I’m a fan of most trivia, I like the challenge of trying to answer a vast array of questions. Lucky for me (or un-lucky if you will) I found this little app called Trivia Crack. They named this app the absolute correct thing, its truly like crack. Not that I’ve had crack before, but I smoke, so I know addiction quite well. After two weeks of playing, yes only two weeks, I have begun to suffer from massive disappointment. Why? I have many reasons, but a few stand out as being my biggest annoyances. First of all, I’m sick of all of the fucking sports questions. Well, okay, not all the sports questions, but there are so fucking many football questions that they make my eyes bleed. After a while it just feels that I’m nothing but a football trivia game. Also, all the pop culture reality television questions that are very common. But that’s only my opinion, but then again I don’t kill many brain cells watching television, mostly the news, which is reality enough for me. The in app pop ups got old the first day, I have little patience for an app that is one giant advertisement factory. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy the game overall, I play with a few friends and 9 family members, so it really fills “down time” or times of “boredom”.
However, I was pleased to find this game has a section for players to submit questions, y’all have read my blog before, I know allot of useless shit I like to share with people who will read it. So, I figured it would be nice to add some color or flavor to the question pool. As of this morning, I have submitted exactly 200 questions, one of which has been approved. I have come to the early conclusion that this is not a thinkers game, its more like the old board game Trivial Pursuit, Juniors Edition. My questions were all entered into the Geography, History, and Science categories. I have answered well over 4,000 questions correctly in this game and have found there are very few, if any questions about classic rock history, individual state history, or real life science type questions. These are things I have quite a bit of trivia knowledge about, so I decided to try, an attempt at reality in real life, to bring something, that in my opinion, that this game lacks.
Don’t get me wrong, its full of thousands of fantastic questions, and its a fun game to play, but come on, there needs to be a bit more challenging questions than what is currently offered. I’ve been doing some research, reading what others are saying about this game. I’m not alone it appears, which really wasn’t as much as a surprise as one would think. I learned I’m not the only one frustrated with the process of getting questions approved to get added to the question pool. Seems people are looking for simple questions, the no brainers, because to them it is about coins and levels. Sounds allot like I’m in the midst of allot of teenagers with very little in the life experience department. Seems people don’t want to learn anything, they just want to answer questions they already know. Where is the challenge in that? If you answered there is no challenge then you answered correctly. So, why do I care? Good question.
I don’t think that can be answered. I have found, over the years I’ve spent on the internet, being a part of forums, discussions, and so forth, that people don’t want to be challenged. People want easy. I get it. I don’t like it, but I get it. I don’t participate much anymore in social media, seems it is just a tool nowadays to promote my blog. Which, as it stands, works very little in my advantage because I’m not “liking” other people’s status updates or retweeting their tweet. In the end I get what I give, very little. I’m at the point where I’m done wasting my time and the time of others. I’m just going to write, post, and update my blogs, and if people come to read they do, if not, well then not. Back to the game, I guess my point is that I would like to see it improve, I’m proactive in the way that, yes I’m going to bitch about it, but I also have solutions. But maybe I see things as broken, needing improvement, when in reality, its functioning as designed, flaws and all.
Oh, yea, I almost forgot, my Trivia Crack account isn’t linked to either of my Facebook accounts, which is why you don’t see it as one of my apps or don’t see my “accomplishments” either. Nor at any time in the future will it be linked to anything. Your welcome. Those of y’all who know who I am can find me, if you want to find me that is. It’s sad, but after two weeks I’m burnt out of this game, I get no real pleasure from it any more. It boasts a pool of over one million active questions but I keep seeing so many repeats. Maybe, since it has only been going since December 2014 in the United States, it will improve over time, maybe others will get bored with it all and start reviewing questions for approval. I have rated over 4,000 questions and have yet to see one of them in the pool. Makes me wonder how many questions are actually waiting in the question factory.
If you play, I can only ask you to try to make it a better place for everyone. Remember that all age groups are playing and some of us are pretty burned out on the Disney and sports questions. Maybe I will start my own trivia game. I will start it with one question, who ever answers the question correctly gets to ask the next question, and so on and so forth. It will probably bomb big time, it will require reading, not skimming, actual reading. Do we even read anything anymore? Are we a society of skimmers, looking for keywords, trying to find that crumb of something that interests us? Anyway, we’ll see how this all plays out. As mentioned, I will not be making separate entries (announcements) on the regular social media channels anymore. If y’all find the posts y’all do, if not then we’ve both missed out. Who knows, maybe this will work out for the best for all of us because I know y’all get tired of seeing my useless shit anyway.
I guess that’s it. I will continue to play my game, I will continue posting here about things that stand out in my life, and maybe one day something we all do will mean something to someone else besides ourselves. The bigger the internet gets the harder it is to stand out. I kinda like the view from under the radar. A note on future posts, a little housekeeping if you will, I have quite a few email submissions in the que, on a variety of subjects and topics, some of which I will discuss in further depth later on. It gets harder and harder, day by day, but I think its time to take this blog back to it’s roots, because it began as a diary style blog, full of the many things kicking around in my brain. I thinks its time again. As always, use the tag cloud on the right of the page or the search block at the top of the page to search for things I may have posted here. Y’all do a good job of using both, as well as emailing me questions and ideas. Y’all keep up the good work, soon enough some of y’all will begin seeing your stories here. I know, let the confetti cannons thunder on in a downpour of tiny slivers of paper.
In a curious way I ask, what games do y’all play on your phone, tablet, or computer? Do y’all have any you really enjoy playing? Want to play me in Trivia Crack? Reply here or in email with your “handle” or player “name” and I will look you up. Until we meet again, just know that I want y’all to enjoy your stay, but if you hate your stay here it was based on a choice you made. I can’t be held responsible for your personal choices now can I?
So, I was working at the club last night, bored to the point I was actually on the verge of falling asleep standing up. Then, a ringtone begins to play on my phone, one I have not heard in many years, “The Bitch Is Back”, when I look at the screen to make sure it is who I think it is, I see ” The Cunt” is calling. Before I get into this wonderful conversation, let me remind y’all that in just over 15 years, I have spoken with my ex on the phone 4 times, and in person twice. Needless to say, we are on less than talking terms, much less being cordial terms with one another. But she called, which had to be hard for her personally, and now I am wasting my time “writing” about her cuntness while sitting here in my shop with better things to do, like scraping the duck shit off of my 50 year old iron bench so I can refinish it later. Oh Yea, the phone call.
When I first saw who it was I did smile a bit, but only because I was hoping she was calling me to say “I’m sorry” and “you are right”. It makes me smile because in 12 years of marriage and all the years since, I have never heard those words. Oh well, I better see what she wants so I don’t have to listen to a lengthy voicemail. It started off polite enough, almost like she was reading a prewritten script or something. I know I am the last person on Earth she wanted to be calling. Like normal, she talked and I listened, this is just the way it works, she wants something I have, and I just listen. This time it was different, this time there were a couple of ” pleases” there and a bit of gratitude in her voice. I had to pull my phone back twice to make sure who was calling me. Very strange indeed. So, what does she want? Well, that’s complicated. So you understand better, I need to take y’all back to when we were getting divorced because it would appear she made a few boo boos filing her taxes and now she has an appointment to discuss the discrepancies.
Anyway, part of the terms of our divorce were for her to receive proceeds from the sale, rental, or lease from the house we once called home. It always struck a nerve with me because this house was only in my name. But whatever, community property is what it is. The market to sell was very soft, so, with the aid of a realitor, which I paid for 100%, we put it on the market to rent. Now, I remind y’all, by this time I was out if the Air Force, living in Houston, and this house is in Alamogordo New Mexico. Within a month of our divorce a military couple were signing a rental agreement. Since I was still paying for the house, each month there was about $500 remaining, which I was oblidged to split with my now ex-wife. I made sure I wrote a paper check each month for ease of keeping the records straight. After around 3 years of the same couple renting the house, I received an offer to purchase it, cash. Seems the housing market was on the rise there. I purchased the house for $57,000.00, put another $10k into it, and at the point when they made the offer, I still owed the bank roughly $18k. What was their offer for this 2900 sq ft, 4 bedroom, 2 1/2 bath house? $98,699.00 plus closing costs with immediate move in. Without thinking, I agreed to the sale. But the cunt would not see half because I protested the decree and proved she never spent a penny on the house, the judge awarded her $20,021.09 payable over the next 16 months.
OK, so here is the problem, never did she report any of the proceeds from the rent or the final sale as income or a source of revenue when she filed her taxes. Oops. So, as it stands, she is claiming ignorance, and she has been given 30 days to prove she shouldn’t owe over $56k in taxes, penalties, and fines. She has been trying, unsuccessfully obviously, to do this on her own, leaving only a few more days before the 5th of August rolls around. Like I told her, I am not giving up any information without written proof she needs my information. When I asked what I get in return for graciously taking time out of my life to copy all the shit she needs, she offered to take me out for steak. I told her, in that case, when she shows up at my front gate to pick up her package, because I refused to do everything for her, for her to leave enough time for dinner. After a long, very dramatic pause, with a sigh, she agreed to meet with me on Saturday.
So, why am I helping the cunt? Its easy, I don’t want her mess getting on me, because trust me, she would find a way to suck me down that rabbit hole. Meanwhile, in exchange for the documents she has requested, my lawyer has drawn up documents that she must sign which release me from any obligations, financially or otherwise, and it includes a detailed inventory of all the documents so if push comes to shove, I can show I provided up, above, and beyond everything I could. No sign, no copies. Luckily for me, I keep the records of my past life neatly tucked away in a small three drawer filing cabinet. Lucky for her I packratted all of this away or she would be fucked and she probably doesn’t like prison orange anyway.
You want funny? As she reads along with you here today she is realizing that I truly don’t give a fuck about her situation and that this life lesson is one that will soon be forgotten by her because that is just the way she is. Yes, she reads my blog, only because my daughter sees to it on occasion for some reason. In the end, my dearest cunt, I can only thank you because you gave me something to do with my time and gave me something special to write about today. See you Saturday. Remember not to be sad in your time of need because, like always I am prepared, something you never took the time to learn.
But before I get into my arrest let me begin by telling you what led up to it. When I was pulling up in my driveway two months ago I got out of my car to get the mail out of the mail box when I noticed across the street the young couple living there having an argument in front of their house. There was some pushing and shoving, there was yelling and cussing, and just like that it was over. I watched the front of their house as I drove up my drive to park. Nothing. I was just thinking to myself if I needed to call the police department but since I couldn’t see or hear anything I let it pass. About an hour later, just as darkness was settling in behind the trees, I was taking the trash out to the cans and I heard them yelling again. I jumped on my ATV and headed back down the end of my driveway to see what was going on. By the time I got down there it was over once again.
Later in the night my wife were sitting out on the front porch talking when we heard glass breaking and then moments later a horrible scream. I told my wife to call the police right now and I took my ATV down to see what had happened. As I crossed the street leaving my driveway I could see a body laying off to the side of their driveway. As I got closer I could see it was the young lady and her body was twisted in an odd fashion. I get off the ATV in a panic of sorts to see if she is alive. Alive, yes, but really bloody. After I quickly surveyed my surroundings I determined the husband must still be in the house. She was trying to talk but the blood in her mouth made only gurgling noises. She had been pushed out of the second story sliding glass doors before falling off of the deck, landing in the grass. Her face was bloody, I tried to wipe it off to see where the blood was coming from but it kept pouring out just in front of her right ear. She was on top of her right leg and the way it sat I knew it was broken. When I straightened her legs out it was obvious it was broke as there was a sharp bone protruding through her pants. All I could do at this point was take off my shirt and hold it over her open leg wound in hopes to slow the bleeding.
I could hear the sirens in the close distance. I saw my wife at the end of the driveway directing them in. The police car was first, then an ambulance, and then the fire truck. The police officer asked what happened, he asked who I was, and what did I know. He walked me about 10 feet away from Sarah as the paramedics took over. Out of the blue her husband comes charging out yelling at the police officer that he wanted me arrested for trespassing. This instantly enraged me I suppose because I took two step and started pounding him in the head with every ounce of strength I had in me. In a matter of seconds he and I were both a bloody mess, not my blood, just his, as he never had a chance to swing back. For an instant I wanted him in the same pain he put his wife in, I wanted him to suffer, and it felt good pounding him under a full rush of adrenalin.
When we were separated we were both placed in handcuffs and sat in two separate cars. An investigator opened my door about ten minutes later to inform me that I was being arrested because the husband was pressing charges. I was removed from the car in a kind manner, patted down, read my rights, and placed back in the car. I watched the ambulance leave and figured it was now time to go. The door opened again so a medic could check out my injuries because of the blood. As suspected, I had none except a dislocated middle finger on my right hand. He gave me a shirt to wear that my wife had given to him and told me I would have a moment to tell her goodbye. She approached me with sad eyes and told me it would be okay and that she understands. The police officer placed me back in the car, closed the door, and away we went. After booking me they checked my injury and then secured me in a holding cell by my self.
A couple of hours later I was greeted at my cell by an officer who told me that I had an appointment with the judge. In the courtroom I was not asked to speak, the judge read the charges, and set the bail. My wife was in the room with us, she was waiting on the bail information, and then she left out of one door and I was led out another door headed back to the holding cell. A couple more hours passed and the officer came back to the cell and announced that I was being released because my wife had paid the bail. He told me that after we did some final paperwork that I would be released and free to go with my wife. Then we left, we headed home, and when we got there all I wanted to do was have a hot shower. That may have been the longest, hottest shower I have ever had in my entire life. As I was sitting on the edge of the bed with my face in hands hunched over, my wife climbed across the bed, kissed me on the back of the neck and told me that what I did she understands and stands behind me. I was neither comforted or alarmed by her statement, I felt guilty because that Sarah got hurt so badly.
A few days later my wife noticed that Sarah was home. I wanted to go talk to her but my wife said it might be better not to. Later that afternoon I get a call from the courthouse to inform me of my case dismissal hearing which was the following day. When I went to the hearing it was exactly that, proceeding had been started and completed for a complete dismal of all of the charges filed against me, to include battery and trespassing. Within a week we saw that her husband was now home. I was sad again because I know this cycle all to well.
Why hang the laundry up here? I thought it might help me work through all of my own emotions before I head to my second therapy session this afternoon. Did it help? I don’t know yet. Maybe I will never know.
Explaining my three fathers to my children has always been stories I enjoy telling. Sometimes it is like going down the wrong rabbit hole because it can be just a wee bit confusing. For those of y’all who just started playing along then I would guess y’all are at a bit of a loss. My recommendation is to search The Sting Of The Scorpion using the terms adoption, adopted, and biological. Then, perhaps y’all will be up to speed. Let me give a very brief review. I’m adopted, I’ve known my entire life. The fact that I was adopted was never the secret. In fact, until I turned 18 I never knew there was even a secret that people wished I never learned. In my case the records were sealed due to the circumstances of the pregnancy. Fortunately I was able to get them unsealed and have spent the better part of 25 years piecing together everyone’s dirty little secret, me.
On the backside of my property there lives an enormous oak tree. I find that when I’m in the presence of this oak tree that I tend to think of my family tree. My family tree is really twisted. If one was to look at it analytically I am actually the part of three family trees, if not more, each in a separate way that leads into a different direction. Confused yet? We’ll get back to that. I have had “family”, specifically my biological family, on my mind recently since we (my wife & I) are planning to visit my oldest daughter (23) in Rapid City South Dakota over spring break this coming March 2014. Most of my biological family lives in the state of South Dakota, as well as my biological father and adopted father are both buried there also. For the purposes of explanation in this post the following will be the reference points when I discuss my three fathers, BF = Biological Father, AF = Adopted Father, SF = Step Father, my BM (biological mother/birth mother), and my AM (adopted mother/mother). Refer back to these abbreviations during this post if needed.
Everyone seems to want a piece of me when we go on the trip when all I really care to do is spend time with my daughter and my 2 y/o granddaughter whom we haven’t seen in some time now. Now, personally, my “agenda” will be to spend time with my wife, kids, and my granddaughter. Now, will that happen? Your guess is as good as mine. As my younger children get older they have began to have questions about family because my side of the family is kinda complicated. Recently I, for the second or third time now, tried to explain things to my son, who I finally now think gets it. Me being adopted is not what is in question. How this fits into my life as well as my kids life is what always seems to be confusing. And, when I explain it here I might go out-of-order and bounce around a bit so just try pay attention. Like I mentioned above, from this point further I will address my fathers by their relationship to me. I needed to explain all of this to my children because they have never met my BF (biological father) or my AF (adopted father), all three of them only know my SF (step father) and all three of my children will be meeting my biological family (many of them but probably not all of them) in March.
So lets see where to begin here. I was born 06 November 1968 in a little town in the southeast of South Dakota. I was placed with my adopted parents within days of my birth. My adopted parents were divorced by the time I was 6. I will get into that another time. By the time I was turning 7 my mother was re-married and we all moved to the southwest side of Houston Texas. My AF remained in South Dakota where I visited him every Christmas break and summer vacation until he died at the end of the summer in 1983. I remained being raised by my SF and still to this day consider him to be my dad. Anything y’all read around this blog about the current happenings with my parents is about my mother and step father, which he is never referred to in the real world. There was never any secret of me being adopted, I have always “known” because I was told early on. Why? I don’t know. Before I start the next part, let it be known that my SF and my mother (AM) have always loved me and raised me if I was their own blood son. Their loyalty to me as a son has never, nor will it ever, be in question.
Once I was out on my own, joined the United States Air Force, married, and had my first daughter I was asked about my family history so medical records for my daughter could be started. I was at a loss, I was actually crushed because here I brought a child into existence and I don’t even know if I passed something on to her genetically that had the potential of being bad. I struggled with this fact for a few months as I held my daughter in my arms wondering if there were going to be things about herself that she would never know. After a brief discussion with my wife and a long conversation with my mother (AM) the decision was made I was going to find out who I was. It was the thought at the time, it gave me hope for myself and my daughter. Since I was stationed in Japan in 1991 I had to do things the old-fashioned way, I had to write letters. I actually only wrote two different letters, form letters, which I used to inquire about my adoption records and my biological parents. I won’t lie, I hit allot of dead ends, I got wrapped up in allot of red tape, and I was at a point (after a year) where I was ready to give up because there didn’t seem to be any information to have. Then, out of the blue, when I was ready to quit, I received a letter from the office of the Judge that was over my case back in 1968. I was informed that they had the information I was seeking, but, since I was overseas I needed to provide all my personal information along with an affidavit from my commander confirming my identity.
I gathered everything I had, to include birth certificate and the letter from my commander, loaded it in an envelope and sent it on it’s way. For the first couple of weeks I waited very patiently, then a month rolled by and my patience was wearing thin. After 3 months I just gave up. Soon after I received another letter from the office of the judge informing me that he has reviewed my case and my request and is granting my request to have my adoption records unsealed. I was informed that they were ordered sealed due to the circumstances of the adoption and the biological mother as a request of her parents. I had no idea what all of that meant and was more confused than ever. The following day I received a package (large envelope) from the judge’s office that had a complete copy of everything that was filed in accordance with my adoption proceedings. It was worse than my worst nightmare, everything I wanted to know was blacked out like this was some kind of top secret document. All of the names, dates, places, agencies, and so forth were either removed or blacked out altogether. These documents read like a very well written mystery, with one exception, I never got to find out “who did it”. So, for now, the quest for information is dead.
I was divorced in 1998, we split everything up, she went one way, and my daughter and I remained. I put 90% of my stuff into storage where it sat for the next few years. In 2000 I was remarried, I welcomed with open arms my own step daughter (that will be the only time you ever hear me refer to her as a step anything) and finishing up the remaining time I had for active duty Air Force Guard. In 2001, after my son was born, we decided we wanted to raise our family in a house and not an apartment. I didn’t want just any house, I wanted a house we could grow into, grow old in, and not need to move any more, as I was tired of all the moving over the years being in the Air force, I was done moving. I spent the next 18 months designing our new house. My wife thought I was the obvious choice as the architect since that is what I have a degree in. So I did it, between working for my SF as a concrete contractor I spent the hours needed creating our dream home. Once we were happy with the design I submitted it to a Texas state licensed architect for the “stamp of approval” I needed to move forward. I found 10.4 acres in a large lot subdivision that we really fell in love with. For the next 18 months we watched our dream come true.
After we got moved in I announced I needed to make a trip to New Mexico to gather my belongings out of a storage unit there. So, my oldest daughter and I loaded up a trailer and made the road trip. It wasn’t much, mostly boxes full of records, pictures, and different things I had collected while I was in the Air Force bouncing around the world. When we got back home I went to unpack the boxes and noticed the one that had all of my adoption research in it. Not wanting to stop, I had my daughter just put the box in the master bedroom closet for later. After about a month of organizing I was at the computer paying some bills, checking the weather, and just when I was getting done my wife comes in and announces “we need to talk” with tears rolling down her face. (Fuck! What did I do?) I knew I have done nothing so that couldn’t be it, so what was it. I noticed in her hand a letter that I had written so many years before and she asked me when I was going to tell her. Tell her? I thought she knew I was adopted, I really thought this had come up in conversation before. It had, but my quest for information was never talked about. To tell you the truth the box was put in my closet to protect it from humidity damage, I had no intention of going through it because in my opinion the quest was dead and I had given up. I explained to her I had no interest in talking about it but she was free to read all of it if she wanted to.
A few days later I was piddling around in the garage putting some shelves up when my wife comes out to let me know I had a phone call. Weird because I didn’t even hear the phone ring which was mere feet from where I was working. My wife holds her hand over the mouth piece as she whispers that she loves me in my ear. After I said hello there was an extremely long dramatic pause, so I said hello again. This time a woman said hello back to me. She went on to explain that my wife contacted her the day before and asked if her and I could talk. Okay, lets talk. She informed me of who she was, she explained to me that she was my biological mother (BM). I was at a loss for words. She told me she would tell me anything I wanted to know. She said we are older now so it was time for the truth to be told. Okay. She gave me a name and claimed it to be the biological father’s name but never kept up with him after I was born so that is all she knew. She then needed to go, this was too emotional for her, so we hung up. I was dumbstruck to say the least. Seems my wife is pretty sneaky. She told me she had “friends” who knew what to do with the information I had and in less than 24 hours had a name and a current phone number. Really? Really.
We found a number for the name she gave me and gave it a call. The plot thickened because the person she had me call was my BF’s good friend from back in the day. He put his name as the father and so forth to protect his friend’s marriage. This lie came between them a few years later and the friendship was severed, so he didn’t see the harm in giving me his name, the real name this time and he even had the phone number. After hanging up with him I called the number and asked to speak with the named person I was given and I was informed at that time by the man on the other end that he has been deceased since 1996. The man I was talking to was my BF’s wife’s new husband. He gave me the name and phone number of their oldest son if I wanted to talk with him because he might have more information. When I called him I got the answering machine. I left a message for him to call me and my information. When he returned the call we spoke for many hours because I knew things that nobody outside of their immediate family should even know. We were able to fill in each others blank spaces so to say. I offered up a DNA test to prove who I was and I was told that it wasn’t necessary he knew that I had to be genuine. The puzzle was indeed coming together for me and I basically unraveled everything he had ever known to be true. A few days later, his mother called me, she said she felt obligated since her husband had died before I could “confront” him in person. Yea, him being dead really did throw a wrench in it all for me.
I kept in telephone contact with my BF’s side of the family for a couple of years before it came time to go to my oldest daughter’s graduation in Rapid City South Dakota. She decided to go live with her mom, who guilted her into believing that her life was just too damn lonely without her. Since we were going to South Dakota for her graduation I had the bright idea that this would be the perfect time to meet my biological family as well as visit my AF’s grave that I have not seen since the day I buried him. I also contacted my BM and told her I was willing to drive to northern Idaho to meet her while we were on our trip. She declined as well as asking me not to contact her or her two other sons ever again. I have honored her request. I visited my AF’s grave, which was hard, it was emotional, and left me drained. The following day I visited my BF’s grave. This was hard as well but something I felt I needed to do. Why? I felt he needed to “see” me and “hear” my voice, I needed him to hear me and see me. I met all of his children, 4 sons and 4 daughters, and a whole slough of grandbabies, nieces, and nephews who had zero idea who this strange man was that was at their grandma’s house. The accepted me, it was like I had been on a long trip or lived far away and was finally returning home. Was it bizarre? Absolutely bizarre. by the time these 3 days were over my brain was mush, I felt like the wash cloth that gets crumpled up and left to dry in the corner of the shower, I was just done. But I had a graduation to go to, I had to get back on the road to drive five hours away to get to the next town for my oldest daughter’s graduation.
I talked with my daughter quite a bit about what has been happening. It involved her as well because the people I just met were here “people” biologically as well. I don’t think she was prepared for these talks but I know she walked away feeling better because now she had a few more answers that I could never give her before. The graduation was awesome, we were so happy for her because we know what an accomplishment it is to graduate. We spent the next few days with my daughter, doing different things, just her and I, it had been a long time since we got to just sit and shoot the shit together. The day came that it was time to head home, it was time to head back to Texas. I was out of energy, I was drained, and borderline torn if I needed to extend my trip so I could go to Idaho. Then, after a heated debate with myself, we drove back to Texas.
To this day I am close to my father (SF). He is close with all of my children. Until just weeks ago my 17 y/o daughter and my 12 y/o son didn’t know he was my step father. I had to explain so much to say so little. My son is looking forward to the trip to South Dakota to visit with people and to see the grave which bears the name of his grandfather which he has never met but was named after. It should be an interesting trip. My whole family will be involved this time in meeting all the biologicals, I’m told it will be a family reunion of sorts. I hope my wife and kids are up for the journey which is ahead of us. I will let y’all know if I was up to it when we get back. Until then, I guess this story is on pause. It’s not over, but it’s over for right now. I wonder what other people do when they try to explain their own family tree(s) to their kids. I bet allot of people are glad their roots aren’t so complicated.
The nature of the human beast is to explore and experiment. So, growing up most of us are taught that drugs can and will do many scary things to the human brain and body. We have all seen that these effects can be blown out of proportion, making it seem like a few tokes at a party can send you spiralling into addiction, and then leading to a life of crime. The drugs listed below are worse than anything you were ever warned about. These drugs can and will fuck your life up beyond repair. Anybody that has been around me a bit knows that I don’t judge what a person does in their life. Well, that is not exactly true, if you are fucktard I will judge you. So let’s look at ten (10) really fucked up drugs and explore why you may not want to have them enter your body by any means.
Human Growth Hormone (HGH)
2,4-Dinitrophenol or DNP
Okay boys, girls, and the usual fucktard, this information was not provided so y’all could increase your stash it was done to increase your repertoire of knowledge. I know, since I am not stupid (all the time), that there are those of you who are thinking it is pretty cool that all of these fabulous drugs can still be found on the market today. This should not be the time that y’all take an opportunity to call your hook up to see if they can get you things off of your new shopping list. In my twisted way this is to serve as an educational tool and provide a little humor on behalf of all the dumb bastards that had to show society that they are indeed not super-human. As much as I enjoyed reading all about these drugs and as much as I enjoyed writing about them, there comes a time when a post has to come to an end. This is that time. Now, go find something useful to do with yourselves, just keep your hands on top of the table where everyone can see them because I know where some of your minds go sometimes.