Posts tagged medical marijuana card
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…
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.
you know, i kind of like this style of not capitalizing, but that was one way when people could tell when i was intoxicated. at this point, i am getting a thrill out of writing more while not intoxicated, so without that little hint, it should still be obvious if i am drunk or not, or if i might be just a tiny bit high.
i re-read the prior post, and i could go back and clean it up a bit, but i want to leave it, because i did announce that i was somewhat intoxicated, although not nearly to the degree that i have been in the past during my worst online behavior ever.
there has been some talk about an ebook that came out recently, written by a friend of candy’s, and this work was not very appreciated at all by so many people. at the same time, so many people provided negative feedback. when i see something like that, i am reminded of just how irrelevant my own writing can be, and how i am probably just ‘talking to myself’ more than expressing anything of any value or interest.
i realize that there are times when i go off on some tangent and i really try to get deep into something, but some of my own descriptions seem somewhat disconnected and incoherent at times. that is probably more related to practice than if i am intoxicated on alcohol.
i went into that forum i talked about before with an agenda. the main agenda was to just “make new friends and meet new people”. this seems harmless enough, but now i realize that the typical agenda of the individual in that forum is not going to be quite that simple. i forget that the “making friends” part is just “part one” in the advanced long term agenda.
i was fighting a losing battle to assume that my honestly simple agenda would hold much interest for those who would focus, rightfully, on those individuals who had an agenda that came somewhere close to their own. when i talk about “just friends”, that pretty much eliminates us from the swingers, the voyeurs, the unicorn hunters, and most importantly, the “fat herder”.
i briefly mentioned this “ptsd episode” where “drunk me” decided to “go off” in some forum because i felt that people hadn’t paid enough attention to me or something. i had been somewhat offended by the tendency for one person who ran the group to hit me with information about a group get together in response to my initial post, where i said in the last paragraph that candy was not into that stuff.
i felt disregarded, a little disrespected, and somewhat offended by that exchange. as time went on, that sense of being offended and blown off increased as there was literally no other response to anything i would post in that thread or any other thread i attempted to participate in.
now, if i had creeped people out already with my participation, or anything i had said, it still didn’t stop someone from blindly pursuing an agenda even though i stated in my post that we were not candidates for that agenda. this kind of social media cold calling is always very unattractive, because it’s going to draw in the kind of guys who are not so open and up front about wanting to “make new friends”, because they are looking for easy prey for one of many possible agendas.
it was really unfair for me to try to communicate with the most social acting person in that and literally hundreds of other forums, because i should have realized that she too was casting a large net, but for something that i would have no interest in if it involved having sex in front of people that we don’t know.
i should have known better that this person would really like to “get to know new people” as she seemed to try so hard to do with every other person in the forum. she was casting this net out there, reeling in as many people as she could herself, but as she said it was about friendship, it really wasn’t, and the vague and ambiguous nature of “he likes to watch” wasn’t very informative as to her likes and dislikes as an intellectual friend.
maybe a part of me was so used to being rejected sexually as a single male, that now, i am really insulted when i am rejected for simple friendship that doesn’t involve eventually fucking someone or watching them get fucked by someone else, or letting them fuck my old lady, or whatever.
i am really grateful for that whole experience, even if it made me “look bad” in the eyes of all those people who have an agenda that doesn’t match mine or candy’s anyway. maybe, just maybe, no matter how bad i get online, there are people out there who wanted to say the same things, but just didn’t want to deal with the burden of being a social media outcast.
candy should be ashamed or at least embarrassed by some of my behavior online, but she’s “used to it” now. she knows that as i go around making a fool of myself occasionally, that i am only scaring off the vultures and the buzzards that don’t want true friendship as much as they seem to want to find new sex partners gathered around the corpse they consume.
that is a horrible and morbid association, but that’s how i view the whole alleged size acceptance community at this point. people love to use that phrase, size acceptance, while they hold these gatherings where socialization comes at a price at the door, and the smaller bbws can stare and gawk at the ssbbws in much the same way everybody else in society does. i have heard, and fortunately not experienced, that this type of behavior is not only tolerated at some past events, but encouraged for amusement and entertainment.
that is a harsh allegation, but i have heard some pretty low down stuff about the ‘vegas bbw bash’ before it changed management and became ‘something else’. in the last year before the management changed, i somehow stumbled upon facebook posts by people who left early for some reason or another. luckily for them, all was not lost because the new group was forming as the old group was dying. it’s just a kind of changing of the guard, and for all i know, it may be better, but candy doesn’t want to submit herself to the mere possibility that she could end up being the entertainment when things might fall apart.
it doesn’t help matters that there has not really been any kind of close friendships online with the kind of people who shell out hundreds of dollars to “meet new people” at these events.
i am really cheap, so not only is it not really affordable to begin with, i simply can’t allow myself to invest without some kind of return on investment. that would provide me with an agenda as i paid hundreds of dollars, and the chance for real disappointment if i didn’t get exactly what i wanted.
that’s why i can just simply elect not to participate, for the comfort of everyone else involved, and because candy has no desire to walk into a room full of complete strangers, and watch the cliques form and she’s stuck with the online asshole that is me.
now, there are gatherings that are free to attend, and there are gatherings that have a small cost at the door per person, much more manageable, and without building up much expectation. the only problem with those gatherings is shared with the larger gatherings. there is a lack of interest to get to know people before or unless they actually attend one of these things first.
i have some fucked up perception at times, but this reminds me of a guy who doesn’t want to waste any time having to get to know a woman online before hooking up first. i am sure the ladies of a more feminist persuasion would love that argument.
much the same way, candy enjoys the online attention at times for being a ssbbw celebrity of sorts, but at the same time, it would be awkward and uncomfortable for her to enter a situation where the only attention she receives is from guys who wish they could fuck her, or women who pity her and want to give her advice to help her change because they used to be like her.
we went to hang out in a hotel room while an event was going on because candy wanted to hang out with just one person who was there for a bit. after candy got up to go to the bathroom, and her friend was off for a few minutes doing something, a woman walked up to candy and started sincerely talking to her about how she used to suffer like candy, and how horrible it was, and how much she worked to correct it.
i realize there is a natural instinct to be nice and helpful, but candy has had to remind me on many occasions about how offensive unsolicited advice can be, and this situation was not only uncomfortable for candy, but depressing, and further inspiration not to want to hang out with a bunch of fat people just because she is fat.
there are events in the past that candy has attended, but only because she was good friends with the organizer, so she got to hang out with the “cool kids” and she was protected from any possibility of being made a spectacle or being shunned for being super sized. it kind of helps when the group organizer is super morbidly obese herself, so candy doesn’t feel like the only one.
i know i was unfair in that group, i tried to contribute, but probably appeared kind of manic like i just wouldn’t shut up. this is after repeated complaints about how quiet members are. once i try to make conversation, every comment is followed by an empty box, until i come back and think of something new.
if i am talking to myself anyway, why the fuck should i be there? i could be typing here, and if i do that every day, this shit will eventually pay off in some way. this is the kind of agenda i should get behind.
that’s probably why i got impatient with myself and with the members of that tiny little insignificant group, and allowed myself to truly get nasty with people out of some need to burn out rather than fade away.
i did try to attend 2 different events on my own, to scout the waters of las vegas bbw interaction. the first event was called a “bbw take over” at some local bar. the bar was split into two main sections, and one was inhabited by people who obviously had nothing to do with the bbw thing. it was obvious in no time which section was designated for the bbw event, because there was nothing but rap music going, and a few women that seemed a little larger than the ones on the other side.
i mention rap music as it relates to bbw events, and have to take a time out for this little complaint. i might occasionally like to hear some house, or techno, like turning it into a mini rave for just a few minutes, but at this event, it was rap and only rap music. occasionally there was something popular in the dance category, but mostly, there were what sounded like independent rap artists that made references to “big women” repeatedly, usually making graphic sexual comparisons in the process.
there was a “booty meat” competition. sometimes i realize the very real handicap in being caucasian and having a preference for big butt white women. i can’t get away with telling a woman i like her big booty. black women will usually show off a big booty in a profile rather than cutting off all photos at the neck or maybe waist. that’s where i come up with a phrase i like to use, “white and uptight“. i totally understand how some people can have a racial preference other than their own when they just happen to be white.
i would not have really noticed that i was the only white guy there until i overheard one woman saying as she walked out “that’s the white guy“. it’s like somebody had a running bet on if any white guys would show up at all, and if so, how many. that wasn’t uncomfortable or anything!
that is connected to the second thing i showed up at. i always thought it would be cool to go to a fat strip club, or a strip club that had a fat/bbw night. there was this thing that a woman i have seen on a few websites was doing, and i went. i walked in, hung out at the bar, and this guy comes up to me saying “we’re the only white guys here!” ok, that was fucking uncomfortable. again, i hadn’t noticed it myself and it was not a thought that had jumped into my head, until this jabroni said it.
i was not really impressed by the dancers, except for one, julia sands. she is teeny tiny in my realm of interest on a physical or sexual level, but she was honestly the most talented woman there. most of the others just kind of walked around on stage with their pendulous breasts swinging, and it just wasn’t really attractive to me at all.
after that experience, i realize i would rather watch some of those women in pre-recorded content than ever see them attempt “stripping”. i am sorry for being so negative, but they were just not very good at dancing, the ones i let myself actually look at here and there. the one cutest girl there danced when i was outside getting high with the “only other white guy”, and that is what caused the cops to show up and harass some black guys later. cops are so freaking racist, and weed being prohibited is fucking racist, where is the naacp on that shit?
at the bbw take over event, the only person in that entire place that attempted to socialize with me was a skinny woman who pulled me onto the dance floor, and i think she was a prostitute. i managed to overhear the “white guy” comment because i was outside on the phone with candy, and a couple were leaving and walked close enough for me to hear that. it felt kind of racist to tell you the truth, but because of ‘white privilege’ i’m not supposed to feel discriminated against.
at the bbw strip club thing, i was still looking for a good weed connection, and one chance encounter at that place was vital for that to happen, but it was a guy i already knew from years before, who only came in to see one model for a private lap dance and then get the hell out of there.
i am still so grateful to him for that connection, because the woman organizing the event offered to sell me weed right there, but never followed through with it. she just wanted me to go to the atm to have money to tip dancers, and i wasn’t going to, because i was really uncomfortable with the whole strip club dynamic.
i had been to a strip club over a decade before, with a guy i worked with, because his girlfriend worked there. yeah, i was hanging with pretty interesting people long before the internet came along. it was only once, and nobody there hustled me for dances or anything, so i didn’t get the full experience.
at the strip club, the only people who talked to me were the guy i already knew, and the “only other white guy“, who talked about selling weed, but he never contacted me when i wrote to the email address he gave me. then there were the dancers, and again, i was just too intimidated and depressed by the over all energy of that environment that i could not bring myself to participate. i felt weird, like it would be deceptive to candy to let someone just dance for me, even though it might have helped to get a future modeling collaboration with candy if i had at least tried to tip and show some interest.
i felt weird and awkward, as if tipping someone would lead to an assumption that i was creepy or predatory. i never fully understood the whole strip club thing, and it probably has a lot to do with the fact that i have always chosen to socialize with women on a much more interpersonal and intellectual level. this tip for a show mentality felt deviant and primal to me. that’s ironic coming from a pornographer. being a producer of pornography, i control my environment, and i have decades of experience with the modeling dynamic as a photographer. the stripper and customer exchange feels too much like prostitution to me, which i believe should be legal, but i would never participate in it.
i had an agenda in going to those places, to “make new friends and meet new people”, and maybe see if anybody wanted to sell some weed. it turned out that the only person of any help to me at that time was one guy i *already knew* and candy begged him for the weed hook up via email days or weeks after that event. actually, probably the day after. thank god that happened. just like a game of grand theft auto, i had to hang out at a strip club to get my weed connection before i had the medical marijuana card. it took eight months to get that connection. yes, again, eight fucking months.
i really am grateful to that guy, and i should try to thank him online at some point, but it was no big deal to him, and he gets plenty of action to the point where he probably forgot even helping us out so much. 🙂
about the strippers that asked me if i wanted a lap dance, i was way too uncomfortable for that. even after 2 beers, a hard limit while having to drive, i was too inhibited to go for a “lap dance”. i did get to talk to julia sands, and again, while i have no fixation on her sexually, i admire her work ethic and her talent, and it would be awesome to get to work with her at some point. candy would probably be star struck and very uncomfortable though, so that may never happen unless candy goes for it, not me. 🙂
so, i was really aggravated about the woman at the strip club telling me she could hook me up with weed when she had no intention of it. maybe the cops showing up stopped it from happening, but it’s not like she ever followed up on it later. candy tells me she is probably a pill head who didn’t remember talking to me later in the same evening.
since i mentioned the naacp way back in this post, and something i believe they should look into, i should also mention how my main gripe with any attempt at social dependent size acceptance is in the group naafa. the national association for the advancement of fat acceptance. that group was created in an effort to raise awareness of size discrimination, but they quickly became more obsessed with growing membership and having “bashes” rather than doing anything having to do with raising awareness outside of the “pay to play” social group.
that shit is fucking classism. i know it’s easy for me to cry injustice in classism because i happen to be living in a controlled state of poverty. i don’t freak out about being “poor” because I am “poor on purpose” in order to be totally legally eligible for medicaid. i have done that as part of an experiment to see just how shitty medicaid is, and how many medical professionals attempt to fuck you up the ass when you have medicaid. that exercise in bureaucracy in and of itself took about three years. the first year was the year before obamacare even started, just seeing if i could regulate income at that level and actually live comfortably doing so. it turns out, in the third year, yes i can. 🙂
while i mention my distaste in the way that size acceptance was eventually used as a for profit social platform, it doesn’t mean i am against it because i can’t afford it. if i really, really wanted to participate in that stuff, i would make sure it happened. it took almost $300 just to get my medical marijuana card, so while i live in this regulated state of poverty, i was still able to achieve that easily. the point is, that investment is going to have a much higher return in personal pleasure and joy than attending a social event with a bunch of people i don’t know that i could not go to unless i paid hundreds to get in, or even nearly a hundred for both of us.
i watched as naafa basically disintegrated after the million pound march, where speaker carnie wilson would later end up being a living commercial for lap band, and convince countless women to endure this surgical experiment. one of those women was known by candy long before she ever met me, and that woman never made it out of the hospital alive.
now carnie wilson is probably having her third weight loss surgical procedure, because as long as it’s a celebrity, it’s not insane to keep doing the same thing expecting different results. it works so well i did it three times! what a fuck head.
i guess the name of this post, “agendas” was appropriate. i have given so much information already, and i feel like i could type for another two hours. this little exercise was therapeutic, because it prevented me from “day drinking”.
i will get so much more done and feel so much better to have gotten all of this out. this is obviously the proper medium for me to take out my frustrations with the state of affairs in everything having to do with fat socialization at this point in our history, comparing it to the past, and other failed experiments in the same vein.
now i am free from writing in inappropriate areas as well. this one little, or not so little post has given me insight into myself, my behavior, and my reasoning and perception of the world that exists around me that i only occasionally have to enter into.