the crackhead within

my son and i moved from an idyllic, isolated hell in mendocino county to west oakland at the beginning of june. the place was a fucking dump, but Sassy McWingnut, the girl in charge of the house, i intuitively felt to be a savvy little broad; little, but tough as nails and a fuck of a lot smarter. The place needed a lot of work, with eight untrained puppies shitting hither and yon, creating a mighty assault upon the schnoz while a bevvy of gangbangers made the scene as Sassy tattooed their homies; but experience has taught me that environments can change, and what's really important is the people you choose to associate with. i knew Sassy was someone i could trust and had enough life experience to be wise at her young age. i made a rare leap of faith in another human being when i handed over my $400 rent after she told me she wanted to fix the house and we would work on it together. we drank a few cobras and sealed the deal.

Our first night, we all went to a show at a nearby punk house. while we were out, our house was robbed by a local hood rat; our cardboard doors were kicked in and my laptop with all of my music for my radio show and two digital cameras were stolen from our rooms. Sassy proved her mettle by shutting down the tattoo operation for several days and setting boundaries on who could and could not be in the house while she was working. security measures were discussed fervently. parental units were enlisted.

the second day we were at wingnut manor, the cops woke us up at 7 AM looking for a refugee pitbull, Sancho, who had been involved in an unpleasant dog fight incident which involved Sassy having her hand ripped open by a passing canine. we kept Sancho down-low while we found another home for him, and Sassy did her best to continue making the rent with her tattooing hand in shreds.

we began cleaning in earnest, and that meant not just the dog shit but the dead weight useless motherfuckers who were sponging as well; Sassy's ex, Clit, a couple of oogles, and the guy i fucked on the second night i moved in who would not leave afterwards despite my open hostility (which only seemed to make him want to stick around more). we meted out the puppies to worthy persons, and only two were stolen. the house began to resemble....a home.

When July rolled in, an absentee roommate (Felix, the boyfriend of the tweeker chick who lived in the master bedroom and had massive empetigo sores all over her face from tweeking on her scabs) was released from jail and returned to wingnut manor. Sassy had appraised me of his character, and i knew Felix was a potential problem: aggressive, thieving, and cracked out. i was assured that he was detoxed and knew he could only stay on if he did not revert, like a reptile, to his baser instincts. by the afternoon of the first day of his return, i could hear him screaming at his girlfriend from their room that he had not hit her and she was a lying piece of shit, among other extremely abusive epithets. having dealt with similar situations in the past, i refused to assist him in any of the scandalous missions he attempted to enlist me and my car in for the renewal of his crack addiction. So began the hate affair of Julie Generic and the Wingnut Manor crackhead known as Felix.

don't get me wrong: i know a lot of good people who happen to do drugs; and while i do not condone it, so long as they can handle their shit, it ain't no thang. however, when the drug abuse entails stealing, lying, raging, and jeopardizing the well being and stability of others, well, that shit just don't fly. Felix kept promising to pay the rent but never did, instead lying to people so he could borrow money from them. picture your run of the mill bottom-feeder con: that would be Felix. by no will of our own we paid his rent, bought him drugs, and lived with his threats and abuse while he stole and ate our food.

finally, july 18th, and excepting a few sundry items in the living room, Felix is out of the house. Sassy gets her master bedroom so she can do her tattoo work in a private space, and we are locked down for the night. the windows in Felixs' old room were jimmied so that they would not lock but i jammed some broom handles in them and they aren't going anywhere. nicki sicki moves in on the first. mischief managed? only time will tell

update 7/25:

felix still lurks and spanges but outside the fence now since i pulled a knife on him a few days ago. he threw a wheelchair at me and i kicked it back at him and he was ASS OUT for good. or else.

joe dread is ass-out as well for being a creepy fucking sexual predator kind of guy. fuck him.

visit with avalon was great. pics later.

i hope the man-whores move out so vaughn can take their room and i can get into house of voodoo free for life, haha!!!

we're staying put in the treehouse till end of june, when i will have at least $2000 to move with. still looking in the bay area, and if we do not find something by july we have diane's place to stay at until we do. leap of faith kinda situation at this point. :) i'm good at that.

i'm so excited about movingout of this place...it's been a great place but SO ISOLATED i can't take anymore. talking to eddie and mia has been helpful.

in other news, i keep dreaming about jak's team friends...first KO, then eric, and others inthere i do not know very well. hanging out with nosmo has tainted me.