BROKE MY FUCKING CAMERA!!!

I have no new pictures 2 post this time. Oh, don't worry...I fully intend 2 fake it. I am still in CLASSIFIED for the moment. We are supposed 2 be moving back 2 CLASSIFIED tomorrow afternoon, though. I'll just be glad 2 be going anywhere, 2 tell U the truth. 10 days at the same hotel? Can't say for sure...but, U might be doing 2 much.

Of course U realize that this whole broken camera fiasco is gonna cause me 2 have 2 go back 2 SaCRAPmento if for no other reason than 2 get my Sony out of pawn.

OH, HOLY FUCK! How could I forget this shit? I'm sitting down at the bar last night while CLASSIFIED did her thing when who calls on the phone? U got it...CLASSIFIED...That's her on the left (bear in mind NO ONE has been taking this bitch's calls for like 3 maybe 4 weeks now)! So I answer the motherfucker and she goes right into how fucking hurt she is and why doesn't anyone call her back and I'm like...c'mon CLASSIFIED U don't want 2 go there...and she's like yes I do...so I'm like why the fuck don't U quit hating on CLASSIFIED all the fucking time and then maybe someone would call U back! that's when she says...What do U mean?

I'm like...c'mon now CLASSIFIED I don't want 2 do this. I don't want 2 play these games...she tells me, whatever...and hangs up on me!

I couldn't fucking believe it. I called her back and I'm like what the fuck? U actually have the nerve 2 hang up on me? Just because U asked me a question and didn't like the answer I gave U? U hang up on me after all I've done for U? Unfuckingbelievable! Then she said, whatever...and hung up on me again!

I tell U, I was fucking flabbergasted. I honestly couldn't believe that shit. Fucking bitch. I'm over it now, can't U tell?..




(ynette and Stephanie had been best friends ever since their first day of 8th grade. It was Mrs. Colby’s English class and they had spent the better part of the next two years skipping that and most every other class in which they were enrolled until, at the ripe old age of 16, both girls dropped out of school and out of sight. It was weird the way they just vanished one day. They left for “school” and never made it. But they had managed 2 stay together over the next 10 years, and it was this older, wiser Lynette who looked down at the unconscious body of her best friend and wondered 2 herself, just how the hell did we end up here? It must’ve started whenever it was that Lynette started going out with Barton. Barton Gamble III – he says it like it means he is somebody – somebody other than a truck stop line-cook nobody making $8.50 an hour. Lynette began dating Barton in May and they became exclusive sometime in mid-June. By the end of July he had her completely brainwashed and by early August she was helping him kidnap young girls for his “sexual experiments”, which were in fact no more than sadistic torture rituals. U see, it turned out that Barton Gamble III was indeed no ordinary truck stop line-cook nobody making $8.50 an hour. No…in fact he was a truck stop line-cook nobody making $8.50 an hour who moonlit as the psychopathic killer of six young women – a fact that Lynette failed 2 mention when she invited her old friend Stephanie 2 visit (at Barton’s rather insistent urging – he had found an old picture of her among Lynette’s things) them at the ranch during the coming summer. But that still didn’t explain how they had gotten here, and that seemed oddly important 2 Lynette at this particular moment. Because where here was was with her monster of a husband about 2 rape and murder her best friend. Where here was was amongst seven fresh graves, the most recent of which she had only just finished digging. Where here was was with Lynette picking up the shovel and swinging it as hard as she could at the back of Barton’s head, connecting with a dull thwack, which sounded very similar 2 the sound a cantaloupe makes as it hits linoleum after being dropped by some geriatric super shopper. Barton fell dead upon Stephanie’s nude, stretched-out unconscious body, and for the first time in four years Lynette had no fucking idea what 2 do next.)

Perhaps I was being 2 harsh last post. I mean...I care whether or not the broad ends up dead. I just don't need another expense unless it's at somebody else's expense, y'know?



(I posted this pic becuz U took it when we were at the water. I just wanted 2 let U know I had a really wonderful time with U there, and I am glad it was U I spent that time with...not that stupid bitch I wanted 2 go with...I call her stupid, but in fact it was I who was stupid. It was that same stupidity that almost caused me 2 lose U. What a travesty that would have been. Thank U again for being my friend when i needed U the most. I love U.)
Okay...So I finally made it 2 the ocean. (Sprinkled throughout this posting will be pictures of motherfuckers who really should check the mirror before heading out 2 the beach!) I didn't have as much fun as I was hoping...however I did have a fucking BLAST...so I don't know...

CLASSIFIED is trying 2 get me 2 set up one of her friends as an escort on a website a few of my other friends occasionally post ads on. She wants me 2 do this for free. No...actually, she said she wanted 2 keep her for a few days, then send her my way for a small finder's fee. U gotta be shitting me right? She obviously does not understand the ENORMOUS workload involved with setting one of these enterprises up! Either that or my friend has started smoking that crack, and I'm afraid hubbahead is just not a good look for her. Why the fuck would I want 2 do all that fucking work, and then pay out? U must be out your damn mind. However, because I am a business man and that's what this is...business...I will offer my services for the small fee of $250 for the setup, and $40 a day 2 keep it up. But they gots 2 work with me here. I need pics of this bitch...I need 2 know her limits...I need 2 know she ain't gonna end up dead somewhere...no...I don't really need 2 know that. I don't even know this girl, really. What the fuck do I care?


(I know I usually write this portion 2 U, regardless of whether or not U ever read it...hell, whether or not U read it is really inconsequential...what matters (2 me anyways) is that i write it! Becuz in doing so I manage 2 forever rid myself of the U didn't tell me that conversation. All I have 2 do is write it here and I'm good 2 go! It's not like anyone's ever going 2 tell U! That would require that someone read this bullshit, and U won't even do that and U are my biggest fan!!! It's all rather comical, if U think about it. I have to go now. I'm thinking I might need 2 see someone about this...this and the herpes. Not my herpes...no no...just...herpes in general...U know, cuz I have an unquenchable thirst for knowledge...especially about STDs I don't have...Really...I swear...MO-O-O-OM!)

The overall quality of drugs has decreased...

Ok, look…all I wanted was 2 go 2 CLASSIFIED. I just wanted 2 play in the water…that’s all…just paddle around a bit…is that so much 2 ask? Unfortunately…this is my crew. I may as well be on the SS Minnow. Try and guess which one is Gilligan. Gilligan little buddy! Looks like I’m gonna have 2 make a computer out of coconuts just 2 be able 2 keep blogging! Just as soon as I finish with Mrs. Howell...

Now watch…they’ll wake up and see this on the internet and start whining and moaning and bitching saying shit like, “U took that picture while we were sleeping!” or “U violated my civil rights!” Well, boo-hoo let me get U a hankie U freakin cry-babys! Don’t U realize I’m gonna make U all famous? Better start thinking about who you'd like 2 see play U in the movie.


It's not all thier fault. I'm also waiting on CLASSIFIED 2 bring me by 4 hits of CLASSIFIED. Me and CLASSIFIED took a couple hits a few days ago and tripped for like 5 hours. It was cool...had a mellow come down...but now we want 2 take it at the ocean but fucking fuckhead CLASSIFIED won't fucking bring it over for some goddamned reason. I think it's cuz he wants 2 fuck CLASSIFIED and she don't want 2 let him. Well, fuck him then if he wants 2 be that way. We can just go 2 CLASSIFIED without CLASSIFIED. Or fuck...it is CLASSIFIED after all...there's a pretty good chance we could get some there from a hippy or something.


(So…there I was…Trippin…cold sweat and all that shit, man! Can I tell U I was fucking scared, man? Can I tell U that? Do U even care? Are U even listening 2 me? So…the I was…Trippin…and Diego says 2 me…he says, “Where’s the money?” So I said, “I don’t have the fucking money! What money? U said U had the fucking money!” It was about this time that niggas started shuffling around and shit. Guns were starting 2 get pulled out and looked at…mothafuckas tryin 2 show off their dicks, is all, when Diego looked at me and snarled, “It is a good thing for U that my sister is in love with U, amigo! Tonight…we drink! Tomorrow we will be having a wedding…a small affair, but a wedding nonetheless. But tonight,” he clapped his hand down on my shoulder. “Tonight…we drink!” Four shots of tequila later I excused myself 2 use the bathroom, climbed out the window and I haven’t been 2 Juarez since.)



Still trying 2 get 2 that water...


Okay, so there it is there. Apparently...I'm drinking again. I wasn't aware I had stopped. I know...I know...I said I'd stop...that I'd work my program...choose a sponser...actually work the steps and not just try 2 get laid from desperate chicks who think they are all out of options. Fuck it, I'm only human. Is it my fault that a quart of Old Crow costs less than a hooker? I mean, can U believe the prices these bitches are tryin 2 charge a motherfucker these days? It's unbelievable! I mean, who the hell pays $250 for an hour? I don't give a fuck how good she sucks dick, unless she spits twenties out her ass and moonlights as a fucking ATM machine I ain't going there. It's not that it's 2 expensive, really. Cuz I don't want no 80 dollar ho neither. Them bitches is just nasty. And not nasty like Vanity neither...more like truck stop nasty. U know how everything U get at the truck stop is greezy? Yeah well the pussy is 2...I've heard. I mean, I wouldn't know. How could I possibly know something like that? Fuck, I could use another drink. Who's ready for another?

So...supposedly CLASSIFIED is on her way up here and she is bringing CLASSIFIED. We are suppose 2 be picked up, driven 2 CLASSIFIED and set loose upon the unsuspecting denizens of that quaint hamlet. Oh...and we are also supposed 2 take some CLASSIFIED. I'll let U know how shit turns out!


(ok...so there I am last night jacking off after U passed out and I'm thinking 2 myself, "Good Christ, man! U have got 2 be sick or something. U just had great sex in the jacuzzi, and here U are wanting it again...look at you....U disgust me with your carnal cravings. Just let the girl alone. Do what's right, for God's sake! Just once would U do what's right!". Unfortunately, I had chosen just that moment 2 stop listening 2 myself and I began daydreaming about Bob Barker, long time host of The Price is Right. This (thank God!) caused me 2 lose my erection and the world was saved for future generations 2 fuck up as they see fit. U may wonder why I bring all of this up. It's simple really. U see...I happened 2 look over and notice U were asleep...)