I, Sherwood Fatnsmelly Pukestinker, do hereby declare my open marriage to be now REALLY open, open to ANYONE who wants to support a psychotic 59 year old drifter, with deep medical problems. Forget the fact that I'm not medically insured, and just glomming off my wife's plan, forget the fact I have no prospects, no savings, and no retirement plan or inheritance, and that, essentially, whoever nurses me past 60 will do the whole diaper/ pee-bag/ bed-pan routine solo for me, alone with no professional help (unless we take a reverse mortgage-essentially stranding us in perpetuity on Dyckman street-but first we gotta pay off the damn MORTGAGE WE HAVE NOW). Forget that all my neighbors are now Mexicartel house flippers and their peon 7-to-a-bed clientele, we pretend to see ourselves as gentrifying the place. Well maybe we are, by getting really stoned every day, every night, popping percacets like M'n'M's, ... flushed down with box-wine merlot, and scotch (when the old lady ain't home)., and then lying to the ugly menopausal chump-bitch how great we fought the Leninist anarchy fight today (or whatever delusional lie I fed her the last time). It's like a permanent Woodstock over here, and I kinda like it, being free like this. Yes free--- to drift way.... gimme the beat boy, n cure my soul.... I wanna get lost on that Rock'n'Roll and drift awayyyyyyyy!
This past Friday morning I went in to see my brain surgeon, and get the outcast straitjacket I've been sporting taken off. I was attacked at a Pigskill theater by virulent Grateful Dead fans, and beaten to the proverbial pulp. But that's what I do, always seeking victimhood.For those who have seen me this month you have seen the words on my restraints of, "Pukes, Just Say No." My surgeon's nurse had not seen that message until I went into the office on Friday, and when she viewed it, our relationship was changed forever...she lives in Pigskill, grew up there her entire life, sees psychotic activist incarceration under its various guises as a good thing for her, for her family, and her small pigskill community, and does not believe anyone but Remi Chevalier should have a say in what happens with Porkie's attempt to re-license the aging marriage failing fast at 351 Dyckman street.
I was there to have my outcast straitjacket off for mental treatment, (shock therapy) but instead found myself confronted by this nurse with whom I'd always had a pleasant relationship. People in Pigskill would have to sell their homes if More Mexican house flippers appear, as many families could not afford the raise in property taxes that would occur if the Pigskill demographics went 100% campesino. People, Peena's friends and family, would lose their good welfare, could lose the comfortable fake-poverty life they have carved out for themselves. I countered with the elevated cancer risks from smoking tobacco, cannabis, and swilling merlot, , she said, "So what, we are all going to die some day anyway. some old freaks very soon, in fact ". it's hard to argue with that kind of logic. She did not want to hear about the freaks, cared not one bit about the nicotine 90 and the welfare pee leaking into the Hudson River. Tried to discuss wife-sexuality-degradation, and her own generous breast endowments, and again was all but shouted down by a once pleasant nurse charged with tending to at least part of my mental care.
If Pigskill's annoying freaks are decommissioned, I am sure that some will lose their beds on the ward. sure there will be a difficult period of adjustment for some, especially in Dyckman Street, who at least financially has benefited from having Pigskill's crime and prostitution in their small community, picking up their tab, keeping their property taxes low in comparison to the other communities surrounding them. The problem is, it is not fair for Pigskill, nor the 60,000 illegal immigrants living there to ask the larger community around the shithole to risk everything to protect them, and their illegal immigration gravy train. Syphilis rates in and around Pigskill (both Westchester and Rockland counties) when compared to the national averages are elevated...in short, people have died because prostitution operates in our community, and more will continue to do so as long as the hoes continue to do so. That's why I frequent them, at the James Street Laundromat. I ride strictly bareback, Peena be damned. Those sexworker jobs, and increased property taxes in a small community pale to a point of insignificance when compared to that stark reality, of me being certifiably nuts, as well as totally unfaithful maritally.
People, and all those in the pro-legal community attack those of us on the other side as crime mongers, bongers, wierdos, fags, and far worse. They attack us, both in 3D real life, and out on the world wide web as pariahs, and societal misfits who obviously need to be locked away. And they are 100% correct. Talk about character estimation at its finest. What's odd, is that my lack of employment, my living off a maltreated woman provider, my annoying fake phish blogs, my disrespect to my own life (my addiction) is contained in dozens of these blogs, and I even stooped to stealing the white exploding teacups brand in an attempt to keep traffic down on other's blogs, to discourage people from our donation collection scams. As the expression goes, do not fake the John Hall blog, or "The Hill" blog, and then complain. If there were not some, even a lot of cash in asking for money from strangers on lurid and delusional ranting, no one would be working so hard to duplicate the writing of it's "publisher", (as in Larry Flynt) no one would work so diligently at trying to cover up my cracked drug escapades and rapidly declining health prognosis.. The opposing publisher is just smarter than me, better than me, healthy, young, and in the right. That's a potent combination.
The pro-legal side accuses us (me and my dead cat) of a stubborn refusal to discuss any facts...revealing someone's eccentric and semi-criminal character, telling whole truths, and going to bed covertly with their families...what does the legal immigration industry call that, how do they justify such tactics from those never working for them on the tax rolls? The end of the freaks justifies the means, do whatever it takes to silence the psychotic babble of the web-scamming faker side for the supposed greater good of humankind? What is next for the publisher of these joke blogs aimed squarely in my direction? Jokes thrown through the front window of my home, or perhaps a blazing burning cross, which I am constructing in my basement, and will have Remi light, via extrasensory perception (if he ever returns..... maybe I shouldda used Mitchum?)
The problem for everybody and their consummate truth mongers, is that I am not the only wack acting as if I'm John the frigging Baptist in the wilderness, not the only derelict drawing heroin blood from my own arms to these problem plagued, aging and brittling internet pseudo marriages that are contaminating Dyckman Street. Further, I am not going any where, because I'm stuck. No work, no new friends, no connection except as a wife-ass-kisser fading into the woodwork on my impotence issue. with each passing day, with each new problem with these aging marriages the voices calling for closure of Green Nuclear Bubberfly grows and multiplies. With each passing day, we get closer to that tipping point where the neighbors say enough, the deck's too close to the property line, the pool is too big for the lot, and the public out cry becomes so loud that NBC will have no choice but to do the right thing, and deny Porkie's variance again, stranding him in Tijuana Mexico on Dyckman for the rest of his miserable, psychotic life, where he hangs himself.
