Category Archives: substance abuse

Logistically Speaking…I have nowhere to go but down

Posted on by Standard Respond

Artisanally Sharpened Pencil

Dear Mother Theresa and Father Floyd, Auburn Street, Concord NH…that is if you haven’t moved and forgot to let me know:
We have started training and I enjoy it even though the classes are pretty dull and full of common sense stuff; how to sharpen pencils, use a calculator, count without using your fingers…

Unfortunately Tuesday came and it was time to find out our FEMA job and what our new permanent team would be, as well as finding out who our new roommate would be. I was so nervous because some people here are too much to handle and I didn’t want to be stuck with them for 10 months of togetherness. We had a final goodbye dinner… It was a bummer. We all wrote good-bye poems and cards…

We finally gathered for our team.  And,  last night and I got an envelope that had a blue piece of string which meant I am in the Blue unit.  It’s a unit for ‘special’ persons with ‘special’ attention needed.

I then matched my puzzle pieces to my new teammates. We are BLUE 2: Logistics. So my job will be logistics Winchester VA., pushing paperwork for FEMA. The f-ing TEAM I hooked up with sucks…Everyone wants to drink.
I’ve been having a blast. I’m tired, though and took a shit load of meds, but I still made it for open mic night. See I knew I wasn’t an alcoholic.
Love Always, Though I’m not sure what love is-
Ambien/the Annie C Grace

if the church doesn't have to pay taxes why should I? -government employee

if the church doesn’t have to pay taxes why should I?
-government employee

Mishandled and Misrepresented

Posted on by Standard Respond
if it's white collar, I've committed the crime

Some say I look quite a bit like Martha Stewart.

if it’s white collar, I’ve committed the crime 

 

Broads Centre Private Property warning sign

Broads Centre Private Property warning sign (Photo credit: ell brown)

Public nudity? Public intoxication? Defrauding the government? Sex on private property? Use and abuse of illegal substances? Graduated bottom of my class and now working under an alias with alien Barbie‘s for a cause?
The list is endless.
If conformity, habitual lying, crying wolf and taking on other’s personalities put me in segregation from Un-Natural people…prison or day camp for addicts…my parent’s would give a donation to a wing in my honor.
Perhaps, a bronze plague above the tub I used to find myself in whilst in college. Naked, high and on Ambien…
It is hard to know where the next unadulterated violation will occur. Perhaps, bending friendships into misshaped ideas of my rights and their wrongs.
Or, the mishandling and misrepresentation of Beckett Couvillion the third, dog wonder, while he takes a shit on someone’s lawn.
My future is so bright…I have to wear shades and assume the bend over position.
Can’t blame a dyed blonde for trying to be something she’s not…after all it’s the All American White Girl’s Wet Dream.

Pray through the Madness

Posted on by Standard Respond
I pray a lot about these bad feelings inside but I can't pray my way through or around it

I pray a lot about these bad feelings inside but I can’t pray my way through or around it

“…obstacles do not exist to be surrendered to, but only to be broken.” by Adolf Hitler, the artist.

How hard is life really?
On a timidly tainted with humidity summer’s July day in New Hampshire…One can enter into an entirely different realm then had been their life’s destination not seconds before.
Working with canines it is nothing short than learning from the masters of loving life. I had acquired such an emotionally lucrative job on a particularly tossed with dampness July’s day.
I had been spotted and fawned over way before the entrance of my lanky blonde frame and I suppose some would call it, creeped, by a vixen tossed about by varied biased emotions on homosexuality.
Her frame slouched by an unusual attachment to her mother, outward ego covered in confusion and then painted over with gray on gray apparel. Typically, not what I am in the mood for.
Preferably I would like someone to dress up the rest of the ‘possible’ relationship not drag it down into a cellulite jungle of ‘ice cream puddles and chocolate chip wet dreams.’
The hair upon this saddened by life creature not quite dyed and not quite ready for success.
The line sprouting from my soon to be supervisor and sexually frustrated admirer?
Ambien/Annie:
“My love life is like this… beautiful ladies typically walk on by me and I never know what to say.”
WTF? Where on earth did this sexually confused and obviously misread dysfunctional come from?
I sat and not listened and learned quickly I would receive no training. My other training in the wants of a twenty-something, however, were akin to Harold and Maude.
She did her best patting the trunk of her dead Grandpa Ed’s Malibu to entice me into taking a seat with stories on homophobia,  sexual harassments,  physical harassments, the Adopt-A-Mother from Highway to Hell and the birth mother with a list of boyfriends longer than a NYC phonebook.
The poor me I’m rich. The wah, wah, wah, Daddy takes care of the bounced checks. And, the I haven’t had a good lay since I’ve been out of the closet…guess what, I’m not even out of the closet.  Were the indexes pages to a bad romance paperback book.
The drinking, the drugging, the unprotected sex with any swinging dick and Harry.
Had me choked up on resentment and lighted my way to writing a novel on deprivation and dumbing down.

Plot Line: This chic was ready, willing and able to take out anything politically correct and pull it all the way down into sex on the job with subordinates.
I wanted to be there to watch the carnage.
So, when the ‘not’ training subsided and the story began to unfold for the summer…the only thought that came to mind when she asked me to have sex with her because everyone else turned her down?

What was once your pain will be your home

What was once your pain will be your home

“you know me and Jesus we’re of the same heart The only thing that keeps us distant is that I keep fuckin up!”

So, I say, let the hunger games begin!

Americorps VISTA at Work?

Posted on by Standard 2

Let's hope she's paying taxes this time around...

Let’s hope she’s paying taxes this time around…

AmeriCorps: hiring tax evaders today...no background check required.

AmeriCorps: hiring tax evaders today…no background check required.

Sil Luv's His New VISTA shirt

Sil Luv’s His New VISTA shirt (Photo credit: MizzD)

Riding ‘round the mean streets of Franklin: A city paved with good intentions and reared on a history of poverty.
I had no cause to get up early. Generally, I smoke, a drink too much coffee and I decide what problem I can afford to fix for the day. My spouse sequestered by demons of the mental health genre, is my anchor and therefore, never out of mind and typically on the back of Aunt Gladys moped with an attitude.
If you see me and she isn’t there…most likely the back of the t-shirt hanging from my boney frame will say, ‘If you can read this…the bitch fell off!’

This morning I toured solo!
Today, sunny, dry and seventy would have made me smile from the inside out. However, that is if an S.O.S. hadn’t been sent out from the even more impoverished side of town.
Quickly and to the point I will state my facts for I am angry and should not linger.
My mechanic, father of seven, two children disabled, and wife disabled and he himself, with chronic migraines, had called to see if I needed any work done on Gladys.
Oddly enough, Auntie seemed in good repair and I felt like messin’ her up a little today with my backwoods and backwards knowledge of mechanics.
“Nope…Why, what’s up?”
“AAgh…”
“Come on Ben spit it out. Do you need money?”
Hit the nail on the head. Proud people of hardy stock from my hometown would much rather work for the wage than ask for it in advance.
Long story short, we took a drive. I handed him a hundred dollars and bought us both a coffee. I made him vow to change the oil in my truck the next time I had gone 100,000 miles.
What gets me is this:
Wife, with mental impairments struggling to make her demons meet with the real world not asking for more than her share.
Next door neighbor, ten year armed services Veteran, owns his own business, pays it forward, can barely make ends meet.
Ben, mechanic/friend, giving it all to find some small percentage of the American Dream; born into poverty, paying taxes, promoting small business enterprise, living below poverty level.
Me, poor slob who just wants to understand our government a little better and not find fault with its apparently faulty system.

The Ambien/Annie Couvillion/Gracie Williams of the world:

Known to take nude photographs of employees while on the clock and on the property of said, employer.
Known to work and proud to brag about under the table nude modeling gigs for NHTI professor and pedophile instructors on Craigslist. NH; both jobs performed within the last six months.
Admittedly addicted to Oxycontin and other substances and worried about sporadic drug tests that AmeriCorps/VISTA/FEMA requires.
Parents are of upper middle class thinking. Both teachers for state universities: Plymouth State University and the University of New Hampshire.
One parent teaches economics.
When I found myself working under the table I had been employed by Irene Bridges. She drank Diet Pepsi with Seven n Seven. Drunk or sober she never thought my work worthy of payment. Course, I had been 10 years old at the time.
Working under the table, never mind the not ‘above reproach’ profession is illegal and a form of tax evasion.
Yet, here we are watching the Ambien’s of the world volunteer on our tax dollar with taxes we paid and she did not.
So, pardon me and I may need to ask her father, the economics’ professor, but the equation is much too complex for my blonde mind.
Not only was she pardoned to avoid paying taxes less six months ago. She now is considered a government employee and is still making money off the poor. All the while professing to be ‘selfishly working on the behalf of the poor.’
Well, Ben, I guess life sucks for you. As it sucks for the people I see with backpacks as their only means of housing and bicycles as their only means of transportation.
It isn’t the country that frightens me…it’s the government and/or its lack of intelligent governing bodies.

One of a Kind, Lesbian

Posted on by Standard Respond

Addressing homophobia? On TV, which I do not watch. In the movies and on the streets; there are thousands, maybe more, wanting to live with who they are minus the judgment.
I am homophobic, yet, I believe myself to be a lesbian. I voted for republicans without a thought to the injustice, for that is what my parent’s directed me to do.
I denounced and denied any involvement with women out fear of freedom from self.
I ridiculed everyone strong woman I know in hopes that the grass would remain green for me in the years to come.
How is it that a homophobic lesbian can take down her kind in one false gush of dyed to be blonde?
Statistically, as a whole, homosexuals everywhere are crying out of the closets. Addicting themselves to prescription drugs to alleviate the pain of the moral majority.
In decades past, women struggled to find their niche in life. Giving up family, friends and domestic policy to step out of the heterosexual box. A road was paved by the Steinems, the Billie Jean King‘s, the Etheridges and the unknowns everywhere.
Along comes Polly-Anne, Ambien Grace, Gracie Willams and the mountain that has been

Taken for granted...the sweat of our mothers.

Taken for granted…the sweat of our mothers.

Charter Member of the Moral Majority

Charter Member of the Moral Majority (Photo credit: starlen)

lowered to closet level becomes a distant cousin.
The only selfless act I have given unto homosexuals anywhere is that act of abhorring their kind. For in pretending to be someone I am not, I cannot be associated to the greatness that stands before us.
Homosexuals everywhere should jump for joy for they have no ‘guilt by Ambien Grace association.’