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...things aren't going the way I planned, but that's okay.


I'm moving out of my house soon (within the next few weeks). No money, no clue as to where I'm headed...but, all the people I enjoyed living with have moved out, and I hate about 80% of the new crowd, Some crazy shit has gone down in the past two months, and I think it's gonna get worse, so I'm taking my chances. I do know that if I stick around, I'm probably gonna fucking kill somebody, and I don't want to do that if I can help it.


So, I'm looking for work, and a place to live....both endeavors aren't exactly panning out, but this is the way things were back in March, and it (sort of) worked out. I'm hoping for the best and expecting the worst, and thinking a lot about a lot of things...I've learned a lot about myself and people in general this year, the biggest lesson being that the person I should love, trust and count on the most has to be myself...that was a tough one, believe me. But, I'm going to make it...although I'll probably have to keep learning that lesson over and over. Pshhh.


One thing I have learned in the past few months is this- most people are so worried about dying that they never seem to take the time to live....I guess that's something like, "traveling is more fun than arriving?" I suppose...something else to think about.


LENS can find me, he knows where to look...so if anyone needs to contact me, they can go through him, or wait. I just don't have time to be online much lately. (Sorry, LENS...I'd do it for you, if the situation were reversed.)


Well, take care, and I'll do the same...adios.

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If there is a problem and you can't do anything about it, don't worry you can't do anything about it. If there is a problem and you can do something about it, don't worry you can do something about it.


May teh force be with you.

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If all else fails... rack some paint, hop a freight, go on tour and make a name for yourself. There's nothing to lose when you have nothing to lose.

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Since I have a couple minutes, I'll fill in some blanks. I'm supposed to go to SF and get wasted with a bunch of friends, but...they're already wasted, so the plan is taking a really long time to come together. Either way, I'm ready to do whatever/whoever comes my way. No homo? Does that still apply? Not that I care...


Today was the day that the house was supposed to get the eviction notice. I, for one, am in some strange way sort of happy to see it happen...considering that the guy who claimed to be "in charge" turned out to not be the friend that I thought he was.


In a nutshell, the trouble started around the time he decided to beat his girlfriend up in the house, and went to jail. As a result, the rent didn't get paid on time, and the landlady showed up with a three day notice. We broke into his room, paid her, so that got handled...somehow, he got out, with three years of probation and the stipulation that he would attend anger-management meetings for the next year.


So, you would think that he would keep his nose clean, right? Well, so did I...instaed, he moves a bunch of dirtbag street kids from Berkeley, who take one look at the place and think, "Hey, it's a party house...let's ROCK!!!!!"


I was NOT okay with this at all. I explained to him that I needed to get a job so I could, you know, pay rent and bills and stuff...and having a bunch of deadbeats around that acted like they owned the place was incompatible with me taking care of that, so if he could get rid of them and chillthings out, it would facilitate my ends- to wit, being able to get shit handled (at this point, I was planning to leave, but wasn't ready to tell him that just yet).


His response to that was....deafening silence. Basically, if it didn't involve him being able to do whatever he wanted to do, he wasn't hearing it, and this included the rent-paying members of the household speaking up on their behalf and telling him that he was fucking up.


What finally motivated me to leave/go on rent strike was there was this one loser friend of his who thought that it would be a good idea to burn off all the dry weeds in the backyard...by himself, when he was wasted, in the middle of fire season, without a hose in the backyard, next to a wood-framed house. (I'm not making this up.)


This happened not once, not twice, but THREE times. The third time, I ran up on him and started screaming in his face that he needed to put the fucking fire out RIGHT NOW and get the fuck out of my house unless he wanted me to bet the living shit out of himl...you would think that would have some effect on him, but noooo... he wanted to argue the issue with me, and tell me that he lived there (he didn't), and what was my problem, anyway?


With every bit of self-restraint that I had, I told him that if he didn't do exactly what I said in the next thirty seconds, one of us was going to the hospital, and the other one was headed to jail.


He finally put out the fire, and I went to bed. The next day, I went and told my roommate that enough was enough- I wasn't going to pay rent until everyone left...and he said, "You can't do that."


"Wanna bet?" I said. "These people are fucking you in the ass, dude. I don't want to get fucked in the ass, or have all my shit burned up, by a bunch of freeloaders. I didn't invite them here...therefore, I'm not going to be the one to get rid of them. You created this mess, and until you handle it, don't expect to see a dime out of me. If you get evicted because of this, well, too fucking bad...oh, and I'm giving notice. I have no idea when I'm leaving, or how...but, I plan to be gone by the end of the year. I figure I have that much time even if we DO get evicted. This is your bad, I told you that shit needed to change and you just shined me on."


I guess I don't need to add that things have been rather strained since then. I did manage to get a job, and somehow I managed to come into a bit of money in the meantime...which I plan to use to start another house in the area, with some folks that I know and trust.


Some of you may think that I am being irresponsible, and not handling my end of the bargain...to which I say, I am at this point the longest-standing tenant...not to mention the oldest and (apparently) the most responsible of this motley crew, despite being a little crazy and irrational due to the situation right now.


There's a lot more to the story, but I'm about to leave (finally)...I'll add to this as I remember things. I kind of need to keep track of all this, so I'll just do that here so you can all share in the experience.


That's it for now. Till next time...

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that is fucked up. I think you handled it well, under those shitty circumstances. Good luck.

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More shenanigans...


-Someone shit ON the toilet. Not IN it, or NEXT to it, or on the floor in the bathroom, or in a completely separate room...it's like, "Dude, you were SO CLOSE...what the fuck?"


-The guy that showed up at my house with lice and was cracking jokes about it....who then proceeded to shave his head in the previously mentioned bathroom despite being told to get the FUCK out of the house. This resulted in me cutting off my dreads...which is a good thing in one way, but...the happy ending to this was him getting a skateboard broken over his head. Clean in half, no less. Serves him right.


-The $1000 power bill. Yes, that's in American dollars. Oh, plus a $200 water bill. We haven't had a phone or DSL in months. Which is probably a blessing in disguise.


-There's a Tent City in the backyard. Okay, three tents...which, to me, is three too many...especially in December.


-A LOT of fucking trash in the front yard. Even the crackheads won't touch it.


-The biggest insult of all is probably the juggalos living in the basement. I had nothing to do with them moving in, BTW...well, come to think of it, I didn't have ANYTHING to do with ANY of the recent people moving in.


-Five people connected to the house have been arrested in the past two months. One guy is locked down for a year, and one guy got wrapped five times....most recently for selling dope to a cop in SF.


-The girl I was dating this summer is long gone. Can't blame her...on second thought, sure I can. I remember telling her that I lived in the Most Dangerous Punk House In The East Bay when we first started dating, and that sometimes it got to me, and not to take it personally if I got moody at times- I'd be sure to tell her if it had anything to do with her. To make a long story short, she got funky, and after a month of that I told her that I had bigger fish to fry than to deal with her dealing on me...and if she wasn't going to help me, then I couldn't hang out with her till my shit got straightened out. That was two months ago...and she's been telling people that I hate her and don't have time for her, etc....for the record, no on the first count, yes on the second one. Life's too short, and I had to make some tough decisions...I miss her, but I think it's better to concentrate on something that I can change (my living situation) as opposed to something I couldn't (her). I don't know...shit happens.


-My racing bike got destroyed (the derailleur hanger got stripped/snapped brake lever). Naturally, no one knows how. Somehow, that doesn't surprise me.


-The kitchen, which was never the cleanest place to begin with, now has all the charm of a festering sore. I can't cook there because I'm the only vegetarian in the house, and all the pans are coated with...God knows what.


That's enough for now. My friend just put "Sex Bomb" by Flipper on, and I really, really want to rock out and forget for a minute here....also, we came up on this amazing deal recently- this Sparks ripoff called 247....24 ounce cans, 7 percent alcohol...for FIFTY MOTHERFUCKING CENTS A CAN. The trick is to get a little fucked up on something else first, then get into the 247. By itself, it's not so great...but, combined with other things, you will do the most retarded shit (climbing on the rooftops of schools, tackling bushes, screaming "HEY, HEY, WE'RE THE MONKEES!!!!" while walking down Telegraph at three AM...and calling your friends at seven AM and telling them they're a bunch of fucking sellout pussies because they passed out and you want to keep raging).


The East Bay flame may be dim, but it still burns within me. Shit, at this point, it's about all that I've got going for me.


EBP, PM me a number. I'll get back to you.


Cash, a blapper sounds....overkill, but kinda fun. Better not to give me any ideas.


I'll be in touch.

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