What were the skies like when you were young?

They went on forever – They - When I w- We lived in Arizona, and the skies always had little fluffy clouds in 'em, and, uh... they were long... and clear and... there were lots of stars at night. And, uh, when it would rain, it would all turn - it- They were beautiful, the most beautiful skies as a matter of fact. Um, the sunsets were purple and red and yellow and on fire, and the clouds would catch the colours everywhere. That's uh, neat 'cause I used to look at them all the time, when I was little. You don't see that. You might still see them in the desert.

Posted at at September 19, 2019 on Thursday, September 19, 2019 by |   | Filed under:

Fentanyl for the Soul

I escaped from the clutches of some holy rolling treatment center in Arizona.

“Jesus is Fentanyl for my soul!”

“Give him 40 CC’s — Christ Conquers!”

Couple other ones I hope I remember whenever the seroquel wears off. That shit needs to use “Goodnight, Cruel World” as a marketing slogan.

I guess I’m dense. They kept talking about suiciding me and I half expected some sinister figure to approach me and say “Hillary Clinton sends her regards” before bashing me with a dumbbell or whatever.

They meant suicide precautions.

Oh, whew. Glad we cleared that up.


*backs slowly towards the door*

This nurse was going to refuse to give my my heart and HIV meds to make an example of me for being late for medication.

I wanted to punch a wall or flip over the medication cart and throw it at her. And there are people I’ve known my whole life who’ve never seen me raise my voice or lose my temper.

The next day I pointed out that they’d release the fucking hounds to remind everyone to attend AA, but that as a licensed medical facility they were dead set against reminding people to take medications.

The place is designed like a fucking casino. Why the fuck would anyone have any concept of time in there?

They quickly changed some policies and started announcing medication times on the PA.

Speaking of the F word, their thing was clean language, clean living.

I tried to come up with a little song:

“Frack frack frack a duck... say how do you do to a kangaroo? Say good morning gang to the orangutans, let’s play legos at the zoo!”

I stayed sane by leaving voicemails for Chris with way better stuff.

Like the song “Fever:”

When I put my load inside you,
I’ll give you an H - I - V scare!
When you put your legs around me,
I’m gonna put it in and pump you bare
We’re smoking Tina!
In the morning,
Tina all through the night!

I had fun with the residents at least.

Two of them were playing Zombie on the guitar. The Guy Who Never Says Anything snuck up on them and sang it.

I bonded with the other gay Eskimo in our tribe.

He talked about how the gay meetings were all toxic here, too.

Et tu, Brujas?

Straight AA meetings are toxic as fuck, too.

So I’m sitting there in my Britney Spears T-shirt making penises out of play-doh and sticking the bendy figurine’s legs behind his head.

This volcanic bitch asks me if I’m re-living the trauma of my addiction. I lost it and just about cried laughing.

I signed out against medical advice. Frack that place.

A few of the staff came by to tell me I’m probably going to relapse.

I so love it when Christians share the Good News with me.

The last straw was this dickbag with Ed Hardy tattoos snarling at me and saying my inventory was correct and that they do not have two car keys, as I’ve repeatedly told them they have.

Then the other guy goes “no, he’s right, we have two.”

20% of the unit had completed their program MORE THAN ONCE and here they are again so fuck right off and curve me with that shit.

Just another also-ran rehab scam that regurgitates BillShit and charges your insurance $3000+ a day for it.

Posted at at September 17, 2019 on Tuesday, September 17, 2019 by |   | Filed under:


Jacob: “Do you want these? They’re brand new. They’re a size ten and a half, but I wear a twelve.”

“Uh, sure. What’s with the blood though?

“Some motherfucker I stomped out.”

Posted at at September 14, 2019 on Saturday, September 14, 2019 by |   | Filed under:

Doctor Rob’s Nightmare: The Hallucinogenic Chicken Salad Sandwich

The shhhh becomes a zzzzzzhhhhhhh
There’s the sensation of a square wheel spinning slowly, clockwise in front of my mind
In the beginning,
In the beginning,
There was a sound.
The wheel is the energy of my mind
Square shaped
Landing on each side

Posted at at September 13, 2019 on Friday, September 13, 2019 by |   | Filed under:

Loving you through all of your human problems exhausts me

These are wounds, not scars
It will only be a scar when it stops bleeding, stops hurting
You can forget about scars
But you cannot forget about wounds
Everyone meets the injured with sympathy or disgust
Do you need a tissue?
No, I need stitches.

— Brother Ali

Posted at at September 09, 2019 on Monday, September 9, 2019 by |   | Filed under:


the difference
between a kaleidoscope and a telescope;

is that the telescope:
shows you reality from a distance

and the kaleidoscope:
shows you a distance from reality

Posted at at September 07, 2019 on Saturday, September 7, 2019 by |   | Filed under:

Everywhere is my Bathroom

Some say that a toilet is a fundamental right
But McDonald’s lobby closes at 10 o clock at night
No Public Restrooms in the grocery store
I hear someone pissing all over the floor

I stared at him in horror
And my eyes got real big,
“Why not head over to Folsom
To find a watersports pig?”

A gentleman joins him and I avert my eyes:
“You must be new here,” he impatiently sighs
He squats down on Market and shits on the street
And some of it splashes all over my feet

I head to the Tenderloin ,
Near Felt and Van Ness
I’m trying to find an alley
To leave a big wet brown mess

Some junkie is watching, I expect him to cringe
He says I just left a hypodermic syringe
In my steaming hot offering
Under the Alvord Lake Bridge

I demand to see the mayor of this urine soaked town
(No problem sir, she will be right down)
Ms Mayor, I beseech you, this has gone way too far
She says “Try Uber Toilet, you just shit in the car!”

They’ll send one to you,
wherever you are:
You can leave them a tip,
and they’ll tweeze your brown star!

No thank you, I prefer to squat on a bowl
And wipe my bottom clean with a soft Charmin roll
Your sanitation problem is out of control,
I will see myself out of this filthy shithole

Posted at at September 07, 2019 on by |   | Filed under:

Standing on the Edge of the Planet

If you love somebody, set them free.

If you hate somebody, set them free.

Never mind, set everybody free: 

People are fucking stupid.

My life doesn’t scream of abundance but I had enough to share with others.

I always said I have everything that I need and a whole bunch of shit I don’t need.

Often times just enough for the both of us.

I’m asking strangers for simple stuff like taking a shower.

And I’m just hoping they do the once over and don’t think I’m a total piece of shit.

Never accept a meal from someone who will brag about feeding you.

It would mean more to me if you decided I’m an alright guy all on your own.

Posted at at September 06, 2019 on Friday, September 6, 2019 by |   | Filed under:

Indoctrination Camp

It’s quite a remarkable accomplishment for someone to emerge from college even dumber than they were when they went in.

Especially a dumb plastic bitch like Kylon Hooks.

I realize then and there that I’m muttering “dumb plastic bitch” out loud as I’m typing at the gas pump.

Some goth guy emerged from the other side of the pump, folded his arms, and scowled at me.

What’re you going to do? Stab me with your eyeliner?

Posted at at September 02, 2019 on Monday, September 2, 2019 by |   | Filed under:

Good morning

Posted at at August 31, 2019 on Saturday, August 31, 2019 by |   | Filed under:

I sought him, but I found him not.

On my bed by night I swiped through profiles and sought him whom my soul loves; I sought him, but found him not.

I will rise now and go about the city, in the streets and in the squares; I will seek him who my soul loves.

I sought him, but found him not.

The Leathermen found me as I went about the city:

“Have you seen him who my soul loves?”

One of them asked if I’m into father/son role play: He paddled and flogged me and I reported him to child protective services.

I said to him: “I never liked my father.”

I sought him, but I found him not.

I created an account on Recon: They immediately banned me for saying that my fetish was “monogamy.”

I sought him, but I found him not.

I traveled to Europe in search of self destruction and romance: I was offered something called Meow Meow in Belgium and then I woke up at an orgy in Portugal.

I sought him, but I found him not.

My date from Grindr stole my wallet, car keys, and a wireless keyboard: He wasn’t even cute.

I sought him, but I found him not.

O, daughters of Scruff, I adjure you: by the incels and the hoes playing the field, that you not stir up or awaken love until it pleases.

Posted at at August 28, 2019 on Wednesday, August 28, 2019 by |   | Filed under:

Orange Jumpsuits

Orange jumpsuits are durable
Orange jumpsuits are comfy
Damn, I look fresh in orange with a new pair of gleaming white K-Swiss Velcro shoes
Beige khakis are ugly
Beige khakis arent snuggly
Strike a pose against the cinder blocks in a crisp white clean Hanes crew cut shirt.
Blue scrubs never fit right
Blue scrubs, too loose, too tight
But they’re easy to wash, just give me clean undies and socks
Orange jumpsuits are durable
Orange jumpsuits are comfy
I’d wear them on the outs
If cops wouldn’t scream “FREEZE” or “HALT!”
My milkshake brings all the boys out to the rec yard.

Posted at at August 07, 2019 on Wednesday, August 7, 2019 by |   | Filed under:

“Flying Monkeys”

“Flying Monkeys are enablers who continue a narcopath’s abuse by proxy.”

That pretty much summarizes a bunch of stepper fucktards (and a few dumb fucks in the gay community ... but there’s some overlap here) who have obediently chucked rocks at me on command with no questions asked.

No need to endlessly go into detail then, is there?

Because it is always the exact same story. The only thing that ever changes are the lies.

Language of Letting Go for August 6:

“Today, I will learn to trust solutions, rather than be victimized by problems. I will not use problems to prove I am helpless, picked on, or martyred. I will not point to my problems to prove how awful life is. I will learn to trust the flow of problems and solutions. God, help me solve the problems I can solve today. Help me let go of the rest. Help me believe in my ability to tackle and solve problems. Help me trust the flow. For each problem, there is a solution.”

Without a doubt the rooms of recovery have two camps:

Trauma victims and wife beating pieces of shit.

That’s alcoholism for you.

It’s funny how they have a lot of language and cliches around telling victims to shut up and be silent and stop being a victim:

“Look at your part in it.”

Yet they have nearly nothing to say with regard to telling assholes and bullies to stop being assholes and bullies. Yay, a win for 13th step and predatory culture. Knuckle sammitches for everyone if they burn the roast or don’t do the dishes, amirite?

They never examine their part in anything, they never apologize, they’d rather die, they’d rather you die. And then they’re the ones pounding their chests about their clean time and their aaahhhhhmazing program.

Yeah, okay, they’ve worked a fearless and thorough 8th and 9th step, gotcha.

And I’ll eat my own dick live on cam, lol.

I see a problem because the traumatized crowd is the more vulnerable one. They are sensitive to evil and they are allergic to injustice. They have that black and white thinking from an earlier post where they can’t just say “I don’t like this thing you said or did,” it becomes “I don’t like YOU.”

So they run into a couple of mean old biddies or dry drunk pricks and it’s not “wow, that guy was a jerk,” it’s “I’m never going back to AA.”

That’s why the website can no longer be an “NA chatroom,” because if we fuck up now then we are just some website you didn’t enjoy... rather than “wow, fuck NA, those guys were jerks.”

Some members — former members as the case may be — of the group hate my guts because I ban the fuck out of or demote bullies and I force communications out in the open so they can’t manipulate or predate or harass you or play their flying monkey game with every innocent collateral bystander who wanders in.

AA World Services is voting on enabling a chat room at their upcoming world convention.

It may be necessary for a specific audience to understand the kinds of problems and issues the group has faced and what we have done about them.

Do I personally have a need to be known as someone who has experienced these things?

Not really.

Not unless it serves to inspire someone else to survive something or better yet avoid it altogether.

A lot of these sites have the same problems — and many have been shuttered over them. I’ve talked to several other owners including In The Rooms and NA By Phone.

We all know nachat.net almost *immediately* stole my idea of setting people in +RD mode to ban private messages, and it wasn’t to keep them from swapping quiche recipes, discussing the Basic Text, or sending each other thoughtful and encouraging notes LOL.

I swear some of them think that working 1, 2, and 3 means how many fingers you can get in your hoo ha on Skype, smh.

So you have to understand that while it’s “a part of my story,” it’s also “a part of our story.”

This is a part of the story for people who operate and frequent websites I’ve never been on.

I’m just the only one talking about it or trying to do something different.

What do I get out of being a victim anyway?

The boys just go “oh — that ones broken, girl she’s a defective Rubik’s cube.”

Meh. Fuck em. I was built for other things than attracting boys.

There’s your story. I’ve deleted most of the other posts.

NA World Services still sucks — they’re still a bunch of corrupt assholes who stole the intellectual property of the fellowship, they only care about selling literature and they do not give a fuck about working with addicts or if you live or die. I am not walking that one back.

Posted at at August 06, 2019 on Tuesday, August 6, 2019 by |   | Filed under:


Look up at the stars, look up at the moon:
Only you know and they know,
What they have guided you through.

God rides me like a hood rat in a stolen Camaro:
He picked me up like a needle on a record,
And then he put me in another groove.

Posted at at August 05, 2019 on Monday, August 5, 2019 by |   | Filed under:

Miss Susie

The West Virginia law firm
Miss Susie quit and left
Had Miss Susie arrested,
Accusing her of

Theres an NA chat room
Things were going fine
Miss Susie logged upon it
And endlessly she’d

Wine’s for alcoholics
It’s Susie’s drug of choice
Please moderate the channel
And take away her

Jar of massage oil,
I’ll text you but don’t tell
Miss Susie, that’s my boyfriend
Jessie was mad as

Three hundred fucking dollars
Old Stan began to yell
Miss Susie wore both jerseys
You all can go to

Yes hello your honor
I’m so sick I almost died
I have stage 3 nymphomania
My claim, it was

Send me no more emails
Tell me no more lies
World class manipulator
Playing off both sides

Posted at at August 04, 2019 on Sunday, August 4, 2019 by |   | Filed under:

I have had trouble in "yarn stores" in the past.

June: "I was quite disappointed. My friend and I visited. We are from the States and that was obvious as we were talking quite a bit. Not one of the two workers paid us any attention. I own my own shop and I am always quite curious where everyone new is from. Especially when I know that they are from out of town. They have no business whatsoever running a yarn store, they have no idea how to run a yarn store correctly!"

Susan: "It is a STORE not a social club! June has unrealistic expectations. It is a yarn store. You buy yarn and then you LEAVE."

Rachael: "I've been to June's yarn store and I'm 100% convinced that she only opened it so that she could have all her friends over for a nosy knitting circle where they interrogate everybody that comes in!"

June: "We're just interested in you and trying to get to know you better, that's all."

Belle: "I don't think you understand how yarn stores work. Maybe I am reading this wrong, but I have had trouble in yarn stores in the past. Let me try to explain: Yarn stores are meeting places where women sit together and knit for hours at a time. The idea is, you work on your project and you have conversations and get to know people and make friends. Some yarn stores welcome new people into the circle, and ask them where they are from and what they are working on. Friendly yarn stores deserve stars and compliments, because they are great to hang out in! But some yarn stores are favored by inbred groups of mean old biddies who have known each other since high school and don't want to talk to outsiders. They give you side looks if you try to join the conversation and try to make you feel uncomfortable. This kind of yarn store is less desirable-"

Susan: "Or maybe June really is as shallow and self-centered as she appears."

Belle: "It is possible that June did not express herself well. There is also a possibility that she is just a normal knitter and the people at the store really did give her the cold shoulder. I mean, it happens."

* Adapted from a Reddit discussion about actual yarn stores.

Posted at at August 02, 2019 on Friday, August 2, 2019 by |   | Filed under:


3 o'clock, just can't close my eyes
Something's wrong with me
I can't deal, I can't go to sleep
There's something in my heart
The streets keep calling me

— Thundercat, 3AM

Posted at at August 02, 2019 on by |   | Filed under:

Current Status 😒

Beauty can be sad; you're proof of that
When the damage is done, you're damaged goods
That's not to say it's not okay
I wouldn't have it any other way

A heart, a heart that hurts, is a heart, a heart that works
A heart, a heart that hurts, is a heart, a heart that works

Sweet, sweet pain comes with the sun
Lie down and soak it up, burn off layers of insulators
Exposed nose to the cold, I'm bleeding pretty colors
Yeah, all over myself

A heart, a heart that hurts, is a heart, a heart that works
A heart, a heart that hurts, is a heart, a heart that works

Black wave comes to take me away
I ride it almost to the grave
Landing on a crowded shore, high-fiving
What a trip; I'm better for it
I feel a live sensation

A heart, a heart that hurts, is a heart, a heart that works
A heart, a heart that hurts, is a heart, a heart that works
A heart, a heart that hurts, is a heart, a heart that works
A heart, a heart that hurts, is a heart, a heart that works
A heart, a heart that hurts, is a heart, a heart that works
A heart, a heart that hurts, is a heart, a heart that works

— Juliana Hatfield, Universal Heartbeat

Posted at at July 26, 2019 on Friday, July 26, 2019 by |   | Filed under:

Well, then.

I think that I would prefer to die loaded than put myself in a situation where I let another toxic, fucked up, malicious, dishonest shithead twelve stepper get their talons around me again in real life or on the Internet.

If only I could find it in myself to despise drugs and alcohol as much as I despise AA and NA and the fucking assholes that both of them are overrun with.

It took me about a month of classes for drug counseling for me to realize that AA and NA were even more fucking useless and flawed than I already thought they were. Everything I was being told ran counter to what I’d picked up in eleven years in the rooms. I was in a place where I was willing to listen to some new information and accept it.

Not like that weird lady who had a fit in orientation or anyone who objected in class to anything that didn’t resonate with AA culture or teachings.


Oh my god, a lot of things happen in this world every day that are horrifying. Whether or not you’re personally aware of any of them happening does not make them any less true.

True Nut Job Believers were both amusing and horrifying in class — they’d give their testimony about how they were saved from a park bench and were there to save EVERYONE with AA. It was kind of funny watching licensed professionals — even a couple psychologists and therapists just trying to expand their training — trying to not choke on their coffee or belie any reaction whatsoever to these irrelevant outbursts.

I don’t know. I was happy to be there and enjoying myself. But I also hadn’t been working all day before class either.

This is the reason that the bar needs to be set a little bit higher than “any idiot with a GED who scraped himself off of a park bench and joined a stupid fucking cult and wants to use this job to tell every client he encounters to join his stupid fucking cult too... whether or not it makes sense for that client ...and also presumably to tell anyone who his stupid fucking cult wasn't helpful in ANY way shape or form to that they just need to go back and try even harder this time.”

That’s when I started realizing that people who don’t listen to you and immediately shove you into their agenda for you are not as helpful as they think they are.

AA is like playing the lottery, some asshole wins the jackpot and tells the rest of us that playing lotto TOTALLY worked for them and we should sell everything and buy scratch off tickets.

Whatever, new girl. Stick around and watch the 5 year, 10 year, and 20 year drop out rates.

“Our movements have torn a hole through you.”

Oh, well.

Posted at at July 22, 2019 on Monday, July 22, 2019 by |   | Filed under:

The betsy bot is actually kind of spot on

Posted at at July 16, 2019 on Tuesday, July 16, 2019 by |   | Filed under:

Fast Facts about Black Beans

They're black.

And they're beans.

We put them into these here tin cans, you see.

What can you tell me about your lives if this town is a place that you find yourselves rescued to instead of rescued from?

Only this:

Daddy usually prefers the company of Dustin.

Posted at at July 15, 2019 on Monday, July 15, 2019 by |   | Filed under:


Daddy’s worth millions but he left you where he found you busting your ass working your second shift for the day in a restaurant off of some dirt road over in this rural town.

I’m not sure why you wish you were his and only his.

Maybe it’s the way he checks up on you.

Maybe it’s the way he keeps you from your friends.

Maybe it’s the way he keeps you at arms length and doesn’t give you what you want.

Doesn’t that just make you weak in the knees?

You say this man could change your life, if only.

You sound lonely.

Maybe someday Daddy will whisk you away to that factory town that the rest of the world rolls their windows up and holds their noses for and drives through as quickly as possible. Perhaps you can take a tour of the cannery together and learn everything there is to know about black beans.

And then what?

A quiet lifetime of whispering to faceless men a hundred miles away in their homes with their great big walk in closets in which they will neatly fold and put their sexuality away at night along with any scent or trace or memory of you before they kiss their wives goodnight?

Changing people’s lives doesn’t give you a lot to show for it other than changing people’s lives.

I wonder if Daddy ever thinks about the patterns in your irises when you’re not in his arms at night.

Posted at at July 14, 2019 on Sunday, July 14, 2019 by |   | Filed under:


“Hablas español?”

“Un poco.”



“What do you know in Spanish?“

No encuentro nada en esta oscuridad
No encuentro nada en esta oscuridad
Pero cuando te siento llegar , ah hah
Se va

Posted at at July 12, 2019 on Friday, July 12, 2019 by |   | Filed under:

I will take that as a compliment.

I woke up from a dream:

“Your movements are beginning to wear US out.”

I sat up in bed and grinned harder than I ever have in my life.

Posted at at July 11, 2019 on Thursday, July 11, 2019 by |   | Filed under:

Now I see why Chris liked this place so much

Posted at at July 11, 2019 on by |   | Filed under:

Hearts Collide

I don't mind being alone
Keep myself to myself
I walk the streets in the rain
And keep my head down

'Cause I've been brokenhearted
And maybe I'm guilty of the same
But suddenly something started
I'm like a moth into the flame

Baby when our hearts collide
We're leaving a whole world behind
The planets and the stars align
Holding back the hands of time

Feet kept firm on the ground
But my head got lost in the clouds
Hands in pockets and dreams
In hidden places

So I've been brokenhearted
And may be I'm guilty of the same
But suddenly something started
I'm like a moth into the flame

Baby when our hearts collide
We're leaving a whole world behind
The planets and the stars align
Holding back the hands of time

'Cause the past is over and the future's far away

Maybe heaven sends a sign
Baby when our hearts collide
Baby when our hearts collide
We're leaving a whole world behind
The planets and the stars align
Holding back the hands of time

'Cause the past is over and the future's far away

Maybe heaven sends a sign
Baby when our hearts collide
Baby when our hearts collide
Baby when our hearts collide

— Little Boots , Hearts Collide

Source: LyricFind
Songwriters: Richard Stannard / Julian Peake / Victoria Hesketh

Posted at at July 09, 2019 on Tuesday, July 9, 2019 by |   | Filed under:


Posted at at July 08, 2019 on Monday, July 8, 2019 by |   | Filed under:


In 2008 or so I was working for ACS Healthcare doing the re-design work for health.gov and healthfinder.gov — new Dell servers, some shit had been hacked by China, some other issues.

I was working out of SAMHSA’s offices in... fuck I don’t even know where, Rockville Maryland or something like that? I always called it Rocktropolis in my old blog.

I used to do rails of coke in SAMHSA’s office, which I thought was fucking HILARIOUS.

It might have just been the call center. Small world huh?

You probably don’t believe me, but I guarantee you anyone who knows me will be like, yeah, if anyone did that it would be that fucking queen.

For what it’s worth I carried a sack and was sniffing it everywhere, it’s not like SAMHSA was special.

Weirdest little known fact about the Department of Health is that it’s actually a separate branch of the US Military! They have uniforms and  rankings and these cool skirts and stuff. They salute each other and then I guess they go down into some bunker where they get the missles ready to deploy on my ex boyfriend Will’s supergonnorhea.

I’m making that last part up.

The missles, not the supergonorrhea.

The kitty was aiight I’d still -


During the re-design there was a huge push to edit the content to a (sixth? eighth? fourth?) grade reading level. A couple of a people were copying and pasting articles manually from the old template to the new redesigned template.

So, yeah I know who and what they are and yo hablo un poco some evidence based approaches or whatever I guess.

I just remember someone casually handing me the article for alcoholism.

I finished that one.

Then they’d slide me the one for addiction.

So I finished that one.

Are you... tryna say something?

Fuck that’s so shady we should have been friends! 😭😭😭

And then I was asked to not return.

Story of my life. “What the fuck was he ON?”

*whips out the adding machine and starts punching buttons furiously*

Fuck!! What wasn’t I on? I don’t even know what’s in the trail mix!!!

I remembered them and included some info about them this time.

Posted at at July 08, 2019 on by |   | Filed under:

So much for that idea

Posted at at July 08, 2019 on by |   | Filed under:

Start them early, I guess

If it were my kid, I’d be snatching credit card brochures out of their hands until they’re about 40.

Posted at at July 05, 2019 on Friday, July 5, 2019 by |   | Filed under:


Posted at at July 04, 2019 on Thursday, July 4, 2019 by |   | Filed under:

So that I may see the face of God in all people and all experiences

Little Thérèse
Spending your eternal Heaven
Doing good upon the earth

I ask, please,
Pick a bloom from the gardens of Paradise
And send it down to me
With a message
Of your gentle love

Oh little flower, Thérèse,
Powerful, in every need, body and spirit,
From the heart of God
Please, grant this favor, and now, please,
Confidence, in your hands,
I beseech you

Send me your majestic rain of roses
So that I may share your grace
Bless me with blooms of lily
Blooms of violet
Blooms of buttercups
Blooms of lilac
Blooms of jasmine
Blooms of hyacinth
Blooms of honeysuckle
Blooms of magnolia
Blooms of gardenia
Blooms of tuberose
Let fall from Heaven, please,
The Shower of Flowers
Let me be anointed with the splendor of their perfumed essence
So that I may see the face of God
In all people, and in all experiences.

Oh my glorious sister Thérèse
Prodigy of miracles
Your petals unfurled
I implore your miraculous intercession
Whisper to me,
Help me to always
Trust as you did
In God our Father's great love for me
So that in your fragrant path
I might imitate your venerable little way
and walk heroically
Holding the blossom of grace with me each day.

Let fall from Heaven, please,
The Shower of Flowers
Let me be anointed with the splendor of their perfumed essence
So that I may see the face of God in all people and in all experiences
So that in your fragrant path
I might imitate your venerable little way.

Posted at at July 03, 2019 on Wednesday, July 3, 2019 by |   | Filed under:

Ohhhhh, “Lid.” 😒

Posted at at July 02, 2019 on Tuesday, July 2, 2019 by |   | Filed under:

Eight rainbows in the Utah sky, watching clouds reflect in puddles as I’m driving by

Mormons believe that the earth will be renewed and rebuilt to its paradisiacal glory. I hope they carefully disassemble Utah, put it away in storage, and then put it back exactly the way that it is. Except maybe without the plastic litter.

Posted at at July 01, 2019 on Monday, July 1, 2019 by |   | Filed under:


On some level I believe we are all connected at source and that we are little raindrops of light in an ocean of light.

There is nothing that I am that you are not.

In that space everything that I experience and everything that you experience and everything we all experience occurs and exists simultaneously and without contradiction.

Heaven knows what you’ve been through.

My worst enemy is my brother or my sister or my friend. Will I remember that? Will you?

This whole idea of white light or source is a little too celestial and abstract, even if you believe in this you can forget it when you need to remember it most, just like everyone else.

That visualization and that concept work in the realm of the spirit where we are all connected as one but it’s not as tangible on our divided and broken planet.

What is the term for a paradigm where I can’t be something without there also being something that I am not? I’ll edit this when I remember where I’m going with it.

EDIT: Duality !!

I love the idea of flowers:

Roses and violets and wildflowers and daffodils and pretty little purple flowers growing in Utah along with the dandelions pushing up through some concrete.

Flowers are a better metaphor for the reality of what people are while they’re here.

That’s actually something I think I can put into daily practice.

Posted at at July 01, 2019 on by |   | Filed under:

Not all of those who are lost, wander.

My beat up and stinky old J’s have seen the sands of the Bahia Honda and Jamala Beach but nothing has made my heart more glad than waking up and seeing the red sands of Utah on them.

There’s an old saying in the rooms that “the only thing you have to change is everything,” and even that will never be enough to please a narcis-

Shh, don’t ruin this.

*click, set, go*

Posted at at June 30, 2019 on Sunday, June 30, 2019 by |   | Filed under:

“Deeper heart lines could show that your interpersonal relationships are significant to your life.”

I don't have a heart line anymore, I have a fucking crater.

Posted at at June 29, 2019 on Saturday, June 29, 2019 by |   | Filed under:

An Eye For An Eye Makes The Whole World High

I feel raindrops falling washing off my tears
I been walking through a daydream all my years
Oh I do believe in world peace my dear, I do
Wise women will call your name
If you believe in impossible things
If you believe if it grows from seeds to a beautiful tree
What you want, what you want, you want
Sun don't shine
And we all know why
Bullets keep flying
So many shooting
In the darkest times
Through the darkest night
What you want what you want
Sun don't shine
And we all know why
Bullets keep flying
So many crying
In the darkest night
Through the darkest times
What you want what you want
I can feel it in the air it just grew thin
Then the numbers they be counting coming in
Do you believe in world peace my friend

— Kaytranada, Bullets

Posted at at June 28, 2019 on Friday, June 28, 2019 by |   | Filed under:

The Lottery (A New Chatroom Owner is Nominated)

It’s Tessie,” Mr. Summers said, and his voice was hushed. “Show us her paper, Bill. “

Bill Hutchinson went over to his wife and forced the slip of paper out of her hand. 

It had a black spot on it, the black spot Mr. Summers had made the night before with the heavy pencil in the coal company office. 

Bill Hutchinson held it up, and there was a stir in the crowd.

“All right, folks. ”
 Mr. Summers said. “Let’s finish quickly. “

Although the villagers had forgotten the ritual and lost the original black box, they still remembered to use stones. 

The pile of stones the boys had made earlier was ready; there were stones on the ground with the blowing scraps of paper that had come out of the box 

Delacroix selected a stone so large she had to pick it up with both hands and turned to Mrs. Dunbar. “Come on,” she said. “Hurry up. “

Mrs. Dunbar had small stones in both hands, and she said, gasping for breath: “I can’t run at all. You’ll have to go ahead and I’ll catch up with you. “

The children had stones already. 

And someone gave little Davy Hutchinson a few pebbles.

Tessie Hutchinson was in the center of a cleared space by now, and she held her hands out desperately as the villagers moved in on her. “

It isn’t fair,” she said. 

A stone hit her on the side of the head.

Old Man Warner was saying, “Come on, come on, everyone. ” 

Steve Adams was in the front of the crowd of villagers, with Mrs. Graves beside him.

“It isn’t fair, it isn’t right,” Mrs. Hutchinson screamed, and then they were upon her.

Posted at at June 19, 2019 on Wednesday, June 19, 2019 by |   | Filed under:

We got them pretty good a couple of times.

Full Disclosure: Yeah we fucked with them too.

Here's what I did.

When Betsy and Billy launched recovery.free-***.org , I bought sexaddictchat.com and posted flyers for it all over San Francisco since she was foaming at the mouth about perverts all the time. It took her about five days to melt down and delete her website.

Visitors to sexaddictchat.com were dropped into Betsy's chatroom via Mibbit and they just kept coming ... LOL guuuuurrrrrrrrrrrllllll she was so mad.

The second time around I bought betsysbiblechat.com and dropped it into her chatroom since she hates Jesus and the Bible so much.

The room was raided by people sharing videos of the Christchurch Mosque Shooting the night it happened. The thing is, everyone was speaking Portuguese so I am not sure what exactly was going on. I hope I didn't like accidentally turn the VPC into a terror camp or something. :(

Posted at at June 18, 2019 on Tuesday, June 18, 2019 by |   | Filed under:

I don’t say “sober.”

I don’t say “sober.”
I don’t have to chant slogans.
I never need to go back in there.
I can stay home - theirs is no solution.
The only thing that is baffling and cunning
Is that these dumb steppers agree with this shit
I can find the Orange Papers and log on
I can find some detailed info about what they really are.
Accept they are a dangerous cult and make some changes.
I can make some new friends
And not go into that stuffy old church basement with my old ones.
A lot of addicts will go back to meetings, but I don’t have to.
Not if I block my sponsor and call him a jerk.
Take a deep breath...
If I can accept the truth and put away my fantasy about a faith healing treatment for a pseudo disorder 
And that virtually no one stays sober through the steps,
One day I might finally be clean.

Posted at at June 17, 2019 on Monday, June 17, 2019 by |   | Filed under:

The night's still young even if we aren't anymore.

"I told Jeff about you and he asked who you are. I said you were the one where we were all driving down I-55 together somewhere in La Grange and you were throwing rocks and shit at a train. He went 'Oh, that guy!' "

“I told Jeremy about you. He said we're probably going to end up doing a bunch of ecstasy and breaking into a church and declaring our love for each other in front of a half broken Virgin Mary statue. It's almost like he knows us."

"The night's still young."

Posted at at June 15, 2019 on Saturday, June 15, 2019 by |   | Filed under:

"I own the name with the government."

Janis is under the belief that since she incorporated "NACHAT LLC" in the State of New Jersey, she now "owns the name with the government" and "can sue" us and close the other room.

I don't even know where to begin with Janis her sundry fucking delusions and false beliefs -- dear god, that would be a full time job -- but I will take a stab at this particular one.


Just to prove a point, I've obtained the following determination from the US Patent Office.

Posted at at June 14, 2019 on Friday, June 14, 2019 by |   | Filed under: ,

A little story about change from within

The aggressive hard sell at 4:00am does not work with people on the Internet and you're going to run them right out the door.

*** sucia has joined the room.
<sucia> hi
<mc> sucia ?? Oof
<Mike112780> 👋 sucia  welcome
<mc> why that name ??
<sucia> cause I'm not clean
<mc> i know
<mc> but like 😭😭😭
<sucia> lol
<mc> i shouldve thought of that 😪
<Mike112780> sucia: do you want to stop using?
<sucia> im here, right ?
<mc> oof
<mc> heyy calm down there 👇
<Mike112780> We get all kinds here....no offense intended
<sucia> I can only imagine :)
<Mike112780> sucia: have you ever attended NA meetings?
<sucia> just like a real meeting then huh
<sucia> some, we have one on Wednesdays I have not been in a long time
<sucia> and that feels like a very long ways away
<Mike112780> As our literature says: those who attend our meetings regularly stay clean.
<sucia> its 4:00 in the morning I just want to chat instead of getting high
<sucia> I didn't really want my ass jumped all over
<sucia> sorry if that seems rude
<Mike112780> that's a start!
<Mike112780> sucia realize the primary purpose of this chatroom is to carry the NA message of recovery. So yeah attending meetings and chit will be mentioned, often.
<sucia> I have been here several times, it wasn't this aggressive and I don't appreciate that shit
<sucia> I regret coming in now
<Mike112780> can't talk to the drugs....
<•Robert> i was sucia, just testing the waters
<•Robert> i guess you cant talk to the condescension

Posted at at June 14, 2019 on by |   | Filed under: ,

Not Tonight

We went to bed and I started feeling the PTSD creep in.

He put his ear up to my carotid artery and said “your heartbeat changed, you’re worried about something.”

I wasn’t ready for this discussion yet.

He told me to listen to his: It was going about a good 120+ bpm.

He said “that’s what you do to me.”

The thing about PTSD is you either get hyper vigilance or a flight instinct.

(Or both.)

I can fool the latter by going out to my car and listening to music for a few minutes.

It usually satisfies the instinct to leave an environment I’m internally regarding as unsafe or threatening.

Often times I just... actually leave, and that works too.

I was bummed and going aw fuck I would have given anything for this, not tonight, please.

He held his pinkie out and asked me to promise I wouldn’t go home.

I looked him in the eye and said I won’t make a promise unless I’m sure I can keep it.

He accepted that and he had better know exactly what the fuck I mean by that.

And then he did what basically nobody else ever could and calmed me out of it.

Oh my god, this is why it was always you.

Posted at at June 13, 2019 on Thursday, June 13, 2019 by |   | Filed under:

"How do you get one?"

"And for newcomers in their first thirty days, we have a white DUNCE KEYTAG!"

"How do you get one?"

"All you have to do is suck on a pipe, bitch! I'll leave one up here on the box in case you're shy or don't like me and don't want to hug me, or you just like to steal things!"

I left wondering if I would ever attend another one of those dreadful things again.

Posted at at June 12, 2019 on Wednesday, June 12, 2019 by |   | Filed under:

Might go to an NA meeting later, idk

Posted at at June 11, 2019 on Tuesday, June 11, 2019 by |   | Filed under:


Everybody prays to god by different names
Tell me your version
You don’t have to play it down or fake it
Don’t give me that bullshit
Driving in the parking lot in the shades with counterfeit leather
Looking like a circus clown
Gone crazy when we are together
Heaven don’t play like violins
I been up over mountains
You’re not a book that I read
But I know how you worry 

But I know how you love me

Everybody frames the stars in silhouettes
A great exhibition
Even if the fates are wrong or innocent
We all want to listen
But it doesn’t pay to wait
For so long on just a reflection
If you want to cash your stake in the answers then ask me the questions
Heaven don’t play like violins
I been up over mountains
You’re not a book that I read
But I know how you worry

Because of you I can’t relax
I can’t be still, moving too fast
Tell me what can I do
I can’t relax
If I can’t be still
Moving too fast
Am I moving too fast?

But I know how you love me

But I know how you love me


Moving too fast, are we moving too slow?
Moving too fast, are we moving too slow?
Moving too fast, are we moving too slow?
Moving too fast, are we moving too slow?

Songwriters: Bulkin Kelsey / Clayton Knight / Harrison Mills

Posted at at June 10, 2019 on Monday, June 10, 2019 by |   | Filed under:

A Scrawny Diseased Pervert With a Short Time to Live

<Shiloh>  If it was real life we could beat their ass
<Shiloh> and would
<Shiloh> He's a scrawny diseased little pervert with a short time to live
<Shiloh> Come on Stan...the LAST thing he wants to be is a "Man"
<Shiloh> Unless they can cure aids and other stds his days are numbered anyway. If the drugs don't kill him the disease will
<Shiloh> He's so fragile now he can hardly type
<Shiloh> He's crap his pants if hhe met either of us on the street
<Shiloh> he can hardly walk
<Stan> Robert have the fucking balls to call me to peace of slime
<Stan> you are slime
<Stan> fucking pussy
<Stan> recovery my ass you fuck peave of shit
<Stan> come on give me what ever you have
<Stan> I am not like the others and scared of you
<Stan> peace of shit

First of all, if I were a frail diseased dying pussy who was so ill that I couldn’t type or walk ... you’d both be disgusting subhuman pieces of shit for violently attacking someone in that condition.

What’s hilarious is that you seem to think it would take a team effort for both of you to beat down such a person. You sound like a couple of pussies to me.

As far as giving you what I have *giggle* ok, sure, my pleasure!!!! I’d love to meet both of you! How does a couple of stun grenades through your windows and a .45/70 sound?

Ever had your ass kicked by a faggot with aids before?

Do you want to?

Posted at at June 10, 2019 on by |   | Filed under:

A Diamond in the Rough

You've heard the way people talk about me
Do you like the things they say
Or do you find it disconcerting and unkind

It's a joke I've learned to live with
Being different from the crowd
They'd like to polish me up
Give me a trim, water me down, make me be like them
But I'm a diamond in the rough
A diamond in the rough

Taking my time
Deciding when to shine
Diamond in the rough
Diamond in the rough
Diamond in the rough
Diamond in the rough

I had hoped that you would love me
Since I could fall in love with you
Could we find our place in each other somewhere tonight
Oh, I hope so

Or has the talk decayed the beauty
That we once began to find
Would you like to polish me up
Give me a trim, water me down, make me be like them
I'm still a diamond in the rough
A diamond in the rough

Taking my time, deciding when to shine
Diamond in the rough
Diamond in the rough
Diamond in the rough, diamond in the rough

Songwriters: Alicia Bridges / Susan Hutcheson

Posted at at June 09, 2019 on Sunday, June 9, 2019 by |   | Filed under: