Thursday, September 25, 2014

A bit of a peek into what Crackhead life is like...

I haven't been posting much lately, but this documentary needed to be seen by this blogs followers:

Watch and learn.

Saturday, January 25, 2014


Yes, there have been huge gaps between posts made in this blog.

When first started the posts were fairly frequent. Things that were happening to me and others around me provided a steady source of material to inform the world about. Things that 'normal' people never thought about in their day to day lives. Things that were also commonplace for the lost people like myself.

A few things of interest have occured since posting here...

In a past entry, Crack Kills, the guy who smacked his dealer in the head with a baseball bat was convicted. After pleading guilty to a general charge of murder, the charge ended up being first degree murder. That meant that Bobbie had to do some advance planning. For the life of me, this has me mystified, as he was at the best of times a couple of sammiches short of a picnic.

Crackheads being what they are though, this statement isn't surprising: 
" On the night of the killing, Page took a $500 payment from Quick to settle a crack cocaine debt. That all but depleted the paycheck Quick had received that day, Daneri said. He said the prosecution believes Page might have "rubbed that in," triggering Quick's admitted short temper."

It should also be mentioned that the victims family member said, on the deceased crack dealers behalf,  "He was a family man who never did anything wrong." 

Well almost never did anything wrong and Bobbie Quick will probably spend the rest of his days in prison.

Meanwhile, it is winter in Erie. Homeless overflow shelters are full. Funding and volunteers are needed to help those afflicted, often by no fault of their own, without a roof over their heads.  While one one has been found frozen to death behind a dumpster or a bus stop yet, it still is 53 days until spring.

In times like these any little thing can help.

Meanwhile, being a little more diligent in posting to this blog on my part will be a New Year resolution.

Shrugs...It could happen.

Wednesday, October 23, 2013

I have a dream.

"I’m homeless, and I’m an alcoholic. But I have a dream."

"What's that?"

"I want to go fishing."
Stumbled onto this pic on Tumblr. The dialog has been copy/pasted from the site as well.

Needless to say, this kicked me right in the gut. While not homeless and not alcoholic, some things have been put out of reach. Simple things that in the past have given much joy and pleasure. Many things that most of us don't give a second thought to doing, other than budgeting a bit of time.

Not to denigrate or stigmatize alcoholics, I'd rather be what I am and that...

It wanting for those types of things never hits at the right time though. The planning, even minimal thoughts as to what needs to be set aside are set aside by that beast that indeed lives inside of me. There are priorities, you know.  A friend once said that I know the consequences of my behavior and take it in stride.

While that may be true, there are times that the things that are missing hit me right in the face. The desire to enjoy a pastime so cherished in the past comes to haunt me in all sorts of different ways. To have the right equipment and licenses to enjoy this simple activity are bit beyond my reach at the moment.

To say that fishing is the only thing being set aside would be a lie. For some reason though it is one of the things that has been put away. Doing without is one thing that has been mastered. Self sacrifice for all the wrong reasons has been a way of life for awhile now

There are other appetites that need to be fed.

Tuesday, October 1, 2013

Not sure how to feel about this...

Many people might feel a cold tingling down their spine at the prospects this might present in their life. Some might make nothing or little about this situation. The thing is that there have been movies made and real life murders committed regarding this type of stuff.

The knowledge that there was a large life insurance policy in my name has always existed.

The policy was initially bought to cover business loans in the event of my untimely demise. The business had owned the policy. I had thought that once my presence from that business was terminated, the policy and the need for it would terminate as well.

I discovered awhile ago that the policy was still in effect.

Now, we all know that large corporations do indeed take out life insurance policies on the lives of key employees. Sometimes not so key employees, but it is a practice in our business world.  The initial idea was to cover the costs of training and possible income loss caused by the passing of a valuable member of the team.

In the cold, cold world of make money, make mo' money, that is no longer the case.

It is now the practice of many of these large corporations to continue paying on those policies. It's an investment. A small risk gambling that actuarial tables are on their side. A way to maximize the bottom line by doing nothing more than making token payments with the hopes that the person named in that policy shit the bed earlier than expected.

That's business for you...

There a little twist to this tale though. A twist that has me questioning motives and what is powering the kindness extended to me by others, well one, who has expressed deep loathing and hate for me in the past. A person who has been on one hand helpful on the other has been divisive and coldly calculating.

It appears that this person has acquired ownership of that policy.

Much water has passed under the bridge. Situations that could have put this in an all different light have disappeared long ago, along with all the cash puffed up by myself. There was a time all the financial woes and other perceived wrongs committed by me could have literally and figuratively been paid off.

I didn't do that and instead struck off in a different direction.

Part of it was mainly was the result of the feeling that remained after getting fucked in the ass with a Carborundum Condom.  Details of this are not included, but just lets say instead of getting the shitty end of the stick, all I got was the shit. The other part was being treated as much less than in a venture built from almost nothing but my hands and imagination.  Everybody knows that's exactly the way a crack head should be treated.

So I subscribed to the "Fuck me once, shame on you..."

Getting back to what has me feeling uncertain today, this past weekend, a day after my birthday no less, a balloon was floated by this person. They mentioned that they were considering selling the policy off. While the selling price is at a deep discount on the face value, it would be sufficient to get this person right financially and toddle off to a pleasant retirement.

Imagine my surprise that investment groups now have been set up that will buy these life insurance policies. Death pools, with a handsome payoff once the insured schmuck kicks the bucket.  The only thing required of me is signing off on this and allowing the investment group to peek at my medical information.

Then the statement was made, "You would probably make a fuss." I never knew a fuss could be made until they mentioned that little fact.

I had better watch my step.

Monday, September 2, 2013

It's starting to get ugly out there

I try to get out as much as possible. At times it a struggle to get out the door, but sunshine and fresh air are a tonic to me at times. Also on the hotter muggy days, the air down near the dock and along the bay seems to be a lot cooler than in this place.

Making my way around the dock, an old acquaintance passed by.

He looked pretty rough. He made like everything was fine, but if one had to guess, he appeared as though he hadn't had a shower or shave in more than a few days. His teeth appears to be brown and he had a nasty assed gash on his forehead. A series of stitches ran for about an inch and a half.  This fellow told me there was another series of stitches under the top layer.

We made a bit of small about how things were going.  Then I asked about the gash on his head. He said some guy came up from behind him, spun him around and cracked him in the head. Whoever it was snagged his bag containing the few belongings he owned.

Some clothes and other odds and ends, but nothing of value.

After getting beat with a club or maybe just a rock or brick he woke up in the emergency room. Thankfully the hospital was within a few blocks away from where he was assaulted.  Stitched up and back on the street, he did look like a wreck, but at least he was still sucking air.

Maybe the crook who jacked him thought that this fellow looked like he might have something of value. His bag did look like the ones used for carrying lap top computers. The thing that was troubling though, is it seems to be getting to the point where those who have nothing are trying to get what they can from others who have nothing as well.

Then again, maybe it's always been ugly out there and I just haven't been paying attention.

Monday, August 5, 2013


I've had good neighbors and some who have been great neighbors.

There have been neighbors who know pretty much everything there is to know about me. There have also been neighbors that have shared what they are about with me. They have left me in peace when that's what is needed. They have also been by when company is exactly what is called for at that time.

There have been times that drugs, weed, booze and food was shared among ourselves.  Sometimes we just sat and shared stories and and drank Kool-Aid or soda. Then there have been other neighbors that have been private people who kept to themselves. They always had a smile and would wave "Hi!" if you saw them on the street.

That's OK with me too...

As time passes people move on to better surroundings. That's the way it's supposed to work. Good things happen or opportunities present themselves.  Only a fool would pass up a chance to get out of this hole. To be completely honest, if it weren't for certain amenities in this place that serve my life style, I would be gone as well.

Some may have gone back to jail. While I can't say that this guy was exactly a friend of any sort, he respected my space and I respected his.  To say he's back in jail may be wrong, but considering his history, my money is on that fact being close to the truth. Unless he's dead, but I would have heard about his kicking the bucket.

Some do just die, but that has been talked about that quite a few posts back.

Now it seems as though Karma is evening things up a bit in regards to having good neighbors. A new neighbor has been a pain in the ass since the day they moved into this building. From the racket that was made from their moving into the place to their guests ringing the wrong bell or knocking on my door.

There is a small vestibule at the front of my apartment. In the past, when others have lived in the adjoining apartment, sometimes my bell will be rung by mistake. A few times actually, my bell been has been rung on purpose when there is no response from the other apartment.

This has been by people I knew and they either wanted information as to the whereabouts of my neighbor. I if usually didn't know or played dumb. I figured that if my neighbor wanted company, they would answer the door themselves. Other times folks have dropped of packages for a neighbor, knowing that it would get to who it was intended for without any problems.

So when my new neighbor's friends ring my bell and I answer they are usually chased away. They insist at times on coming in to knock on the other door. I push the door into their face after informing them they have rung the wrong bell. I get dirty looks, but really don't give a shit.  The way I look at it, if my neighbors want to let their friends or drug dealers in, that's there choice, not mine.

What really has been bothering me lately though is this person mistaking a bit of kindness for weakness.

When first moving in they didn't have a phone, so I allowed them a few calls to relatives or whoever to find missing appliances or to request they drop off a piece of furniture. My mistake in the last instance of using my phone was when, after offering them a few minutes of privacy to make a call. After about fifteen minutes, I knocked on their open door to retrieve my phone. That when I walked into them laying back on their couch while madly dialing away to get another call in.

Fuck that shit.

Then there is the cigarette thing. Once they knocked and asked if they could have a smoke. I passed on five or six. That should be sufficient until they could get to a store and buy their own. After all, it was late at night and an open store is a walk through a bad neighborhood to get a pack.

I was kind of surprised when the following morning there was another knock on the door for smokes. Figuring they were just getting up, I passed two more butts through the door.  About six hours later they were knocking on the door again. This time I gave them one smoke.

Things quieted down for a day or so until the knocking came again at my door.  This time I was told they were getting their check and as soon as it came, they were going to the bank to cash it and buy me a pack of smokes.

I'm still waiting for those smokes.

So now when the door is being knocked on, I usually ignore the pounding. Sometimes I do answer and am out of whatever is being requested. Sometimes and more frequently now I just reply that I am busy or have company. Whether busy or not, company or not, I am too busy to come to the door.

So it now it usually goes like this:
Knock! Knock! Knock! Knock!
"I'm busy!"

"I"M BUSY!!!"