Sugar Bombs TNT & Scooby Snacks

Think I’ll wrap this lil’ Office of National Drug Control lambaste we’ve had here up by takin ya’ll Back.

How far back?

Way the fuck back.

I’m talking cartoons on Saturday morning. Wonder Twin powers. Sugar Bomb cereal & make-believe Scooby Snacks.

Back to the early 80’s Gateway Drug dayz.

Sugar is the Gateway Drug. In my case the Gateway to Ritalin. Next thing you knew I got a mailbox on my bumper & a stolen front tire. Traded those heapin bowls of imitation processed Sugar Bomb breakfast food-style substitute in for a for a real nice psychiatrist who prescribes me my Adderall.

So there I was one Saturday with a head full of sugar & animated TNT and suddenly the TV-add wanker squawks off about the evils of fried eggs.

DUDE!! But that’s like…I mean actual breakfast!

*Mike E says Say WHAT!?*

I could go on and on but think I’ll just let the TV-add douche eater squack for himself.

So here it is ~~~ Hang on to your Open Containers there kiddoz ~~~ The first shot fired in the War on Drugs. The cracked egg heard ’round the World! Let’s make some NOIZE people for your BRAIN-ON ->drugz!!!

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WHEW! Gives me a hankerin for a cold can of Mountain Dew.

Know what: I say bring back the Drug War!

Know why?

Cause it was hallucinated oodles more fun than the War On Terror and we were winning.

Wow. If I could convert blog-posts like this into their smokable form I could bag it up & sell ‘em. This is the best fun I’ve ever had writing.

Thanks in no freaking small part to you folks down there on Planet Earth who hang around this crappy joint with me. Who incidentally are, by my good estimate, a handful of the best & most exciting up&coming writers in the Cosmos.

You kids are a genuine spectacle. And so good to me!

I just remembered something: why I ever stayed awake for so long to begin with. Wasn’t because I had nowhere to sleep. Nope — I plain didn’t fuckin Wanna! What if I missed something shazammin?

Dig: I like the Feeling!!

So I’m off with it. groove:On. Do me a favor ya’ll: drive fast Stay Strange & swing yourselfs loose with a chuckle.

ps To the Googler who wanted to know: do they check for shrooms in drug screen…  Nope. Hot damn! They sure don’t.

See ya on Pluto fellow traveller dude!

imagine ways

A friend — my oldest friend on Earth — just asked me if I sleep well ever. A couple weeks ago I stayed a couple nights at Superstar Brown’s crib. Gobbled a few monster pot cookies then slept for 40 or 50 hours straight.

Since then I haven’t slept so great. Last week I was awake from Monday until Saturday night. I have a chair I can sleep in at my buddy KC’s place any time I like. But it’s a small place — one room — and though it’s one Champ of a chair for a sit or a nap or to cold pass out in it’s not so conducive for curl-up rejuvenator sleep.

Lots of nights it’s easier just to stay up.

Besides the night-time is my own. Even if I do sleep the days are tough. It’s hard to talk to people. Maybe folks think because I don’t work at a job, like them, it’s somehow easier for me? Because really we’re Up To near the damn same thing — surviving the fucking day. And PTSD happens to be damned honest work. 30-odd hour motor-overtime days. Always on call. Hunger pangs. No pay.

I’ve been awake two nights. A few hours ago I maybe could’ve slept. But I need to go to the post office between 9AM & noon. By the time 9 rolls around — a half hour ago — it’s full-blown today. So I’m up. I like this time of morning anyway. Quiet…

It is hard to write after 2 sleepless nights. Can’t count on myself the same ways. And the bounce-back period is roughly equal to the time I spent awake. A look at the calandar in my sidebar will give a good idea of my sleepless/recover cycle.

It’s been 2 years since I’ve had a home of my own. I hurt for it.

Oh well. I got a fresh pack of smokes. Cup of coffee compliments of KC. Free wireless floats by from the Bar across the street. And — most crucially — I have the lap-top computer my Mom bought me.

Oh bless the woman’s dear soul! My motherfukin Mom so unassailably rules. Mom I can’t let you read this — and I think you know deep down you don’t want to — but I say!

Now & forever Thank You.

Plus I am one fantastically wishful thinker with a potent sense of make-believe. Best thing about Mike E! I imagine ways…

Hey — I busted some chuckle-rips in my two previous posts — at the expense of the Office of National Drug Control Policy! Know what? Fuck it. My heart feels good today.

Works when I’m proud for it & long odds pay out sweet.