Currently Listening To: Set Your Goals: This Will Be The Death of Us
It has been almost a week since I had last talked with my buddy Terry. 10 hrs from now it will be exactly one week since I had gotten that horribly tragic phone call from my friend Cassie, trembling, telling me that she think my buddy Terry has pass away. I went onto facebook and Terry's "wall" had only a handful of 'RIP Terry' messages and I was so afraid that I nearly passed out. I called my mother sobbing and did not know what to tell her I just need to be consoled.
This week has been very up and down. Today is not any easier than yesterday. I just want to stop feeling horrible. I cannot stop thinking about you. Everything I do and see reminds me of you. I am really angry too. I wish could have done something...I am not saying I feel responsible. I just wish that you were able to tell me that shit was fucked up. Life is hard...Life is fucking pain! But everything in this life is temporary and pain is one of those things. Unfortunately, this tragedy is not temporary and this pain seems like it may never subside.
I miss you Terry Sukow...I will never forget about you and I will never forgive you.
Love,
Maddog
Monday, December 27, 2010
Thursday, December 23, 2010
My mother asked me to post this on Terry's "Wall"...
Currently Listening To: Heartsounds - Until We Surrender
...But Facebook would not allow me to post it because it contains too many characters...so I am posting here for her.
In this time of year when we are suppose to feel peace and joy, the news of Terry’s passing has brought us sadness and grief. I write to you, all of Terry’s friends, as a mother of one of you, our son, like many of you met Terry in college.
No doubt many of you have met parents like us. Parents of your friends. You bring your friends home to meet us. We welcome you, and because our kids like you, we automatically like you. We feed you, share stories of life, offer you a bed, or the sofa or the floor, we do your laundry, we like getting to know our kids friends. We get attached too! Please take care of yourselves. Take care of each other. If you are away from home and need anything, go to the parents of your friends. We are here for you and want to help you as we hope that our sons and daughters in other cities far away from home could go to your parents.
Loosing friends is very hard, losing a child is something all together different. If you are near Terry’s home town support his family…if you are far away help your friends who need you. Watch out for them, be their support.
Be safe. All my love, Robyn Marin, Madisson’s mother.
I hope everyone is doing alright and finding positive ways to cope with this tragedy...I love you and miss you all very much
Love,
Maddog
Monday, December 20, 2010
Goodbye Forever...
Currently Listening To: Saves The Day - Under The Boards
Dear Terry,
I didn't know that this life was so hard. I thought that we had discussed this and swore that no matter how bad it got we would never go to this place. But here I am, head in my hands, asking myself how I could have not seen this coming. As much as I want to be sad and just mourn you I cannot help but feel angry. I am angry that I cannot tell you how I feel about what you are putting us through.
Merry Christmas, indeed!
I will never forget the countless road trips, concerts, bars, and house parties where we went off. You helped me a lot over the years to get through the tough times...I will remember you often and smile. I feel blessed that I had the opportunity to spend quality time with you and really got to know you since we first meet during the early Marymount days. I miss you already Terry...my heart is broken. You have made an impact in my life that I can never forget. I love you brethren.
"Pictures fade away, but memory is forever...An empty chair at all the tables..." - NFG
Dear Terry,
I didn't know that this life was so hard. I thought that we had discussed this and swore that no matter how bad it got we would never go to this place. But here I am, head in my hands, asking myself how I could have not seen this coming. As much as I want to be sad and just mourn you I cannot help but feel angry. I am angry that I cannot tell you how I feel about what you are putting us through.
Merry Christmas, indeed!
I will never forget the countless road trips, concerts, bars, and house parties where we went off. You helped me a lot over the years to get through the tough times...I will remember you often and smile. I feel blessed that I had the opportunity to spend quality time with you and really got to know you since we first meet during the early Marymount days. I miss you already Terry...my heart is broken. You have made an impact in my life that I can never forget. I love you brethren.
"Pictures fade away, but memory is forever...An empty chair at all the tables..." - NFG
Wednesday, December 15, 2010
Nothing Dreadful...
Currently Listening To: Every Time I Die - Hot Damn!
Out of all the people I knew from high school, Taylor was one of the most well-mannered and friendly guys. He was not incredible social, but those that were close to him knew that he was genuine and would never do anything to bug another person. He was intelligent. When the teacher would call on him in class he was unafraid to speak up and he usually knew the right answer. He generally sat alone at lunch hour in the back of the cafeteria with his headphones on and his head down minding his own business. To me, he was just another character in a sea of personalities.
At school he was tormented. I do not understand why people feel the need to bully other people, but the jocks certainly "got off" on making Taylor's life a living hell and for no reason other than because he was a little different. The guys on the football team would go out of their way to shove him down in the hallways, throw half eaten apples and sandwiches at him during lunch hour, they even went as far as to mess with his P.E. locker, soaking his clothes in water so that he would have to endure the last two class periods with wet pants. I really felt bad for the guy and I told him that he should speak up for himself and try and get some help or some kind of protection for the mental and physical abuse he was taking on a daily basis, but he did not. He let the jocks get away with their actions and to be honest it really pissed me off.
The final straw came when the insensitive prick jocks decided to graffiti all over Taylor's book locker the words "Son of a whore", unknowing that his mom was an angel and had been going through a really tough time in her life, in and out of the hospital doing chemotherapy for stage 3 liver cancer for the past year. This tore Taylor up inside and he was not about to let some pea brained asshole offend his sick mother and get away with it. It was one thing to torment him, but going after his mother was just beyond him. This time he was going to get his revenge, but he was going to do it in the worst, most drastic way possible.
He went home that afternoon steaming mad. He was wanted to show those punks a lesson that they would never forget. After some very irrational thinking he decided that he was going to kill the jocks. He was going to bring his dads handguns to school and he was going to blow them away. At this point any other person would have talked themselves out of doing something so horrible, but he was emotionally drained and was so upset and hurt by their wrongdoings that he did not care of what the consequences would be. While Taylor's mother was out at the hospital having her weekly chemo done and his father at work, the boy snuck into his parents bed room and riffled through his dad's sock drawer until he came upon what he was looking for. He pulled out a large handgun, a Sig Sauer P250, which held .45 caliber hollow point frangible bullets; locked, loaded, and one in the chamber. He held the gun in his hand and stared at it for quite some time, contemplating what he was going to do. He was sure of himself and knew that the jocks had it coming to them. Taylor went back to his room with his dad's pistol and put it in his book bag. He had decided that come fourth period he was going to end three of the jocks lives and thus changing his life and everyone else in that specific class, not to mention the entire school.
The next day Taylor was scared, he was having second thoughts about what he was going to do to the phonies that dared to offend his sick mother. The time that he decided had come and he was so nervous that he was shaking noticeably in class and he was sure that the teacher and everyone around him knew what he was about to do. Sitting at his desk, Taylor reached down into his book bag and took hold of the weapon, but just as he was about to pull out the gun he heard an ear-splitting blast go off in the hallway just outside of the class room that shook the windows. Taylor let go of his grip on the pistol and looked around the room inquisitively at the surrounding people. Everyone was scared and had no idea what was going on. The teacher told everyone to stay put while she went to investigate what had happened just outside of her classroom. Just as she opened the door, the teacher let out a huge scream and began weeping hysterically. In the middle of the hallway the most popular girl in school, Lacey Chapman, lay face down in a pool of blood and grey matter, dead from a self-inflicted gunshot wound to the head. The school would learn latter that Lacey had gone off her meds and was under a lot of stress due to being the runner up for "Prom Queen".
Taylor went home later that day and returned the pistol to its rightful place. He was still unhappy with the way he had been treated, but he was going to be rational from then on and attempted to not take things so personally. High School was nearly over anyway and he knew that in a couple of weeks he would no longer have to endure the punkass jocks ever again.
I don't know where Taylor is now or what he is doing with his life, but I am sure that he has moved onto greater things.
(Thanks for reading everyone. I miss you all very much!!!)
Love Always,
Maddog
Out of all the people I knew from high school, Taylor was one of the most well-mannered and friendly guys. He was not incredible social, but those that were close to him knew that he was genuine and would never do anything to bug another person. He was intelligent. When the teacher would call on him in class he was unafraid to speak up and he usually knew the right answer. He generally sat alone at lunch hour in the back of the cafeteria with his headphones on and his head down minding his own business. To me, he was just another character in a sea of personalities.
At school he was tormented. I do not understand why people feel the need to bully other people, but the jocks certainly "got off" on making Taylor's life a living hell and for no reason other than because he was a little different. The guys on the football team would go out of their way to shove him down in the hallways, throw half eaten apples and sandwiches at him during lunch hour, they even went as far as to mess with his P.E. locker, soaking his clothes in water so that he would have to endure the last two class periods with wet pants. I really felt bad for the guy and I told him that he should speak up for himself and try and get some help or some kind of protection for the mental and physical abuse he was taking on a daily basis, but he did not. He let the jocks get away with their actions and to be honest it really pissed me off.
The final straw came when the insensitive prick jocks decided to graffiti all over Taylor's book locker the words "Son of a whore", unknowing that his mom was an angel and had been going through a really tough time in her life, in and out of the hospital doing chemotherapy for stage 3 liver cancer for the past year. This tore Taylor up inside and he was not about to let some pea brained asshole offend his sick mother and get away with it. It was one thing to torment him, but going after his mother was just beyond him. This time he was going to get his revenge, but he was going to do it in the worst, most drastic way possible.
He went home that afternoon steaming mad. He was wanted to show those punks a lesson that they would never forget. After some very irrational thinking he decided that he was going to kill the jocks. He was going to bring his dads handguns to school and he was going to blow them away. At this point any other person would have talked themselves out of doing something so horrible, but he was emotionally drained and was so upset and hurt by their wrongdoings that he did not care of what the consequences would be. While Taylor's mother was out at the hospital having her weekly chemo done and his father at work, the boy snuck into his parents bed room and riffled through his dad's sock drawer until he came upon what he was looking for. He pulled out a large handgun, a Sig Sauer P250, which held .45 caliber hollow point frangible bullets; locked, loaded, and one in the chamber. He held the gun in his hand and stared at it for quite some time, contemplating what he was going to do. He was sure of himself and knew that the jocks had it coming to them. Taylor went back to his room with his dad's pistol and put it in his book bag. He had decided that come fourth period he was going to end three of the jocks lives and thus changing his life and everyone else in that specific class, not to mention the entire school.
The next day Taylor was scared, he was having second thoughts about what he was going to do to the phonies that dared to offend his sick mother. The time that he decided had come and he was so nervous that he was shaking noticeably in class and he was sure that the teacher and everyone around him knew what he was about to do. Sitting at his desk, Taylor reached down into his book bag and took hold of the weapon, but just as he was about to pull out the gun he heard an ear-splitting blast go off in the hallway just outside of the class room that shook the windows. Taylor let go of his grip on the pistol and looked around the room inquisitively at the surrounding people. Everyone was scared and had no idea what was going on. The teacher told everyone to stay put while she went to investigate what had happened just outside of her classroom. Just as she opened the door, the teacher let out a huge scream and began weeping hysterically. In the middle of the hallway the most popular girl in school, Lacey Chapman, lay face down in a pool of blood and grey matter, dead from a self-inflicted gunshot wound to the head. The school would learn latter that Lacey had gone off her meds and was under a lot of stress due to being the runner up for "Prom Queen".
Taylor went home later that day and returned the pistol to its rightful place. He was still unhappy with the way he had been treated, but he was going to be rational from then on and attempted to not take things so personally. High School was nearly over anyway and he knew that in a couple of weeks he would no longer have to endure the punkass jocks ever again.
I don't know where Taylor is now or what he is doing with his life, but I am sure that he has moved onto greater things.
(Thanks for reading everyone. I miss you all very much!!!)
Love Always,
Maddog
Monday, December 13, 2010
Reoccurring Grey...
Currently Listening To: Nuns With Guns - EP
Dear My Blog,
I am really sorry I have not been good to you lately. I have been ignoring you for some time now and I really do not feel good about that. It's not that I do not like you anymore (in fact, I love you). I have just been having trouble finding the inspiration to log on and write stories. I forgot that I started this blog to not only create and share my writing, but to use the platform as a release and a place to let out my feelings and emotions. i have to learn that you are not just for story telling. I just feel that the people reading are more interested in the fucked up kids at NDNU rather than my rantings on how "lame" my life is. I will try and take better care of you in the future. I guess it is also in part due to my new job and thus I am more tired and lethargic, but that is no excuse! If I am ever going to become a successful writer I must not put off updating on here. Thank you for putting up with me. I love you.
I hope that everyone has been having a nice December! This past week was very good. Got a lot done in terms of work. Since I started in the last week of November I have been getting more hours and have been receiving very positive feedback from those ranking above me. I am liking my job at Souplantation a lot! Although the job is not very hard it is very rewarding to serve people and make sure everyone of our guests has a wonderful meal. Cant wait to get my hands on that first pay check next week.
Night All!!! Tune in soon for a new creative writing piece...
Dear My Blog,
I am really sorry I have not been good to you lately. I have been ignoring you for some time now and I really do not feel good about that. It's not that I do not like you anymore (in fact, I love you). I have just been having trouble finding the inspiration to log on and write stories. I forgot that I started this blog to not only create and share my writing, but to use the platform as a release and a place to let out my feelings and emotions. i have to learn that you are not just for story telling. I just feel that the people reading are more interested in the fucked up kids at NDNU rather than my rantings on how "lame" my life is. I will try and take better care of you in the future. I guess it is also in part due to my new job and thus I am more tired and lethargic, but that is no excuse! If I am ever going to become a successful writer I must not put off updating on here. Thank you for putting up with me. I love you.
I hope that everyone has been having a nice December! This past week was very good. Got a lot done in terms of work. Since I started in the last week of November I have been getting more hours and have been receiving very positive feedback from those ranking above me. I am liking my job at Souplantation a lot! Although the job is not very hard it is very rewarding to serve people and make sure everyone of our guests has a wonderful meal. Cant wait to get my hands on that first pay check next week.
Night All!!! Tune in soon for a new creative writing piece...
Saturday, December 4, 2010
It Wasn't Gravity...It Was The Witches!
Currently Listening To: Latin For Truth - Eleven Eleven
Hello December...we meet again! I cannot believe that we are already here!!! I really feel like 2010 just started, but we are now getting ready to bring in a new year. I would just like to recall some import events that were very significant in my life which occurred over the last 11 months:
1) January: Spring Classes begin at NDNU (my last semester as an undergrad/pick my topic for my senior thesis).
2) February: Graduation Application Accepted!
3) March: External HD stolen from computer lab at school containing my research and first five pages of my thesis.
4) April: The Bohemian Publication Party (one of our best publications to date, we put our hearts and souls into creating this years journal and we are damn proud of it!).
5) May: College Graduation!!!!! (an hour later we were on a plane heading to Vegas to celebrate) and I finally got out of the "madhouse" I was living in put my stuff in a storage unit and go to live on the couch at the "trailer" in Redwood City.
6) June: Vans Warped Tour begins at the end of June (I would be gone for two months on the road traveling with the Riverboat Gamblers, selling skateboards for Hooligan Skate).
7) July: In the thick of it...getting into the grove of touring and having surreal life experiences every day (got to see Mama and Papa Marin in Orlando).
8) August: Warped Tour ends mid month...hang out in LA for a week than head back to the Bay. Currently living back on the couch at the "trailer" in Redwood City.
9) September: Start this blog (saves my sanity). Life is not to easy living on a couch.
10) October: Invited to live in San Diego county with Aunt Noella and Uncle Ted. I move mid-month (First time I sleep in a proper bed since May).
11) November: Hang out in Florida for a week. Aunt Maria and Mike marry on Siesta Key. I turn 24 (new laptop obtained)!! Acquire job at Souplantation. First Thanksgiving away from Home.
And now here we are...December. Another first for me is coming up pretty soon. Last year was the first time that the Marin's did not spend the Christmas holiday together. Although, I was fortunate to spend almost 2 weeks hanging out with my brother Alex at his old house in IV, in PV with the Arwin's crazy Persian family, and up in the Bay in Redwood City. It was a really great time to say the least. I feel like Alex and I were able to reconnect as brothers and since then we have not been closer.
This year I will not be spending it with any one in the Marin family. Since I just got this awesome job at Souplantation I don't want take off work so soon. I want to carve myself a niche and establish myself within the politics of the establishment, haha. I will be having Christmas here in Carlsbad, which is not a horrible thing to be honest.Tomorrow we are going to get our tree and for the first time since I really cannot remember when I will be decorating a Christmas Tree. For the first time I am really getting into the Christmas spirit. Yesterday I was taking my first look for gifts I want to get for my close friends and family. I don't know about singing along to any Christmas songs, but I will definitely be belting out The Vandals 'Oi To The World' album on the regular!
This past week I started my new job and I have been really digging it. The management has been noticing that I enjoy to work and I am pumped to be there. I am going to be the best floor staff member that I can be! I am starting to make some new friends through working and that is also making me super happy, finally!
I am so looking forward to what 2011 has in store for me. I hope that it was as good as this year! I miss my friends in the Bay and I miss my family in Florida!
Hello December...we meet again! I cannot believe that we are already here!!! I really feel like 2010 just started, but we are now getting ready to bring in a new year. I would just like to recall some import events that were very significant in my life which occurred over the last 11 months:
1) January: Spring Classes begin at NDNU (my last semester as an undergrad/pick my topic for my senior thesis).
2) February: Graduation Application Accepted!
3) March: External HD stolen from computer lab at school containing my research and first five pages of my thesis.
4) April: The Bohemian Publication Party (one of our best publications to date, we put our hearts and souls into creating this years journal and we are damn proud of it!).
5) May: College Graduation!!!!! (an hour later we were on a plane heading to Vegas to celebrate) and I finally got out of the "madhouse" I was living in put my stuff in a storage unit and go to live on the couch at the "trailer" in Redwood City.
6) June: Vans Warped Tour begins at the end of June (I would be gone for two months on the road traveling with the Riverboat Gamblers, selling skateboards for Hooligan Skate).
7) July: In the thick of it...getting into the grove of touring and having surreal life experiences every day (got to see Mama and Papa Marin in Orlando).
8) August: Warped Tour ends mid month...hang out in LA for a week than head back to the Bay. Currently living back on the couch at the "trailer" in Redwood City.
9) September: Start this blog (saves my sanity). Life is not to easy living on a couch.
10) October: Invited to live in San Diego county with Aunt Noella and Uncle Ted. I move mid-month (First time I sleep in a proper bed since May).
11) November: Hang out in Florida for a week. Aunt Maria and Mike marry on Siesta Key. I turn 24 (new laptop obtained)!! Acquire job at Souplantation. First Thanksgiving away from Home.
And now here we are...December. Another first for me is coming up pretty soon. Last year was the first time that the Marin's did not spend the Christmas holiday together. Although, I was fortunate to spend almost 2 weeks hanging out with my brother Alex at his old house in IV, in PV with the Arwin's crazy Persian family, and up in the Bay in Redwood City. It was a really great time to say the least. I feel like Alex and I were able to reconnect as brothers and since then we have not been closer.
This year I will not be spending it with any one in the Marin family. Since I just got this awesome job at Souplantation I don't want take off work so soon. I want to carve myself a niche and establish myself within the politics of the establishment, haha. I will be having Christmas here in Carlsbad, which is not a horrible thing to be honest.Tomorrow we are going to get our tree and for the first time since I really cannot remember when I will be decorating a Christmas Tree. For the first time I am really getting into the Christmas spirit. Yesterday I was taking my first look for gifts I want to get for my close friends and family. I don't know about singing along to any Christmas songs, but I will definitely be belting out The Vandals 'Oi To The World' album on the regular!
This past week I started my new job and I have been really digging it. The management has been noticing that I enjoy to work and I am pumped to be there. I am going to be the best floor staff member that I can be! I am starting to make some new friends through working and that is also making me super happy, finally!
I am so looking forward to what 2011 has in store for me. I hope that it was as good as this year! I miss my friends in the Bay and I miss my family in Florida!
Saturday, November 27, 2010
Night Howler...
Currently Listening To: Crime In Stereo - I Was Trying To Describe You To Someone
I was walking down the street the other day going to my favorite coffee shop when I came upon a crumbled up piece of paper lying in the gutter if the street. Normally I would not have picked it up or paid it any attention, but I felt something inside of me telling me that I need to look at what was written on this random piece of trash.
I picked it up, unraveled it, and my eyes started to scan the dirty paper. It was some sort of note written by some anonymous person. It described a person who was being held in captivity, being tortured and starved. I don't know whether or not this was something real or fake, but it freaked me out non the less. This is what the note had written on it...
It has been 17 days since the last time I have seen the outside world. 17 days without a shower. 17 days without saying a word to another person and I don't know how long this misery is going to last for...This is my 17th journal entry and I do not know how many more I will be able to write. I just hope that someone, somewhere will read my scribblings. I wish I could tell you where I am, but I do not know how I came to be locked in the room.
What I can tell you is that the last place I was seen was at the Oceanside WestField Mall hanging out with my girlfriend doing some very early Christmas shopping. We left the mall late at night and I remember walking back to the car, but something happened. I was hit on the head and was knocked unconscious and I woke up in this shithole, I thought my apartment was bad.
The room that I am in is very dark and extremely filthy, it smells of urine and rotten food and there are no windows, just a door with a slot in it where I receive my daily rations. I am sure that whoever took me also has my girlfriend, but I am unable to be sure because I have been screaming out her name without any response. The light in the center of the room hangs down from the ceiling and flickers on and off consistently day and night. I actually cannot be sure when it is day or night because I have no view of the outside world, but I use it as a reference to describe to you. There is no bed in here, just a twin sized mattress, no blanket.
I get fed twice a day through the slot: beans, bread, and water. Very small portions, but I generally do not eat it. I drink the water and leave the food. There is no proper place for me to go to the bathroom, a hole in the ground is where i do my business. I have investigated every inch of this holding cell and there is no way of escaping this nightmare. I tried multiple times to end my life by taking the spoon that is provided for me across my writs and bleed out, but I cannot succeed in breaking the skin due to my lack of nutrition.
I was surprised to find this notebook and pencil. I am even more surprised that I have the strength to keep writing. I feel as if I am on my last days here. I miss my family and I wish that I could be with them right now. I know that I was not the best son and I caused some acrimony in home life, but I love my family and would do anything to be with them again.
I guess this will be it for now...I hope that I will be able to wake tomorrow and continue this journal...
And the note ended there. I sat on the curb holding this note, a single tear rolled down my cheek. I didn't know what to do at that point. Was this someone's sick joke or was this for real? I put the note into my pocket and went to finally got my coffee, but my mind was racing. What was I going to do? I sat and pondered over it while sipping my hot brew. I came to the conclusion that I was going to take it to the police station.
At the station I was able to speak with a detective and I told him what I had found and handed over the note. He was reluctant and I knew that it would be difficult to have a conversation with him. After he reviewed it he looked at me and asked if I liked wasting tax payer money. He saw the note as some joke and did not take me seriously. For all I know the detective probably thought I had written the note and was trying to make him go on some wild goose chase. He told me to get lost...I left the station worried and angry.
I still have the note. I keep it in my notebook and carry it with me everywhere. I am so sorry I could not help you. I tried my best and was turned away. I will use this note as inspiration and I will recall it often.
I was walking down the street the other day going to my favorite coffee shop when I came upon a crumbled up piece of paper lying in the gutter if the street. Normally I would not have picked it up or paid it any attention, but I felt something inside of me telling me that I need to look at what was written on this random piece of trash.
I picked it up, unraveled it, and my eyes started to scan the dirty paper. It was some sort of note written by some anonymous person. It described a person who was being held in captivity, being tortured and starved. I don't know whether or not this was something real or fake, but it freaked me out non the less. This is what the note had written on it...
It has been 17 days since the last time I have seen the outside world. 17 days without a shower. 17 days without saying a word to another person and I don't know how long this misery is going to last for...This is my 17th journal entry and I do not know how many more I will be able to write. I just hope that someone, somewhere will read my scribblings. I wish I could tell you where I am, but I do not know how I came to be locked in the room.
What I can tell you is that the last place I was seen was at the Oceanside WestField Mall hanging out with my girlfriend doing some very early Christmas shopping. We left the mall late at night and I remember walking back to the car, but something happened. I was hit on the head and was knocked unconscious and I woke up in this shithole, I thought my apartment was bad.
The room that I am in is very dark and extremely filthy, it smells of urine and rotten food and there are no windows, just a door with a slot in it where I receive my daily rations. I am sure that whoever took me also has my girlfriend, but I am unable to be sure because I have been screaming out her name without any response. The light in the center of the room hangs down from the ceiling and flickers on and off consistently day and night. I actually cannot be sure when it is day or night because I have no view of the outside world, but I use it as a reference to describe to you. There is no bed in here, just a twin sized mattress, no blanket.
I get fed twice a day through the slot: beans, bread, and water. Very small portions, but I generally do not eat it. I drink the water and leave the food. There is no proper place for me to go to the bathroom, a hole in the ground is where i do my business. I have investigated every inch of this holding cell and there is no way of escaping this nightmare. I tried multiple times to end my life by taking the spoon that is provided for me across my writs and bleed out, but I cannot succeed in breaking the skin due to my lack of nutrition.
I was surprised to find this notebook and pencil. I am even more surprised that I have the strength to keep writing. I feel as if I am on my last days here. I miss my family and I wish that I could be with them right now. I know that I was not the best son and I caused some acrimony in home life, but I love my family and would do anything to be with them again.
I guess this will be it for now...I hope that I will be able to wake tomorrow and continue this journal...
And the note ended there. I sat on the curb holding this note, a single tear rolled down my cheek. I didn't know what to do at that point. Was this someone's sick joke or was this for real? I put the note into my pocket and went to finally got my coffee, but my mind was racing. What was I going to do? I sat and pondered over it while sipping my hot brew. I came to the conclusion that I was going to take it to the police station.
At the station I was able to speak with a detective and I told him what I had found and handed over the note. He was reluctant and I knew that it would be difficult to have a conversation with him. After he reviewed it he looked at me and asked if I liked wasting tax payer money. He saw the note as some joke and did not take me seriously. For all I know the detective probably thought I had written the note and was trying to make him go on some wild goose chase. He told me to get lost...I left the station worried and angry.
I still have the note. I keep it in my notebook and carry it with me everywhere. I am so sorry I could not help you. I tried my best and was turned away. I will use this note as inspiration and I will recall it often.
Saturday, November 20, 2010
Don't Let Her Bring You Down...
Currently Listening To: Between The Buried and Me - S/T
Today is a soggy, cold, and dreary day in Southern California and I thought that I was going to be able to stay out of the miserable weather, but I was totally wrong.
Yesterday I had my orientation at Souplantation (mostly signing paperwork) where my boss told me that I had to get the proper, non-slip footwear in order to do my job properly and safely, so I decided that I would go out to Payless and pick up a pair today (Saturday).
I put on a jacket (not weather-proof) and took a stole down the street to catch the bus. As I walked outside I noticed that there was only a light drizzle and the clouds over head were not too menacing, so I was not worried about having to stand and wait for the bus to come and take me up the street to the shopping center. I waited at the bus stop for a good 10 minutes and the bus had not come yet, but I stood there confident, even though the bus was late I knew that it would come and I would soon be out of the cold and on my way.
Finally, I saw the bus coming up the street and I smiled, happy that I was going to safe from the elements momentarily. As the bus came closer I stood near the curb (as to be seen easily) and got my change ready. The bus driver without thinking twice about it passed right by me and I stood there in shock watching the bus speed off to where ever it was going. "Did that just happen?", I said to myself out loud. Just as I began to walk toward the shopping center, pissed off like no ones business, it began to pour down on me, perfect! I kept on walking, becoming soaked to the bone and I looked up to the heavens and I yelled out, "When does it get easier?" After what seemed like an eternity, the rain stopped. I was still about a mile away, but I was not about to turn around. I had a mission to complete and I wasn't going to let a lousy bus driver ruin my day. I sucked it up and walked into the closest coffee shop (Coffee Bean) and got myself a small drip, used some napkins to dry my hair and continued on.
I made it to the store and it only took me five minutes to find the proper fitting shoes and I was soon back on my way home. Luckily, it did not rain on my walk home and I was incredible thankful for that.
Sometimes life presents us with challenges and lately I have had to overcome many. Even though I wanted to give up I had to persevere. I almost let the weather and a bus driver get the best of me, but I called my dad and as usual he gave me great advice and told me to continue on my path and to keep doing the right thing. Even though life gets difficult, doing the right thing will pay off in the end. I let it go and and I am happy that I am all set with work uniform.
On a lighter note I am going to share a wee nugget of joy with you that comes in the form of an internet conversation between my good friend Ana and myself...
Today is a soggy, cold, and dreary day in Southern California and I thought that I was going to be able to stay out of the miserable weather, but I was totally wrong.
Yesterday I had my orientation at Souplantation (mostly signing paperwork) where my boss told me that I had to get the proper, non-slip footwear in order to do my job properly and safely, so I decided that I would go out to Payless and pick up a pair today (Saturday).
I put on a jacket (not weather-proof) and took a stole down the street to catch the bus. As I walked outside I noticed that there was only a light drizzle and the clouds over head were not too menacing, so I was not worried about having to stand and wait for the bus to come and take me up the street to the shopping center. I waited at the bus stop for a good 10 minutes and the bus had not come yet, but I stood there confident, even though the bus was late I knew that it would come and I would soon be out of the cold and on my way.
Finally, I saw the bus coming up the street and I smiled, happy that I was going to safe from the elements momentarily. As the bus came closer I stood near the curb (as to be seen easily) and got my change ready. The bus driver without thinking twice about it passed right by me and I stood there in shock watching the bus speed off to where ever it was going. "Did that just happen?", I said to myself out loud. Just as I began to walk toward the shopping center, pissed off like no ones business, it began to pour down on me, perfect! I kept on walking, becoming soaked to the bone and I looked up to the heavens and I yelled out, "When does it get easier?" After what seemed like an eternity, the rain stopped. I was still about a mile away, but I was not about to turn around. I had a mission to complete and I wasn't going to let a lousy bus driver ruin my day. I sucked it up and walked into the closest coffee shop (Coffee Bean) and got myself a small drip, used some napkins to dry my hair and continued on.
I made it to the store and it only took me five minutes to find the proper fitting shoes and I was soon back on my way home. Luckily, it did not rain on my walk home and I was incredible thankful for that.
Sometimes life presents us with challenges and lately I have had to overcome many. Even though I wanted to give up I had to persevere. I almost let the weather and a bus driver get the best of me, but I called my dad and as usual he gave me great advice and told me to continue on my path and to keep doing the right thing. Even though life gets difficult, doing the right thing will pay off in the end. I let it go and and I am happy that I am all set with work uniform.
On a lighter note I am going to share a wee nugget of joy with you that comes in the form of an internet conversation between my good friend Ana and myself...
Ana: I have to type 10 pgs on the anthropological perspective of garbage...gahhhhh
Me: If you need some one to edit your paper for you I could do it, its kind of what I got my degree in
Ana: No way, what's your degree in?
Me: English
Ana: Oh hahaha I thought you meant trash
Me: hahahahaaha
I guess the point of me posting this conversation is to emphasize how much I miss being in school. I would go out of my way to edit and fix up my friends papers for school and why not? I love to do it. I miss having to write papers as crazy as it sounds. I cannot wait until I have the opportunity to go back to school and begin my masters program. It is my dream to go back within the next five years and eventually become a high school English teacher. If any one reads this and needs help with their papers I could be of service. I will not type your paper for you (that would be cheating), but I would not mind editing it for you, just give me a shout.
I hope everyone is having a nice, relaxing weekend. Be easy!
With love,
Madisson
Sunday, November 14, 2010
"Do You Know Who You Are..."
Currently Listening To: Dangers - Messy Isn't It (www.wearedangers.com)
So here we are again...I am not going to be telling any outlandish story about Notre Dame de Namur (sorry they have been so dark, I promise the next one will be a little bit more cheerful) because I have something else on my mind tonight.
I was trying to contact an old friend of mine (doesn't matter who) and I was having trouble getting a response from this person. So, I decided to "break up" with this person and I just spent the last 20 minutes writing several paragraphs to this person telling them why I did not want to be their friend any more (not that we talked much these days) and forget every good memory we made together. I have tried several times to reach out to said person and I have either gotten the "I have been sooo busy..." bullshit or no response at all. We were really tight at one point and now I cannot even get the time of day. I know that I should have been more civil about the things I put in the letter, but I wanted to let said person how i felt and that I am not happy with our current relationship. I am not sure that it was the right thing to do, but i did it and I do not regret sending it.
What I do regret is letting it get to this point. It is probably my fault, but I have tried to reach out and keep our relationship alive somewhat, but some where along the way I gave up, I didn't want to chase some one that wasn't going to respond to me. I guess said person is better off without a crazy asshole like me in their life. Even though this person has added some fuel to my literary fire and I could write something really nasty about this person on here, I am not. I am going to end it here by saying...
Dear ______, Thank you for everything in the past that you have done for me. I hope that your life in _______ is great, I know that you are studying hard and living it up. I wish I could give you one last hug, but I wouldn't let you go. I would squeeze your slender body till I heard your ribs crack and then drop you to the floor and smash your face with my raging fists till it was caved in and nothing but pulp. And I would laugh and laugh and laugh and scream, "Are you happy now are you happy, you dumb ______! Thanks for nothing!!" as your body twitches involuntarily from the brutal beating I wailed down on you.
(Disclaimer: I would just like everyone who reads this regularly to know that that scenario would never happen. I am generally a very peaceful person and I honestly could not hurt any one in real life. But, as many of you know I have a devilishly wild imagination and watch to many horror movies for my own good. Please do not be frightened by the violence portrayed in the previous paragraph please. Thank you.)
On a lighter note, I have been very busy trying to get a job this past week. I filled 27 job apps and had 6 interviews since last Wednesday. I have a second interview tomorrow at "Souplantation" and I am almost positive I will lock it down. I am also working on moving out of Aunt Noella and Ted's place and I think I will be able to do this very soon. Besides that nothing else is going on with me. Just trying to stay fit, eat right (even though I have had two dank breakfast burritos from Rudy's in the past two days) and mentally strong. Some may say that my little outburst above is not positive or strong, but it is my way of letting out emotion. Some people smoke pot and just forget it, some dwell on it and let it ruin their week (or month), but I acknowledge it and move on. I also want to mention that I am officially obsessed with using Skype. Now that I have a rad laptop (thanks mama and papa) I try and do it every day. So far I have Skyped: Natasha w/ Shane OP and Jessica, The Dude, Melissa (who is in France), Courtney (who is in Austria) and of all people in the world, Fred, hahaha, even though it didn't work that well.
Just finish reading Bret Easton Ellis's "American Psycho" and I am now onto Greg Graffin's "Anarchy Evolution". I am looking forward to this week. It is going to be a good one.
I miss you, I wish I were near you...
Always & Forever,
Madisson
So here we are again...I am not going to be telling any outlandish story about Notre Dame de Namur (sorry they have been so dark, I promise the next one will be a little bit more cheerful) because I have something else on my mind tonight.
I was trying to contact an old friend of mine (doesn't matter who) and I was having trouble getting a response from this person. So, I decided to "break up" with this person and I just spent the last 20 minutes writing several paragraphs to this person telling them why I did not want to be their friend any more (not that we talked much these days) and forget every good memory we made together. I have tried several times to reach out to said person and I have either gotten the "I have been sooo busy..." bullshit or no response at all. We were really tight at one point and now I cannot even get the time of day. I know that I should have been more civil about the things I put in the letter, but I wanted to let said person how i felt and that I am not happy with our current relationship. I am not sure that it was the right thing to do, but i did it and I do not regret sending it.
What I do regret is letting it get to this point. It is probably my fault, but I have tried to reach out and keep our relationship alive somewhat, but some where along the way I gave up, I didn't want to chase some one that wasn't going to respond to me. I guess said person is better off without a crazy asshole like me in their life. Even though this person has added some fuel to my literary fire and I could write something really nasty about this person on here, I am not. I am going to end it here by saying...
Dear ______, Thank you for everything in the past that you have done for me. I hope that your life in _______ is great, I know that you are studying hard and living it up. I wish I could give you one last hug, but I wouldn't let you go. I would squeeze your slender body till I heard your ribs crack and then drop you to the floor and smash your face with my raging fists till it was caved in and nothing but pulp. And I would laugh and laugh and laugh and scream, "Are you happy now are you happy, you dumb ______! Thanks for nothing!!" as your body twitches involuntarily from the brutal beating I wailed down on you.
(Disclaimer: I would just like everyone who reads this regularly to know that that scenario would never happen. I am generally a very peaceful person and I honestly could not hurt any one in real life. But, as many of you know I have a devilishly wild imagination and watch to many horror movies for my own good. Please do not be frightened by the violence portrayed in the previous paragraph please. Thank you.)
On a lighter note, I have been very busy trying to get a job this past week. I filled 27 job apps and had 6 interviews since last Wednesday. I have a second interview tomorrow at "Souplantation" and I am almost positive I will lock it down. I am also working on moving out of Aunt Noella and Ted's place and I think I will be able to do this very soon. Besides that nothing else is going on with me. Just trying to stay fit, eat right (even though I have had two dank breakfast burritos from Rudy's in the past two days) and mentally strong. Some may say that my little outburst above is not positive or strong, but it is my way of letting out emotion. Some people smoke pot and just forget it, some dwell on it and let it ruin their week (or month), but I acknowledge it and move on. I also want to mention that I am officially obsessed with using Skype. Now that I have a rad laptop (thanks mama and papa) I try and do it every day. So far I have Skyped: Natasha w/ Shane OP and Jessica, The Dude, Melissa (who is in France), Courtney (who is in Austria) and of all people in the world, Fred, hahaha, even though it didn't work that well.
Just finish reading Bret Easton Ellis's "American Psycho" and I am now onto Greg Graffin's "Anarchy Evolution". I am looking forward to this week. It is going to be a good one.
I miss you, I wish I were near you...
Always & Forever,
Madisson
Thursday, November 11, 2010
Fatal Attractions...
Currently Listening To: Such Gold - Stand Tall EP
Now...lets get to the real juicy stuff...the reason why you all actually read this thing (thank you for doing so), yet another strange story from the lovely campus in dreary, old Belmont, CA, Notre Dame de Namur University.
If you are or every have been a student at NDNU, you know about the random "hook-ups" that take place around campus. On any given night you would be able to hear something going on in someones dorm room. I remember this one night standing outside a second floor New Hall room (these peoples names will be withheld for the sake of embarrassment), music blaring and the sound of two people really laying into one another. It was awkward and after a few chuckles I went about my business.
The most memorable couple I remember from campus was a strange one to say the least. This involves a girl named Lilian Havily and the guy named Blaze Kesler. Now, just to give you a little background on these people, they were extremely socially awkward. They did not talk to anyone else around campus, they ate every single meal together in the back of the cafe, they even scheduled ALL their classes together so they never had to be apart. The reason why I know all of this is because Blaze had a room in my New Hall dorm. I knew Blaze was "different" because the first time we meet he walked into our New Hall common area and moved straight toward his room, head down and slammed the door behind him, saying nothing. I didn't even get the opportunity to introduce myself. I stood there for a moment, scratched my head and returned to getting my room situated. While I was doing this I thought to myself that the kid is just shy and I he will open up to one of these days. I was wrong.
Blaze and Lilian meet during Freshman orientation. They were perfect for each other. They were both into being anti-social, consistently only wore black clothing, and loved to fuck to the band Nine Inch Nails. It was not long before Lilian was spending every single night in Blaze's dorm room. I could hear them every night banging and to be completely honest, it was disturbing. Instead of hearing passionate moans I heard screams as if some one was being tortured and it was obvious they did not care who was hearing them because this happened all the time. It would keep me up at night and when I would finally get to sleep the screams would be there in my nightmares. I finally went to student services to consult with the head of student life about my issue, but as usual she told me to try and figure it out myself and talk with Blaze. That never happened. Every time I tried to talk to him he was never there or he would ignore my knocks on his door (his door was always closed and he was very private). I would go around campus looking for him but he was nowhere to be found and I was getting pissed off to say the least. I knew that I would just have to suck it up for two more weeks before I could request a room change.
I was hanging out with my friend Stephanie, listening to good pop punk music (Daggermouth and Living With Lions to be precise) and drinking cheap champagne. I was telling her about what a nightmare it was to live with Blaze and she could not believe what I had to endure. She excused herself to use our restroom, but as soon as she left my room she returned and she said that Blaze's door was open. I jumped out of my seat, nearly spilling over the bottle of cheap booze and grabbed her wrist and lead he over to the mysterious room. I moved slowly as I cracked the door open inch by inch and discovered that the two weirdos were not present, they were probably off preforming some kind of animal sacrifice. The room was completely covered in some kind of black wall paper. The room smelt of some kind of rubber or latex. Blaze's bed was lofted just enough to have his chest of drawers under it. I, being the curious one, began to snoop around the tiny room looking around for anything out of place and my eye fell upon some black leather strap hanging out of one of the drawers. I opened to drawer and my jaw dropped onto the floor (that's a metaphor people). I do not know if any of you are familiar with BDSM (Bondage, Discipline, Sado-Masochism), but it was now clear what was happening in this room. I did my best not to disturb anything because I did not want Blaze to know I had been in his room, but from just eyeballing the drawer I saw his sexual implements: metal handcuffs, leather collars, a "spider gag", nipple clamps, a cock harness, ball stretchers, bondage tape, a slave mask, fist mitts, knee pads, a flogger, and Ben Wa balls. Stephanie and I had enough of this freak show, so I closed the drawer and exited the room how we found it. We went back to my room and filled our glasses and came to the conclusion that what ever kind of relationship they were engaged in was dangerous and it would not be to long before one of them gets really hurt from their bizarre sexual rituals. We were right.
About a week later, Friday night around 11pm, I was with Stephanie and we heard screaming coming from Blaze's room, not unusual, but this time it was different. It was screaming and intense weeping and coughing and pleading. We walked into the middle of the common area and we stood there very worried and I realized that this non-sense had gone on long enough. I stepped outside and called "Public Safety" on my cell phone and told them that my roommate and his girlfriend were causing a disturbance. They said they would be along in a couple minutes to help me out. Stephanie and I stood in the middle of the common area staring at the door trying to imagine what was going on in that room, but neither of us could have guessed what was actually taking place. All the sudden Blaze's room was quiet and this disturbed me even more, I grabbed Stephanie's hand I could tell she was scared and then there was a knock on the front door that made us jump. I lead the two safety officers to Blaze's door and they rapped on his door with a forceful knock. A voice called out saying that every thing was fine, but they were not satisfied, they wanted to speak face to face. The voice said not to disturb the couple, but the safety officer decided to open the door with his all access key to talk to them. They opened the door and began to yell. I moved toward the door and looked into the room and saw Blaze on his bed straddling a lifeless, bloody body. The couples sexual practices had become too tame and they had started to experiment with "sexual cutting". The point of this was to lightly drag a knife (in this case a razor) across a body part to draw a little bit of blood to induce sexual arousal. But Blaze became too greedy with the blade. He began slicing deeper and deeper into his lover, Lilian, but did not know the extent of his cutting would end up killing the poor girl. He had sliced her up and down her back, along the inner part of her thighs and arms. She was screaming, but he took these cries of pain as screams of pleasure and he went into a sexual frenzy. They pulled Blaze down from the bed and grabbed him some clothes from the floor and immediately called the police. Stephanie ran out of the room, but I stood near Blaze's doorway in shock. I moved passed the threshold and stood on a chair to view Lilian's lifeless body, blood pooling in the center of the bed, her eyes starring straight into mine. I left the room and joined Stephanie outside, holding her and we cried. I can still see Lilian's dead eyes starring at me in my dreams to this day.
Now...lets get to the real juicy stuff...the reason why you all actually read this thing (thank you for doing so), yet another strange story from the lovely campus in dreary, old Belmont, CA, Notre Dame de Namur University.
If you are or every have been a student at NDNU, you know about the random "hook-ups" that take place around campus. On any given night you would be able to hear something going on in someones dorm room. I remember this one night standing outside a second floor New Hall room (these peoples names will be withheld for the sake of embarrassment), music blaring and the sound of two people really laying into one another. It was awkward and after a few chuckles I went about my business.
The most memorable couple I remember from campus was a strange one to say the least. This involves a girl named Lilian Havily and the guy named Blaze Kesler. Now, just to give you a little background on these people, they were extremely socially awkward. They did not talk to anyone else around campus, they ate every single meal together in the back of the cafe, they even scheduled ALL their classes together so they never had to be apart. The reason why I know all of this is because Blaze had a room in my New Hall dorm. I knew Blaze was "different" because the first time we meet he walked into our New Hall common area and moved straight toward his room, head down and slammed the door behind him, saying nothing. I didn't even get the opportunity to introduce myself. I stood there for a moment, scratched my head and returned to getting my room situated. While I was doing this I thought to myself that the kid is just shy and I he will open up to one of these days. I was wrong.
Blaze and Lilian meet during Freshman orientation. They were perfect for each other. They were both into being anti-social, consistently only wore black clothing, and loved to fuck to the band Nine Inch Nails. It was not long before Lilian was spending every single night in Blaze's dorm room. I could hear them every night banging and to be completely honest, it was disturbing. Instead of hearing passionate moans I heard screams as if some one was being tortured and it was obvious they did not care who was hearing them because this happened all the time. It would keep me up at night and when I would finally get to sleep the screams would be there in my nightmares. I finally went to student services to consult with the head of student life about my issue, but as usual she told me to try and figure it out myself and talk with Blaze. That never happened. Every time I tried to talk to him he was never there or he would ignore my knocks on his door (his door was always closed and he was very private). I would go around campus looking for him but he was nowhere to be found and I was getting pissed off to say the least. I knew that I would just have to suck it up for two more weeks before I could request a room change.
I was hanging out with my friend Stephanie, listening to good pop punk music (Daggermouth and Living With Lions to be precise) and drinking cheap champagne. I was telling her about what a nightmare it was to live with Blaze and she could not believe what I had to endure. She excused herself to use our restroom, but as soon as she left my room she returned and she said that Blaze's door was open. I jumped out of my seat, nearly spilling over the bottle of cheap booze and grabbed her wrist and lead he over to the mysterious room. I moved slowly as I cracked the door open inch by inch and discovered that the two weirdos were not present, they were probably off preforming some kind of animal sacrifice. The room was completely covered in some kind of black wall paper. The room smelt of some kind of rubber or latex. Blaze's bed was lofted just enough to have his chest of drawers under it. I, being the curious one, began to snoop around the tiny room looking around for anything out of place and my eye fell upon some black leather strap hanging out of one of the drawers. I opened to drawer and my jaw dropped onto the floor (that's a metaphor people). I do not know if any of you are familiar with BDSM (Bondage, Discipline, Sado-Masochism), but it was now clear what was happening in this room. I did my best not to disturb anything because I did not want Blaze to know I had been in his room, but from just eyeballing the drawer I saw his sexual implements: metal handcuffs, leather collars, a "spider gag", nipple clamps, a cock harness, ball stretchers, bondage tape, a slave mask, fist mitts, knee pads, a flogger, and Ben Wa balls. Stephanie and I had enough of this freak show, so I closed the drawer and exited the room how we found it. We went back to my room and filled our glasses and came to the conclusion that what ever kind of relationship they were engaged in was dangerous and it would not be to long before one of them gets really hurt from their bizarre sexual rituals. We were right.
About a week later, Friday night around 11pm, I was with Stephanie and we heard screaming coming from Blaze's room, not unusual, but this time it was different. It was screaming and intense weeping and coughing and pleading. We walked into the middle of the common area and we stood there very worried and I realized that this non-sense had gone on long enough. I stepped outside and called "Public Safety" on my cell phone and told them that my roommate and his girlfriend were causing a disturbance. They said they would be along in a couple minutes to help me out. Stephanie and I stood in the middle of the common area staring at the door trying to imagine what was going on in that room, but neither of us could have guessed what was actually taking place. All the sudden Blaze's room was quiet and this disturbed me even more, I grabbed Stephanie's hand I could tell she was scared and then there was a knock on the front door that made us jump. I lead the two safety officers to Blaze's door and they rapped on his door with a forceful knock. A voice called out saying that every thing was fine, but they were not satisfied, they wanted to speak face to face. The voice said not to disturb the couple, but the safety officer decided to open the door with his all access key to talk to them. They opened the door and began to yell. I moved toward the door and looked into the room and saw Blaze on his bed straddling a lifeless, bloody body. The couples sexual practices had become too tame and they had started to experiment with "sexual cutting". The point of this was to lightly drag a knife (in this case a razor) across a body part to draw a little bit of blood to induce sexual arousal. But Blaze became too greedy with the blade. He began slicing deeper and deeper into his lover, Lilian, but did not know the extent of his cutting would end up killing the poor girl. He had sliced her up and down her back, along the inner part of her thighs and arms. She was screaming, but he took these cries of pain as screams of pleasure and he went into a sexual frenzy. They pulled Blaze down from the bed and grabbed him some clothes from the floor and immediately called the police. Stephanie ran out of the room, but I stood near Blaze's doorway in shock. I moved passed the threshold and stood on a chair to view Lilian's lifeless body, blood pooling in the center of the bed, her eyes starring straight into mine. I left the room and joined Stephanie outside, holding her and we cried. I can still see Lilian's dead eyes starring at me in my dreams to this day.
Thursday, November 4, 2010
"Throwing Away My Empty Cup..."
Currently Listening To: Sundowner - Four One Five Two
I know, I know...Another full week without me updating on here. I am not going to apologize because I have been quite busy and I know I have let down my readers who have expectations of me and I will tell you that you need to loose your expectations. If you do not have expectations you will never be let down...think about it.
I am going to say something here and I know that I will get criticised for it because people very close to me read this and they care about me and will ask me whats wrong...I am sick and tired of being alone. It seems that everyone these days has someone special in his or her life and I am super jealous. I know that you cannot just solve a problem like that easily, but it is just distressing. I want someone to hold and be all mine. I am not seeking anything fake, like sex and something purely physical. I want someone to confide in, someone to be there for me when I need to get out my frustration and understand me. People will say, "Madisson, you are just going through a phase and it will pass. What you are feeling is only temporary..." This "temporary" feeling has been around for long enough to still get on my nerves. I am happy I moved to San Diego and I have some stability in my life...but I am so fucking lonely!
On a lighter note, I am in Florida with the family and I couldn't be happier getting this opportunity to spend time with them. I haven't been back to visit since last March and it feels great. I have been doing yoga ever morning with Ma since I got here and eating delicious food, and boating and just having fun before I have to go to my monotonous life in San Diego. I am still jobless and it makes me feel like shit. When I get back I have to make getting a job my job. I thank God that I have my extended family supporting me, giving me a place to live and all, but I feel like I am wearing on my Aunt's life. She and her husband haven't been married all that long and know with me being there I feel as if I am imposing on their lives. They would tell you that they love having me, but they cannot deny that they would rather be alone and me living close by in my own apartment. I am giving myself another couple months, four at the most and them I have to get out and give them their normal, quiet lives back.
Next week, Tuesday, will be my 24th birthday and I am a little excited for that. I am just happy to be alive today and I thank God (and Ma and Papa) every day for this life and the air I breathe and the birds in the air and the sun that beats down from the sky that kisses my tan skin. My birthday will be just like every other day except a little more sweet.
I miss my friends dearly (Shane OP, The Dude, Omar, Fred, Natasha, Steph, Nikki P, Cole Travis, Skyler, Katie, Alex Pond, Sam Dotts, A-Rose, DROCK, Rikki, Haley... too many more to put down here) You guys are missed quite dearly and it kills me that I don't get to see you everyday...I would say that we are together in spirit, but that is not good enough for me and I cannot express in words how I truly feel about you guys...
Always,
Maddog
I know, I know...Another full week without me updating on here. I am not going to apologize because I have been quite busy and I know I have let down my readers who have expectations of me and I will tell you that you need to loose your expectations. If you do not have expectations you will never be let down...think about it.
I am going to say something here and I know that I will get criticised for it because people very close to me read this and they care about me and will ask me whats wrong...I am sick and tired of being alone. It seems that everyone these days has someone special in his or her life and I am super jealous. I know that you cannot just solve a problem like that easily, but it is just distressing. I want someone to hold and be all mine. I am not seeking anything fake, like sex and something purely physical. I want someone to confide in, someone to be there for me when I need to get out my frustration and understand me. People will say, "Madisson, you are just going through a phase and it will pass. What you are feeling is only temporary..." This "temporary" feeling has been around for long enough to still get on my nerves. I am happy I moved to San Diego and I have some stability in my life...but I am so fucking lonely!
On a lighter note, I am in Florida with the family and I couldn't be happier getting this opportunity to spend time with them. I haven't been back to visit since last March and it feels great. I have been doing yoga ever morning with Ma since I got here and eating delicious food, and boating and just having fun before I have to go to my monotonous life in San Diego. I am still jobless and it makes me feel like shit. When I get back I have to make getting a job my job. I thank God that I have my extended family supporting me, giving me a place to live and all, but I feel like I am wearing on my Aunt's life. She and her husband haven't been married all that long and know with me being there I feel as if I am imposing on their lives. They would tell you that they love having me, but they cannot deny that they would rather be alone and me living close by in my own apartment. I am giving myself another couple months, four at the most and them I have to get out and give them their normal, quiet lives back.
Next week, Tuesday, will be my 24th birthday and I am a little excited for that. I am just happy to be alive today and I thank God (and Ma and Papa) every day for this life and the air I breathe and the birds in the air and the sun that beats down from the sky that kisses my tan skin. My birthday will be just like every other day except a little more sweet.
I miss my friends dearly (Shane OP, The Dude, Omar, Fred, Natasha, Steph, Nikki P, Cole Travis, Skyler, Katie, Alex Pond, Sam Dotts, A-Rose, DROCK, Rikki, Haley... too many more to put down here) You guys are missed quite dearly and it kills me that I don't get to see you everyday...I would say that we are together in spirit, but that is not good enough for me and I cannot express in words how I truly feel about you guys...
Always,
Maddog
Wednesday, October 27, 2010
San Francisco Is Burning...
Currently Listening To: YouMeAtSix - Hold Me Down
Hey everyone! Hope yr week is going well! My job hunt is coming along...slowly, but surely. Had a job interview earlier this week for a retail job down the road in Solana Beach. I am hoping to hear back from the manager there by Friday, crossing my fingers. I would also like to update you on my new writing job...I have begun to post for a website called Examiner.com. I am writing for them about local non-corporate owned coffee shops in my area. So far I have posted two articles and you can find those here: http://www.examiner.com/coffeeshop-in-san-diego/a-latte-more
Do me a favor and subscribe to my page...it will help get me more money for my articles (thanks dad!!!)
Anyway, for the real reason I am here...I was trying to think of something to write about and I figured NDNU has been taking too much heat so I will share a true story about a trip into San Francisco and a classic example of being in the wrong place a the right time...
Last fall, Sept. 2009, I was visiting the bay area. After a long (mostly frustrating) day of traveling from Napa to San Francisco, which is a whole other story, a friend of mine invited me to hang out with her for the afternoon. Alenna was out at some park near the Mission and I had some time to kill before my flight back to La, so I hopped on the BART and got off at 16th and Mission to meet up with her. When I finally found her, amongst the dirty homeless Mission people, we picked up a six pack of Anchor Steam (SF's finest brew) and headed off up the street to enjoy some music in the park and catch up. The park was a total scene: people everywhere dancing around, playing soccer, throwing frisbees, smoking pot, eating "magic" mushrooms, drinking beer, being weird...you know a typical Sunday in the park. After a couple hours of schmoozing and people watching we decided that it was time to go.
Walking back towards the BART i realized that I really had not had anything decent to eat and it was going to be some time before I was home in LA so I figured I had time for a quick bite so we walked back down to 16th and Mission and made a right, looking for something quick to eat. We stumbled upon a Chinese restaurant/doughnut shop/hangout and looked over the menu. After realizing that there was no English on the menu I decided to just look through the display and just eyeball something tasty. I chose a dish that I believed to be some type of yummy, Chinese noodles. I ordered the food from a little asian woman who didn't speak English so I just pointed to the dish I wanted and she began packing a little take out box with the food. to my delight my meal plus a Pepsi cost only $2! What a deal right!!?!?
Alenna and I sat down at a table at the front of the establishment, seated across from each other, my back to a big glass front window and to my direct left the front entrance. i opened up the small box of food and began to dig in. I took a big bite of the noddles and came to realize that i did not order any fancy Asian dish, but a fairly simply made spaghetti, like they probably boiled the noddles and took a can of Prego and called it what ever the hell they wanted to call it. I just laughed to myself and shared this hilarity with Alenna who was also taken aback at how strange the place was, but wait....that's not even the good part...
So as I am trying to enjoy the mediocre meal, I notice some interesting looking people at the front of the store, one tall gentleman with a scraggly beard and a walking stick and a super skinny black woman, most likely a local crack head. If you have ever traveled to San Fran you know that it is not really a big deal seeing weird people or stuff happen, but today was different. All of the sudden there was a lot of commotion and two cars sped up and bumped into the curb. Plain clothes police officers were standing outside the vehicles, weapons drawn, closing in on the guy with the walking stick, yelling, "Put your fucking hands up!" "Drop the cane, what is this bullshit?" "We have been watching you, we know you don't need that shit!" Other people near the scene scatter, mostly crack heads not wanting to deal with the law. They get this guy down on the ground and begin to search him very fast. Mind you, I am still sitting in the restaurant as all of this is going down not five feet away from me. They are asking the guy where his "stuff" is and they don't find anything on him immediately, but they cuff him anyway and take him away in one of the unmarked vehicles. This all went down in a matter of 2 minutes!
After the cops were gone, I noticed a couple of crack heads outside the Chinese restaurant, again about 5 feet away, hunched over, scouring the ground for the precious drugs, the dealer may or may not have dropped before he got nabbed. It was quite a sit to see these people look on the sidewalk for nothing, bent over taping their finger on the floor and then putting that finger to their mouths trying to get high off of anything. What was even more strange was that no one in the restaurant seemed to care what was going on outside, just another "normal" day in the Mission. Alenna and I looked at each other and didn't really know what to say, but we laughed uncomfortably, finished our small meal and then made our way back to the BART station because it was my time to leave.
I will never forget that day...I truly love San Francisco because it is a city with so much to offer, strange food, stranger people, and always good laughs!
Thanks for reading today...i love a miss you all (you know who you are)
humbly yours,
maddog
Hey everyone! Hope yr week is going well! My job hunt is coming along...slowly, but surely. Had a job interview earlier this week for a retail job down the road in Solana Beach. I am hoping to hear back from the manager there by Friday, crossing my fingers. I would also like to update you on my new writing job...I have begun to post for a website called Examiner.com. I am writing for them about local non-corporate owned coffee shops in my area. So far I have posted two articles and you can find those here: http://www.examiner.com/coffeeshop-in-san-diego/a-latte-more
Do me a favor and subscribe to my page...it will help get me more money for my articles (thanks dad!!!)
Anyway, for the real reason I am here...I was trying to think of something to write about and I figured NDNU has been taking too much heat so I will share a true story about a trip into San Francisco and a classic example of being in the wrong place a the right time...
Last fall, Sept. 2009, I was visiting the bay area. After a long (mostly frustrating) day of traveling from Napa to San Francisco, which is a whole other story, a friend of mine invited me to hang out with her for the afternoon. Alenna was out at some park near the Mission and I had some time to kill before my flight back to La, so I hopped on the BART and got off at 16th and Mission to meet up with her. When I finally found her, amongst the dirty homeless Mission people, we picked up a six pack of Anchor Steam (SF's finest brew) and headed off up the street to enjoy some music in the park and catch up. The park was a total scene: people everywhere dancing around, playing soccer, throwing frisbees, smoking pot, eating "magic" mushrooms, drinking beer, being weird...you know a typical Sunday in the park. After a couple hours of schmoozing and people watching we decided that it was time to go.
Walking back towards the BART i realized that I really had not had anything decent to eat and it was going to be some time before I was home in LA so I figured I had time for a quick bite so we walked back down to 16th and Mission and made a right, looking for something quick to eat. We stumbled upon a Chinese restaurant/doughnut shop/hangout and looked over the menu. After realizing that there was no English on the menu I decided to just look through the display and just eyeball something tasty. I chose a dish that I believed to be some type of yummy, Chinese noodles. I ordered the food from a little asian woman who didn't speak English so I just pointed to the dish I wanted and she began packing a little take out box with the food. to my delight my meal plus a Pepsi cost only $2! What a deal right!!?!?
Alenna and I sat down at a table at the front of the establishment, seated across from each other, my back to a big glass front window and to my direct left the front entrance. i opened up the small box of food and began to dig in. I took a big bite of the noddles and came to realize that i did not order any fancy Asian dish, but a fairly simply made spaghetti, like they probably boiled the noddles and took a can of Prego and called it what ever the hell they wanted to call it. I just laughed to myself and shared this hilarity with Alenna who was also taken aback at how strange the place was, but wait....that's not even the good part...
So as I am trying to enjoy the mediocre meal, I notice some interesting looking people at the front of the store, one tall gentleman with a scraggly beard and a walking stick and a super skinny black woman, most likely a local crack head. If you have ever traveled to San Fran you know that it is not really a big deal seeing weird people or stuff happen, but today was different. All of the sudden there was a lot of commotion and two cars sped up and bumped into the curb. Plain clothes police officers were standing outside the vehicles, weapons drawn, closing in on the guy with the walking stick, yelling, "Put your fucking hands up!" "Drop the cane, what is this bullshit?" "We have been watching you, we know you don't need that shit!" Other people near the scene scatter, mostly crack heads not wanting to deal with the law. They get this guy down on the ground and begin to search him very fast. Mind you, I am still sitting in the restaurant as all of this is going down not five feet away from me. They are asking the guy where his "stuff" is and they don't find anything on him immediately, but they cuff him anyway and take him away in one of the unmarked vehicles. This all went down in a matter of 2 minutes!
After the cops were gone, I noticed a couple of crack heads outside the Chinese restaurant, again about 5 feet away, hunched over, scouring the ground for the precious drugs, the dealer may or may not have dropped before he got nabbed. It was quite a sit to see these people look on the sidewalk for nothing, bent over taping their finger on the floor and then putting that finger to their mouths trying to get high off of anything. What was even more strange was that no one in the restaurant seemed to care what was going on outside, just another "normal" day in the Mission. Alenna and I looked at each other and didn't really know what to say, but we laughed uncomfortably, finished our small meal and then made our way back to the BART station because it was my time to leave.
I will never forget that day...I truly love San Francisco because it is a city with so much to offer, strange food, stranger people, and always good laughs!
Thanks for reading today...i love a miss you all (you know who you are)
humbly yours,
maddog
Saturday, October 23, 2010
No Sssweat...
Currently Listening To: Evergreen Terrace - Almost Home
I am sorry everyone for ignoring my blog this past week. I know that you expect me to be posting everyday, but it has become difficult to do that since I am trying to get my life going here in Carlsbad.
Everyday, I have been walking down to the local shopping centers, applying to as many jobs as possible. When I was still in Redwood City I had nothing to do but focus on my writing. But since being here, my new main focus is obtaining a job. My writing is still very important to me, but paying off a certain debt has become my new number one priority.
To let everyone know, I just got hired for a very part-time position, writing for an online magazine call Examiner.com. I am doing some freelance writing about local, non-corporate coffee houses. Yesterday, I went up the road about 3 miles a took critique a shop called La Costa Coffee Roasting. I took some notes, snapped a couple photos, and enjoyed a latte while I decided on what I was going to report to everyone. I finally got it all together and posted my finding last night. I am still waiting for my editor to look over my work so it can finally be published for all of you to read. I will let you know as soon as it is cleared. I am very excited about taking on this job, even though it does not pay very much. it allows me to be creative and informative and I get to drink a lot of coffee!
Since my new writing gig does not pay very much, I am still looking for another source of income. I have a job interview for a retail position on Monday morning and I also went to a local resort and applied for a full time "Men's Locker Room Attendant" position. So things are coming along. Just trying to keep my head up and realize that soon, someone will hire the Maddog.
On a stranger note, I was watching the Soup late last night and they were commenting on a new show called "Sister Wives". The show is about a Polygamist man married to four women who are all sisters. I am seriously weirded out by this! I mean, where will the television networks draw the line! If this is OK to show on TV then I think I will pitch my own show to one of these backward ass networks. My new show is called, "Incest". The main focus is about daughters and sons who have sexual relationships with their parents, (sister "loves" daddy/mommy "loves" son). Of course they will not be true stories and everyone will be actors, but I really think I have something here. If it is the norm to show a man with four wives who are all directly related, then I should have no problem selling my show and getting it picked up for at least a 10 show series. I know the show would be a total success because people are messed up in the head and would watch something as depraved as this.
Since today is Saturday, I will not be out looking for work. I am giving myself the day off to watch College football and probably watch a few horror films. Too bad it is not warm enough to go to the beach.
I hope everyone is well. I love and miss you all (you know who you are)! Gulf Coast in about a week!
yr friend,
Madisson
I am sorry everyone for ignoring my blog this past week. I know that you expect me to be posting everyday, but it has become difficult to do that since I am trying to get my life going here in Carlsbad.
Everyday, I have been walking down to the local shopping centers, applying to as many jobs as possible. When I was still in Redwood City I had nothing to do but focus on my writing. But since being here, my new main focus is obtaining a job. My writing is still very important to me, but paying off a certain debt has become my new number one priority.
To let everyone know, I just got hired for a very part-time position, writing for an online magazine call Examiner.com. I am doing some freelance writing about local, non-corporate coffee houses. Yesterday, I went up the road about 3 miles a took critique a shop called La Costa Coffee Roasting. I took some notes, snapped a couple photos, and enjoyed a latte while I decided on what I was going to report to everyone. I finally got it all together and posted my finding last night. I am still waiting for my editor to look over my work so it can finally be published for all of you to read. I will let you know as soon as it is cleared. I am very excited about taking on this job, even though it does not pay very much. it allows me to be creative and informative and I get to drink a lot of coffee!
Since my new writing gig does not pay very much, I am still looking for another source of income. I have a job interview for a retail position on Monday morning and I also went to a local resort and applied for a full time "Men's Locker Room Attendant" position. So things are coming along. Just trying to keep my head up and realize that soon, someone will hire the Maddog.
On a stranger note, I was watching the Soup late last night and they were commenting on a new show called "Sister Wives". The show is about a Polygamist man married to four women who are all sisters. I am seriously weirded out by this! I mean, where will the television networks draw the line! If this is OK to show on TV then I think I will pitch my own show to one of these backward ass networks. My new show is called, "Incest". The main focus is about daughters and sons who have sexual relationships with their parents, (sister "loves" daddy/mommy "loves" son). Of course they will not be true stories and everyone will be actors, but I really think I have something here. If it is the norm to show a man with four wives who are all directly related, then I should have no problem selling my show and getting it picked up for at least a 10 show series. I know the show would be a total success because people are messed up in the head and would watch something as depraved as this.
Since today is Saturday, I will not be out looking for work. I am giving myself the day off to watch College football and probably watch a few horror films. Too bad it is not warm enough to go to the beach.
I hope everyone is well. I love and miss you all (you know who you are)! Gulf Coast in about a week!
yr friend,
Madisson
Tuesday, October 19, 2010
Crisis Averted...
Currently Listening To: Off With Their Heads - All Things Move Toward Their End
Another story from the infamous campus of Notre Dame De Namur University. I wonder if the school cares whether or not I share these stories with you...
Tommy woke up one morning in his bed in his dorm on the third floor of SJ feeling, well, less than perfect. He was a pretty normal student, really no different from you or me. He enjoyed skateboarding, fast music, and fast women. The only problem with the kid was not on the surface, but what lies beneath. Tommy had been diagnosed with clinical depression about a year ago. He was seeing the school therapist every week to talk about his feeling and try and find a way for him to not feel so bad. He didn't have a reason to be sad. He had friends who cared about him and loving parents that would drop everything to help their son. But sometimes depression cannot be explained so easily because it is a mental health issue, something in Tommy's brain was not right. He tried doing the whole medication thing, but he didn't like the way the meds made him feel, numb. Without consulting the doctor, he took himself off the medication (20mg Lexapro once a day), he decided that he would try and manage his problems without prescription drugs and get proactive in his treatment.
He was doing really well for a while, but some days were harder to cope. So that particular morning, while his roommate, Dave, was out of the room he would take his life. He began contemplating the different ways he could take himself out. His first thought was to drown himself in the school pool. He would gather as many rocks as he could and stuff them into his pockets and sink to the bottom of the deep end. He figured that it would take a long time and that he didn't really want to be in that kind of pain. His next thought was to jump off the forth floor of Ralston Hall, but he knew that it would be hard to get to the top of the mansion without being caught and told to get down by some type of authority figure, so that idea was nixt. He thought about poisoning himself, recalling Jim Jones and the Peoples Temple. He would drink Kool-Aid laced with cyanide, but then realized that he didn't even know where he could score the harmful poison. He was finding that it was not as easy to kill himself as he first thought, but he was determined to do something.
He finally made the decision that he was going to hang himself. He went to his closet and grabbed one of his neck ties and tied it firmly around his neck. He grabbed his desk chair and moved to the middle of the room. He placed the chair under the light fixture, stood on the chair and tied the loose end to the light. He tied the tie good and tight, looked around the room for a moment and then kicked the chair out from under his feet. His body dangled from the ceiling, his feet kicked about under him just a foot above the ground. His face began to turn red immediately and he was choking violently. But before he could kill himself, the fixture gave way from the weight of his body and he feel to the floor. He lay their for a moment, in shock. He was going to have to explain to Dave why the light was broken and realized that that was going to be an awkward conversation. He gathered himself up and moved over to his bed and opened his nightstand drawer. He reached in a pulled out a medium sized pocket knife and put the blade to his wrist. But just as he was about to slice into his arm, there was a knock on the door. Frightened by the knock, he threw the knife across the room, stood up from his bed, fixed his hair in the mirror, and yelled to the person behind the door to be patient, he would be their in a moment.
Tommy opened the door and to his surprise it was a girlfriend of his that he had a crush on since first coming to NDNU. Christie told him that Dave told her to go grab him because they were all going to Half Moon Bay for the day and wanted to know if he wanted to come along. He rubbed the back of his neck and thought for a moment. Looking at Christie, Tommy realized that he did have something to live for, or at least that day, grabbed his coat hanging on the wall and closed the door behind him. This life could be tolerated for at least one more day.
NDNU is a pretty messed up place. I know it seems like there are no positive stories about the school but there are, these just seem to be more interesting.
If you or someone you know is danger of hurting themselves, take action now. There are people in this world that you can contact if you are in need.
love,
maddog
Another story from the infamous campus of Notre Dame De Namur University. I wonder if the school cares whether or not I share these stories with you...
Tommy woke up one morning in his bed in his dorm on the third floor of SJ feeling, well, less than perfect. He was a pretty normal student, really no different from you or me. He enjoyed skateboarding, fast music, and fast women. The only problem with the kid was not on the surface, but what lies beneath. Tommy had been diagnosed with clinical depression about a year ago. He was seeing the school therapist every week to talk about his feeling and try and find a way for him to not feel so bad. He didn't have a reason to be sad. He had friends who cared about him and loving parents that would drop everything to help their son. But sometimes depression cannot be explained so easily because it is a mental health issue, something in Tommy's brain was not right. He tried doing the whole medication thing, but he didn't like the way the meds made him feel, numb. Without consulting the doctor, he took himself off the medication (20mg Lexapro once a day), he decided that he would try and manage his problems without prescription drugs and get proactive in his treatment.
He was doing really well for a while, but some days were harder to cope. So that particular morning, while his roommate, Dave, was out of the room he would take his life. He began contemplating the different ways he could take himself out. His first thought was to drown himself in the school pool. He would gather as many rocks as he could and stuff them into his pockets and sink to the bottom of the deep end. He figured that it would take a long time and that he didn't really want to be in that kind of pain. His next thought was to jump off the forth floor of Ralston Hall, but he knew that it would be hard to get to the top of the mansion without being caught and told to get down by some type of authority figure, so that idea was nixt. He thought about poisoning himself, recalling Jim Jones and the Peoples Temple. He would drink Kool-Aid laced with cyanide, but then realized that he didn't even know where he could score the harmful poison. He was finding that it was not as easy to kill himself as he first thought, but he was determined to do something.
He finally made the decision that he was going to hang himself. He went to his closet and grabbed one of his neck ties and tied it firmly around his neck. He grabbed his desk chair and moved to the middle of the room. He placed the chair under the light fixture, stood on the chair and tied the loose end to the light. He tied the tie good and tight, looked around the room for a moment and then kicked the chair out from under his feet. His body dangled from the ceiling, his feet kicked about under him just a foot above the ground. His face began to turn red immediately and he was choking violently. But before he could kill himself, the fixture gave way from the weight of his body and he feel to the floor. He lay their for a moment, in shock. He was going to have to explain to Dave why the light was broken and realized that that was going to be an awkward conversation. He gathered himself up and moved over to his bed and opened his nightstand drawer. He reached in a pulled out a medium sized pocket knife and put the blade to his wrist. But just as he was about to slice into his arm, there was a knock on the door. Frightened by the knock, he threw the knife across the room, stood up from his bed, fixed his hair in the mirror, and yelled to the person behind the door to be patient, he would be their in a moment.
Tommy opened the door and to his surprise it was a girlfriend of his that he had a crush on since first coming to NDNU. Christie told him that Dave told her to go grab him because they were all going to Half Moon Bay for the day and wanted to know if he wanted to come along. He rubbed the back of his neck and thought for a moment. Looking at Christie, Tommy realized that he did have something to live for, or at least that day, grabbed his coat hanging on the wall and closed the door behind him. This life could be tolerated for at least one more day.
NDNU is a pretty messed up place. I know it seems like there are no positive stories about the school but there are, these just seem to be more interesting.
If you or someone you know is danger of hurting themselves, take action now. There are people in this world that you can contact if you are in need.
love,
maddog
Sunday, October 17, 2010
We May be Through With The Past...
Currently Listening To: A Day To Remember - Homesick
Hey everyone. I am sorry I have not been posting like I should. I guess I have been really sidetracked by my job hunt. It is really leaving me feeling exhausted and hopeless. I had no idea how difficult it was going to be to obtain a job doing ANYTHING. At this point, I really don't care what I do. I need to start making money and fast. I have too much debt hanging over my head. It's not keeping me from sleeping at night, but it does worry me. I am not giving up on my job hunt though, I just have to take a new approach.
Other than that, everything I good. I got a haircut this week. First time I have actually had a hairstyle in the last four years, I generally just take clippers and buzz my head myself, but I wanted something different...something new. I like it a lot! I am enjoying life here in San Diego. I wish the weather was better though. It has been overcast since I got here. No sign of the sun unfortunately. It kind of bums me out because I want to go to the beach sooo bad.
I really need to find some new motivation to write...I don't want this blog to turn into something where I am just talking about myself. I like to write fiction...help me out! Give me an idea because i have none.
I miss my friends, I miss my family, I miss the trailer, I miss being on tour. And most importantly I miss you....
humbly yours,
madisson
Hey everyone. I am sorry I have not been posting like I should. I guess I have been really sidetracked by my job hunt. It is really leaving me feeling exhausted and hopeless. I had no idea how difficult it was going to be to obtain a job doing ANYTHING. At this point, I really don't care what I do. I need to start making money and fast. I have too much debt hanging over my head. It's not keeping me from sleeping at night, but it does worry me. I am not giving up on my job hunt though, I just have to take a new approach.
Other than that, everything I good. I got a haircut this week. First time I have actually had a hairstyle in the last four years, I generally just take clippers and buzz my head myself, but I wanted something different...something new. I like it a lot! I am enjoying life here in San Diego. I wish the weather was better though. It has been overcast since I got here. No sign of the sun unfortunately. It kind of bums me out because I want to go to the beach sooo bad.
I really need to find some new motivation to write...I don't want this blog to turn into something where I am just talking about myself. I like to write fiction...help me out! Give me an idea because i have none.
I miss my friends, I miss my family, I miss the trailer, I miss being on tour. And most importantly I miss you....
humbly yours,
madisson
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
Do You Feel Better Yet?
Currently Listening To: The Swellers - Ups and Downsizing
Had a funny conversation just a little bit ago (I thought it was funny at least) and I wanted to share a part of it with you all:
Had a funny conversation just a little bit ago (I thought it was funny at least) and I wanted to share a part of it with you all:
Me: i understand...if you wanted to move in with me here in sd that would be sick...finding a job wouldn't be hard for you. Yr gorgeous and have a great personality. BOOM! There you go...job handled!
Liz: hah but im not the stickk thin girls that they hire
Me: yr crazy...you dont need to be...
Me: look at me im short and mildly attractive and not very muscular
Liz: lmao!
im fucking average as hell!
Liz: hah but im not the stickk thin girls that they hire
Me: yr crazy...you dont need to be...
Me: look at me im short and mildly attractive and not very muscular
Liz: lmao!
im fucking average as hell!
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
I've Had It Up To Here...
Currently Listening To: Born of Osiris - A Higher Place
So the past couple of days I have not been feeling so hot. Since I stopped smoking cigarettes (for the millionth time) cold turkey after Saturday night I have developed an annoying cough and soar throat. The other, more disgusting part, is all of the black mucus in my lungs I have been coughing up, the gross liquid coating my throat and mouth with the taste of charred cat shit. Besides that, everything else is fine.
Today, I leave for San Diego and I couldn't be more thrilled to get the hell away from here for some time. I realized this weekend that in order for me to live a more positive lifestyle I have to live somewhere else. On Saturday night I was hanging out on NDNU campus with some people and it got ridiculous. A few students (their names will be withheld to spare them the embarrassment) were disrespecting some some female students and were totally wasted on booze and cocaine. I kind of threw a fit and let everyone around know that I was disgusted with the way people were treating each other (Guys telling girls they HAD to fuck them and they were lucky they got to hang out with them).
It was not that long ago to remember when it was cool to hang out on NDNU campus. The people that are coming to the school have change significantly. There are a lot more people at the school without morals and no respect for anything or anyone. It really disturbs me. When I first came to NDNU three years ago, it was insane! The parties were great and everyone got along, it was fun to spend time walking around campus, talking and laughing with different groups of people. Now its just a big mess. The younger kids are over stimulated little pricks with no regard for their own safety.
I left that night after telling off a couple people and walked from Belmont to Redwood City at 230am. Took me about two hours to get home. I walked in the front door around 430am and fell on the floor exhausted and passed out, thankful I had made it back safely.
Things are going to be different from now on. No longer will I be hanging out with the truly mislead youth and finally start my life as a aspiring young writer. I do have to thank all those assholes that now reside at NDNU. Thank you for giving me the inspiration to exploit you in one of my upcoming blog entries. Yr in for it now!!!
Thanks for reading!
Shine On,
maddog
So the past couple of days I have not been feeling so hot. Since I stopped smoking cigarettes (for the millionth time) cold turkey after Saturday night I have developed an annoying cough and soar throat. The other, more disgusting part, is all of the black mucus in my lungs I have been coughing up, the gross liquid coating my throat and mouth with the taste of charred cat shit. Besides that, everything else is fine.
Today, I leave for San Diego and I couldn't be more thrilled to get the hell away from here for some time. I realized this weekend that in order for me to live a more positive lifestyle I have to live somewhere else. On Saturday night I was hanging out on NDNU campus with some people and it got ridiculous. A few students (their names will be withheld to spare them the embarrassment) were disrespecting some some female students and were totally wasted on booze and cocaine. I kind of threw a fit and let everyone around know that I was disgusted with the way people were treating each other (Guys telling girls they HAD to fuck them and they were lucky they got to hang out with them).
It was not that long ago to remember when it was cool to hang out on NDNU campus. The people that are coming to the school have change significantly. There are a lot more people at the school without morals and no respect for anything or anyone. It really disturbs me. When I first came to NDNU three years ago, it was insane! The parties were great and everyone got along, it was fun to spend time walking around campus, talking and laughing with different groups of people. Now its just a big mess. The younger kids are over stimulated little pricks with no regard for their own safety.
I left that night after telling off a couple people and walked from Belmont to Redwood City at 230am. Took me about two hours to get home. I walked in the front door around 430am and fell on the floor exhausted and passed out, thankful I had made it back safely.
Things are going to be different from now on. No longer will I be hanging out with the truly mislead youth and finally start my life as a aspiring young writer. I do have to thank all those assholes that now reside at NDNU. Thank you for giving me the inspiration to exploit you in one of my upcoming blog entries. Yr in for it now!!!
Thanks for reading!
Shine On,
maddog
Friday, October 8, 2010
Days Go By...
Currently Listening To: Thieves and Assassins - Demo
I have really been stuck in a rut ever since coming of the Warped Tour in mid August. I came "home" to no bed and no job. Technically homeless, I have spent the last (almost) two months living in my friends living room, sleeping on the floor, attempting to spend as little money as possible in order to pay my monthly debt to my court ordered DUI class. As of Oct. 5, I am done with my weekly groups and counselor meetings and now I really do not know what to do with myself. I really have no reason to stay up here in the bay area, besides a few close people. I need a change of pace.
So, as I reported in an earlier blog, I am moving my life down to sunny southern California (Carlsbad, in north county San Diego to be more clear). I think that this would be the best place for me to go. I know that I will be able to start a fresh life for myself, find a good job, and begin paying back all my other debt, including $2009 to LA court system. I now that I do not need to hope and pry for the future because I know that I will get everything straight and come out on top, but I will need to put in 100% effort. I would not be able to do this successfully if I did not have the great support system I have behind me and I cannot put into words how appreciative I am for having these resources at my finger tips. Thank you everyone from the bottom of my heart.
The bottom line is, I am bored with my life and need to give it a shot of adrenaline to the heart, if you will.
I know that this post is lame and is nothing like my other posts, but I have no inspiration as of now and I feel bad if I do not share anything...so I hope you have enjoyed my rantings. Just wanted to let everyone in on what is going on. More to report later as things become more clear.
thanks for sticking with me people...
love,
madisson
I have really been stuck in a rut ever since coming of the Warped Tour in mid August. I came "home" to no bed and no job. Technically homeless, I have spent the last (almost) two months living in my friends living room, sleeping on the floor, attempting to spend as little money as possible in order to pay my monthly debt to my court ordered DUI class. As of Oct. 5, I am done with my weekly groups and counselor meetings and now I really do not know what to do with myself. I really have no reason to stay up here in the bay area, besides a few close people. I need a change of pace.
So, as I reported in an earlier blog, I am moving my life down to sunny southern California (Carlsbad, in north county San Diego to be more clear). I think that this would be the best place for me to go. I know that I will be able to start a fresh life for myself, find a good job, and begin paying back all my other debt, including $2009 to LA court system. I now that I do not need to hope and pry for the future because I know that I will get everything straight and come out on top, but I will need to put in 100% effort. I would not be able to do this successfully if I did not have the great support system I have behind me and I cannot put into words how appreciative I am for having these resources at my finger tips. Thank you everyone from the bottom of my heart.
The bottom line is, I am bored with my life and need to give it a shot of adrenaline to the heart, if you will.
I know that this post is lame and is nothing like my other posts, but I have no inspiration as of now and I feel bad if I do not share anything...so I hope you have enjoyed my rantings. Just wanted to let everyone in on what is going on. More to report later as things become more clear.
thanks for sticking with me people...
love,
madisson
Monday, October 4, 2010
The Rules of Attraction...
Currently Listening To: After The Fall - Fort Orange
How about another story?? Well, you really didn't have a choice in the first place because that is what I am choosing to write about...(You can decide for yrself whether it's real or not)
Christie woke up one Saturday morning in her dorm room on the second floor of New Hall (the West side) with someones dudes body draped over her, mostly naked; she had the faint metallic taste of blood in her mouth. She was more than a little confused about what the fuck she had gotten herself into last night. Her heart began to race uncontrollably when she tried to start piecing together what she could of last night. She generally doesn't get this fucked up for this specific reason, waking up in her bed with someone she doesn't know. She identified the naked boy she was sleeping with was a sophomore named Jesse and the only reason she knew this boy was because he was known for getting around campus and what I mean by "getting around" is that the dude was a man whore, going to bed with multiple girl in the week. She and him were not even friends really, so it confused Christie as to how she ended up in a bed with him, naked, and sore all over.
Christie attempted to roll his body over so she could get up and start her morning, but was unable to because she was so small and he was kind of large, but not fat just tall and broad (I believe he is on the basketball team, but I could be mistaken, whatever). She ended up squeezing her way up from under his body and put on t - shirt and some sweats, she turned around to her desk and opened the top drawer and grabbed a small bag of some potent hydro and pack of Zig-Zags. She put her "goodies" in her purse and walked out of her room, crawled over the mess in the common room (multiple bodies, empty bottles of tequila and rum and beer cans strewn about in ever crevice of the room; the floor was sticky from people spilling drinks). Christie left the disaster which was her room for the cafe across campus, she knew that one thing (besides the pot) would help her feel a little better this morning, greasy school breakfast.
As Christie walked into the cafe, she waved over to her friends that were sitting in the back corner of the mess hall, adorned in the same t-shirt/sweatpants combo. She walked to the front of the food line and decided to get ham and cheese omelet with bell peppers and onions, NO mushrooms! After the chef came back with her eggs she also grabbed some bacon, hash browns, and made herself some toast. She poured herself a delicious glass of cranberry juice and went to check out. Steve slid her card to mark off her meal and he commented on how hung over she looked. She just starred blankly at him, mostly in disbelief that he had said some thing, called him a "fucking asshole" and walked over to her friends table.
When she sat down, Christie noticed that they were chattering on about the events that went down last night. She told them that she woke up under some behemoth and they told her that they were not surprised by this, they said they had never seen Christie so wasted in their lives and how she looked like she was having a good time and how she was all over Jesse and they were kind of happy for her since she didn't really like the act of the "random drunk hook-up". Christie took a big breathe, trying to figure out what drove her to get so wasted, she took a bite from her omelet, but spit it out immediately. Some how the chef had managed to sneak those bastard mushrooms into her eggs after she asked not to have them in there. She has never gotten the omelet she wants because the chefs always taint her eggs with the elusive mushrooms she hates. One day they will get it right, maybe. She was going to eat the bacon, but it wasn't cooked enough, floppy and dripping in grease. She shoved her plate away and nibbled on the toast as she tried to piece her night together...her friends had helped very little and were now arguing about who was going to be driving them to the mall later. They invited Christie, but she declined, she was going to figure out just what the fuck happened last night, she grabbed her plate and walked out of the cafe without any information.
Christie reached into her purse and took out her cell phone to call up a guy friend named Taylor who might have some info on the happenings from last night. She also knew that he liked to get high and she didn't wanna smoke the buds alone. He answered the phone in a groggy tone, but after she mentioned the pot he was more awake and up out of bed heading for the special smoking spot. Taylor is at the bench under the trees near Ralston Hall by the time Christie arrives and he greets her by telling her how much of a riot she was. She tells him that she really cannot remember anything, the only thing being that she and her girlfriend walked to the apartments around 11:15pm with a red cups full of jungle juice in hand. As she is recalling the room they went to, Christie pulls out the pot and wraps and she begins to pick and the bud and grind it between her fingers in order to make it smoke properly in the joint, she rolls it cleanly, and sparks the perfect cone. She passes the joint to Taylor while tells her that the last time he had seen her that night was in Wilkie 1 hanging on the big sophomore. He takes a couple of deep drags and passes the joint back to Christie apologizing for not being any help. But it then struck him that another girl he knew, a freshman, was at the same party and she also had a rough evening and also cannot figure out why she cannot remember anything. He said her name was Jamie and she lived in JB 206.
After finishing off the last of the joint, the two friends walk to JB and Taylor lets Christie upstairs to go see Jamie (Taylor was going to check up on his own girlfriend who lived in St. Joe's). After knocking twice the door swung open and Christie introduced herself as a friend of Taylor's and told her that she also had a considerably rough night. Jamie is a pretty girl, petite, blond with perky breasts, tight butt, and big glossy green eyes; girls like this are trouble on a small campus like NDNU they don't stay single long whether they want to or not (you can decide for yrself what that means). Jamie invites Christie to sit on her bed so they can talk. Christie tells the girl not to be alarmed, but she is convinced that they were both drugged and they might not be the only girls that this happened to. Jamie didn't want to say it, but she agreed and she was scared and began to weep. Christie embraced the freshman and told her that it was going to be OK and they were going to figure out who had done this to them and they were going to pay dearly. She knew the first place to go...back to her dorm to confront the piece of shit that was sleeping in her bed, Jesse.
The two girl hugged one another, Christie told Jamie not to worry and that she will take care of whoever did this to them and any other female for that matter. Christie made her way back across campus to her dorm room in New Hall and just as she suspected, Jesse was still asleep, balls deep in her pillow. She watched him for a couple of minutes just studying his body waiting for a chance to strike. After a short time he finally rolled over and Christie reached under the sheets and took a hold of his testicles and squeezed as hard as she could. As he awoke screaming, she mounted the stunned jock and slammed his large head into the wooden bed frame, still with the death grip around his sack. Christie wasn't shy (as you can tell) and demanded to know if he had anything to do with her being drugged the night before. Jesse, confused and in searing pain, could not lie about something so serious. He claimed to have nothing to do with the situation (he was infamous around campus for taking advantage of girl who have had too much to drink) and she found that hard to believe. Christie only squeezed harder, pulling and twisting now and again slammed his head into the bed frame, this time drawing blood from just above his brow. He was now more frightened than ever, Christie meant business. Tears began streaming from his eyes as he pathetically professed that he honestly, truthfully, had nothing to do with her being drugged and apologized for taking advantage of her in the state she was in. Before she ripped his sack from his body, she let go and told the scumbag to get out and never even look at her again. Clutching his head and testicles, Jesse got up from her bed, grabbed his pants and shirt and made started for the door. He didn't turn around for fear of being beaten again for looking at her, but told her to look for a dude named Carter (local drug dealer on campus), he was probably at the "lax" house. She didn't say anything as she sat on her bed to collect her thoughts. If she was going to confront this guy she would have to come up with a proper plan, one that would scare him into never doing this to another woman ever again.
Christie waited till the next day, during the guys lacrosse game to go investigate. She walked about a quarter of a mile from the school campus to the house and went around the side of the house to get in the back. She walked right up to a sliding glass door that had been left open, probably to air out the pig sty which these guys called a house (the place deserved to be condemned and torn down it was so nasty). When she entered the house she nearly tripped over an abundance of trash from all the gross fast food the guy ate that had been collecting up in the living room. Christie did not know which room was Caters but she was going to go through all the rooms anyway and try and find something to give her a clue. The first room she investigated smelled like old sweaty under-ware and moldy cheese. She looked through the closet under piles of clothes, under the bed, in the draws of the nightstand. Nothing. She left that room for one down the hall which did not smell as bad as the first, but was still filthy, dirty clothes covered the entire carpet of the room. The first place she chose to look was under the bed. She pulled out a medium sized box which resembled a fisherman's tackle box. She opened up the case and discovered the jack pot, a seriously obsessively organized box of illicit drugs: 2 oz of high grade pot, a locket full of cocaine, bags of different colored X, an oz of Shrooms, and pill jars marked: Percocet, Oxycontin, Norco, Xanax, Adderal, Ritalin, Vicodin, Diazepan, Seconal, and Gamma-Hydroxybutyric (more commonly known as GHB; the "date-rape" drug. She couldn't believe her eyes at this dudes collection and knew that something had to be done to this guy so he stops hurting people. She was going to teach him a lesson he would never forget.
That night while the guys were out at Aussies to celebrate their win over Whittier, Christie went back to the house and found a water bottle in Carter's room and filled it with cold water from the refrigerator, a substantial dose of the Diazepan and GHB, and added a packet of Emergen-C to disguise the tainted bottle. She shook the bottle up and put it in the mini fridge that was in the corner of the room, hoping the dumb jock would drink it before going to bed, thinking he was going to hydrate before falling asleep. She left and would return in the middle of the night to exact her revenge.
After several hours of hard drinking, the lax boys returned to their house hung out until passing out at around 2am. Christie went to JB to grab the Jamie, who had also been drugged and who deserves to be apart of this. They drive together up the block to the lax house, which was quiet and that fact made the girls smile. They carefully and quietly crept to the back of the house through the sliding door, which was still open, and tip-toed through the pitch dark house to the room of Carter. The girls held their breathe as they opened the door to Carter's room and slowly moved in. Their was a tiny bit of light coming through his closet door and they could see that Carter was asleep. Christie went to the fridge and to her delight, the bottle was gone. She found the empty bottle at the foot of the guy's bed. She knew that they would have no problem getting him back to campus without him waking up, they just had to be quiet going through the house. After successfully carrying the body to the truck of the car, Christie told Jamie to get in the car and wait. Christie went back in the house and grabbed the box of drugs, if they were going to make an example of this clown, they were going to do it to the fullest extent.
They drove back to campus and parked at the front of Ralston Mansion. Jamie got out and went up to the front door and tried it, the door was unlocked. She ram back to the car and told Christie. She popped the trunk and the two girls grabbed the nearly lifeless body and carried him through the main hallway, into the ball room and sat him in a chair. While Jamie held him, Christie undressed Carter to his boxers and began duct tapping his legs and hands together, so when he woke he would not be able to get away, if he woke up at all that is; Christie wasn't really sure how much of the drugs she had given to him in the first place, she just knew she was going to fuck him up. After they were done with the tapping they stood and looked at him. Jamie began to tear up and spit on his face. The two girls embraced and Christie ensured the freshman that this was the last time he was going to hurt or contribute to another sexual assult on a female on campus at NDNU. The two girl went back to the car and again Christie told Jamie to wait while she planted one more item for some one to find, the box of drugs. Christie went back and dumped the box of drugs in the lap of Carter and spread everything around him, spilling pills to the floor. Christie walked out of the mansion feeling relieved. She knew that if she were to get caught, she would face some sort of consequences, but it was worth it to her, as long as this scum of the earth went down first.
Christie woke the next morning and felt good. She looked out the window behind New Hall and saw a group of deer sprinting up the hill, the sun kissing the ground through slits in the trees. She brushed her teeth, dressed, and made her way to the cafe for breakfast. When she walked in there was a buzz about the place. People were talking to each other excitedly about the administrations discovery at 7am. Christie got into the food line and the girls in front of her were talking about the gentleman found in the mansion, mostly naked, restrained, and incapacitated. Security cleaned up the scene and had to take the student to the hospital for fear that he had overdosed himself. As the girls kept chattering on about how much they despised Carter and how no one knew how he got there, all Christie could do was smile to herself. She was so elated that she ignored everyone around her and forgot that she was in line to order food, the person behind her nudged her and said she was holding up the line. She didn't stop smiling or say anything back to whoever was behind her, she ordered her usual omelete. She knew that the chef would mess it up, but she continued to smile because even though she was going to be dissapointed in breakfast she was ultimately already satisfied that morning, even a little mushroom couldn't disturb this feeling.
Hope you all enjoyed reading this. I really enjoyed writing it! thanks for your continued support.
love,
madisson
How about another story?? Well, you really didn't have a choice in the first place because that is what I am choosing to write about...(You can decide for yrself whether it's real or not)
Christie woke up one Saturday morning in her dorm room on the second floor of New Hall (the West side) with someones dudes body draped over her, mostly naked; she had the faint metallic taste of blood in her mouth. She was more than a little confused about what the fuck she had gotten herself into last night. Her heart began to race uncontrollably when she tried to start piecing together what she could of last night. She generally doesn't get this fucked up for this specific reason, waking up in her bed with someone she doesn't know. She identified the naked boy she was sleeping with was a sophomore named Jesse and the only reason she knew this boy was because he was known for getting around campus and what I mean by "getting around" is that the dude was a man whore, going to bed with multiple girl in the week. She and him were not even friends really, so it confused Christie as to how she ended up in a bed with him, naked, and sore all over.
Christie attempted to roll his body over so she could get up and start her morning, but was unable to because she was so small and he was kind of large, but not fat just tall and broad (I believe he is on the basketball team, but I could be mistaken, whatever). She ended up squeezing her way up from under his body and put on t - shirt and some sweats, she turned around to her desk and opened the top drawer and grabbed a small bag of some potent hydro and pack of Zig-Zags. She put her "goodies" in her purse and walked out of her room, crawled over the mess in the common room (multiple bodies, empty bottles of tequila and rum and beer cans strewn about in ever crevice of the room; the floor was sticky from people spilling drinks). Christie left the disaster which was her room for the cafe across campus, she knew that one thing (besides the pot) would help her feel a little better this morning, greasy school breakfast.
As Christie walked into the cafe, she waved over to her friends that were sitting in the back corner of the mess hall, adorned in the same t-shirt/sweatpants combo. She walked to the front of the food line and decided to get ham and cheese omelet with bell peppers and onions, NO mushrooms! After the chef came back with her eggs she also grabbed some bacon, hash browns, and made herself some toast. She poured herself a delicious glass of cranberry juice and went to check out. Steve slid her card to mark off her meal and he commented on how hung over she looked. She just starred blankly at him, mostly in disbelief that he had said some thing, called him a "fucking asshole" and walked over to her friends table.
When she sat down, Christie noticed that they were chattering on about the events that went down last night. She told them that she woke up under some behemoth and they told her that they were not surprised by this, they said they had never seen Christie so wasted in their lives and how she looked like she was having a good time and how she was all over Jesse and they were kind of happy for her since she didn't really like the act of the "random drunk hook-up". Christie took a big breathe, trying to figure out what drove her to get so wasted, she took a bite from her omelet, but spit it out immediately. Some how the chef had managed to sneak those bastard mushrooms into her eggs after she asked not to have them in there. She has never gotten the omelet she wants because the chefs always taint her eggs with the elusive mushrooms she hates. One day they will get it right, maybe. She was going to eat the bacon, but it wasn't cooked enough, floppy and dripping in grease. She shoved her plate away and nibbled on the toast as she tried to piece her night together...her friends had helped very little and were now arguing about who was going to be driving them to the mall later. They invited Christie, but she declined, she was going to figure out just what the fuck happened last night, she grabbed her plate and walked out of the cafe without any information.
Christie reached into her purse and took out her cell phone to call up a guy friend named Taylor who might have some info on the happenings from last night. She also knew that he liked to get high and she didn't wanna smoke the buds alone. He answered the phone in a groggy tone, but after she mentioned the pot he was more awake and up out of bed heading for the special smoking spot. Taylor is at the bench under the trees near Ralston Hall by the time Christie arrives and he greets her by telling her how much of a riot she was. She tells him that she really cannot remember anything, the only thing being that she and her girlfriend walked to the apartments around 11:15pm with a red cups full of jungle juice in hand. As she is recalling the room they went to, Christie pulls out the pot and wraps and she begins to pick and the bud and grind it between her fingers in order to make it smoke properly in the joint, she rolls it cleanly, and sparks the perfect cone. She passes the joint to Taylor while tells her that the last time he had seen her that night was in Wilkie 1 hanging on the big sophomore. He takes a couple of deep drags and passes the joint back to Christie apologizing for not being any help. But it then struck him that another girl he knew, a freshman, was at the same party and she also had a rough evening and also cannot figure out why she cannot remember anything. He said her name was Jamie and she lived in JB 206.
After finishing off the last of the joint, the two friends walk to JB and Taylor lets Christie upstairs to go see Jamie (Taylor was going to check up on his own girlfriend who lived in St. Joe's). After knocking twice the door swung open and Christie introduced herself as a friend of Taylor's and told her that she also had a considerably rough night. Jamie is a pretty girl, petite, blond with perky breasts, tight butt, and big glossy green eyes; girls like this are trouble on a small campus like NDNU they don't stay single long whether they want to or not (you can decide for yrself what that means). Jamie invites Christie to sit on her bed so they can talk. Christie tells the girl not to be alarmed, but she is convinced that they were both drugged and they might not be the only girls that this happened to. Jamie didn't want to say it, but she agreed and she was scared and began to weep. Christie embraced the freshman and told her that it was going to be OK and they were going to figure out who had done this to them and they were going to pay dearly. She knew the first place to go...back to her dorm to confront the piece of shit that was sleeping in her bed, Jesse.
The two girl hugged one another, Christie told Jamie not to worry and that she will take care of whoever did this to them and any other female for that matter. Christie made her way back across campus to her dorm room in New Hall and just as she suspected, Jesse was still asleep, balls deep in her pillow. She watched him for a couple of minutes just studying his body waiting for a chance to strike. After a short time he finally rolled over and Christie reached under the sheets and took a hold of his testicles and squeezed as hard as she could. As he awoke screaming, she mounted the stunned jock and slammed his large head into the wooden bed frame, still with the death grip around his sack. Christie wasn't shy (as you can tell) and demanded to know if he had anything to do with her being drugged the night before. Jesse, confused and in searing pain, could not lie about something so serious. He claimed to have nothing to do with the situation (he was infamous around campus for taking advantage of girl who have had too much to drink) and she found that hard to believe. Christie only squeezed harder, pulling and twisting now and again slammed his head into the bed frame, this time drawing blood from just above his brow. He was now more frightened than ever, Christie meant business. Tears began streaming from his eyes as he pathetically professed that he honestly, truthfully, had nothing to do with her being drugged and apologized for taking advantage of her in the state she was in. Before she ripped his sack from his body, she let go and told the scumbag to get out and never even look at her again. Clutching his head and testicles, Jesse got up from her bed, grabbed his pants and shirt and made started for the door. He didn't turn around for fear of being beaten again for looking at her, but told her to look for a dude named Carter (local drug dealer on campus), he was probably at the "lax" house. She didn't say anything as she sat on her bed to collect her thoughts. If she was going to confront this guy she would have to come up with a proper plan, one that would scare him into never doing this to another woman ever again.
Christie waited till the next day, during the guys lacrosse game to go investigate. She walked about a quarter of a mile from the school campus to the house and went around the side of the house to get in the back. She walked right up to a sliding glass door that had been left open, probably to air out the pig sty which these guys called a house (the place deserved to be condemned and torn down it was so nasty). When she entered the house she nearly tripped over an abundance of trash from all the gross fast food the guy ate that had been collecting up in the living room. Christie did not know which room was Caters but she was going to go through all the rooms anyway and try and find something to give her a clue. The first room she investigated smelled like old sweaty under-ware and moldy cheese. She looked through the closet under piles of clothes, under the bed, in the draws of the nightstand. Nothing. She left that room for one down the hall which did not smell as bad as the first, but was still filthy, dirty clothes covered the entire carpet of the room. The first place she chose to look was under the bed. She pulled out a medium sized box which resembled a fisherman's tackle box. She opened up the case and discovered the jack pot, a seriously obsessively organized box of illicit drugs: 2 oz of high grade pot, a locket full of cocaine, bags of different colored X, an oz of Shrooms, and pill jars marked: Percocet, Oxycontin, Norco, Xanax, Adderal, Ritalin, Vicodin, Diazepan, Seconal, and Gamma-Hydroxybutyric (more commonly known as GHB; the "date-rape" drug. She couldn't believe her eyes at this dudes collection and knew that something had to be done to this guy so he stops hurting people. She was going to teach him a lesson he would never forget.
That night while the guys were out at Aussies to celebrate their win over Whittier, Christie went back to the house and found a water bottle in Carter's room and filled it with cold water from the refrigerator, a substantial dose of the Diazepan and GHB, and added a packet of Emergen-C to disguise the tainted bottle. She shook the bottle up and put it in the mini fridge that was in the corner of the room, hoping the dumb jock would drink it before going to bed, thinking he was going to hydrate before falling asleep. She left and would return in the middle of the night to exact her revenge.
After several hours of hard drinking, the lax boys returned to their house hung out until passing out at around 2am. Christie went to JB to grab the Jamie, who had also been drugged and who deserves to be apart of this. They drive together up the block to the lax house, which was quiet and that fact made the girls smile. They carefully and quietly crept to the back of the house through the sliding door, which was still open, and tip-toed through the pitch dark house to the room of Carter. The girls held their breathe as they opened the door to Carter's room and slowly moved in. Their was a tiny bit of light coming through his closet door and they could see that Carter was asleep. Christie went to the fridge and to her delight, the bottle was gone. She found the empty bottle at the foot of the guy's bed. She knew that they would have no problem getting him back to campus without him waking up, they just had to be quiet going through the house. After successfully carrying the body to the truck of the car, Christie told Jamie to get in the car and wait. Christie went back in the house and grabbed the box of drugs, if they were going to make an example of this clown, they were going to do it to the fullest extent.
They drove back to campus and parked at the front of Ralston Mansion. Jamie got out and went up to the front door and tried it, the door was unlocked. She ram back to the car and told Christie. She popped the trunk and the two girls grabbed the nearly lifeless body and carried him through the main hallway, into the ball room and sat him in a chair. While Jamie held him, Christie undressed Carter to his boxers and began duct tapping his legs and hands together, so when he woke he would not be able to get away, if he woke up at all that is; Christie wasn't really sure how much of the drugs she had given to him in the first place, she just knew she was going to fuck him up. After they were done with the tapping they stood and looked at him. Jamie began to tear up and spit on his face. The two girls embraced and Christie ensured the freshman that this was the last time he was going to hurt or contribute to another sexual assult on a female on campus at NDNU. The two girl went back to the car and again Christie told Jamie to wait while she planted one more item for some one to find, the box of drugs. Christie went back and dumped the box of drugs in the lap of Carter and spread everything around him, spilling pills to the floor. Christie walked out of the mansion feeling relieved. She knew that if she were to get caught, she would face some sort of consequences, but it was worth it to her, as long as this scum of the earth went down first.
Christie woke the next morning and felt good. She looked out the window behind New Hall and saw a group of deer sprinting up the hill, the sun kissing the ground through slits in the trees. She brushed her teeth, dressed, and made her way to the cafe for breakfast. When she walked in there was a buzz about the place. People were talking to each other excitedly about the administrations discovery at 7am. Christie got into the food line and the girls in front of her were talking about the gentleman found in the mansion, mostly naked, restrained, and incapacitated. Security cleaned up the scene and had to take the student to the hospital for fear that he had overdosed himself. As the girls kept chattering on about how much they despised Carter and how no one knew how he got there, all Christie could do was smile to herself. She was so elated that she ignored everyone around her and forgot that she was in line to order food, the person behind her nudged her and said she was holding up the line. She didn't stop smiling or say anything back to whoever was behind her, she ordered her usual omelete. She knew that the chef would mess it up, but she continued to smile because even though she was going to be dissapointed in breakfast she was ultimately already satisfied that morning, even a little mushroom couldn't disturb this feeling.
Hope you all enjoyed reading this. I really enjoyed writing it! thanks for your continued support.
love,
madisson
Sunday, September 26, 2010
Too $hort...Too Lame!
Currently Listening To: Silent Majority - Life of a Spectator
I was going to post this yesterday, but I ended up being consumed by college football. I would like to take the time here to acknowledge unranked UCLA on whooping the #7 Longhorns yesterday in Texas at the Cotton Bowl, that's pretty embarrassing Coach Brown. It was a stunner for sure! Congrats USC on stomping WSU in Pullman, stupid hippies hahaha!!
OK, so Friday night I got invited to go to some random club in the San Francisco to see Too Short perform and have a really fun Friday night. I really didn't know it was going to turn out so bad. We didn't leave for the club until about 1030pm because we were waiting to hear back from some girls who wanted to join us at the club. Nick P's buddy was the promoter for the show so we were on the guest list so we didn't have to worry about paying a cover. The girls ended up flaking on us so we rolled to the city with four dudes. In the club world that generally is not very helpful in getting into a busy club, but we were on the guest list so there was nothing to be worried about. I was totally wrong about that. We got to the club around 1130pm the place was packed. They didn't want to let us in even though we were on the guest list. Plus we showed up with no women and they weren't feeling that either. We finally found the promoter friend and he ended up talking security into letting us in for $10 a head. Now this was really getting stupid. I don't even listen to rap music and hear I am, outside of some trashy, trendy club, paying for something I was supposed to get into for free. When we got into the club, we had to weave threw the crowd of gangsters wannabes, hipsters scene kids, and poorly dressed women to get to the only place where there was room to stand, in the very back of the club. As usual when at a club, the cheapest drink they had to sell was $7 Bud Light. I laughed and knew that i was not about to spend what little money I had on over priced cheap booze. A girl friend of mine from school, her name is Lea, who was there was kind enough to purchase me a beer and we stood close and yelled into each others ears because that was the only way of communicating outside of "texting". One thing that bothered me the most about the club was the lack of beautiful women. Now, there were "hot" girls at the club, but not a single one was genuine in personality. I ended up talking to three different girls and they wouldn't even give me the time of day. I was just trying to make conversation and I would either get ignored or totally blown off. A girl actually told me that , "I could leave now." What the fuck is that? I was so taken a back I didn't even say anything, I walked away confused. I shouldn't be shocked by this, but I was. I ripped my way threw the crowd to the other side of the club to find my friends. Just as I found Nick and Lea, Too Short came on the little stage and it was nothing impressive at all. He may be the king of rap in the bay area, but it was a weak show to say the least. He performed a handful of "songs" and then retreated to his VIP table with a bunch of drunk girls he pulled up on to the stage to dance for him. I was fed up with this place. I didn't belong there and everything about the night was telling me so. We ended up leaving the club around 2am. I can't believe we stayed as long as we did. I will never, ever be doing that again. I thought it was going to be a fun night out, but it ended up becoming my worst nightmare. No wonder I listen to hardcore and punk music. There is no passion in rap. Its just an annoying display of overindulgence and a practice of lunacy.
thanks for reading me rants
love,
madisson
I was going to post this yesterday, but I ended up being consumed by college football. I would like to take the time here to acknowledge unranked UCLA on whooping the #7 Longhorns yesterday in Texas at the Cotton Bowl, that's pretty embarrassing Coach Brown. It was a stunner for sure! Congrats USC on stomping WSU in Pullman, stupid hippies hahaha!!
OK, so Friday night I got invited to go to some random club in the San Francisco to see Too Short perform and have a really fun Friday night. I really didn't know it was going to turn out so bad. We didn't leave for the club until about 1030pm because we were waiting to hear back from some girls who wanted to join us at the club. Nick P's buddy was the promoter for the show so we were on the guest list so we didn't have to worry about paying a cover. The girls ended up flaking on us so we rolled to the city with four dudes. In the club world that generally is not very helpful in getting into a busy club, but we were on the guest list so there was nothing to be worried about. I was totally wrong about that. We got to the club around 1130pm the place was packed. They didn't want to let us in even though we were on the guest list. Plus we showed up with no women and they weren't feeling that either. We finally found the promoter friend and he ended up talking security into letting us in for $10 a head. Now this was really getting stupid. I don't even listen to rap music and hear I am, outside of some trashy, trendy club, paying for something I was supposed to get into for free. When we got into the club, we had to weave threw the crowd of gangsters wannabes, hipsters scene kids, and poorly dressed women to get to the only place where there was room to stand, in the very back of the club. As usual when at a club, the cheapest drink they had to sell was $7 Bud Light. I laughed and knew that i was not about to spend what little money I had on over priced cheap booze. A girl friend of mine from school, her name is Lea, who was there was kind enough to purchase me a beer and we stood close and yelled into each others ears because that was the only way of communicating outside of "texting". One thing that bothered me the most about the club was the lack of beautiful women. Now, there were "hot" girls at the club, but not a single one was genuine in personality. I ended up talking to three different girls and they wouldn't even give me the time of day. I was just trying to make conversation and I would either get ignored or totally blown off. A girl actually told me that , "I could leave now." What the fuck is that? I was so taken a back I didn't even say anything, I walked away confused. I shouldn't be shocked by this, but I was. I ripped my way threw the crowd to the other side of the club to find my friends. Just as I found Nick and Lea, Too Short came on the little stage and it was nothing impressive at all. He may be the king of rap in the bay area, but it was a weak show to say the least. He performed a handful of "songs" and then retreated to his VIP table with a bunch of drunk girls he pulled up on to the stage to dance for him. I was fed up with this place. I didn't belong there and everything about the night was telling me so. We ended up leaving the club around 2am. I can't believe we stayed as long as we did. I will never, ever be doing that again. I thought it was going to be a fun night out, but it ended up becoming my worst nightmare. No wonder I listen to hardcore and punk music. There is no passion in rap. Its just an annoying display of overindulgence and a practice of lunacy.
thanks for reading me rants
love,
madisson
Friday, September 24, 2010
Hawt Lixx...
Currently Listening To: Texas Is The Reason - Do You Know Who You Are?
Because I currently do not have anything interesting I would like to discuss at the moment. Instead I will share another poem of mine. This past spring semester of school my external hard-drive that contained ALL of my poetry was stolen and it never was recovered. Fortunately, I had several of my poems published in my University's award winning literary journal. This poem was originally titled "The King and I".
"The King and I"
SQUAWK!!
Its only 6 am and I don't have to be up for another hour and fifteen minutes.
SQUAWK!!
I stare up at the ceiling lying completely still, wondering why I don't hate the terrible thing.
The way he waddles around, with his chest puffed, tail
Feathers splayed out like a Indian chieftains headdress, crying his insolent song.
How can a creature so beautiful drive a person to the brink of insanity?
Mr. Peacock owns Chelsea road; this is His turf.
He stands triumphantly atop our garage surveying his lands and calling out to his lover,
SCREETCH!! SQUAWK!!!
It's as if he is taunting me with his awful cry,
"If she ain't gonna come and love me then I'll just keep on howling!"
He eventually gets what he desires...
What an attention whore.
SQUAWK!!
thanks for reading today my little "followers"
love,
maddog
Because I currently do not have anything interesting I would like to discuss at the moment. Instead I will share another poem of mine. This past spring semester of school my external hard-drive that contained ALL of my poetry was stolen and it never was recovered. Fortunately, I had several of my poems published in my University's award winning literary journal. This poem was originally titled "The King and I".
"The King and I"
SQUAWK!!
Its only 6 am and I don't have to be up for another hour and fifteen minutes.
SQUAWK!!
I stare up at the ceiling lying completely still, wondering why I don't hate the terrible thing.
The way he waddles around, with his chest puffed, tail
Feathers splayed out like a Indian chieftains headdress, crying his insolent song.
How can a creature so beautiful drive a person to the brink of insanity?
Mr. Peacock owns Chelsea road; this is His turf.
He stands triumphantly atop our garage surveying his lands and calling out to his lover,
SCREETCH!! SQUAWK!!!
It's as if he is taunting me with his awful cry,
"If she ain't gonna come and love me then I'll just keep on howling!"
He eventually gets what he desires...
What an attention whore.
SQUAWK!!
thanks for reading today my little "followers"
love,
maddog
Thursday, September 23, 2010
It's a metaphor, fool!
Currently Listening To: The Wonder Years - The Upsides
So I really do not have an excuse for not posting anything yesterday and I would like to extend an apology to all of you who have been keeping up reading this blog (all 8 of you...thanks!). I should be more considerate to my readers and give you what you demand, pure entertainment. I am going to try my best to not be so lazy when it comes to writing and posting on here. Its not like I have a lot else going on in my life right now, so it should not be a problem. Who knew it would be difficult to find inspiration to type something creative. I do not just want to sit here and not share something of substance with you, what would be the point of that? The purpose of this blog is to continue my personal education of writing (typing) and develop more skill and a better grasp on writing within different mediums.
I am getting pretty good at the random pre-blog rants, haha. I guess its a good place to vent, (acknowledge the problem and move on) so I can focus on my specific topic....
The past couple weeks have been very interesting for me. I have been living in my friends living-room, pretty much broke, with no job, no drivers license, no life. Which leads to me having a lot of down time, which ends up not being the best thing for me, my idle hands have been known to get me into trouble so I guess that's why I started typing my blog. Instead of doing "other" things I am occupying my time with reading an writing, and I will never stop. It is so important to me that I continue to educate myself. I am going to come clean to you guys, I kind of miss being in college, hahaha! That sounds pretty lame I know, but I must admit that it was one of the best things I ever did for myself. Yeah, yeah, the party's were fun, meet some people I will talk to for the rest of my life, tried things I never thought I would, and I survived. But the thing I miss the most is being in class. Over the years, especially going to a small school like NDNU, I was able to develop very close relationships with a handful of professors that seriously inspired me to give school everything I had. Going to class meant that you had to be held accountable, no one was in my face to tell me to get up at 8am to be in class a hour later, I know some people that have never heard of 8 o'clock in the morning. I am disappointed that I will never be able to take another class with Dr. Fitzgerald or Prof. Darth or even Dr. Wolterbeek (Geppetto's long lost twin). Not only are they great professors, but they go out of their way to help each and every student to the best of their abilities. When you speak to one of them, they genuinely care about your comments and concerns and will not ignore you even if your writing or analysis is not awe inspiring. I am sure that if I went up to one of my old college professors and asked for help, they would still oblige me, but my education now continues with me at the helm. I am no longer being told what to read and write (reading for pleasure is the best), this does not mean that I am going to write essays or papers, but I will continue to further my knowledge of writing and maybe some day I will be able to start in a masters writing program somewhere. I guess I am going to stop this blog because its not very good or interesting and for that I am sorry. Hopefully tomorrow will be better...thanks for reading my people
love,
maddog
So I really do not have an excuse for not posting anything yesterday and I would like to extend an apology to all of you who have been keeping up reading this blog (all 8 of you...thanks!). I should be more considerate to my readers and give you what you demand, pure entertainment. I am going to try my best to not be so lazy when it comes to writing and posting on here. Its not like I have a lot else going on in my life right now, so it should not be a problem. Who knew it would be difficult to find inspiration to type something creative. I do not just want to sit here and not share something of substance with you, what would be the point of that? The purpose of this blog is to continue my personal education of writing (typing) and develop more skill and a better grasp on writing within different mediums.
I am getting pretty good at the random pre-blog rants, haha. I guess its a good place to vent, (acknowledge the problem and move on) so I can focus on my specific topic....
The past couple weeks have been very interesting for me. I have been living in my friends living-room, pretty much broke, with no job, no drivers license, no life. Which leads to me having a lot of down time, which ends up not being the best thing for me, my idle hands have been known to get me into trouble so I guess that's why I started typing my blog. Instead of doing "other" things I am occupying my time with reading an writing, and I will never stop. It is so important to me that I continue to educate myself. I am going to come clean to you guys, I kind of miss being in college, hahaha! That sounds pretty lame I know, but I must admit that it was one of the best things I ever did for myself. Yeah, yeah, the party's were fun, meet some people I will talk to for the rest of my life, tried things I never thought I would, and I survived. But the thing I miss the most is being in class. Over the years, especially going to a small school like NDNU, I was able to develop very close relationships with a handful of professors that seriously inspired me to give school everything I had. Going to class meant that you had to be held accountable, no one was in my face to tell me to get up at 8am to be in class a hour later, I know some people that have never heard of 8 o'clock in the morning. I am disappointed that I will never be able to take another class with Dr. Fitzgerald or Prof. Darth or even Dr. Wolterbeek (Geppetto's long lost twin). Not only are they great professors, but they go out of their way to help each and every student to the best of their abilities. When you speak to one of them, they genuinely care about your comments and concerns and will not ignore you even if your writing or analysis is not awe inspiring. I am sure that if I went up to one of my old college professors and asked for help, they would still oblige me, but my education now continues with me at the helm. I am no longer being told what to read and write (reading for pleasure is the best), this does not mean that I am going to write essays or papers, but I will continue to further my knowledge of writing and maybe some day I will be able to start in a masters writing program somewhere. I guess I am going to stop this blog because its not very good or interesting and for that I am sorry. Hopefully tomorrow will be better...thanks for reading my people
love,
maddog
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
The Kids Aren't All Right...(Like Yr Favorite Song)
Currently Listening To: Heartsounds - Until We Surrender
Ever since I have been back from the Warped Tour, I have been pretty much homeless. Not in the sense of living on the streets and having to go dumpster-diving for my food, but not having a place to call my own, no bed, no privacy. Now, you could say that it doesn't sound so bad and it is really not, but sometimes it is really a struggle and it can be annoying. The hardest part is trying to get a good night sleep. Because I am currently crashing in my friend's living room, I have to deal with my buddy staying up until 3 or 4am every single night, the TV blaring its blue light all over my uncomfortable body. Last night, while I was lying trying to fall asleep around 1230am, I could feel the sound vibrations from the volume of TV and it was literally driving me mad. Yr going to think I am nuts, but I was actually clinching my fists under my blanket, so angry at my friend because I am soo tired and all I want is a little peace and quiet. And of course I don't speak up and ask him to turn the set down, because I really do not believe it is not my place to be asking for that courtesy and plus I think he may be a little deaf and I do not want to offend him if so. I stood up and reached for my ipod and put on some music to distract me from getting angry and try and fall asleep. I guess it worked, but I did toss and turn for awhile. I really should not complain because I am well taken care of here. I am working on being more positive about my current situation and realize that it is only temporary...moving on.
With all the news lately of all these "stars" being arrested for all these drug and alcohol related charges, Paris, Lindsey, Braylon Edwards, we really need to start taking care of ourselves. Now let me explain myself, I do not feel bad for Paris in the least, I think she is a dumb spoiled bitch taking advantage of her families money and will not being doing any jail time for her cocaine possession charges in Las Vegas. Braylon, there are not excuses for you brother. You knew the Jets provide a sober driver program, paid for by Woody Johnson (the man signing yr checks dude), so shit like this doesn't happen. Again I am in no place to pass judgment, but common man! Yr team needs you right now as that big offensive weapon and you decide on driving yrself in yr super tricked out ride that ended up getting you into trouble, I hope he figures it out and learns from his mistakes. OK, now everyone don't hate me here, but I will say that I kind of feel bad about this whole Lindsay Lohan situation. It sure does look like she deserves no sympathy from any one because she is doing this to herself, but she is battling a very angry demon called drug addiction. I honestly do not like the girl but I can understand what she is going through trying to battle and addiction. I have several close friends that have had trouble getting over their own vices and I can tell you that it was very difficult for them. A few of them are still feeling the negative affects of withdrawal from such drugs like oxy's and cocaine and I tell you it is not a pretty picture. We need to take care of ourselves and not get out of control just as Ms. Lohan. She needs to get away from her friends because they are all enabling her and getting her back into trouble, luring her to the next party. I am probably better off holding my breathe, but I really hope she starts taking her legal processes seriously because I know that she will be happier and have a lot of relief and will be able to have a restful night sleep and enjoy waking up in the morning everyday. Thanks for reading friends. I am going to continue reading "The Rules of Attraction", sooooo good!!!
love,
maddog
Ever since I have been back from the Warped Tour, I have been pretty much homeless. Not in the sense of living on the streets and having to go dumpster-diving for my food, but not having a place to call my own, no bed, no privacy. Now, you could say that it doesn't sound so bad and it is really not, but sometimes it is really a struggle and it can be annoying. The hardest part is trying to get a good night sleep. Because I am currently crashing in my friend's living room, I have to deal with my buddy staying up until 3 or 4am every single night, the TV blaring its blue light all over my uncomfortable body. Last night, while I was lying trying to fall asleep around 1230am, I could feel the sound vibrations from the volume of TV and it was literally driving me mad. Yr going to think I am nuts, but I was actually clinching my fists under my blanket, so angry at my friend because I am soo tired and all I want is a little peace and quiet. And of course I don't speak up and ask him to turn the set down, because I really do not believe it is not my place to be asking for that courtesy and plus I think he may be a little deaf and I do not want to offend him if so. I stood up and reached for my ipod and put on some music to distract me from getting angry and try and fall asleep. I guess it worked, but I did toss and turn for awhile. I really should not complain because I am well taken care of here. I am working on being more positive about my current situation and realize that it is only temporary...moving on.
With all the news lately of all these "stars" being arrested for all these drug and alcohol related charges, Paris, Lindsey, Braylon Edwards, we really need to start taking care of ourselves. Now let me explain myself, I do not feel bad for Paris in the least, I think she is a dumb spoiled bitch taking advantage of her families money and will not being doing any jail time for her cocaine possession charges in Las Vegas. Braylon, there are not excuses for you brother. You knew the Jets provide a sober driver program, paid for by Woody Johnson (the man signing yr checks dude), so shit like this doesn't happen. Again I am in no place to pass judgment, but common man! Yr team needs you right now as that big offensive weapon and you decide on driving yrself in yr super tricked out ride that ended up getting you into trouble, I hope he figures it out and learns from his mistakes. OK, now everyone don't hate me here, but I will say that I kind of feel bad about this whole Lindsay Lohan situation. It sure does look like she deserves no sympathy from any one because she is doing this to herself, but she is battling a very angry demon called drug addiction. I honestly do not like the girl but I can understand what she is going through trying to battle and addiction. I have several close friends that have had trouble getting over their own vices and I can tell you that it was very difficult for them. A few of them are still feeling the negative affects of withdrawal from such drugs like oxy's and cocaine and I tell you it is not a pretty picture. We need to take care of ourselves and not get out of control just as Ms. Lohan. She needs to get away from her friends because they are all enabling her and getting her back into trouble, luring her to the next party. I am probably better off holding my breathe, but I really hope she starts taking her legal processes seriously because I know that she will be happier and have a lot of relief and will be able to have a restful night sleep and enjoy waking up in the morning everyday. Thanks for reading friends. I am going to continue reading "The Rules of Attraction", sooooo good!!!
love,
maddog
Monday, September 20, 2010
Warped Experience 2010
Currently Listening To: Comeback Kid - Symptoms and Cures
Sorry it has taken me so long to get back here. I had a very interesting weekend...it all started on Thursday when my good pal, Nick Peterson, invited to watch his friend's football game at the University of Nevada, Reno versus Cal Berkley on Saturday. Of course I took the ticket. I get a call around 1pm on Friday, Nick says the game is tonight instead of Saturday. We took off as fast as we could and made it to the game at half-time. The Wolfpack smashed on the Bears 52-31! We didn't get back until late Saturday night. It was a great little road trip! Believe it or not, Reno is not so bad, yeah i said it hahaha. (No sign of Lt. Dangle unfortunately). Anyway, I decided that today I would share a story from my summer working on the Vans Warped Tour...
So, if you didn't know I spent the summer working for my friend, Brian Dorry (check out Hooligan Skateboards), selling skateboard decks on the traveling punk rock festival the Vans Warped Tour. It was the honestly the most fun, spontaneous, hard working, dirty, kick ass party I have ever been apart of. During the two month tour, I traveled with the infamous punk rock band, Riverboat Gamblers, on a tour bus which was also shared by a dude named Chris, who owns a clothing company called, "Choonimals", as well some cool kids working for a the MusicSkins company, (props to Frank, Jesse, "FJ" Ali, and Lucy). Ohh yea I almost forgot about the little trouble maker employed by Evil Ink comics (she will remain nameless for the sack of embarrassing someone). Traveling around the country with these people in such small living quarters is not the easiest thing to get used to, but because every one was so down to earth, it was supper easy for every one to get to know each other and develop lasting relationships. As I sit here, typing and reflecting I can only laugh and smile at all the bizarre and hilarious antic that went on. Which bring me too this heart warming story about a a buss breakdown that turned into the most fun and random "day off" from the tour.
Touring is not a particularly easy job to do, as some people want to believe. The piece of equipment that takes the biggest beating on a road trip like this, without a doubt, has to be the tour bus itself. It is also one of the most important pieces of equipment to keep in proper working condition, first priority for the bus driver is keeping his people safe and its hard to do that with a damaged bus. Let me back up a moment and explain something a little further...We started out with one driver named Shelby. What we didn't know about our driver was that she was a tweaked out (seriously, this woman was on meth), pathological liar that was unable to get us to the venues on time, who didn't take care of keeping up the bus to proper working standard, and who was just awkward to be around. She was eventually replaced by a radical dude named Joe. Anytime something needed fixing on the bus, he was on it; regular ole handyman. So after Joe took over, he had realized that Shelby had caused a substantial amount of damage to the bus because she was not careful or skilled in keeping up in proper working condition. During our 12 hour drive from Charlotte, NC to St. Petersburg, FL we broke down three different times. The first breakdown occurred in Savanna, GA, we had been stuck in a parking lot there with a broken fan belt since 3am. It was 8am and we had to wait several hours till we could get someone to fix it for us. We were in a lot of trouble because we were super behind schedule and we were beginning to come to the conclusion that we might not make it to the show that day. I was not really that upset about not setting up that day, the real part that was making me sad was that my parents and brother were going to come up from Sarasota to come visit with me and take me out to a nice dinner. As a result of the breakdowns, I had to reschedule the visit with my folks for two days later in Orlando. So I figured out that mess, but we were still stuck in Georgia, not any closer to the next show. After the fan belt was fixed we got back on the road at 1pm, but after about 45 minutes of hard driving, the bus overheated and shut itself down, we were again broken down on the side of the highway. We came to the conclusion that we were not going to make it in time for the Gamblers to play the last set of the night so we decided that we were going to make an afternoon out of our shot day and end up going to the beach and have a BBQ in Daytona
After several more beers, Ian, Fadi, and Rob of the Gamblers decide that we all need to go out to a strip club. It took some convincing, but we got a solid group of ten of us to go romp on down the street to some place that we all knew was going to be a trashy joint no matter what. We all hoped into a cab and told the cabbie to take us to any good strip club that was close. He said that there were only two close and only one of them was a topless bar. We wanted the whole nine yards of course so we went with the place that was a little further away but we would be able to see some boobs. When we walked into the place, we discovered that it was nearly empty, we all took seats at the front of the stage and proceeded to order strong, cheap cocktails and gawk at the finest strippers that Daytona Beach had to offer. On a Friday night in Daytona Beach you would really be shocked at what was on the table, it was interesting to say the least. I will say this though, if you are a fan of the clubs in Vegas, this will not satisfy you, hahahaha! Now that is saying a lot, if you have ever been the Rhino (best strip club ever!). I will not go into further detail about what went on in the "klassy" joint, but i will tell you that it wasn't pretty.
Looking back, I had such a great time with everyone that was on that bus. We all came to the conclusion that we were blessed to have been put together on this tour because sometimes you can get stuck with people that you do not see eye to eye with and that can cause big problems in such a small living space. I love and miss the Gamblers, "Choonimal" Chris, my MusicSkin hommies, and Joe the bus driver. Thank you guys for an unforgettable summer! i hope you guys don't get sick of hearing about all the crazy happenings on the dirty tour including, selling skateboards in a hurricane in Houston, Henri being escorted off stage by Lyman in a headlock, fishing for a crocodile in a lake in Orlando, and stupid kids asking me questions about BMTH at the wrong time. Thanks to everyone who has been reading this thing. Thanks for the support!
love,
goddam
Sorry it has taken me so long to get back here. I had a very interesting weekend...it all started on Thursday when my good pal, Nick Peterson, invited to watch his friend's football game at the University of Nevada, Reno versus Cal Berkley on Saturday. Of course I took the ticket. I get a call around 1pm on Friday, Nick says the game is tonight instead of Saturday. We took off as fast as we could and made it to the game at half-time. The Wolfpack smashed on the Bears 52-31! We didn't get back until late Saturday night. It was a great little road trip! Believe it or not, Reno is not so bad, yeah i said it hahaha. (No sign of Lt. Dangle unfortunately). Anyway, I decided that today I would share a story from my summer working on the Vans Warped Tour...
So, if you didn't know I spent the summer working for my friend, Brian Dorry (check out Hooligan Skateboards), selling skateboard decks on the traveling punk rock festival the Vans Warped Tour. It was the honestly the most fun, spontaneous, hard working, dirty, kick ass party I have ever been apart of. During the two month tour, I traveled with the infamous punk rock band, Riverboat Gamblers, on a tour bus which was also shared by a dude named Chris, who owns a clothing company called, "Choonimals", as well some cool kids working for a the MusicSkins company, (props to Frank, Jesse, "FJ" Ali, and Lucy). Ohh yea I almost forgot about the little trouble maker employed by Evil Ink comics (she will remain nameless for the sack of embarrassing someone). Traveling around the country with these people in such small living quarters is not the easiest thing to get used to, but because every one was so down to earth, it was supper easy for every one to get to know each other and develop lasting relationships. As I sit here, typing and reflecting I can only laugh and smile at all the bizarre and hilarious antic that went on. Which bring me too this heart warming story about a a buss breakdown that turned into the most fun and random "day off" from the tour.
Touring is not a particularly easy job to do, as some people want to believe. The piece of equipment that takes the biggest beating on a road trip like this, without a doubt, has to be the tour bus itself. It is also one of the most important pieces of equipment to keep in proper working condition, first priority for the bus driver is keeping his people safe and its hard to do that with a damaged bus. Let me back up a moment and explain something a little further...We started out with one driver named Shelby. What we didn't know about our driver was that she was a tweaked out (seriously, this woman was on meth), pathological liar that was unable to get us to the venues on time, who didn't take care of keeping up the bus to proper working standard, and who was just awkward to be around. She was eventually replaced by a radical dude named Joe. Anytime something needed fixing on the bus, he was on it; regular ole handyman. So after Joe took over, he had realized that Shelby had caused a substantial amount of damage to the bus because she was not careful or skilled in keeping up in proper working condition. During our 12 hour drive from Charlotte, NC to St. Petersburg, FL we broke down three different times. The first breakdown occurred in Savanna, GA, we had been stuck in a parking lot there with a broken fan belt since 3am. It was 8am and we had to wait several hours till we could get someone to fix it for us. We were in a lot of trouble because we were super behind schedule and we were beginning to come to the conclusion that we might not make it to the show that day. I was not really that upset about not setting up that day, the real part that was making me sad was that my parents and brother were going to come up from Sarasota to come visit with me and take me out to a nice dinner. As a result of the breakdowns, I had to reschedule the visit with my folks for two days later in Orlando. So I figured out that mess, but we were still stuck in Georgia, not any closer to the next show. After the fan belt was fixed we got back on the road at 1pm, but after about 45 minutes of hard driving, the bus overheated and shut itself down, we were again broken down on the side of the highway. We came to the conclusion that we were not going to make it in time for the Gamblers to play the last set of the night so we decided that we were going to make an afternoon out of our shot day and end up going to the beach and have a BBQ in Daytona
After several more beers, Ian, Fadi, and Rob of the Gamblers decide that we all need to go out to a strip club. It took some convincing, but we got a solid group of ten of us to go romp on down the street to some place that we all knew was going to be a trashy joint no matter what. We all hoped into a cab and told the cabbie to take us to any good strip club that was close. He said that there were only two close and only one of them was a topless bar. We wanted the whole nine yards of course so we went with the place that was a little further away but we would be able to see some boobs. When we walked into the place, we discovered that it was nearly empty, we all took seats at the front of the stage and proceeded to order strong, cheap cocktails and gawk at the finest strippers that Daytona Beach had to offer. On a Friday night in Daytona Beach you would really be shocked at what was on the table, it was interesting to say the least. I will say this though, if you are a fan of the clubs in Vegas, this will not satisfy you, hahahaha! Now that is saying a lot, if you have ever been the Rhino (best strip club ever!). I will not go into further detail about what went on in the "klassy" joint, but i will tell you that it wasn't pretty.
Looking back, I had such a great time with everyone that was on that bus. We all came to the conclusion that we were blessed to have been put together on this tour because sometimes you can get stuck with people that you do not see eye to eye with and that can cause big problems in such a small living space. I love and miss the Gamblers, "Choonimal" Chris, my MusicSkin hommies, and Joe the bus driver. Thank you guys for an unforgettable summer! i hope you guys don't get sick of hearing about all the crazy happenings on the dirty tour including, selling skateboards in a hurricane in Houston, Henri being escorted off stage by Lyman in a headlock, fishing for a crocodile in a lake in Orlando, and stupid kids asking me questions about BMTH at the wrong time. Thanks to everyone who has been reading this thing. Thanks for the support!
love,
goddam
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