we only had a half hour game at nine.

We didn’t want to leave. The fields were needed for adult games. Kids all learnt. I taught one kid something. I taught another kid something else. I have grazes from goalie diving on artificial turf. Kids have sore legs from kicking a ball more than most ever have. Parents seemed stoked. Dad and Coach worn out.

Sometimes I love my life and think I am truly an awesome guy.

Really. This is a new thing for me. Having spent the better part of three decades trying to live as though you didn’t want tomorrow goes with the territory of loathing. Of the most dedicated “I don’t give a shit” variety.

And then the kids go, the nice mums stop imagining fifty shades of football coach, the energy fades like the come down from some watered down NZ purchased cocaine…

We have twenty dollars to go to a festival, yet we’re sitting at home. She is playing MineCraft. She creates some amazing things and I am so proud of my slightly adhd bundle of enthusiasm….

Need another life. A family. A real family unit.

Without, there is a large deficit of happy.

A happiness deficit of any magnitude is a dangerous thing.

Artificial happiness is available.

So, prey, is oblivion.

It is bloody hard trying to chose life, fucken life. On a daily basis.

Fifty Shades of Black n Blue… Happy Valentines

A year ago today saw a post right here called Valentines Doornails.

It had a specially created graphic. I went and got a syringe, pulled some blood into it out my own arm and then sprayed it around a dying rose flower.

Something like this…

valentines

Good huh?

Stop holding your breath.

This year you lot get nothing.

Fifty Shades of Grey, my ass. I have spent time (quality time) with various females whom have read this book. Sounds like Mills n Boon with a couple of extra props to me. Yawn.

Lately I have been getting a few tattoos. I dropped a car gearbox on my forearm two days ago.

I am in danger of falling in love with the girl whom hits the bruise on my forearm with a closed fist as hard as she can. In danger of falling for the girl whom is so open and obnoxious in public that she could compete with me. (And that really is something…) The girl whom sees a new tattoo, grabs it, hits it, scratches her fingernails down it, and then cares for it with all the tender care of a mother caring for a new born.

The girl whom…. Well, fuck, we enjoy each others company greatly. A hugely dangerous and problematic time approaches all too rapidly.

She has left me with fifty shades of black and blue.

Think it has to end. She claims she is a good friend.

I have yet to see it.

Hell of a lot of fun maybe.

But good? Not on your life.