Posts tagged medical marijuana
Yeah, i did get that hip replaced, and I’m lucky to get medical weed, but then again, i may not be too lucky to get medical weed if I had to get it because I had a failing hip.
Yeah, surgery was not fun. There was a hole next to that large incision because a draining tube was in there, to make sure I did not have a build up of gross fluid building up inside of the wound after I had parts of my bones cut off and replaced with plastic and metal. I haven’t had a full size x-ray film to take a photo of since surgery, but I have seen that fake joint in there, on a tiny x-ray in my chart with the orthopedic surgeon, and i will eventually get a larger one. I will not be getting a MRI on that hip ever again though. I wonder if I will be able to get a MRI for any part of my body now.
The wound did heal up nicely, but there is still a depression where that drain tube was, and the scar feels weird, parts of it nearly numb because some nerves were inevitably cut in the operation. Such a deep wound did not seem to take very long to heal, and I was so very careful about not dislocating the new hip that I probably still don’t use it as hard or normally as I could.
I still catch myself limping when I don’t have to, fearing that eventually if I walk enough the old pain will return. There is still pain, but it is different, and not quite as severe. My mental issues are more of a block to me than this hip is at times, but then again, my body still tries to act like the hip is a problem, since I could not use it for so long that my left leg actually got physically smaller than the right one.
At least I was able to have medical weed before and after surgery though. I did not have it right after surgery, although that would have been nice. I should have considered getting my hands on a vaping solution before i got surgery, so I could have gotten high right in the hospital on the down low after surgery.
I did get to smoke in the 2nd week after surgery, when I had a friend sneak some weed and a pipe into the rehab place I was at. It was kind of a nursing home, my room mate seemed to have had a massive brain injury at some point, and he would talk about having a vagina and a baby on a regular basis.
I wanted to visit him after I got out, and I had to go back to do some paperwork, but I didn’t. I wanted to get out of there as soon as my business there was finished, even after I said repeatedly that I would use that opportunity to see that guy. I think I was still guilty about leaving him there, even though he is literally not my problem.
I felt like i helped him to talk more when I was there interacting with him, and I felt badly for abandoning him now that he seemed to be more focused and “present”. I still have to let that go, it’s not my job, I have my own issues to deal with now that my hip is not my constant excuse to be physically careful, or at least for much longer I think.
I have to wonder if doing a little medical weed would have helped him, but then again, this facility was strictly non smoking, even in an outside courtyard where I was able to sneak it anyway. Maybe someone knew, and could smell it, or maybe even saw me do it out of a window, but nobody confronted me, and I wanted out of there so badly after I voluntarily put myself there to prevent injuring myself by trying to do too much.
Now that I’m able to get a bag legally, I can barely afford it! There is the issue where trying to buy a whole ounce at a time does not make it cheaper anymore, when they try to sell you two half ounces for the half ounce price and won’t give you any discount on volume. I know, that is the “old days” I guess. One casualty of the now legal means in which I can buy and own weed without freaking out and being paranoid about it. On the other hand, I can’t brag too openly about it though, because I don’t want anyone to think I have enough to make it worth harassing me about it. I don’t sell it, I just take my little card to the local dispensary, one opened up right next to the apartment at some point!
This was some surprise to me, when I saw the signs, after the place had already opened up. I went in and got a gram just because, I could not believe that it had finally happened. I mean, i was walking in to my very first legal, physically “real” weed dispensary, and it had actually opened up remarkably close to where I was living.
Yeah, I was pretty surprised when I could go over there and walk out with a jar full of weed, a whole ounce, and not the crappy stuff that I was getting when I lived in Louisiana. This was high grade medical stuff, and even the “cheapest” of that stuff is still amazing and much better than anything I was used to for my entire life before having access to this.
I was so shocked to go into a “store” and walk out with a “jar of weed” and it was all legal, and further, my right to treat my pain the way I had become used to was finally validated, after a lifetime of living in the shadows, paranoid of getting busted, worried about getting a record, and worried about how harsh the state of Louisiana would be because they seem to want to lock EVERYBODY up.
Right now, down in the state shaped like a boot, synthetic weed carries the same penalties for real weed, from what I read recently, but who knows if that’s true? I know Billy the exterminator, the guy with that show I don’t watch, got busted in some not so cheap hotel in the Courtyard Marriott in Benton, Louisiana with fake weed and he went to real jail… I won’t go to jail, and I have jars of freaking weed, well, one at a time, there is a 2.5 ounce limit and I never come that close. I’m not rich y’all!
I know there was a whole jar there at one point, but I took my time getting around to taking the photo! There are 2 more jars that I did take the time out to share though! Next time, the jar gets a photo nearly full of weed, along with a receipt just in case it tries to fade like other receipts from other places have in the past.
The fire alien super skunk was amazing, but it’s hard to tell the difference between this, the herojuana, and the “outer space” that I got later on. It is just all so good and gets me so very high!
These big jars of medical weed are pretty, smell nice, and create an amazing high. The herojuana was an indica hybrid, whatever that means, no, really, I need to study this stuff. I know that there are indicas and sativas, and there is this big difference between the two, if you can actually tell once you are high I guess. 🙂
With cute names like lil sebastian and outer space, it’s no wonder it has taken so very long for the industry to reach specific standards and be taken seriously. Then again, weed has always been “underground” because it has been illegal for so very long, in fact, it still is on a federal level as of this writing, even if the feds seem to lay off people in states who legally obtain weed with a medical card, like I have.
This card expired in early 2016, but I have a new one that was renewed, and I will get it renewed again, but the 3rd time I get this card it will be a hell of a lot cheaper!!! When I got the card, there was only a handful of doctors who would sign a recommendation, but that all changed when the dispensaries opened up everywhere! It seems that I was right, once more dispensaries were in existence, or at least ONE, there would be much more push to get more doctors to sign those recommendations, because the new dispensaries NEED CUSTOMERS!
This weed was called “outer space” and as far as I’m concerned, it sent me to outer space just as thoroughly as the “fire alien super skunk” or the “lil sebastian” or the “herojuana” or any of the many strains that I was getting before I knew what I was getting at all because it came in a plastic bag after a transaction in a parking lot!
When I go to list some of the strains of weed that I have been so lucky to get to try in the “tags”, I think it is so awesome that I have finally gotten to match a name with the high, instead of just getting some generic random baggy with a bunch of buds in it that I knew were the right weight, but I knew nothing other than what it weighed, because I could measure that. I rarely if ever thought to ask about the name of a strain, but I knew that the person could just make it up.
Outer space popcorn buds seems to look kind of purple when photographed with no flash. It’s still bright green with a flash, and maybe hints of purple here and there between the green. It’s so pretty, but it’s all going to burn no matter how nice it looks. There is an exception to that though, if you are going to eat the weed, but not really eating weed, but an extract put into candy.
I like this one, “bears on clouds”. The only problem is that I wasn’t on clouds after eating it. I didn’t really feel anything at all, but I am so used to smoking weed, and, if I had smoked any before eating this, I would have just felt whatever I smoked. I believe that I held out and did not smoke before eating one of these, but then again, I probably would have smoked recently enough before eating this so that I still had residual THC higher than what’s in this thing. The label had more info though. Still don’t help me.
Yeah, 25mg, I’m just as lost as if I was trying to figure out exactly what I would feel like after a shot of 40 “proof” vodka in a glass half full of “tampico” juice. You know that’s not really juice. It goes so damn good with vodka though, right? Anyway, I have a pretty good idea how I might feel after 4, 5 and then 6 ice beers that are 5.9% alcohol, but I have not drank vodka in so very long, I can only assume that one shot would feel like one beer once consumed in a mixed drink. I can’t assume anything though, because after the first shot, each drink would be a double, and then I would start diluting with water but still hitting the vodka, and worst of all, with kool aid, probably pink lemon aid or just plain lemon aid.
You have to keep that pipe clean, or you are just slapping yourself right in the nuts. A good way to waste good weed is to try to smoke it through a pipe that has some tiny hole air is sometimes going through. Burning it so that the stuff liquefies and then sucking through a gurgling, bubbling mess is not going to help either. I’ve got a system now involving 2 jars, one with rubbing alcohol in it, and the pipe can just soak overnight and a q-tip is more than enough to clean it out. You need some alcohol soaked wet wipes though to clean your hands after dealing with this stuff, it’s horrible. Just imagine my lungs! Geez! LOL
Yes, I did get it renewed. I have already had the address changed once, so they sent me a 2nd card, which is cool because usually they ruin the previous one when you get a renewal. They are so uptight, they don’t even take the ID they issue as proof of ID when you go to the DMV to get an ID… Yeah, if it sounds confusing, just wait until you have to go in there with 2 things that have been mailed to you, and they have to be important, not junk mail. Then you don’t get a card right there, it’s mailed to you.
That was a real pain when the mail boxes at the apartment got broken into, and I had to take a bus to a post office several miles away to pick up mostly junk with a few important things, like Candy’s fucking ID. But, it is done, mission accomplished, don’t have to do that again. I do have to go back to that post office again though because those boxes are still fucked. I guess it’s even more secure to get mail at the post office than these fucking boxes with the fucking delinquents running around that apartment complex.
I have had the opportunity to smoke some pretty exotic weed in the last few months, or over the course of the last year and a half. For the first six months that I had a weed card I was still going through a dealer that I was grateful to know. The prices got much cheaper through the dispensaries though and I was able to pick exactly what I wanted, or I should say, let Candy pick what she wanted, because I still split it with her and she picks the strain. I just have to hope she keeps it cheap, which she has been, she’s getting just as cheap as I am lately. 🙂
Long buds, short buds, green buds, purple buds, it’s all so good. I can barely tell them apart, especially if I start drinking that 5.9% alcohol ice beer I was talking about before. Sometimes a local convenience store gets a deal on some nearly expired craft beer and it can go as high as 8% alcohol. That totally kicks my ass, I can’t really do a whole six pack of those but sometimes I have mistakenly tried. I was taking tramadol back then too! I have quit doing all the pills, or I should say “any” pills, because I only did 2 for pain to begin with. Any xanax was donated to me and taken as I received it, so I am not “in possession” of it. That shit is good, but I can’t do it very often at all!
This beer was amazing, and I can only barely remember it. I did take a photo of the label though, and it was 8% alcohol. For a beer, that is powerful. That’s why the ice beers are so popular, and why they always put “5.9% alcohol” right on the packaging. They are bragging because they know cheapskates like me are looking for that high alcohol content!
You can almost see the alcohol content. I must truly love drinking. I know that the alcohol lobby probably has something to do with the fact that weed is still largely illegal in most states, and currently as I write this, on a federal level. I also know that it’s not just big alcohol, it’s big pharma, big police unions, big correctional unions, and the power of old people to grasp onto and never let go of status quo. I hope for a future when people are not being locked up for a freaking plant, but this is the good old U S of A we’re talking about. Home of the free and the brave, and the highest incarcerated population of any country in the world. Yes, the entire world. That world includes Russia and China in my reality, so maybe we should stop making them out to be the big villain all the time at this point.
So much sushi, so little time. I love sushi, but I can’t really afford it. It’s a good thing that I have seemingly proved my usefulness with a few very special people, so that this seems to happen every once in a while, and I’m told that I actually deserve it. I know I’m very lucky, as long as the thread holding my reality together at the seams holds. If just one segment anywhere important breaks, there is a shitload of trouble coming my way, and all I can do is attempt to brace myself, or in the case of being drunk, not brace myself for whatever comes.
Maybe it’s this “endless shrimp mentality” that is causing people to remain so comfortable with the status quo. There is no reason to keep putting up with the kind of massive injustice that exists in this society, except, it’s just easier to go along, which is actually my philosophy, except for what my fingers decide to type now and then. If my writing is a rebellion against good writing, it’s also a rebellion against the blind acceptance of the status quo. I have a fully viewable but still accepting it perception of the status quo. I may actually register to vote for the first time ever just to vote yes on question 2, which is to basically legalize weed in the state of Nevada, where i live now that I ran away from Louisiana so long ago. I beat another flood in Baton Rouge this time!
I like to watch my food cower in fear before I eat it! I guess I can’t keep complaining because I have it pretty good, I’m really lucky, and I have just enough friends to get by without getting fucked over, so far. I want to thank everyone in my life that helped me to refuse to get hip surgery for months and then finally talk me into it in the “last minute rush” to get that appointment when I finally got cut on. I almost TURNED DOWN THAT APPOINTMENT. Now I’m glad I didn’t. I was a little different for a few years that I was in so much pain. I don’t think medical weed was really enough to help. I was a real asshole on many occasions, and sometimes I wonder if I was being pushed additionally by the creeping, slowly growing pain in my hip before I got surgery. Now I watch people I care about suffer because I know that nobody is going to give them this surgery.
I love producing and delivering random content and trying to call it art. I think it is, but I wonder sometimes, if it was such a good thing that bbw and even ssbbw content became such a regular thing all the sudden. Like, it’s a very weird trade off with what’s going on. It’s like fat all the sudden became “ok” with a big woman as long as she is “DTF” in the process of already being big. I should not and will not get into all of that. I deleted every post that I created over years because of posts that included comments about women that I myself later felt may be offensive. I have to change the subject, but I also had to put this photo here and point out the irony. I am buzzed by now, and I wasn’t when I started this post. Maybe I saved it to “drafts” because I thought that it needed input from drunk me.
I knew what I was in for when I moved to the “big city” of fabulous Las Vegas. So far, I kind of like it, but then again, I only go out in the daytime and I have not been seriously assaulted yet, so who knows what will happen to my opinion of this place? I know that I have to accept the over all outcome, which is, I met someone that I believe I was supposed to meet, even if it has NOT BEEN EASY AT ALL TO GET USED TO THE DIFFERENCE.
Life in the big city, with mountains all the way around me, as if I am waiting for water to just fill this place up and wash it away. it’s beautiful in ways, it’s ugly in ways, it is what it is, and I live here because I chose it, rather than just being dragged somewhere as a baby by someone else and then deciding that I should grow up and die in the very same place myself.
I’m going to publish this, instead of letting it sit in drafts, and I may come back and do a part 2, but for now, this should just go up as it is… Thanks… I still don’t want to delete this domain name as I let all kinds of others just kind of vanish, or turn into Japanese spam sites, like bbwglamour.com. LOL
Eat those beets! Oh, I know that there is no way to understand scale and know how large my incision was…
Closing in on tax time, having already “done the deed” and paid what I owe, I’m reminded of how the year really does kind of start in April for me instead of January. I have had a slight anxiety about tax time since a few years back when I made the totally ignorant decision not to file for 2 years. I was getting income without any W-2 or 1099-Misc, so I thought, “what they don’t know helps me.”
It wasn’t very long before that delusion was fixed by the realization that sooner or later, some other shit would get tied into taxes, and if you didn’t file, you couldn’t take advantage of certain opportunities. Just a few short years later, after I had already repaired the financial damage of catching up, Obamacare was announced.
It was rough to catch up, because I had to print out everything from 3 years, because I was filing the 2 skipped years as I filed the 3rd year “on time”. When I saw the difference in how much the year on time cost me versus each year skipped plus penalties, I realized how foolish it was to skip those years to begin with. I considered just filing the current year and not saying anything about the 2 skipped years, but then the whole thing happened with “Wesley Snipes” getting busted for owing millions.
There was a freaky, weird combination of paranoia and intuition causing me to decide to file 2 skipped years as I finally acted like an adult and filed the current year. There was also the fact that “clips 4 sale” uses a system of sending out a 1099-misc whenever someone makes more than $600 in a single year. Success has it’s consequences.
I was lucky to make more than $600 in a year, but shocked to see that 1099-Misc come in the mail in early Feb. At that point, it all hit me, that I was fooling myself, and that you can’t fool a data mining, privacy invading entity like the U. S. Department of Treasury and get away with it. When I filed those 3 years, I did it in person, bringing paper returns in to an IRS office in myself.
I made a comment to the big beautiful agent who I ended up with that “I’m not going down like Wesley Snipes.” She laughed out loud. I also made a comment that there is no point in hiding income because the government knows how much you make already anyway. All my income is “digital” and I’m sure that I am not the only one being made aware of each deposit from each company.
I was so nervous about all that stuff, as most people probably would be. Yet, I chose to put myself right into one of their offices, in person, and hand over tax returns from previous years in an act of surrender. I kept reading that the IRS goes easier on you if you go to them rather than them coming to you. That translates into something else that happened years after I caught up and continued to file on time.
When Candy was gone the second time for 8 months, I got to know a neighbor who started talking to me while I was outside smoking cigarettes that I no longer smoke. His name was Kevin, and he worked as a carpenter, which also means contractor. He was good at what he does. I’ve seen some shitty carpentry, and his work was way superior. He knew what he was doing, and he could get jobs with apartment complexes that were being remodeled easily.
He had made some friends with apartment management people who could provide him with regular work. Even though he didn’t have a typical 9-5 job, he was a hustler who could go out there and find some kind of job just as he needed the cash.
Unfortunately, he hadn’t filed taxes in over a decade. He had been working “under the table” here and there, but a few of those apartment complexes did issue him 1099’s because they were up to date on their taxes, and nobody is going to pass up the chance to write off payments to contractors as a tax deduction. That’s where my buddy Kev got fucked.
He was so confident in his ability to get away without filing taxes, that he had an account at a credit union in his own name, with over $10,000 in it. One day he knocks on my door freaking out because he want to his credit union to get some cash, and they told him that his account had been closed by the IRS.
Another irony. I felt dumb at one point for giving up all the financial info that I did to end up with a tax liability that was pretty close to the $10,000 mark myself. Luckily, I didn’t freak out, and I simply started a “payment plan” with them. After just a few years of paying a bare minimum, there was only a little over $1000 left. At that point, Candy was gone and I was having financial issues, so I called them on the phone, and I was able to request a “penalty abatement” right then and there.
Because of my positive payment history, and the fact that I had continued to file on time every year after, they actually took off $1000 of penalties, so I went from owing over a thousand to owing under just one payment with one phone call to them.
The lawyers on television that advise you not to talk to the IRS are real douche bags. Those greedy, selfish cock suckers would have you pay them thousands of dollars to file an “offer in compromise” which the IRS turns down a vast majority of. That means, you could pay a lawyer to file that one thing for you, and then the IRS turns it down, so now you still have to pay them the full amount plus pay that scum bag lawyer!
I could have tried an offer in compromise myself, but I don’t think it would have been accepted, because the first year that I started paying on those back taxes, I made more cash than I had in any year before or since. I went up to nearly 29K in one year, which for me, is a lot. I know that so many people would feel some kind of pity on me for living my whole life around the 20k per year range, but money doesn’t make me “happy”, life experience and growth does.
The request for penalty abatement is easier to get than an offer in compromise, and not to mention it only took one phone call instead of pages of documentation. I didn’t really owe quite enough for an offer in compromise anyway. That’s for the big hitters who get paid twice what I do every year and go twice as long as I did without filing!
When Kev lost his bank account, I started to suggest a few ways that he could hide his income in the future. He had already considered some of those things, but he was in a panic about what to do “right now” and what to do about rent when it was coming up. I immediately felt compelled to start avoiding him at that point, because a “friend in need” and all. I’m so used to people going into “bum mode” when something like that happens, but I should have considered how Kev really is a hard worker.
Kev did bounce back, he got some job and started making money just in time, just like I did myself when I got 2 job offers just weeks before barely having rent in the bank. The problem with Kev is, even though he started making more money, he already felt such a loss, that his hustling habits started back up.
By the time I left Louisiana, he had managed to beg around $40 off of me, which is a *lot* because I don’t give money out like a charity, usually. He also owed me a little weed, but it didn’t matter by the time I was leaving Louisiana because I didn’t want to be traveling 2000 miles in a uhaul pulling my van holding on to a drug that could literally cause me to lose everything if I was caught with it. At least, that was before getting the medical marijuana card, but then again, while moving, that card would be worthless in the 5 states that I would travel through on the way to Nevada.
Nothing justified the years of paying monthly on my back taxes like watching Kevin lose over $10,000, and not even want to approach the IRS to see if he could get that money back if he agreed to file all returns not previously filed and get on a payment plan to pay any back taxes owed. When I suggested that to him, he looked at me and laughed, saying “I will never make enough money to pay them what I owe them.”
That’s what I may have thought myself at the time when I got hit with the letter from the IRS after they “evaluated” my case and gave me the bottom line figure that I would owe them. It’s ironic that I talk about how adversity creates inspiration and motivation, because the year that I got that bill, I’ve already said I made more money than I had ever made, and more than I have made any year since then.
Now, I would be crazy to jack my income up over $20k, because I have to keep it below %133 of the federal poverty guideline in order to be eligible for medicaid. Why is it so important to be eligible for medicaid? Because, I realize that if I made $20k instead of less than $15.5K, at least according to the federal poverty guideline issued for the year 2014, I would probably not be able to afford insurance payments, prescription cost, plus paying estimated taxes all year so I don’t owe over $800 like I did this fucking year!
I was lucky because I anticipated putting out around $600. I thought I had paid enough to only owe $500 by the time I filed, but the fucking self employment tax calculator I used was off by hundreds of dollars!
Yeah, I thought I would owe $500, and because the first estimated tax payment is due April 15th, and I wait until nearly the last minute to file because I know I have to pay out, I was ready to put out $200 for the first payment along with $500 for what I owed. Unfortunately, I owed $800 and still had to make a payment by the April 15th first estimated payment deadline, so I only paid $100 in estimated…
I am not paying estimated taxes quarterly this year. That shit is too hard, because every time I am prepared to put out over $400, for one quarterly payment, some shit comes along and causes me to delay paying that much, and then I fail to catch up later in the year. This year, I’m going to pay $250 or more per month, so by the end of the year, I will have already put up $2000. That way, if my taxes are higher than that, it can’t be by much, and I will be able to make a full first estimated payment at the same time I pay off whatever I failed to pay for the previous year.
My expenses went down, my income went up for 2014. That would normally be a good thing, but not in my case, because it bumped me up to the next higher tax table and I got hit with about $400 more in taxes owed than the previous year. Just making an extra $2000 cost me more than $400 in taxes… Not spending $500 in expenses this year that I spent in the previous year also raised income by that much too, which fucked me even harder.
The truth is, I am such a cheap bastard that I have been successful in my first month quitting smoking because I can’t bear to pay nearly $200 a month in fucking cigarettes! Fuck nicotine, that shit is too fucking expensive! Paying that money for cigarettes each and every month was throwing away some of the income that I am limiting to be eligible for medicaid!
Drinking beer also contributes to money loss over time, in what adds up to a shocking annual expenditure, but not nearly to the extent that cigarettes were. The sad thing is, our wonderful, allegedly “free enterprise” system came up with this strategy of penalizing smokers with artificially raised cost in order to deter them from smoking. Isn’t it ironic how the poorest of people cling on to such an expensive, self destructive habit?
When I started to seriously add it all up, it was so shocking to me that I was able to be bled so hard by taxes and then waste so much money on top of that! I, like most people, would choose for years to be so lazy that I would have every ability and intention of adding up those little costs over time, but I would conveniently prioritize it so low that I would never get around to it.
It wasn’t until I started to add stuff up in my mind, using approximations about frequency that are probably remarkably accurate without going back to the receipts that I have organized into categories. I could have simply started using a more thorough method of organization to put cigarette receipts in one envelope, and then pull it out after 3 months of accumulation to come up with a monthy, and yearly average cost. That would have probably shocked me into quitting smoking right then and there.
I didn’t need a “new years resolution” to quit smoking, or to make my accounting method more purposeful and serious. I have finally dumped my out of state checking account, so I can have all my income reflected in all deposits in just one account. Lucky for me, the local account that I have now allows me to search for specific transactions over a defined period of time and actually provide a total at the bottom of the spreadsheet.
I won’t mention names of banks here, but the old bank had the capability of searching a date range for deposits, but they didn’t give a total at the bottom. I would have to take a screen shot of that spreadsheet and then manually add up the numbers over a whole year with ‘calculator’.
The new account does it for me, so it’s one stop shop to see income total at any give time in the year. This allows me to create a very distinct trajectory over time and give a pretty good estimate of annual income based on the first few months.
This is internet publishing, so amount of income can fluctuate based on effort put into the work itself. The second one stops updating things, the money stops soon after. The work basically goes “inactive” and people start copying it and putting it everywhere. I like to say that all models quit, and when they do, the dating sites start using their images as spam, because nobody that attractive joins those dating sites.
So, instead of quitting smoking cigarettes as a new year resolution, I made a fiscal year resolution. It’s not exactly the same time as a corporate fiscal year, it’s an idea that pops into my head when I consider my use of the title “the year starts here.”
Now, I have had the idea to not only stash business expense receipts into one envelope, why not use the 3 categories that I use the most? Supplies, Repairs and maintenance, and Legal and professional services are the 3 categories that I have used consistently for certain things, and I maintain all receipts and notes on why those receipts are relevant.
I get so specific that because food is something used as a “prop”, I can’t put it into the Deductible meals and entertainment (see instructions) category. It’s bad enough that I use “supplies” when it’s followed by ” (not included in Part III).” The “meal” is being used as a prop in a mini documentary, so it is actually more of a supply, assuming props for production would go there. It’s an item being used but destroyed in the process of creating a documentary which generates nearly all income being taxed to begin with. It’s a full circle that somehow combines taxes with food. Weird.
Because I would not want to appear to be abusing food as an expense, I keep all food receipts that are not used as props in another envelope. If I were ever confronted about the use of a dozen or so food receipts as expenses, I would pull out the huge envelope of food receipts for the same year that were *not used*. While the receipts for the food that was not used are irrelevant to taxes, being in possession of those receipts validates the relatively few receipts that are being deducted as expenses.
This strategy is what I call the “avalanche of paperwork theory”. It cost me an ink cartridge when I was ready to verify my income to the department of welfare to keep my medicaid, and all they wanted was the 2 pages of the tax return that showed income and expenses. Like they had to go compare it to the database they have stashed somewhere that shows what the government already knows I am making.
I’m not taking all of the assistance I could, because I don’t want to be dependent on any system that one political party wants to destroy so badly. Oh, guess who? I don’t have to bash conservatives here, I rarely get deep into politics unless I’m talking about drugs.
I really do need the help though. Even if I made more, I would be paying even more taxes. I am legitimately making under %133 federal poverty guidelines, but I still had to pay $2397 in “self employment tax”. Yeah, I would pay less taxes if I made more money working at a fast food place… That makes so much sense to me.
In a way, Obamacare is not free. I am paying for my medicaid, because my income after expenses is below $15,000 a year, but I am paying $2400 in income tax. I was prepared for just over $2000 because of that shitty online estimated tax calculator. I was doing the whole year income after expenses, so it wasn’t like I was depending on it for the quarterly payments. Now, I don’t want to make quarterly payments because a monthly bill of $250 or more is more manageable than coming up with $750 a quarter… I have no fucking idea why they don’t *encourage* that.
They know that they are taking a big chunk out of a very low income, and they don’t care. I pay it, because I would rather be honest and pay it now than be caught and pay even more later. I know about data mining and data collection. I know that there are databases that I have no way of knowing about, but if it’s possible, and smarter people than me are working on it, I can rest assured that they are reading what I type as I read it. It’s not paranoia, I’m not angry about it, I just live my life in gratitude that I have what I have, and I have the talent and ability to create what I create.
I’m not bitter because I don’t make a lot of money. I don’t make a lot of money because I don’t try. I don’t try because I have very real physical and emotional issues that are waiting to be completely resolved. I have quit smoking, and I am not the slightest bit tempted to go back. I didn’t get drunk on ice beer last night, and I wasn’t trying “not” to drink. I don’t have to drink every day, I could go days or weeks without it and just shift over to another hobby, maybe writing in some blog that nobody will ever read.
I can’t drink when I want to do something, because I know, while sober, that while I’m drunk I don’t want to do anything, except for drink, and maybe rant weird shit on twitter and facebook for some reason. Actually, I kind of suspect the reason already, being a coping mechanism that I picked up when I was emotionally devastated by Candy’s 2 previous departures, and then the constant threat of leaving a 3rd time after we moved to Vegas. Thankfully, that has been resolved, and therefore, Candy has given me a break from being depressed so I can work on my fucking issues for once.
It’s ironic, that Candy wanted the version of me that she met to “come back”. She kept leaving and coming back hoping that every time she left, I would get better instead of getting worse. In a way, I got a lot better after she came back the second time, because I managed to keep working that shitty job that was ripping me off by not paying my payroll taxes, and I saved up enough to move to Las Vegas a 2nd time in my life.
This time I had the big 16′ truck, towing the big shitty van, that I still have and it still actually works. I never drove a truck that big, I never towed a 6 wheel trailer with a shitty van on it, and I was lucky to only have to back up one time, to leave the parking lot I was moving from, and I almost fucked up the trailer hitch right then. Luckily, I had enough space after getting into that weird angle to go forward, clearing a big brick fence, but going right over a bunch of grass.
The irony of Candy leaving and coming back hoping to find a better version of me is that her leaving created a catastrophic deep level depression that would take time for me to resolve. There is no immediate reaction in this complex brain, and habits ingrained over time have to be removed over time.
When Candy threatened to leave the 3rd time, while we were in Vegas, it didn’t help me to get better. It caused me to descend into the emotional state I felt either time she left before, but only on occasion. There were stretches of productivity and drive interrupted by intense episodes of inner depression. Candy would not see them as an obvious manifestation of anything being “wrong”, she would just notice that I got a little more drunk than usual, or listened to sad music instead of high energy electronic music.
There wasn’t much room for sympathy in Candy’s heart for what I was going through, because she started to feel like she already “had enough”. I started to recognize a familiar pattern where Candy comes back, I am working on myself, but I’m not fast enough, she loses patience, and she runs away again.
I quit drinking vodka because she came back, but she knew that I had to step down with beer until a certain “point”. That point was for me to choose, not her, and she recognized that while she was gone, she wanted to work with me to get through it because she was not with me for months before.
I would make promises, but still know and share my limitations based on my ability to just “snap back” after what really was a complete nervous breakdown. Most people who got down to the level I did would have had to go through a lot more bullshit before pulling themselves out of it. The fact that I managed to get a job while Candy was gone showed her that I could stay sober long enough to at least pull that off.
When Candy came back, I didn’t think I was overdoing it, but I kind of was. I was setting limits on myself and then breaking them repeatedly. We were staying in different rooms, and by the time we would decide to “hang out”, I was drunk already. I didn’t stay drunk all day, but our timing was such that we would tend to “do our own thing” all day and then maybe hang out in the evening. If I started drinking too early, or Candy hadn’t announced she wanted to hang out early enough, I would start with the beer, and it didn’t take much.
When I was doing vodka, I had a high tolerance. When i started doing beer, I used the 12 pack limit over 2 days to try to control myself. That started to break down, and not long ago I was picking up the 30 pack because it’s “cheaper”.
It’s not really cheaper if a 30 pack is consumed in even less time than 2 12 packs. It wasn’t until I started to see myself descend into a higher and higher tolerance that I realized what I was doing to myself. I was slowly letting it get worse instead of better.
Candy had an epiphany that involved a lot of shit I don’t want to get back into now, but she realized that she couldn’t control me, and the time line for me to get back to “normal” was not decided by her, or even all parts of myself. It wasn’t until I decided to finally stop smoking that I realized how much control I could grasp again over all other addictions disguised as “needs”.
Candy is related to my desire to quit smoking as well, because when I watched her breathing getting worse and worse before treatment, I realized that she didn’t even smoke and she could barely keep enough oxygen coming in. She’s huge, so just standing up for her is like me picking up 300lbs. I can only imagine what it would be like to be on a level of gravity that few humans ever experience, without weight lifting.
I started to notice that as I was pushing her around on this bariatric transport chair that I would get winded way too quickly. I would notice it during sex, and also realize that it effected my energy level too. Once I started to realize how much i was paying to destroy my sex life, quitting smoking wasn’t a priority, it was a necessity.
Because I can actually use having sex to create content, which creates income, I also have another incentive to stop spending so much of that precious little income on something that is destroying my physical ability.
Now that I have quit smoking, there is less of a desire to consume too much alcohol, because there is a renewed awareness of my ability and how it is compromised by the use of both nicotine and alcohol.
If I think I am a relatively smart person, I should not have figured this out so slowly. On the other hand, it’s hard to want to improve yourself when you secretly want to die. I had to have many varied experiences involving other people besides Candy to finally realize that I was limiting my own potential and also the time I have to do everything that I fantasize about doing in my short and half over life.
In just the very first month that I have quit smoking, I have tested myself in a variety of ways, and I already see a marked improvement of oxygen intake. I realize that I have smoked for 2 decades on and off, more on than off, and it will take much more time to do serious healing. I realize that I may never be granted with the full capacity I might have if I had never started smoking that shit to begin with.
One interesting fact, after getting the medical marijuana card, I made the simple observation that nicotine doesn’t get you “high”, it just takes you down from an anxiety that is created by the addiction to it in the first place.
That shit is fucked up. I get so mad at myself when I realize that quitting smoking right now, and paying taxes monthly instead of quarterly, is going to cause no change in my budget whatsoever. I don’t have to set aside money for taxes if I’m paying monthly, and because I’m saving almost that amount by not spending it on something else, the taxes become more “invisible” unless they go even higher.
When I bring the drinking down to half of what it has become, I will be saving even more money. The beer doesn’t cost as much as cigarettes though. If I spend $8 on beer as often as every 2 days, that’s still $120. That is the maximum allowed amount that I let myself get though, with my strategy of attempting to control alcoholism through intake restriction rather than abstinence.
I was spending that much on crap that I don’t need, and I am way too poor to think I need that shit! I am not bitter about being “poor” because I enjoy living with such a strategic outlook and not giving away money on crap that I am being made to believe I want, when i don’t really want it.
I have been putting off changing my cable bill for days because I didn’t prioritize doing it, but I got a digital antenna that picks up more channels than what I paid cox cable for 13 of them. $27 for 13 channels, that I would say are “shitty” but I do appreciate local news. The irony is that there is a free digital channel just for local weather, that shitty cox cable doesn’t include in the minimum package.
I’m glad I write here now, because I’m going to bring my cable bill down under $100 a month, and still have the highest speed internet below business level, plus the shitty phone with no long distance as a local incoming phone that doesn’t use up “minutes” on the “pay per minute” plan I still use! While some people spend over $100 a month on a fucking phone, I pay about $20 every 2 months for a cell I only use when I have to.
I can make so little and be so content because I own my shitty vehicle, and just have to bust my knuckles up a little when it fucks up. I have an old shitty phone with no internet, that I don’t have to pay on monthly. I build my own computer systems about every 2 years, so I haven’t purchased a company branded computer system since the late 90’s. I don’t watch much television, so I have one, but it’s an old CRT probably less than 40″. Now I have a digital antennae hanging from the ceiling in an artistic way that picks up more channels than the bare minimum shit package from cox cable.
I can live off of less than $1000 a month, but I make a little more than that, no matter how much I try to keep it at a certain point. It’s like a natural habit for me to do things online that happen to promote my business and end up causing a little bit of a ‘surplus’ here and there over the year.
That’s why my next investment is going to be to accept mastercard as well as visa. I’m saying this as ccbill takes around $85 out of every payment until they hit $500 for the annual visa renewal required for them to process visa for my website.
Another irony. The clips4sale store sent me a 1099 for over $11,000. When subtracted from total deposits, that means the web sites made just over $5000. That is before expenses, which is why my income is still under $15,000. My expenses were still under $2000, which fucked me, which is why I want to pay the additional $500 this year to start with mastercard.
I didn’t do it originally because mastercard was such a smaller market. When I could not take visa, my membership went into the toilet. I only started clip stores because I could not afford the $750 way back to take visa when they started to require it. I should have, because by now, I would have made more, and the renewal would have been less painful when it is taken out of income rather than spent on it’s own.
I will have to spend the $500 for mastercard just to keep expenses up to what they were this year, because my cheap ass doesn’t like to spend money, even on the business. That’s why I have had to quit smoking and now I want to quit drinking because of how much money I could save, meaning how much less I have to make, meaning being even more fucking lazy!
I am such a hippy now. This flower child wants to do the least work possible, but I have issues when some of my “fun” is in promoting and creating the work. If you love what you do, you never work a day in your life. I guess that’s why I am addicted to creating super fat content.
With this new year, new energy, and new motivation, I have also finally created some video that I have wanted to create for a long time. I have been going back to doing the hardcore stuff. It’s not as easy with a fucked up hip, but I still manage it, and now that I have better oxygen intake and more energy, I am getting back to where I was in the Florida days. I know I’m not even close to being back there yet, and at my age, I’ll be lucky to get to %80 of what I was capable of when I started in the early 30’s.
I impressed myself with my last clip though. I haven’t released it yet, but instead of being 14 minutes long, I accidentally got up to nearly 25 minutes. I was just having so much fun fucking the piss out of Candy in front of a camera again that I got carried away, and it shows. That’s the whole point though.
I am finally getting back to who I was so long ago. It’s ironic that Candy always wanted this guy back, but it took even more than getting her back to bring him back. I have to give some credit to another woman that I had to hurt so badly, and I feel badly about it. If it weren’t for her though, Candy may never have realized what she was about to lose forever.
I guess one can take it for granted that Candy rarely, if ever, reads this blog. When I talk ‘about her’ in the way that I do, it’s not spiteful or with any need for vindication. I point it out because it is the truth. There is another woman who helped me greatly, and it did hurt me deeply to have to disappoint her.
Candy wants this version of me to come back, but that version existed with different rules, agendas, and inspirations. I am still trying to resolve how I can fully return to the mindset of wanting to be fully monogamous to Candy, after the change from that status seemed to start a chain reaction that almost destroyed the relationship on multiple occasions.
I am not saying that I need an open relationship to return to being the guy I was when Candy met me, but I can’t help but notice the connection from the patterns created in the past. Candy left the first time just months after I said I only wanted to be with her. That did something to me that hasn’t been “fixed”, and as I clear my head of the nicotine and alcohol, I am starting to see it more clearly.
I worry that the need for alcohol arose to begin with because I could never be happy with myself if I never got to the bottom of what I think I want or need out of life and relationships with women. I’m already kind of a “special case” because I am a “pornographer” and I tend to enroll whoever I am with into my work.
I say “whoever I am with” because there was the super sized woman I have already posted photos of here who I worked with when Candy was gone the last time.
The woman I met and had an affair with while Candy threatened to leave a 3rd time had a remarkably similar look to this woman, and she was actually available, and ready to go all out into a live in relationship when Candy was ready to eject.
One can imagine what this has created within my brain, and how I am still resolving this, even as I continue to try to better myself by quitting smoking and finally controlling drinking. All the things Candy really wanted, and I had to fuck her over in order to give those things to her. The irony is never ending in my life.
I don’t like to depend on “luck” as we call it, or think we know it. I live in Las Vegas, and I don’t really enjoy or feel compelled to gamble. It’s really ironic to move nearly 2000 miles from Louisiana to Las Vegas and not want to gamble.
I blame it on my cheapness, and my weak but solid knowledge of math, statistics, and odds. I make one assumption when I walk into one of those massive super store type casinos. The odds are in the house’s favor. Beyond that, I realize that any money lost would be a natural consequence for betting against that house.
The cheapskate trait that I have noticed most of my life comes in when I realize all the things I could do with money rather than gamble it away through some lottery or machine. I also make subtle calculations on how much money I would lose over time if I continued with a regular gambling habit that seemed small.
As cheap as I am, and as aware of odds as I am, I still smoked cigarettes for a few decades on and off. I had managed to quit before, for over a year, but something would eventually trigger me into going back to it. I’m only at day 17 and I’m acting like I have beat smoking already, but I am used to using patches and now there is the “emergency e-cig” too.
After just a few weeks, I’m already having dreams about smoking, but instead of fulfilling a fantasy of wanting to smoke in those dreams, they are more like nightmares, because of the feeling of disappointment after taking that first drag on the “dream cigarette”.
I have been in some kind of inner conflict for the longest about if luck is something that really exists, or if an old cliche’ is true about the more you work towards a goal, the more luck you happen to run into. I don’t test my luck in a casino because just like the psychics like to say “it doesn’t work that way.”
When I consider where I am right now, and how things are going, I am forced to remember what it was like when things were so different, and I was so different. My “growth” was hindered by the abuse of just one drug, alcohol, for months at a time, and I didn’t seem to grasp the seriousness of the situation I was placing myself in.
Now, I have only taken a baby step towards being somewhat “fixed” in quitting smoking. That is just one little habit in a long line of impulsive behavior I have to gain control over. In quitting smoking, I have given myself another level of confidence in what I can achieve when I put my mind to it.
The truth is, I was merely procrastinating from quitting smoking because the withdrawal is such a bitch. I would have done it long ago, as I have a few times before, but I just didn’t feel like the hassle of a few weeks in first world misery. Once I started using expressions like “first world” more often, I started to realize the arrogance of this concern over such a minor inconvenience.
I was only so “lucky” to get to smoke in the first place because I had the extra income to blow nearly $200 a month on the drug that would probably end up killing me eventually. It seems so simple, when you think of the assumed logical equation of smoking = death. Maybe people who smoke have a death wish. Maybe people who eat themselves up to nearly or over 500lbs also have a similar wish, but it has been modified to abuse a substance that provides life. Food.
I don’t usually post music videos, but I had to give credit to what I chose to listen to while I attempt to finish this blob post without hitting 5000 words, but then again, there is no way I can predict where my stream of consciousness writing will go.
I’m only 2 weeks into quitting smoking, but I already know I will be successful, because I have been reminded in what could be called a “nightmare” that I have to quit, “right now” apparently. There is some sense of synchronicity in this realization, because Candy experiences such breathing difficulty that she is on 2 different medications now.
I never smoked inside after Candy quit smoking, I started smoking outside before Candy ever quit actually. I made it a habit, because I always knew I would quit smoking, and I didn’t want my apartment and everything in it to be polluted with that horrible smell after I quit.
After I quit for just a week, i started to experience my true sense of smell again as well. Now I can taste better, and I can detect so many things in the air around me with a sense that had been dulled for years by this dreadful habit.
I can detect a female that is heavily “scented” from quite a distance. I can also detect when someone is smoking a cigarette in a very wide area. I can smell someone close to me and know if they are an alcoholic, or a smoker, or a pot smoker, or a crackhead.
With that realization alone, I am motivated to stay far away from inhaling burning matter on purpose, except for weed of course. I went to the trouble of getting a card at the DMV from the state of Nevada to get legal permission to smoke fucking weed. What a rigmarole.
I might be “lucky” to have quit smoking when I did, or in the long timeline, it’s already too late and the real tragedy is that I don’t even know it. Either way, I’ll take a higher quality of life while it is granted to this old, abused body. I am still trying to become more “enlightened” even though I realize that because of my age and my old ways, it will be much more difficult than a much younger version of me.
There was really no way to break through to younger me though, as it is, I didn’t become a full fledged alcoholic until after hitting 40, and I am already backtracking at 46. When I gain control over alcohol though, I won’t need to abstain, I will just use it sparingly when the desire arises to reconnect with this aggravating part of myself.
I have had access to more pharmaceuticals than I can pronounce, and I don’t abuse those at all. I know where that road goes, I chose to start using alcohol when I already knew how fucking serious it was and dangerous that particular compulsion can be to people like myself who have issues with impulse control and procrastination and anxiety and depression.
I lost so much while I chose to experiment with alcohol. Candy didn’t even know the full extent of her ability to emotionally disconnect and withdraw when exposed to a “typical alcoholic”. She had family issues going way back with alcoholism, and me being “that guy” brought her back to a family situation that she fled from as a mere child. There was no way she would tolerate that behavior from me.
I don’t think it’s too late for me though, I started reading “Be Here Now” and it gave me an insight and perception that I had not thought of or realized for a very long time. It was like reading that first Dianetics book and realizing that there were a lot of statements in there that I “knew already but never thought of in that way.”
I realized as I was reading Be Here Now by Ram Dass how similar his ability to recall things everyone already kind of knows in a different way is to L Ron Hubbard. The severe difference is that L Ron Hubbard doesn’t write from the perspective of someone who has done LSD.
Ram Dass also traveled India extensively and met with many gurus who made a profound impact on his perception of this reality. The influence of being on LSD a lot of the time could have impacted or biased that experience, but when you think about it, it would bias it in exactly the direction he was meant to go.
Be here now is all about figuring out the simple truth that you are exactly where you are supposed to be at any given time, given your desire to either find enlightenment or hide from it.
Everyone is on a path, and some people ride that path with blinders on, protecting them from seeing the potential branches that they could take which would change their lives for the better, forever.
I have used “drugs” to open my perception beyond what my bias and upbringing and limited education would allow. I have expanded the very experience of my reality by opening my mind up to alternate states of consciousness.
People who are all like “drugs, ew” are so “white and uptight” that it kills me. I can easily see why so many Caucasians will reject the race that they happened to be assigned at birth in favor of one that isn’t so fucking uptight!
I have spent a great deal of time in waiting rooms, getting the much needed and neglected medical attention for myself and “The Candy” simply because the opportunity was provided by this thing “Obamacare” that so many “fake conservatives” are all worked up over. I dread another “republican in name only” getting into office to destroy any chance I have to get medical care while at the same time creating a moral panic over “obscenity” to appeal to the religious right. 🙁
I have read a great deal of spiritual material in those waiting rooms, and I feel that I am very very far from total enlightenment, but even the very first step towards it is enthralling, exhilarating, and beautiful.
I have realized that no matter who I was, or have been, there is room in my heart for change, for the better.
I know that no matter what beliefs I have stubbornly held onto in the past, I can see the “big picture” just a little clearer now. I know that my dependence on any substance has been some kind of false idol that I worship and make sacrifice to in order to maintain my personal status quo of procrastination.
If the first step in solving a problem is admitting there is a problem. I passed that little nugget of self awareness months, if not years ago. I just needed a reason to grow emotionally. I needed to find hope and salvation in the potential of a future I really wanted in order to make myself prepared and available for that future to occur in this reality.
Now, as I take the baby step of quitting smoking, I realize that there is something in my distant future that requires and demands that little positive change in order to allow a chain of events to occur. I am thinking of time a little differently now. Instead of thinking of time on a straight line, I can see how the present intersects with the future due to consequence in ways that I could not see or did not want to see before.
The simple act of quitting smoking has caused me to begin to realize a whole set of new future realities, that never would have occurred to me without having had the experiences I have had, good and bad.
If I had not gone through so much bad shit, I would not have had the motivation or inspiration to continue to get better, and continue to grow spiritually. When I say grow spiritually, do not confuse that with the whole fucked up and contradictory phenomenon known as “religion”.
They are not the same, and can’t be, because current mainstream eastern religion inhibits personal growth by keeping women down and restricting sexual behavior. It will always seem back woods and “redneck”. Just look at any given argument against “same sex marriage”.
I have to laugh when I see what bigoted fools the highly reverent and religious are making of themselves to this current, slightly more enlightened generation.
Maybe I am so lucky, because while in one of my altered states of consciousness, I had this crazy idea of leaving everything I knew so well to travel west and land in allegedly fabulous Las Vegas. I followed some sense of what I know will happen in the future. I know that Louisiana will be one of the very last hold outs to legalizing marijuana.
I know that as voters turn down medical marijuana in the deep southern state of Florida, voters in Nevada approved medical marijuana over a decade ago, but the state of Nevada is pussyfooting around because they are so scared of being hassled over “gaming”. Dicks.
I think that I realize just how lucky I am, to have moved to where I did, just when I did, and follow a highly disciplined regimen of living on next to nothing for over 3 years. It sounds totally crazy, even to me, but I seem to know what’s coming, and I am planning every step of the way before I even realize what I am planning for.
Everything just happens as it is supposed to. I take limited risks in tiny micro social environments, and I create an outcome that I really want. I am faced with a challenge larger than I have ever attempted in all my life in the future. I have to make everything exactly the way I want it, in a way that is even more perfect than I have set it up in the present. The scary part is, I know I am capable of doing it, and it will be done.
I am just that lucky. 🙂
I had the chance to watch some videos and read some materials online about the law of attraction, or LOA as they are calling it on twitter. Candy would have gotten me interested in learning more about this, because she comes across a lot of spiritual and self help type stuff as she surfs the internet literally all day in between binge watching certain television shows.
I really like the philosophy and the idea behind the law of attraction, because it involves simple positive thinking and the ability to put one’s self in a mind set where they already possess what it is they want, so what they really want is drawn to them.
There was always a sense that I could accomplish anything I put my mind to. It started back when I was just hitting puberty. I thought to myself “I would like to have my own money.” So, I found out I would need a worker’s permit at the age of 15 or 16, I forget. I got one, and I proceeded to apply for jobs. I was living in such a small town that there were not that many businesses to choose from, and all the kids my age would be hitting all of them the same way I was, if they were so inclined to work as I was.
I got an offer with a local supermarket, but I would have to spend the first week or so working for a store in Metairie, which was a town about 15 minutes away on interstate. I already spent a lot of time out there, because that’s where the big malls were, and all the cooler places where younger people hung out. The supermarket where I was trying to work was within walking distance from my house, while this place required a half hour commute considering both ways.
They were fixing up a store because a regional manager was visiting, or inspecting, and I had to do all kinds of jobs there that were never going to come up again in the supermarket where I thought I would be working. I had to sweep a ceiling, paint a back warehouse, and there was all kinds of cleaning. These were the kinds of things that were only done once a year or even every other year, so while this was my initial experience, it was not going to be the usual experience.
I was so determined to make my own money, that I would try to hustle, and instead of dragging ass, I was enthusiastic and energetic. I was fucking young, so it was easy to be hyper back then. I think back and wish I took better care of myself so that I could have at least more than half of that kind of energy at 46. Now I have to quit smoking and start working out to even come close to having that kind of energy ever again.
When I started working at the local store, there wasn’t any need for the kind of clean up that took place at the other store. The manager at this store was keeping all that shit together so that it never got as bad as it did at the other place. The store in Laplace was a lot slower than the one in Metairie though. The store in Laplace was part of a strip mall, that was one of maybe 3 in the whole town, one of only 2 that I would care to hang out at when I lived there. The store in Metairie was linked on to the back of a big mall, so it got all kinds of traffic from people who wanted to go grocery shopping after mall shopping.
The big job at the store in Laplace was buggy pushing. Yeah, somebody has to bring all those buggies back into the store when they are taken out to the parking lot and emptied out. At least back in Laplace, there wasn’t a major percentage of the buggies leaving the parking lot and being pushed home, like they do here in Las Vegas. It is actually a small business opportunity in Vegas to have a truck and trailer and round up buggies all over the city, and get paid by the buggy to bring them back. Now, businesses have to go high tech and install one special wheel that is supposed to jam up if you roll that thing out of the parking lot. I have no idea how that works, but I should look it up to see how it is hacked.
I would spend nearly the entire shift out in that parking lot pushing those things back into the store. Over time, I started to imagine that I wasn’t even “in” my body, but ordering it to do things for me as I sat back comfortably in the back of my mind somewhere, listening to music I had memorized by listening to my records over and over.
I was impressive to the store manager, who would see so many other kids listlessly and slowly doing the least amount of work necessary. I would be pushing myself as I was pushing those buggies, trying to push just 1 more in the row than I did the day before regularly, or get to the point where I had to stop adding to a regular trip because I might lose control, or lose the end buggy if I had to stop suddenly.
Thinking back I can remember the technique that I would learn to control a big long row of buggies. There was a kind of trick to it. The fewer you had, the more control you had, because you had to shove left or right to stop in addition to steering. If you couldn’t put enough sideways pressure on the one you were pushing, the one at the front would slip right off the row, probably right into someone’s brand new car, and you don’t want that.
The main point about the buggies, and that first job, is that before I got the job, I didn’t know I could do “a job” at all. Even further, I wasn’t handed paint and brush at my own house to paint, but these guys handed it to me expecting a job that would impress a regional manager. I think it did.
I didn’t know I could spend 8 hours in the deep south summers pushing hundreds, or thousands of buggies back and forth in a day, and then turn around and be an energetic kid running all over town after. I didn’t realize how quickly I could save up money to purchase that first car. When I got the job, and started the job, I didn’t think getting my own car was even a possibility, but naturally it would be, because as long as I kept the job, I would accumulate more money. I was a kid, it wasn’t like I was paying rent.
After just a few months of working at this place, I had enough money saved up to buy a used car, and that led me to see another goal realized that I didn’t think was possible while I achieved the earlier goal of getting and keeping a job to begin with. Of course, getting that car would prove to show me what my real agenda was all along, independence.
Buying a first car made such a big difference in the sheer amount of time that I would spend at my childhood home. I would basically be just sleeping there, and by the time I was 17, I could have just quit high school, shifted over to full time at my supermarket job, and got my own apartment. That would have gotten me into way too much trouble. It’s bad enough the way things turned out after getting that car.
When I say it’s bad enough the way things turned out, I mean that with that independence, and that confidence, I started visiting bars at 17 before I was even old enough to be drinking. I would meet up with a woman in her mid 20’s, and she would end up being my first ex wife, because I was impulsive enough to get married to the first woman who put out on a regular basis.
So many things turned out how I expected them, as long as I set small goals, and checked them off one at a time. If I really wanted to get away from my parent’s house, I had to first get a job for income, then get a car for transportation. Once those 2 things were done, I just had to wait until I graduated high school to figure out what I wanted to do next.
I had an additional year of high school, not because I failed, but because I was kicked out right at the end of the fucking year in my junior year. So, I had to do that year all over again, after having a recurring dream of exactly that happening. A lot of kids would have said “fuck it” right then and there, but my mother used to taunt me about how I would never finish high school, so a part of me did the extra year just to prove her wrong. Now I know where my passive aggressive tendencies come from! Thanks mom!
You know, the biggest fantasy I would have had at that time besides having a car, would have been getting laid. While in my early 20’s, with a car, a job, and money in the bank, I didn’t realize how easy getting laid could be, even before the internet. I had to go through some pretty hard lessons and my first ex wife before I understood the dynamics of dating and desperation.
I believe that the only way my story of coming of age is relevant to the law of attraction is in the way that I believed I would accomplish things, and I did. Even when I was young and dumb in my teens, before being young and just as dumb in my 20’s, I still set out to accomplish things one at a time until reaching some end goal. It is something that has become so regular and easy in my life that I sometimes take it for granted. There have been times I have almost gone right off the cliff because of my confidence that the brakes would stop the car in time.
Even now, I have just achieved the latest goal, of getting a medical marijuana card. To people in California, it’s no big deal, because it’s under $100 and you can get it in the back room of a dispensary. Here in Nevada, there is a shitload of stuff you have to be put through before getting this little token.
I was here in Nevada for almost 3 years before getting that card, but just like the process of getting my first car or first regular piece of ass when I was younger, there were steps that had to be completed before hitting the goal. I had to wait on obamacare to kick in so I could get my first hip x-ray. Then, I had to take the radiologist report to some strip mall doctor’s office and give them the routine about how I am too young for hip replacement, but obviously need one. Then, I had to shell out nearly $300, and that is WITH A DISCOUNT because I had brought in actual medical records. Then, I had to wait nearly 2 months for that shit to come in the mail after waiting 3 hours for the DMV to take my fucking photo.
So, just getting that little card took a few steps, none of which were convenient or ‘fun’. If obamacare had started just one year earlier, I would have gotten the card a year earlier, because I made sure to move to a state with medical marijuana BEFORE obamacare kicked in. Before that, I made sure to regulate my income so that I know I would be covered under medicaid, and I could still manage to live on a %133 of poverty level income. So, the actual entire process of getting that card started with me living in Louisiana, making a certain amount for a full year before obamacare even kicked in so I would know I could live on that much, and still move my ass 2000 miles across the country to a state less stuck in the past who has the compassion to allow people to use a fucking plant to alleviate great amounts of physical pain.
To me, the southern states have always seemed masochistic and sadist for turning their noses up at medical marijuana. Further, it is ironic to me that the “river parishes” where I grew up, is also known as “cancer alley” because of all the chemical plants along the Mississippi river right there. Of course when people get cancer that was caused by that fucking pollution, the politicians would say “fuck you, you don’t need that marijuana shit for your cancer.” My mother died of fucking ass cancer in that shit hole state, so naturally, I have a sense of resentment for Louisiana, and every other southern state that continues to force it’s residents to suffer because they are bible thumping fuck-tards from the distant past who can’t get their heads out of their fucking asses to save their fucking stupid, useless lives…
Wow, I got a little negative there. I have always known about the connection that marijuana has to health and well being, decades before all this new research has finally been released, after being kept hidden by corrupt politicians and the corporations who bribed them to begin with.
Every time a southern state says “NO” to medical marijuana, I am reminded of why I had to get the fuck out of there, and why I don’t enjoy giving that place credit for my growing up because I hate it, and the entire southern fucked up region so much. Recently, Florida said NO to medical marijuana, and it’s ironic that with all those suffering old people down there, they are so desperate to keep the status quo of pill addiction and abuse…
Wow, I just got way off the subject there! Maybe not entirely though. I look at the law of attraction as if we are all children, experiencing everything for the very first time, every day of our lives. Just because we grow up, or get old, doesn’t mean we have seen everything and done everything there is to do, if you want to do it.
Even though I am 46 now, I can still relate to being a teenager who is trying to work out how to get that first car when I work out the massive undertaking of moving 2000 miles to get out of bum fuck egypt and into a place that is more progressive and modern politically. When I was young, I thought I wanted to move from Louisiana to Florida. Talk about getting out of the toilet only to end up in the sewer!
Florida would have been nearly *worse* than Louisiana! Just talk to “Florida Man” about that one! Also, I have already mentioned that those assholes recently voted down medical marijuana while Nevada voted it in over a decade ago but just pussyfooted around and cock blocked it up until NOW. 🙂 Nevada is still cock blocking medical marijuana, and I might just become more of an activist to point it out, since they are literally trying to make me suffer by not giving me access to my state approved medication!
Alright, I have wondered so very far from my original subject, and I have shit to do, but I guess I am saying that no matter what the undertaking, or how difficult you think it would be, or how impossible it might seem, it is doable, possible, and if you really want it, inevitable. The law of attraction can’t be taken for granted to the point where you just sit back and think about something all day expecting it to happen for you. The law of attraction gives people the motivation and inspiration to complete those small goals on the way to the larger one, even when that large goal seems unattainable. Nothing is impossible. Believe in your dreams.