Dairy of how to become a junky ADHD mess…

Anyways…Work it out for yourself…

Was going to ring you earlier but then just went to bed again… Been spending more than the usual amount of time in bed recently. It is the time of year for it – nothing to worry about. Just a little cold and winter bringing onset a wee depression, no doubt.

Promised Mum I would make her a new compost bin as Dad is dying slowly along with the rotted out fence she has been piling compost against for two decades.

Aren’t we all. Dying that is. His clock took on a new rhythm for a while recently… Just to be clear, this was not a old sixties dance hall classic number. More drumb and base poured into a blender with Motorheads final Ace Of Spades renditions…

Went down to Mum n Dads to measure up previously mention compost bin… To be made from wood, with my own hands. Would prefer to cut one from alloy and weld nowadays. Am enjoying my new tools and skills always need sharpening. Tools need sharpening and new skills? Half a dozen of one, six of the other. Some shit anyway…

Told Dad I was being operated on within four weeks of the doctor seeing my bum. Dad, as usual, without fail, without preamble, without thought for anyone outside his one square foot of universe,

“they have always got me in real quick, like the time I showed up with…..”

(sure,
my judgement and memory may be clouded
with time, space and
interesting neurological experiments gone awry
nonetheless, seems like this is a reoccurring theme one cannot discount my memory and feelings as completely inaccurate)

“Dad, they only get you in quick if there’s emergency or something serious” was the somewhat necessary interruption.

Yet still he carried on about HIS operations.. Oblivious to fact, his fiction weighing heavily on the judge and jury of his own mind.

Having actually had more operating table excursions over my fourty years younger span of life, he doesn’t bother to remember anything about my issues, health or happiness. Nor, it seems, going so far as to suggest others problems have been trivial.

When he sees me wince with pain just standing still he says “oh, your back is getting like mine, hahahaha”. Yeah right, like he has had emergency spine surgery and pissed and poo’d himself walking to the hospital… Fuck he is such a self centred fuck…. Unbelievable… This is going to require a breath, a thought of something happy and a lot of self restraint. Would be nice to have that loverly Clarrissa here with some restraints, but she was already booked and tied up elsewhere…

So he tells me all about HIS for the hundredth time in as many visits. Tiresome in itself.

Interruption time again….

Must record one of these conversations. You may, even the most die hard retard apologist among you,  be sympathetic to that at least. He sure ain’t.

“So, you have any idea why they would get to me so quickly?” 

“I presume as they are quiet at the moment and I was seen in that amount of time after a doctor saw my collapsed viens in my……”

WTF? Are you serious? Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, fuckme, fukme, f’me….. Relaaaaaaaxxxxxx…. He may be just about dead and nothing is going to change the guy now, even if he did think anything about himself and his life was not perfect.

FUCK UP DAD , NOT EVERYTHING IS ABOUT YOU.

(well, I tried. Honest)

Dad, chastised for once. Not a pretty sight as it happens…
“I never said it was about me”

DAD, EVERYTHING YOU HAVE SAID IS ABOUT YOU. NOT ONE SINGLE GENUINE QUESTION, OR SO MUCH AS EVEN FAKED INTEREST IN WHAT IS GOING ON FOR ME. AM BEING OPERATED ON TUESDAY MORNING JUST FOUR WEEKS AFTER A DOCTOR SAW THE LUMP IN MY BUTT CHEEK DAD. THAT WOULD SUGGEST IT IS IMPORTANT, WOULD IT NOT?

“I don’t know son, they see everyone as fast as they can…”

Remaining the calmest possible, given fourty years of this sort of conversation… Hell, you people reading it are bored of it already. Imagine the effect this has on a kid growing up, or indeed the fourty year old man still trying to grow up…

THE FUCKEN SPECIALIST GUY I AM SEEING AT HOSPITAL IS THE SAME GUY WHO TREATED YOUR DAUGHTER

(funnily enough, also known as my sister, who died of Cancer May7th a few years ago aged less than me)

“Oh yes, he seemed nice… Although your sister argued with him, he knows his stuff. Top guy, really really clever…” …OMG

Really not bothering to remain calm in face of this much narcissistic stupidity DAD, WHY THE FUCK WOULD I BE SEEING THE SAME GUY AS KATE ? WHY WOULD THEY OPERATE ON ME SO QUICK ? WHY AM I BOTHERING TO TELL YOU THIS AT ALL ?

 

“I don’t know Tony, they are a good hospital though…..”

 

Oh for fucksake, if he wasn’t already on the waiting list for the cremation table I would kill this bloody idiot…

DAD, THEY THINK I HAVE FUCKEN CANCER FOR FUCKSAKE. WHY ELSE WOULD I BE SEEING THE FUCKEN CANCER SPECIALIST? THEY *DO NOT* GET YOU INTO OPERATING ROOMS IN THIS BROKE ARSE HEALTH SYSTEM IN FOUR WEEKS FROM FIRST SEEING A DOCTOR WITHOUT IT BEING DEEMED IMPORTANT.


Just in case he managed to avoid the point (as proven, he is quite bloody well capable)

 

THEY THINK I HAVE CANCER DAD. But I don’t. The really really really clever people and their two times through the MRI, the X-Ray, the Ultrasound, the various specialists including a muscular skeletal guy have it wrong.

However, I am going in Monday to sort out the procedure and am in Tuesday to have half the weight of my right arse cheek cut out… Will be good to get the bloody thing out. Even though it’s not cancer, it is annoying me more and more recently…

 

“Oh, why didn’t you tell us?”

 

FUCK ME.

 

Work it out yourself. Seriously.

 

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When Stuck Home Twenty Four Seven

When stuck home twenty four seven you get sore, fat, depressed and a bunch of other really unhealthy sounding things. Things the powers that be probably neglect to take into account when judging you. They expect you to enter this limbo state and appear to the world that you are happy, stable in doing something with your life. What’s the point? You aren’t. You may as well just be getting really fucked up. No one is around to care. Makes no difference to anyone how you spend a few months on your own.

Surely.

textWas a little surprised when my tattooist mate contacted me earlier today. Have signed up to NETFLIX and was up until 3am watching latest series of MAD MEN and a new discovery, HOUSOS, which is bloody funny if you happen to be from New Zealand and spent a little time in Australia. Which, funnily enough, quite a few people in the near vicinity have. We were cracking up.

As it happens, getting the bottom of your foot tattoo’d is a bloody sore thing…. Who would’ve thought?

Making the world a better place, one step at a time.

fixing_back_5July2015Am feeling reasonably good right at this moment. Having started to see growth around the stomach region am considering

They didn’t warn me about that when signing the papers for Electronic Monitored Bail. Any idiot in the world would realise being trapped at home for months on end will lead to comfort eating and many many many extra hours in bed watching complete TV series or films.

Really am in a limbo.

A serious one at that.

Waiting until SEPTEMBER for next meaningful court appearance which may result in freedom from ankle ball and chain.

And that is it.

Waiting. In limbo. For god knows what.

Since Thursday I have been looking forward to tomorrow excitedly. For tomorrow is a big day… Am out the door at 10:45 to attend a Probation Service meeting at 11am.

They wanted to come here. NO FUCKEN WAY!

Jeeeeeeeezus. You are not going to come here and prevent me from having a fifteen minute walk outside the confines of this cell.

REALLY!

Just give me a little break. Just an incy wincy one.

Am sure that giving a little bit of happiness and a little chance of helping me to help myself is not that far removed from a positive thing.

How the hell the CORRECTION DEPARTMENT claim to be “reducing re-offending” with this sort of attitude is beyond any logical argument.

Love to you all.

LOST SOUL / FLAMING SOUL

doom lost soul tattoo

LOST SOUL from DOOM game. 

Played this one a lot. A hell of a lot.
Queenstown, New Zealand.
Listening to Nirvana the whole time. 

Am I a lost soul? Aren’t we all?

As I worked out as a ten year old, we are all walking through life backwards. You can only see where you have been, not the road ahead. Where you have been may suggest what is happening behind you, but as you walk backwards there is no certainty as to what your feet will land on.

I should have been a messiah.

Standing outside the tattoo shoppe after two hours of some of the worst pain (both from back and tattoo) imaginable, a person whom works for Addiction DisServices walks past, see’s me and nods like a friend.

Dude, you are not a friend. My two friends who died of cancer think you’re a retard. My other friend whom has cancer thinks you’re something even worse.

Personally, I think that if you nod and smile at a guy with blood spewing down his chest whom you know writes about you online, you should at least have the balls to stop and talk.

It may just do you some good.

Maybe will let you know when I am back in the tattoo shoppe having the shading and everything done. I will be dead useless for a few hours during this process, but you can wait….. Just like you make the poor people on your addiction (dis)service do daily.

Thankfully, I am not one of them.

Here’s me, sometimes I even smile.
You, being bigger, taller, heavier and
fitter than I should have nothing to fear.

me_raw

Letter to Health and Disability Commission

health_buttonAs published previously, there are guidelines for complaining about and managing your care… Health and Disability Commission is one such avenue. They will advocate for you in a complaints type process. Myself and them have had a few contacts over the last year and a half. Most recently a few weeks ago where the idea was put forward of getting together a number of people with similar complaints and recording their concerns and approaching the “powers that be” collectively.

I like this idea. A LOT. The people suggesting it seem to actually listen. And care.

My heart just stopped.

There are MANY MANY people all over Wellington with similar issues. When in Christchurch last week I was bloody well astounded to hear the same stories from those poor fuckers. Four hours I spent talking with addicts and methadone victims in CHCH. Only two of them told me about people being injured or dying in earthquakes. But every single one of them had a complaint and serious issue (anger) with the methadone programme. Now known as some stupid acronym (those who read this regularly will roll their eyes fully expecting me to produce some more of my own world shatteringly clever acronyms – I will refrain, just this once – you owe me) like CORS or some shit, they are the cause of angst and stress amongst many people already suffering dislocation from society.

GOOD ONE CORS. You can thank me for reading all the works of Bruce K Alexander (RAT PARK et al) later. Saves you the bother. Copies now available at Wellington public library. Bruce has never offered me royalties. Not even jokingly. Life is not fair. Life is not for everyone.

http://www.stuff.co.nz/the-press/news/9855871/Methadone-Liquid-handcuffs

This article is eight months old.  Some things have changed. A little. Very little. Some things have even got worse.

chchc

The people at MATUA RAKI bestow the efforts of CORS to include a “strong consumer voice” in their presentation to the “ADDICTION LEADERSHIP DAY CONFERENCE”. Fuck me people. Is it just as some politically minded people were there? Or do you REALLY believe everything is coming up smelling of roses?

Piles of shit may produce good roses. One day.

(Banana skins would be a much better point from a purely horticultural view – Unfortunately this would be lost on politically wrong Wellingtonians. So, PILE OF SHIT it is.)

Without people spotting errors, spotting things wrong, complaining and changing the system…. Nothing would change. The world would still be flat.

It is broke. It needs fixing.

Telling me you have twenty years experience and therefore giving your opinion that my opinions don’t matter is just garbage. A catch 22 of pile of shit.

You have been working on something twenty years and it is still broken?

Go get another job. Honestly, you people deserve a cake.
A cake made from Double U-O Globe Number 4. Mock cream in middle 50-50 mix Psilocybin and Lysergic acid diethylamide 25. Iced with Ice (of course – chortle chortle).logo

van

Vanessa Caldwell is actually really neat. So are most of the people I have met over the last year and half of dealing with addiction. Most really do mean to make a difference with their lives, both in their capitalist job sense and for the addicted masses.

I have managed to control my obvious dislike for those with gold watches and cars with plates newer than 2010. I’ve controlled my ADHD a little. I have managed to converse well with a number of people whom will never talk to me again once they realise I am an invalids beneficiary who flies around the country for no reason what-so-ever. Just to annoy them really. Go on, ask them. They will agree whole hearted. Champagne glasses in their manicured hands.

For I have no agenda. No barrow. No income.

Imagine this, the worlds shittest blog, with its own http address and a flash name like Whale Oil. O for oar sum.

I live in a very run down block of housing corp flats. I live on the bottom floor. I get rotten walls, damp mould. I get things landing outside my window such as butts, syringe wrappers and empty pill packets. My block has eighty odd flats. There are ten people on methadone. There are three drug dealers. There are many on P. Many alcoholics. Many problems. Many gangs.

This is me.

I have a strong sense of social equity. I talk to all people the same. The judge, the politician (hey there Peter Dunne, apologise to Jacinda for my silly, yet sincere, house husband proposals next time you see her…) or the junky laying in the gutter in a recovery position with a slow respiratory rate. They all get the same respect and the same voice from me.

They will, equally, get the same ear bashing if they start quoting wrong facts and figures. They may learn, as did my politically errant in laws, that if people like me actually start arguing we are damn well sure to have enough back up facts to make the argument worth while.

What was the point of all this again?

Have I taken enough Ritalin today? God, grant me the serenity.

 

“””My Dearest [good person at Health and D Comm’]

just letting you know we have been getting nowhere rather rapidly (or slowly) with a few things. The major concern seems to be that “ADDICTION” takes precedent over all other health diagnosis. Unfortunately it has reached the stage where my client has threatened to “write a letter detailing what you c***s are doing and drive head on into oncoming cars in order to highlight what you c***s are doing to me.”

Believe it or not, I have seen this sort of thing before. I have seen people cut off programmes and maintenance regimes and end up in jail with days as they feel robbing a pharmacy and telling their story to a judge and newspaper will help change things.

It doesn’t. [look at the guy who would not get a blanket from Work and Income, so shot three of them]

What would help greatly is being listened to properly.

The staff at ADDICTION SERVICES (CCDHB) today advised my client that they could provide an advocate for him “who would have the run of the hospital” and be much better than the current advocate (me). They also said that they felt uncomfortable with me at meetings and wished him not to bring me in future.  Their basis for this is that I write a blog. If they have ANY issue with the content of my public ramblings, they could approach me and advise me that I have made an error. I am fully prepared to stand up in court and prove every single fact.

They, basically, do not like scrutiny. Nor do they like the idea of hundreds of people every day reading about them. [just to clarify this – The record was over 800. But, lately, most people just read about LORDE and leave – But then 40 individuals have looked here in six hours, half from NZ, mainly USA and Great Britain fill the remainder. They each looked at 1.8 pages (mostly the most recent post and, of course, LORDE…]  

Nor do they like the idea that there are many many more people out there whom are having the same issues but are too ham-strung to speak publicly.

Anyway, I am going to send my client your way very soon. Facts and sense seem to make no difference to these people. 


I attend meetings with my client, as official advocate, and they will not let me speak. They openly ignore me and will not make eye contact. At previous meeting I even had to intervene as one staff member became very angry and was one level below shouting at my client – even though it was her protocols that were causing her anger.

Can we meet in person, or shall we write basis of complaint and forward to you?

Sorry to trouble you. This system is broke. It needs work.“””

And, so saying, that is another ranting post from me. The last for the day. Tune back tomorrow once the mushroom cloud has cleared from your neck of the woods…

Cameron Slater (Whale Oil) has now been blocked from my phone. Honestly, dude, calm the fuck down! Might even get t-shirts printed. But that is a story for another day. My previous post about John Key being a psychopath may have got his g-string in a bundle.

This day has produced it’s headache quotient already. After going to say a quick farewell to one of my oldest junky mates, I get hit with a bunch of crap from other old junky mates. Only to do it all again tomorrow at other old junky mates funeral.

Life. It is not for everyone.

Life on the pharmacists terms is not for anyone.

Funeral today are ARO ST COMMUNITY HALL.  Old stomping ground of many a young punk style teen... Communists everywhere. Surprised property prices have not declined.

Funeral today at the ARO ST COMMUNITY HALL.
Old stomping ground of many a young punk style teen…
Communists everywhere. Surprised property prices have not declined.

Journo-lism students. Changing the world one step at a time without even realising it.

Journalism. Back in the day it was a force in the world. Fourth Estate and all that. Judging by a lot of the crap produced in “professional” print publications nowadays you really have to wonder.

There is hope.

The world is changing.
Too slowly mind you, but changing nonethebloodyless.

Have been interviewed by many students over the years – usually people doing masters or other thesis work involved with addiction, mental health, criminality and even one or two high ranking police officers interested in things other than pinning my innocent ass to the wall and tazering it senseless.. Have been interviewed by people with long lists of letters after their names that would indicate they have had much better life plans than my goodself. (And probably better social graces and backing from Daddy’s trust fund……..!!!)

 

This blog is kind of stupid. It may not even qualify as a “blog” any longer.

This time last year I spent four hours writing a piece on being left handed. Thinking that maybe “us lefties” were more likely to be ADHD and creative resulted in many thousands of words spilling forth. Then it got titled (without much forethought, and more than a little sarcastically) “LEFT HANDEDNESS – A CURSE FROM THE DEVIL”. Although not having read it since writing it, I remember it as a ground breaking and brilliant example of new philosophy.

Someone on the street six months later told me that coats of arms have a “good” side and a “bad” side. GOOD is RIGHT. LEFT is BAD. Fuck me, what did you say?

I looked it up further. Turns out bloody PLATO and all those Greek and Latin speaking kiddy molesters beat me to it. The origin of the coat of arms thing comes from Latin – “SINISTER” was “LEFT” basically.

To this day you are “CORRECT” if you are “RIGHT”. Even the term “cack – handed” has sinister connotations….

cack-handed (ˌkækˈhændɪd)

adj

1. left-handed
2. clumsy
[from dialect cack excrement, from the fact that clumsy people usually make a mess; via Middle Low German or Middle Dutch from Latin cacāre to defecate]
In other words, you would wipe your ASS with your CACK hand. Work it out for yourself rather than bothering to argue)

sinister

 

So, this blog is just awesome. F’ing brilliant waste of bandwidth. Re-Inventing the wheel (two thousand years after the fact) has become common. It’s probably part of the reason why there has been so few posts as of late. Am sick of it. Even my HIGHER POWER being WAVELENGTHS and people on the same frequency of wavelength that I spent weeks thinking about…. After spending weeks trashing Tom Cruise, Scientology, Technology, every church in the known universe, and writing off DAN BROWN’s Di Vinci code child puzzles…. I come up with PEOPLE ON SAME WAVELENGTH as a god. But then that sounds boring. So it gets converted into other languages until a nice acronym is found using something from the middle east…. And then. Shit.  TESLA and EINSTEIN,. Fuck you TESLA and EINSTEIN. Unreal. You had similar details and diagrams last century or two? Can’t someone just let me have one original thought without claiming it was done years ago? Bastards, the lot of you.

There is the discovery that I was addicted to ZOPICLONE faster and with more detrimental effects than normal benzo’s such as halcion or valium. Many hours of thinking and processes later I presented my findings to the world by swearing a lot and calling Doctors fuck-wits for prescribing it. After telling people on the street about my experiences for years, one or two of the more astute actually did look it up themselves… And yes, not only was the theory correct, but six months later there are a few people admitting they thought I was full of shit but were too polite to tell me to shut the hell up. They found the theory correct. All by themselves. Many more examples available on request.

OMG OMG OMG OMG OH MY GOD
A NEW THOUGHT
ON BOATS RED IS PORT AND GREEN IS STAR-BORED.
Red may mean “returning to port – too useless” and GREEN “we are off Star-Bound… Exploring.
I think I think too much. I am not even going to look this up. EVER.
Please feel free to do so on your own time. But please don’t contact me with the answer.
Kind regards….

The world is changing. Just not fast enough.

The mainstream media is slowly but surely looking at underlying causes and issues of life.

Three pages in the local Saturday rag were dedicated to PORN and SEX amongst consenting couples. They had a good graffick, although the article was fluff. The graffick showed DOPAMINE. Not titties. No psychiatrist from the Wellington Addiction Service with a giant strap on dildo ready to penetrate addicts. Not even a group having soft porn sex.

No. Just a picture of DOPAMINE and it’s chemical structure.

This is amazing.

DOPAMINE is a good side effect of AMPHETAMINE usage.  It is why they give ADHD people really good pharmacy grade crystal meth. Dopamine is used by the front right lobe bit of your noggin to regulate the impulses sent from one of the very first bits of brain to ever work. Basically, let us say you have a fright. You have a FIGHT or FLIGHT response. You have a split second to think about it. Some of us don’t think too much at all. We just act.

DOPAMINE also has a lot to do with LOVE or REWARD. Food, really good sex, really bad sex, any sex, thinking you might get sex… These feelings are really DOPAMINE hitting that big marshmellow in your skull.

Again, rather than argue with me, just look it up and compare notes amongst yourself quietly in your own time…
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dopamine is a good start.

So, changing the world. One step at a time. 11 to go according to William and his big book.

I do my part constantly. I tell everyone whom will listen all about it. Constantly. I don’t break for breathing. Pauses in conversation. I don’t stop when knocked out and being operated on. The surgreons probably notice an hour or two gap in my monologue, but to me it is seamless.

Did you really trip over and hurt yourself if no one was there to witness it?

Hah hah bloody hah.

But, even I am sick of repeating stuff to addiction, medical, government types. And I don’t get sick easily.

JOURNALISM STUDENTS however. Different breed.

Sometimes there are people who have so little regard for their personal sanity that they email me via this insanely popular WordPress Blog. (Note to self – remember to use LOL’s and emoticons more regularly…)

A particularly courages Journalism student from Auckland went to all the trouble of going to Government OFFICIAL INFORMATION ACT (maybe she used the guide written on this blog!!! hahahaha) to get some information regarding the “OPIOID TREATMENT SERVICE” in New Zealand. OTS (shitty acronym, maybe they should have tried another language, although Bosnian doesn’t work — opijata službe tretmana results in OST – keep trying on your own time and get back to me….) is not OTS.

The first thing the student asked was lost as she mentioned OTD. Queue diatribe – “OTS is crap. There is no SERVICE and very little TREATMENT. OMD would work better. Opiate Maintenance DisService.”

After five minutes on the phone it was time for her to go and have a valium, a cranium massage and a long lay down in a sensory deprivation tank.

To her, and most earthlings, it was probably an hour.

Don’t know who invented time scales, but the Freemasons probably had nothing to do with it. Has someone already invented, or theorised, that time is relative?

Ass.

Over the five minutes I spent talking like a horse race announcer with a few too many coffee’s in his system, she learnt that addicts are “under performing economic units” with little hope of positive prognosis. We are given a concrete box to live in and a colour tv to watch. Governments the world over have big rugs to sweep problems under.

Governments will start valuing their countries differently. Citizens “HAPPY AVERAGE PERSON POPULATION INDEX” (HAPPI) rather than “GROSS DOMESTIC PRODUCT” (GDP) will become more economically responsible. A country with a good HAPPI index will automatically produce a much better GROSS PRODUCT. And more of them.

 

Did I mention my theories on how CAPITALISM will eventually fall into SOCIALISM as the MARKETS dominate governments and “CONSUMER WATCHDOGS” that prevent monopolies fail? Once you have many big monopolies (Vodafone, CBS, Sony and Ford, along with a few Freemason trust funds) calling the shots, the people have to step in and regulate the monopolies. If these corporations all had a proper and concrete understanding of corporate responsibility there would be no need for central government.

If an employees Mum was ill, the corporation would pay for her hospital bed.

If a road needed fixing so the employees could get to work, the corporation would fix it (with their own bulldozers and employees more than likely. You should see what CBS owns. Go look it up, on your own time.)

World markets and globalisation are at the very heart of the worlds addiction and disassociation (dislocation) epidemic. Gangs, lost souls, attention seeking via wrong methods……. All have a root in the degrading shit that makes up the soil of capitalism. 

AGAIN – Look it all up. BRUCE k ALEXANDER is a good place to start….
There are now copies in OTAGO medical research labs library, MASSEY universities, WELLINGTON PUBLIC…. yes folks – you can change the world. Importing one book at a time…

This poor journalism lass coped well. I have a sneaky suspicion she may have even agreed on some points.

She rang to discuss methadone treatments. She learnt that methadone treatments are shit. But, funny enough, drug addiction is shit too.

Being addicted to capitalism and trading in your wife for the receptionist, spending no time with your kids as you are too busy paying off the nannies new BMW X5… Well, I say give these capitalists some drugs and sell all their houses.

They will then ensure their kids get enough time to develop properly and avoid the pitfalls of the last fifty years of humanity. Lucky kids.

All great societies collapse eventually. Otherwise we would all be running around in white tunics saluting centurions on every second street corner.

Our society of trousers, miniskirts and saluting Vodafone 4G with our I-Phones on every second street corner may self implode in one great big drug fuelled binge. America may have to prostitute it’s own sweet fanny off to pay it’s drug debts to the East.

NZ will learn to speak mandarin in next to no time. Winston Peters will set up private charter schools for that exact purpose. 

And as for the Third Reich falling over… Adolf Hitler wasn’t on crystal meth day and night. No way. Hell no.

IT’S GOOD TO BE BACK

Sorry about writing another 2000 words in the space of two hours. Maybe I should find some dopamine, slow down a little and edit this work. Maybe I should at least research it a bit and put in some APA references. Maybe I should just shut up and turn the heater on, for it is freezing. I just know some of you journalist types will read this and not make sense of some bits. Some of the doctors and researchers who read this will never see the interesting bits as there is far too much garbage. I, myself, will not read it, preferring to maintain a fragile self esteem intact. I am one of the worlds best writers. And that is that. So there.

Actually am sorry to have taken so much time away from this sort of work. Although it may all be relative. 

A relatively good thing.

And we have a new RIGHT Government with a cack handed Prime Minster.

That really is sinister.

Been doing some stuff… Stuff is good.

Fuck me. What a week. Busy as all buggery. Busy as a bee. Busy as a buggered bee being chased by CCDHB mental health staff with their strap on dildos set to “super vibrate”

Monday worked on car all day.Had to work quick. Rain was coming and hole in roof and having no bonnet… Well… It ain’t rocket science.

Tuesday was spent sorting out a poster thing before doing kids football.

Wednesday. Uhm. Fucken too busy. Did not take notice of Wednesday.

Thursday. Oh shit. I was in court all day. Represented myself. I am a really shit lawyer. I did not open one single document before sitting in the court at 11am. I left court ar 3.30pm with the judge saying “I will reserve this decision until 8th September.” At one stage the Judge, the Prosecutor, the court typist and the Police cunt stable in the dock were all laughing with me. Representing yourself has some moments.

Some of those “laugh at me, or laugh with me” ones.

Fucken worth it. Even if the lawyer ….

(old “mate” from twenty years back whom has helped get me some “not guilties” and also got me into the high court for sentencing once — highly recommend that one too….. Got six months instead of two years as high court judges are more used to serious stuff… Managed to get District Court to decline jurisdiction. Awesome) 

Fucken worth it. Even if the lawyer …. May have thought it was incredibly silly not to open the documents until after the case had started. The prosecutor and the judge may have thought so too. But at the end of the day, the pig shits and the prosecutor really were looking very much like “oh shit”. Not like “smarmy” or “smart” or “confident” or “arrogant” in the slightest.

Dickheads. Just as I have some crap tattoo’s, the worlds shittest hair cut and have a little trouble opening envelopes for three months…… You think I am stupid?

Hahahahaha.

Don’t know if I can appeal for “really useless lawyering” after they find me guilty. Probably not. But what the fuck. Heard a few lawyers joking that I had missed my calling and should have been a lawyer. Idiots. I would have been bared and censored long ago. Maybe even shot by some Judge after blowing up her car.

😉

 

So, really. A lot of stuff done. Am getting to grips with this RITALIN crap. Am using slightly more than prescribed. Maybe 60 or 70mg a day rather than 50mg. But it is now 3am, and I’ve got to a point where I can stop working on the poster. Spent five hours doing that from 10pm. All afternoon was spent doing 3D graphics whilst kid proves she is MINECRAFT ANONYMOUS requirement. This morning was kids football coach.

2x1m graffix for Otago University presenting at a rather flash addiction conference. Wish I was going!

A preview of my 2x1m graffix for a local medical research university presenting at a rather flash addiction conference. Wish I was going!

 

A busy little life.

And not one “Hi, I am NZFIEND, and I am an addict” has passed my jaded old lips for three weeks.

You know what?

WHAT?

I feel BETTER for not being with a bunch of N.A members.

Bloody seriously?

They were a help for three months giving up and doing withdrawals.
But if this last week is anything to go by –

FUCK IDENTIFYING AS AN ADDICT.

Identify as a kids football coach. Identify as a mechanic. Identify as a designer. Identify as a helper, a giver, a candlestick maker. Identify as male prostitute.

 

Just don’t identify as an addict.

She’ll be right mate.

Rise and Fall of the Official View of Addiction

Rise and Fall of the Official View of Addiction

Bruce K. Alexander,

Professor Emeritus
Simon Fraser University
Revised January 17 2014

Worth a read. Some of you can. Those who give half a shit should click on the title. It is, cunningly, a link to something worth reading. Clever me.

I am too busy laughing my arse off at FIEND by  Peter Stenson to read anything half serious right now. 

 

You know what is really funny?

Just clicked on old video of Gabor giving a speech to corrections people in the land of the white obese (no – North America, not SYDNEY, Australia) … Since wanting to hear some shitty bit of music made by a band whom read Bruce’s GlobalizationOfAddiction (available in Wellington Otago Medical Library, Wellington City Libraries for those too ripped off by capitalism to afford their own copies) the amplifier got switched to COMPUTER from OLD P.I.L SECOND EDITION DOUBLE E.P (Vinyl – you know) …

I still think “disassociation” is a better term than “dislocation” but understand it may confuse all those proper people in psych field as they use it to describe events closer to home. Such as someone who stresses out and presents as hysterical maybe? That would be disassociating from self, from surroundings. 

Before ever reading a single thing about this subject, I figured disassociation was a key term in addiction. It is still valid. It is just that the bloody psych people bet me to it and the word has become to entrenched with different connotations. 

Anyhow….

So, there I was trying start a song, probably written by some dugged out hippy chick. I turn up the speakers.

I get this well respected voice quoting from a book combined with guitar and the (yes, I guessed correctly) hippy chick with no bra on singing some rather mundanely ironic Bruce K. dissertations.

Wow, I think stupidly, that is some sort of a wyrd mix. (wierd, wyrd, look it up yourselves…. WHATEVER!)

Turns out GABOR has been prattling on for thirty five minutes on YOUTUBE and this song is being played over the top.

“Connection” by the DockSreet Band, a song inspired by “The Globalization of Addiction”

Eminem I may be not.

Bloody interesting listening – YES.

” Nothing records the effects of a life as graphically as a human body ”
I am selling tickets to my autopsy. Line right up.