Typically…

NZ HERALD shares Multi millionaire business guy gets caught with four grams of good old fashioned cocaine, gets name suppression made permanent, gets a small fine, almost zero percent of his net worth…. Meanwhile people like me go to jail for taking a couple of painkillers to get on with everyday life.

Fuck you NZ Justice. YOU OFFICIALLY SUCK. 

Highlighting the gap between the haves and the have knots has never been simpler.

This wanker got caught with FOUR OUNCES (over 100 grams) of pure cocaine and gets fined the equivalent of 0.0001% of his income.

The drug law in New Zealand is garbage. And, although pushed on us by Henry Anslinger followers after the bullshit prohibition on alcohol went west, must be adhered to.

If you, or dare I say it, I, were found with an amount of cocaine large enough to fall into the category of DRUG DEALING, we would be going to jail, no question. Along the way we would not get our names permanently hidden from public scrutiny.

New Zealand “JUSTICE”

Fucken UNJUST.

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.

Doom and Gloom? Impossible.


Old ARC welder that sat in a carport on Wellingtons south coast in the salty sea air for two years… Got some electrodes for ten bucks off TradeMe and was amazed the thing still worked. Just like an old Ford six cylinder, park it for years, turn it on, and away you go…


Still looking at getting MIG (gas/ageless model) so as to convert 1994 Falcon six cylinder four litre EF front end to 2004 AU3 XR6 suspension, steering, brakes, engine mounts… Will then use AU engine block with my mildly worked, cam’d and extracted 1998 Xr6 head…
Combining the new steering geometry with the large two pot brakes and my huge sway bar… Should do better than my current best 1:32 around Mansfield race track…
Just need to find a house, get a license back, and rob a bank… oh, and stay away from ludicrous amounts of drugs and addicts…

Serenity is being free to pick your own snot…

Apologies to everyone whom has witnessed me struggling with nose issues (picking and digging at phantom pains and non existent snot balls) for last five months since nose surgery…

FINALLY GOT THE SOURCE OF THE PROBLEM…
image

This nylon stitch was removed from right nostril by a very fed up and irritable NZFiend utilising excessive force of left handed pinky finger nail.

Life maybe shitty, homeless, avoiding jail by skin of teeth, avoiding opiate addiction even though legs numb by spine clicking out causing agony…

Being able to pick and blow your own nose at will is true freedom.

Was glad to have been of service…

In an absolutely stupendous way, am glad to have been of service.

A number of the unfortunately afflicted, otherwise known as those whom deal with Wellington Addiction Services, have contacted the author of this, the worlds shittest blog, either asking for advice for upcoming meetings, or commenting on their own experiences with the said Addict DisServices.

Some of the best service I have been, to both the afflicted and the DisService, has been verified today. This is a POSITIVE OUTCOME of a USER LEAD APPROACH to dealing with a perceived LACK OF ENGAGEMENT FROM THE SERVICE.

WHEN GOING TO THE SERVICE AND MEETING WITH
CLARISSA “Yes Mistress” BRODERICK
AND
TOM “Baa Baa like a sheep” FLEWETT,
JUST REMEMBER THE IMAGES YOU HAVE IN YOUR MIND OF THEIR
STRAP ONS,
WHIPS AND CANES.

Imagine Clarissa in a head mistress uniform strapping your bare arse with a cane. Imagine Tom keeping her away from the animals…. Imagine whatever you like that helps you deal with them fucking you.

http://scripts.iucr.org/cgi-bin/paper?S0567740877002544 Some public speakers use the technique of imagining their audience as being naked. This works reasonably well when attempting to control nerves and self doubt etc. Given the possibility that you do not have access to high levels of PROPRANOL this is entirely relevant. Just remember the rumour that CCDHB has a huge supply of sponsored strap ons supplied by visiting drug company sales representatives and imagine vividly what they do with them whilst looking them in the eye.

It will stop you presenting to them as annoyingly angry when they deny your well thought and well researched treatment regime to coerce you into their antiquated and highly dysfunctional therapy system.

Remember to praise them both for having nice arses on your way out to score elsewhere.

The note that cheered me up…

Received this note randomly in my inbox. Never chatted before, bit similarities abound.
THANKS.

Published with his support…

I know the feeling of not being able to open certain web pages out of sheer, squirming anxiety. This was appropriate when I was on home detention/probation for 12/6 months respectively for buyin’ the durgs off the ‘net, and I wasn’t allowed shit that could speak hypertext.

Don’t feel obligated to reply, I’m just writing in support. Channel your energies into whatever gets you through.  I started cooking really nice food spent well over 600 hours playing open-world games on Xbox.  I remember I made a stollen with a log of marzipan through the middle.  Holy fuck, it was good.

Got close to this state again looking after my girlfriend’s place out in the wops while they were in England.  I mean it was beautiful out there but I don’t have a driver’s license or a car.  What drove me nuts about it was being fucken spied on by the neighbours.  I had my mate around and I get a call from England saying that my brother (!) isn’t allowed at the house (he’s perceived as a dodgy cunt, long past the days of his legal high habit).  My mate going around the side of the house in the dark to look for his $1500 camera that had been stolen and fucken chewed up by one of the dogs was perceived as skullduggery at its finest.  So two nights in I’m made aware I’m being spied on and told that I’m not allowed any company.

This, of course, was reason for me to increase my intake of illicit clonazepam to deal with the craziness.  Every coffee, Irish.  Goes without saying that I smoked dak in/around the place from the start, then after about a month, I forget that thank-fuck-she’s-not-going-to-be-my-mother-in-law‘s separated, depressed lackey husband is coming over and the heartiest bong you ever saw made out of a gatorade bottle, a hose and a brass door peeper hole thing is sitting right there on the floor.

Later that night, my parents get a call from thank-fuck saying to get me the fuck out.  Cuuuuuuuuuuuuunt, I even offered the guy a sesh and dinner before he snitched on me.

After I left the place, the more responsible neighbours were given my duties and they proceeded to lose one of the cats and dehydrate one of the chickens to death.  I’d be lying if I said this doesn’t still make me grin with HA HA SERVES YOU RIGHT.  I really love animals but in this case they are true martyrs for our crusade against being stigmatised.  Rightly perceiving awkward future encounters between myself and her family, my girlfriend of four years broke up with me soon after she got back from England.  Ah well.

Off the clonazepam now anyways.  Back to study next semester chipping away at the old maths degree.  Taking a 3rd-year English paper entitled Literary Theory which I’m looking forward to.  English papers tend to have no prerequisites, although I did a 2nd-year one on Comedy which was a lot of fun.  When I was on home detention they ended up letting me go to university 5 days a week but I had to sign in/out with campus security every morning and night which actually built a nice relationship with them.  Took a while to suss this but it was a great hack.  I got to travel 26km away to Hamilton by bus every day.  Had to sort out exactly what buses I was taking and give them the bus tickets.

I realise sometimes, fuck, at least I’m not my mate who’s homeless from a marijuana (!!!) habit, combined with what the Powers That B should call ‘unipolar mania’ and everybody else calls ‘bipolar’.  The pigs are now after him now, because of klepto shit that’s a pretty natural consequence of his circumstances.  My other mate was telling me about last time he saw the guy, smoking a whole-tinny joint while publicly taking a piss in a stranger’s yard and hacking out phlegm all over his clothes.  The dude has nobody.  I would be there from him but that day, he racked CDs from my mate’s car, and these two have known each other for over 7 years now.  Then later on, he tried to cause bullshit drama between another of my friends and I.  Can’t be dealing with any more mindfuck at the moment.

Make sure you enjoy something in spite of these fucking control systems.

Peace, so-and-so…

Hypertext can be bloody dangerous, you’re correct.

When you need a good kick in the head, along comes some really random stuff to do just that.

More specifically, kick my arse out of a rather gravity laden spiral (ie- downward) and into some sort of recovery.

Without allowing my ADHD out of the confining bag labelled “making sense to you, the unwashed masses” and delving off into the world of “recovery writing” I continue….

Heading to the Doctors on one of my brief Government approved outings to the real world I see REAL LIVE PEOPLE. And some real life live people know me. They, without realising, give me reason to be proud of the person whom was once me. For they followed some advice, learnt from my mistakes, or just plain thought “that crazy old wanker has a point” about something. Something learnt via my public self deflagrations had improved their lot. This was, although not up to the standard of instant gratification and happiness most junkies aspire to, rather uplifting.

Or was it just being outside in the sun with fresh air and real live people around?

And then, today, there is, after much fretting about opening gmail on my behalf, an astounding email from someone. Someone whom has found my email address somewhere or some other. And, somehow, decided to write something.

This amazes me every single time. People take time out of their own lives to write to me. My, currently rather pathetic excuse for a life, gets a boost from this.

If only I wasn’t yawning uncontrollably and struggling not to get back into bed at 3pm. For it has been a long day, old coffee mate comes over with a coffee at 11:30 so I pretend to have been “up and about” before he knocked. Borrowing his phone to call some members of officialdom whom have more than likely put my number on “block” lists proves futile- they obviously are avoiding everyone, not just me. He shows emotion at some of the communications that have been killing any amount of mojo and turning my head into what happens when you’ve been on a childs merry-go-round half an hour too long as an adult.

If not for struggling with simple things like bothering to check my own chin for food deposits before visiting doctors offices, I would take care to head some of this advice and MAKE SURE I ENJOY SOMETHING DESPITE THE CONTROLS AND STUPIDITY (I added the “stupidity” bit, admittedly) OF THE SYSTEM.

Sometimes I cannot open emails or web pages. For a few hours today I have managed it. It feels good.

Enough recovery for now. Season Three of AMERICAN HORROR STORY and a horizontal position in bed await closely.

I know the feeling of not being able to open certain web pages out of sheer, squirming anxiety….
This was appropriate when I was on home detention/probation for 12/6 months respectively for buyin’ the drugs off the ‘net, and I wasn’t allowed shit that could speak hypertext.
Don’t feel obligated to reply, I’m just writing in support.
Channel your energies into whatever gets you through.
I started cooking really nice food spent well over 600 hours playing open-world games on Xbox.
I remember I made a stollen with a log of marzipan through the middle.  Holy fuck, it was good….

The lesson for today is…

Hypertext can be bloody dangerous, you’re correct.

Also useful, given the errors WordPress online editing adds during cut and paste sessions…. 😉