WITHDRAWALS OF THE MISUNDERSTOOD PART 1

Hey Spacedog here….

It’s been a while. There was not going to originally be a post until next week but I just decided yesterday that enough was enough. What is it that I am coming off of you ask?

Well first off, my absence from here is mostly pandemic related. Out of all the billions of individuals in the world, I am probably in the top 1% of people with insane paranoid reactions. Eventually though I kinda grew to like it. I got to wear a mask so no one would know who I was. I didn’t have to worry if suddenly after 8 years of grand mal seizures today would be the day and I’d go straight into the Delaware River on my way to my doctor’s office. And I didn’t have to have any house guests! I became the Maybelline Girl. Maybe she’s born with it maybe it’s Maybelline! I was born for this.

Anyway….

So I’ve got to say I have been quite a bit off about one thing I have been telling people recently. My sobriety date from alcohol…. I really thought I drank this year. Nope the receipts clearly show November 17, 2019. Not that the difference between that and February 1st really matters much to me. All I know is the last 3 times I drank were rum, beer, and sparkling seltzer in that order.  The rum tasted stale so I ended up dumping 4 ozs of a 14 oz bottle. The beer I ended up having to just toss after 5 of 12 because frankly it made me feel beyond shitty. As for the sparkling seltzer it was surprisingly good but actually still made me feel awful afterwards. Most of these manifestations I describe above were physical.

I sorta just quit. I did not need any bells and whistles or pats on the back. I kinda just did it on my own and it was mine and mine alone. No one could brag about how wonderful of a person they were to get me sober (while doing meth on the side, thanks AA Sponsor #6) or how they were so vital to my recovery (Here looking at you Sponsor #4, enjoy the oxys). Frankly I just did not care anymore. I guess I’m at day 275 or 276 or something for those who are counting. Frankly I’m not…..

So what is it I am coming off of right now? It’s nothing sexy or dangerous like meth or heroin or molly or crack or coke. Just some plain old cigarettes and coffee.

I can honestly say I feel entirely better than I thought I would at this point. I am a master at coming off of drugs, but sadly I am a bit rusty. I feel between all the antidepressants, heroin (several times), alcohol, and mood stabilizers I have been in this moment at least 30 different occasions before.

This occasion is really mild. The heroin was the worst by far but only when I was snorting it. I honestly only even got minor withdrawal no matter how much I shot. Alcohol I had about 2 Leaving Las Vegas spells in my 20s, but not really any withdrawal other than that.

The anti-depressants quite honestly to me were the biggest joke as well as the hardest legal drugs I have ever had to come off of. Depakote, lithium, effexor, paxil, prozac, seroquil, serzone. A laundry list of harm to me. Suicidal, emotionless, too much fake joy, sexless, mania, and winner winner chicken dinner homicidal respectively.

I seriously called poison control when it came to the Serzone. I kept thinking of what kind of knives my neighbors had and what it would be like to use them. And my nails look like I applied a bright coat of dark pink nail polish.  P Control literally had no idea how to help me with what was going on. I called my friend Seth on the phone a few minutes later and he informed me he was on that garbage and to have some milk. A minute later my nails returned to normal, my thoughts came back shortly after.

Honestly coffee was going to be a battle for next week to give up but as I settled in on my couch at home I smelled the faint scent of flowers. It was mostly roses but maybe some lavender or lilac. I usually get this when my spirit guide is nearby. Anyway so I figured I’d just go to bed. At 6pm.

Then woke up at 130 and started writing this blog. I think I wholeheartedly can say that 1:30AM is a shitty ass time to wake up. I suppose this would be the absolute perfect time to wake up if I were say a rapist. Boom sober, boom bar, boom victim and whatever else rapey people do in between. Spray themselves down with the most vile of scents. I’m sure there are nice smelling rapists but frankly none of my rapists were Glade Scent Stories inspired. Obscure reference I know…. glade scent stories were this little thing that looked like a CD Walkman and you put the CD in and it would through a few scents per CD.

Physically though I’m feeling pretty good all things considered. I was highly disappointed that I was not able to pick out any online courses last evening but if my path is less than 24 hours off I really shouldn’t let myself worry too much. I really am not missing the cigarettes a whole lot especially without that stupid nicotine patch making my arm itch like crazy.

Coffee…. well I’ve just been trying to find any and all negative information. All I know is it comes from a plant and well I am inching oh so close to the Carnivore Diet or something similar. I still haven’t felt right since I juiced kale, zucchini, brocolli and lime. It tasted terrible. Rape victim of the jolly Green Giant terrible. Threw up 30 minutes later and passed out for 2.5 hours after.

So coffee….wheeeeee….. I probably should have tapered off down to 1 cup a day before I quit but I’m always up for a bigger challenge and a better suffering at this point.  I’ve been drinking 3-5 cups a day for a few weeks. All this self imposed lockdown, this suffering, this absence of bliss will pay off in spades one day I tell myself.

I just don’t want to be half sober. I feel all of these people out there in Alcoholics Anonymous and all these other recovery programs are the biggest bunch of hypocrites on the planet. They are following around a plan based on 80 years of complete horseshit and pseudoscience. I guess I get it though. Most people are too weak and broken to get better on their own. They never seek their answers within and only rely on outside counsel. They drink coffee like fish, chain smoke like the marlboro man, and eat some of the worst cookies on the planet. Like seriously maybe I hadn’t been to a meeting in a while, but Chips Ahoy?

I see most of these people now for what they truly are. A bunch of dry drunks going around who like to preach to others because it gives them a sense of self importance. My way or the highway they say.

The absolute funniest thing about these people is they will engage you in normal conversation until you mention that you are not in AA. It’s like I single-handedly broke the matrix somehow. Seriously far more people get sober when not in this archaic broken program. The effectiveness is probably somewhere between aspirin between the knees and self baptism in your favorite local polluted body of water. I guess I shouldn’t knock anyone though it’s just frustrating.

I was put on this Earth to help others and sometimes I think the only way I am going to be able to do it is lie my teeth off. Sure I can lie my teeth off if I meet you somewhere by random chance….. like if I needed to come up with a BS story for my Grubhub driver or a grocery store clerk. When it comes to write though I don’t have that luxury. It’s just not in my blood. Brutal honesty or no writing. Only two options here.

But the moral of the story is it is only day 2 and day 1. cigarettes and coffee. It would be nice to be able to honestly just listen in to an AA meeting but I know I am not welcome at any. Well of course I am just not one meeting in particular I went to drunk because my wonderful sponsor #3 thought that Tori Amos concerts were going to somehow involve me shooting meth and going to circuit parties.

man I pick the winners! I seriously hope I don’t pick a husband as poorly one day as these sponsors. My award-winning sponsor picking is literally on par with Larry King and his fantastic wife picking. (I have no idea who any of his wives are, but I just assume if that many people would willing marry someone he either has a giant penis or a giant bank account) .

Gotta pick courses now will post tomorrow if I am not dead already.

By Spacedog

No One Care What The Hell You Had For Lunch.

Social Media has been a crucial tool since its creation that has Contributed to the Ever Growing Societies’s  Egotistical Idiocy. Tech has/had unlimited potential, But People became Addicted to Social Media and its False Sense of Importance. People actually think ANYONE gives a flying fuck what They had for Lunch?! Yet People Post Pictures of Their Lunch likes its the most Awe Inspiring Event of Their fucking Lives.

The One Aspect in the Social Media’s Dumbing Down of America that’s Never Mentioned is the Personal “Status Updates” that People love to Use like there’s No Tomorrow (Facebook being the Number one Offender). You know what I’m talking about it’s those Pre Written Idle Bullshit like “Linda is Loving Life”, “Matt is at Starbucks”, or “Phil changed His Relationship Status to It’s Complicated.” that Users have come to Rely on.

              

Again Who fucking Cares How You Feel every Minute of the Goddamn Day?! You’re Not Nearly That Special. That’s the trick of Social Media it makes You feel far more Important than You actually Ever will be in all likelihood.

It’s the Utter Distain and Unfathomable Contempt for such Social Media Drivel is the Reason I have created a New (More Honest and Way More Realistic) List Status Updates. Enjoy.

  • Barry is Currently having Wild Sex with a Goat.
  • Louis is Busy Cooking Meth
  • Chuck is watching Hardcore German Porn.
  • Dave has Explosive Diarrhea.
  • Warren is Donating Sperm Again.
  • Linda is Hungover as Hell and Projectile Vomiting.
  • Francis is Window Shopping on Amazon like an Asshole.
  • Quinn is Writing Erotic Stories about a Nun and an Alter Boy.
  • Rex is considering a Career as a Urologist.
  • Aron is a Closet Nazi.

              

  • Gill is Bidding on an Antique Chastity Belt on eBay.
  • Luke is Ordering a Mail Order Bride from Croatia.
  • Marry is Doomsday Prepping for the Apocalypse.
  • Richard is Googling How to Preform an At Home Prostate Exam.
  • Will is Surfing the Dark Web for a Hitman.
  • Jerry is Busy Manscaping.
  • Blair is having a Heavy Flow Day.
  • Arnold Believes Pimping Ain’t Easy.
  • Kelly just woke up in a Pool of Her Own Vomit.
  • Zelda is Wondering Why Animal Assholes and the Opening is Soda Lids look the Same.

              

  • Brittany just tried Anal Sex for the First Time.
  • Valerie is Waxing Everything.
  • Billy is Ordering Asian Sex Toys Online.
  • Beth is Considering getting into Porn.
  • Shelby is Eating a Shit Sandwich.
  • Florence is working on Her New Fuzzy Costume for The Furry Ball.
  • Steve is Tripping Balls on Some Insane Blotter Acid.
  • Francine is Getting Furiously Finger Fucked.
  • Larry is imagining what it’s like to Titty Fuck Bob’s Man Boobs.
  • Rick just made an Appointment to get His Taint Tattooed.=

              

  • Carl can’t Handle is Booze.
  • Scott Tried Smoking Crack and Loved it.
  • Alice took a Massive Shit and is Looking at it Now.
  • Nick is Writing Shit on a Bathroom Wall.
  • Gill is refilling His Prescription for Viagra at The Pharmacy.
  • Travis is making All Natural Hand Made Tampons for His Wife.
  • Racheal is Learning How to Taxidermy and Practicing on Roadkill.
  • Sam is practicing making Balloon Animals Using His Dick.
  • Zander Enjoys Hot Sauce Enemas.
  • Albert is a Colonicholic.

              

  • Alice is starting a Flea Circus due to a Vaudeville Fetish.
  • Blair Farted and it smells like She Needs a Proctologist.
  • Stan just Shit Himself standing in Line at a Fast Food Restaurant.
  • Ralph is Thinking of Purchasing a High End Sex Doll for Christmas.
  • Stella is Contributing to the Delinquency of a Minor behind WaWa.
  • Freddy is Attending a Family Reunion Where He’s the Creepy Uncle.
  • Stacy still Wets the Bed Weekly.
  • Benny was Banging an Inflatable Sex Doll and it Exploded Blowing off Both His Balls.
  • Nina is becoming Sexually Aroused watching Animals have Sex in a Nature Documentary.
  • Walt is Listening to Anal Cunt’s Greatest Hits.

              

  • Trent is Reading the Current Copy of Guns & Ammo at His Grandmother’s Funeral
  • Tiffany is Coated Head to Toe in KY Jelly.
  • Robbie is Wondering if Sex with a 3rd Cousin Removed Constitutes Incest.
  • Ken is Hiring a Prostitute.
  • Karen is Scoring Drugs Right Now in a Shitty Neighborhood.
  • Eddie is on Psychedelics and Hiding from a Plate of French Fries.
  • Bart just lost a Staring Contest with a Bowl of Oatmeal.
  • Dominic is Sucking off the Band Hanson Backstage.
  • Annie is Considering getting into Fisting.
  • Paula is having Sex in a Coffin to see if Necrophilia is for Her.

              

  • Vivian is Popping Pain Killers and Downing Them with Whiskey.
  • Holly is Polishing Her Nipple Clamp Collection.
  • Herbert is a German Cannibal.
  • Taylor is paying for Collage with the Money He made in Porn as a Stunt Cock.
  • Ryan is Measuring His Dick.
  • Stewart is trying to Figure Out if occasionally peeking at Another Man’s Pecker at the Urinal makes Him Gay.
  • Tiffany is Bleaching Her Asshole because She’s about to get Back into the Dating World.
  • Gary is Cat fishing His Sister.
  • Olga Thinks Hand Jobs are Outdated.
  • Jillian has a Habit of Humping the Homeless.

           

  • Bart got His Dick Stuck in a Swedish Penis Pump.
  • Becky thinks Lindsey Her Best Friend is kinda of a Cunt.
  • Eloise is on the Way to the Emergency Room with a Ruptured Breast Implant.
  • Diana has a Surgically Reconstructed Asshole.
  • Ari is getting Botox Treatments for His Scrotum Wrinkles.
  • Peter is walking His Dog and Watching as it Takes a Shit.
  • Deloris just crapped so Hard She Prolapsed Her Asshole.
  • Sue is Sniffing Glue getting a White Trash High.
  • Dale is making Wind Chimes out of Natty Ice Cans to Sell in the Local Trailer Parks.
  • Gabby Ate Her Inner Child.

                

  • Henry is Growing Shitty Ditch Weed in His Attic.
  • Donovan is in Reddit Chats while Wearing His Grandmother’s Underwear.
  • Jake shot a Man just to Watch Him Die, But Got Distracted and Missed it.
  • Reese got His Dick Stuck in a Chinese Finger Trap He won at the County Fair.
  • Lucy is in Love with an Alcoholic Carnie that reminds Her of Her Dad.
  • Reggie is walking around is House looking for Things He can Use to Improvise a Cock Ring.
  • Selma had Her Stomach Pumped just for the Experience.
  • Trina is Reading About Historic Safe Sex Methods/Practices.
  • Brittany is having Her 17th Abortion.
  • Oliver May Have Been Abducted by Aliens and Extensively Anal Probed.

              

Thanks For Reading,

  By Les Sober

(Posted @ 1:37am)

Lee Jonitis: Professional People Watcher (45/365)

Lee exited the Bathroom Post Haste, and once He was out He could hear Dizzy Shouting like a Lunatic. Lee looked around to see where Dizzy was when He saw that one of the Windows was open. While Lee was on a Sickening Safari of the Bathroom Dizzy had slipped out the Window onto the Rusty and Way Too Rickety Fire Escape. Lee poked His head out the Window to find Dizzy in the middle of a Heated Argument with a Disheveled looking Crackhead.

“I didn’t TOUCH Your fucking Shopping Cart Crackie! It was probably fucking STOLEN by one of Your Crackhead Cohorts You fucking Whack Job!” Hollered Dizzy at the Crackhead on the Street Below.

“BULLSHIT! I Know You fucked with My Cart Cracker, Your ALWAYS giving Me shit calling Me Names and Shit. You moved it because You wanna get rid of Me cuz You don’t like Me or My Associates living in Your Neighborhood!” screamed the Crackhead back at Dizzy who was preoccupied searching for something to Throw at Him.

        

“You don’t live ANYWHERE You Loiter around a CRACKHOUSE and Lurk creeping through the Streets like filthy fucking Paracites. Who the fuck do You think You are talking all this shit to Me you fucking Dope Addicted Asshole!” Dizzy Yelled back still looking for a Projectile to Launch at the stubborn Crackhead.

“GIVE ME MY CART! YOU OWE ME A CART! GET MY CART NOW YOU HONKEY MOTHERFUCKER!!” Demanded the Crackhead at the Top of His Shot Out Lungs

“FUCK OFF before I call the POLICE and You can Cop Crack in Cell Block 6 You Street Trash Crack Smoking cocksucker!” declared Dizzy Triumphantly as He Threw and Empty Pint of Wild Turkey 101 directly at the Angry Crackheads Face.

       

The Bottle flew flawlessly through the Air like a motherfucking Missile and hit the Crackhead right across the bridge of His nose. The Bottle exploded in a Shower of Glass Shards while simultaneously Breaking the Crackheads Nose. A Fountain of Blood came Gushing out of the Crackheads Nose like Niagara fucking Falls as He Collapsed to His knees. Once the Crackheads knees hit the Asphalt He instantly Slumped forward and started Wailing like a Wounded Animal. His blood collected in a growing Pool in front of Him as He sat in the middle of the street Brow Beaten and Defeated.

“Jesus Crack Smoking Christ,” exclaimed Dizzy reentered the Apartment, “Proof theres NEVER a Cop around when You need One. Thats why at the END of every Action Movie the Cops always come Charging in like the fucking Calvary AFTER THE FUCKING FACT. Mind You if I dared to take a fucking piss in an Alleyway I’d get Arrested in a fucking Heart Beat, but these Crack Smoking Sons of Bitches are allowed to Wonder wherever They want Without Issue.”

       

“Thats the Hypocrisy of the Police. Who exactly do They Protect? Who the fuck do They Serve? The fucking Government thats Who the Authoritarian Assholes.” replied Lee as He felt the same fucking way about it as Dizzy did.

“Well now that the Crackhead and the Case of the Missing Cart is Complete what I want to know is what the hell are We gonna do for the rest of the Day.” announced Dizzy rather Impatiently.

“The Best thing to do is consider Our Options I suppose.” answered Lee Honestly as He surveyed  the Stalagmites of Dust hanging from Dizzy’s ceiling which Lee thought looked like wads of Ghost Cum to Him.

        

Stay Tuned for the Next Invigorating Installment of………

LEE JONITIS: PROFESSIONAL PEOPLE WATCHER 46/365

(This Sunday We return to Our usual Lee Jonitis Posts)

Thanks for Reading,

 By Les Sober

Everything is Coming up R̶o̶s̶e̶s̶ Crack Roses

Once upon a time, I used to be that guy that would check the internet for random holidays and annoy the shit out of people celebrating them.

National Cupcake Day? Sounds good to me.

National Piss Off Your Co-Worker Day? Why limit that to one day? I did this by breathing every single day. I once got poked in the eye by a female co-worker for the simple reason of me doing my job. Got a nifty pair of goggles by that is another tale.

National Prostitutes Day- I used to celebrate this but not anymore. I don’t think I’m still for sale but I sure as hell am not crusty enough to be buying yet.

So this week I am going to proclaim National Crack Cocaine Week. I am not really sure why it should be this week. I mean Bobby Brown was born in February and Whitney Houston was born in August. The crack mayor from the 1990s Marion Barry was born in March.

So why Crack Week? Why should it be right now? All of my actions this week have led me to crack. I have not personally smoked crack in more than a decade, nor do I have any burning desire to do so. Yet if I were pulled over earlier this week by a cop I would have quite a bit of difficulty explaining myself. My truth is their fiction.

           

It all started so innocently. Boy meets boy. Boys get weed. Boys smoke a bong hit. Boy gets a bit too high. Boy asks what is in this. Boy gets told freebase. Boy is older than the internet so he has no clue. Innocence gone.

Boy hits a car going 2 miles per hour. Lady in other car has a hissy fit. Cops come. Boy bats his eyes and pleads innocence. Cop tells boy (me) to go fuck my friend. I say no he’s not into me. Cop says your friend wants it real bad. Friend doesn’t believe me. Cop then flicks his tongue in and out at us in a manner that reminded me of Gene Simmons. Friend believes me.

So that is my history. That is my first time. I know some of you will say freebase is not crack to which I say YOU ARE A CRACKHEAD.

Back to the present……

           

I had a rather unfortunate event with my glass bong last weekend. I yanked it from underneath my kitchen cabinet directly upward and destruction was upon me.

Then at the same time I somehow threw out the only screen I had for it into the garbage. I checked my two faucets. They were barren of screens. So now logic would dictate I just buy a screen with the bong but no. I just bought a bong by itself.

Then I was just down to some shake left in my bag o’ weed. So instead of going back to where I bought the bong I thought oh I should just buy some Chore Boy. In my head I remember it as not having so many holes in it. So I threw my shake in there with the Chore. It utterly failed. I did have a flashback to smoking crack, not an urge per-say, just well Chore Boy does have a unique taste on its own.

       

So now I’m stuck with this.

At least if a random crackhead comes out of the woods and somehow gets into my apartment they will have something useful to steal. I’m seriously considering sticking it in a bowl with 1000 pennies so they’d have another amusement. Copper for the win BABY!!!

So then this new bong had a stem I did not like. (I did not break the old stem). It was too long and thin. So I decided to execute it in my sink. I thought it would break into a million pieces but instead I ended up with this. The STEMASAURUS!!!

 By SpaceDog

Text-A-Rama: Another Round of Absurd Insanity

Yup you got it I’m here to dish up another heaping helping of Late Night Texting (between SpaceDog and My self) served Insanity Side Up with a side of Shit Talking.

SpaceDog: Also you can add “hey Goggle, fuck off” to the list of Fucks. So i either have a broken heater or my upstairs neighbor has the loudest vibrator known to man. Overtime i hear the loud buzz i turn up my tv as loud as possible (or music) and no matter what after 10 minutes it goes away. What the fuck could it possibly be if not the heater making the bitch of a buzz noise? My heater has not ran as further reference.

Les: I agree fuck Google, fuck’ed straight to the 9th circle of Hell for all I fucking care, search shit engine. What kind of heating do you have exactly I don’t remember from my visits. My brain is like a fucking Old Car. Its still runs but it takes a few minutes to warn the hell up. Dunno did you change the Filter?

SpaceDog: Baseboard like a basehead. isn’t basehead the original crackhead?

Les: Oh well fuck the filter idea. LMFAO. Yeah before crackheads were baseheads. Its the fucking evolution of Crack Cocaine! Before crack people freebased combining Cocaine and Baking Powder into a smokable form of powder. Richard Pryor set himself on fucking fire free basing.

SpaceDog: Probably the fuck not they don’t do shit around here.

Les: Been there and I had to fucking pay an HOA quarterly for doing DICK. Home Owning Assholes.

SpaceDog: Yo these asses left the sprinkler on during a nor easter which wouldn’t have been bad but it was set to go off so it would pound against my windows every 4 hrs for 15 minutes. I had to go out in the rain climb through bushes, throw the sprinkler into the lawn, wade threw bushes and mud and shut the fucker off.

Les: What kind of dumbfuck leaves the sprinkler during a fucking nor Easter?! Even if the sprinkler timer is pre set they could hit the kill switch or some shit to shut it down. Goddamn thats a bunch of unnecessary horseshit. I’d be pissed as hell too. Who needs that shit.

SpaceDog: So like literally after i get this urge to write in the silence my apartment is making all kinds of noises. LOL. I have not wanted to sit in silence since i stopped living with Eon 8 fucking years ago. In other news, the top breaking news tonight is Kanye realized he was being used by Donald and is staying away from politics. Lmfao

Les: Trump played Kanye the way Kim Jong-un played fucking Dennis Rodman LMFBO!!! Kanye is the African American’s answer to Alex “Asshole” Jones. Holy Fuckster 8 years is a fucking Prison sentence. EON A-LA-CRACKHEAD with a guitar, the coffee house crackhead cunt.

SpaceDog: Kanye the past 2 years is like Clint Eastwood talking-to that chair for 2 years straight.

Les: Lmfbo true. I want to see a fight between Charlie”Tigers Blood” Sheen Vs. Kanye “Dragon Energy” West.

SpaceDog: Hey u discovered any good way to make things disappear from continue watching on Netflix? I wish i could relabel this section Things That Suck Ass and Baited Into Subtitles because all you lazy fucks translated was the title.

Les: No I wish I had. Baited into subtitles LOL! I’ve seen foreign movies on Netflix with NO Subtitles or Over Dubbing so if you don’t speak the language your outright fucked. Working on a List of Fucks part 2. There were so many more Lmfao.

SpaceDog: Didn’t realize there were that many more.

Les: I didn’t either until I started thinking about “Fuck….” all over again.

SpaceDog: So hopefully i don’t sleep tonight as long as yesterday. I slept from 11:30 pm to 5 pm. Ok i got coffee at 7 and that kept me awake till 9 but thats a bit more sleep than i’d prefer.

Les: Sounds like you have Rip Van Winkle Syndrome or some shit.

SpaceDog: I feel like i have either strep, Legionaries or mono.

Les: Perhaps Narcolepsy or a bad bout of boredom Lmfbo!

SpaceDog: Walking pneumonia is another possibility.

Les: Thats Sucks Snail Scrotum. Being sick sucks Blue Whale Balls for sure. Goddamn disease. Fuck disease.

SpaceDog: Grocery shopping when sick sucks ass. I literally went down every aisle and realized all that was in my cart were peppermints.

Les: I might think about hitting up a fucking doctor just in case. better safe than dead. YOLO Peppermints riding SOLO!

SpaceDog: I have 3 antibiotics laying around. Was thinking of taking copra but idk why 1 tbh. My sickness started when i started hearing that noise. Go figure. Woo hoo i have a porn app on my phone I’m officially an old perv.

Les: Porn App you dirty old fucker, you use an app?! I just hit up Youporn on my phone if need be.

SpaceDog: Its android only ask file from videos.com

Les: PornHub Ve. YouPorn. Stumpfucker Films is all Amputee Porn.

SpaceDog: Im finally out of mental and penile anguish from seeing a prolapsed butthole.

Les: Dear fucking God thats a seriously fucked up thing to see, burns into your fucking brain forever.

SpaceDog: Can we make a show for Netflix? I mean if haters back off was a show why can’t i just go around filming ivy savage all day?

Les:Where the hell did you see some sick shit like that at?!! Netflix is a good fucking question you got me there.

SpaceDog: I really just want to see a rim job but whatever fucking site i was on i guess i included too many search words and boom it was all hanging the fuck out.

Les: Case of Mangled Rectal Trama. Can you take a shit with a prolapsed asshole?! What if you tied 2 prolapsed rectums together?! Can you blow it up like a fucking balloon animal?!

SpaceDog: Not just like oh your asshole is swollen from a hard fuck, no i mean i probably saw prostate. Idk I’m glad i didn’t have that picture in my head when the lady at hurry back inn told me about her reversed bowels 15 years ago.

Les: Reversed Bowels?!! WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT ABOUT?! Lmfba!

SpaceDog: I miss Leonard’s

Les: Leonard’s? Bloody Stool is my new favorite band.

SpaceDog: The bar on Crocker rd in Spamilton that was near my parents house.

Les: Oh OK I have no memory of that bar, then again I don’t remember a whole hell of a lot from most bars.

SpcaeDog: Its some pizza bar now. I don’t miss the other bar on that street. All i remember is it was the first time in my life i incited an angry mob. The other were at mcguinns and at the lottery ticket machine.

Les: Lmfao what the hell was the angry mob thing about because it sounds entertaining.

SpaceDog: Which One? LOL

Les: Any and all of Course.

SpaceDog: Was so crunk i thought i was at a gay bar and got catty at some random dude and he took it as fighting words, then started shit with a different dude. Mcguinns got kicked out for being overly intoxicated but stole 3 cell phones on the way out (pre smartphone era)

Les: Catty and Crunk sounds like a fucking crime tv cop buddy detective shows from the fucking 70’s.

SpaceDog: Lottery machine i stuck money in the scan winning ticket hole and the machine went completely dead with a line of like 30 people behind me. Machine went completely dead for 5 minutes but then took 5 more to reboot.

Les: Why the hell did it need to Reboot?!

SpcaeDog: Quite possibly the 10 longest sober minutes of my life. Took a hammer to them after not finding any kompromat on them.

Les: Thats a real Lottery Machine Motherfucker.

SpaceDog: I aslo lost a sneaker in mcguinns so i came home with 1 shoe. Like hell i was going back for it though LOL

Les: LOL think we have all been there with the coming home drunk to sober up with one less shoe. Fuck and No I wouldn’t have gone back for it either.

SpaceDog: That literally was the only time i walked solo to mcguinns. I was more a crystal diner take teenage boys in the bathroom to do shots with me.

Les: a Bathroom Bar. Sounds like Ye Old Crystal Diner. I knew it well. Used to go there with The Arminian, Eon, and Homicidal Hippy when we were dealing drugs together.

SpaceDog: Its the route 1 diner now. Not 24 hrs. Shittsville has zero 24 hrs shit now. Quite possibly the only WaWa gas station on Earth that closes.

Les: Last time I went to the Crystal Diner I ran into Jack Off Jimmy V who tried to be a condescending cunt and get in my face for being stoned as well as drunk, and I was all I used to be your fucking drug dealer you bitch ass bitch. What Jimmy didn’t know is though we hadn’t seen each other in several years I still knew the shit that happened to him i that time the dumb twat. I informed him I knew of his addiction to Tart heroin followed by rehab and then a full scale metal breakdown (schitzophrenia I think)SO FUCK THAT JACK OFF.

SpaceDog: Yeah judgey people suck. Thats pretty fucking funny.

Les: What?! No longer open 24 hrs and with a cliche stupid ass name that really fucking sucks. RIP Crystal Diner a True Dive Diner.

Les: This Fucks list part 2 is actually longer than the original. Lmfao! Original word count was 1,063. Part 2 word count is 1,255.

SpaceDog: Are there repeat fucks or original fucks only?

Les: Don’t think there any repeats, hope fucking not. Its hard to keep count it gave me a fucking migraine but i HATE doubles, it looks like your stacking the deck and bullshit like that.

SpaceDog: Yeah i sure as all hell don’t feel like counting. Reading the first list of fucks was exhausting and made me feel dirty.

Les: Lmfao Exactly. I figure if there just so happens to be a repeat no one will every notice unless they have some serious fucking OCD. Also .49 cent Sushi is My Wife’s new favorite band. I just created a word SLUNT. Definition: A Slutty Cunt.

+End Transmission+

Thanks for Reading,

Brought to You By,

 SpaceDog

 Les Sober

The Second Time Isn’t “The Charm”

This is the Tale of My Second Arrest which is exactly the opposite of My First.

My life at that point was utter shit. I was in the grips of of hardcore Drug Addiction. The apartment I was occupying was really quite nice when I moved in, but at this point do to neglect had become a run down hellhole. I spent all my time with my with my asshole neighbor Big Douche desperately scheming and scamming, lying and Cheating, Stealing and Robbing anything for a fucking dollar.

Once we had some cash we’d get drunk as fuck and then go score some crack. Once we smoked up all the crack we went and bought Heroin. This was a endless daily cycle .

In reality I fucking hated Big Douche and would think about killing him in his sleep constantly. He truly was a fucked up fucking asshole of a human being, too fucking damaged to ever be fixed. Big Douche was the definition of a Lost Cause. I’ll digress for now since The Tale of Big Douche will be forthcoming.

So one afternoon we had managed to scrounge up enough cash for a couple of bags of Heroin, and headed out to our usual copping spot.

I’m going to pause here to take a minute to explain exactly where we scored our shit.

I/We lived in a bustling little suburbia that was a short 15 minute drive into the State’s Capital City. Now once a go the Capital City was a rich and prosperous area full of business. Then the businesses left and so did anyone who could fucking afford to. Over the years the City decayed as it hemorrhaged money through failed attempts to improve the City.

A perfect example is the Capital City spent MILLIONS to build a Sports Stadium in the City (rather than on the outskirts) and it was an instant epic failure. See because they built the Stadium IN the city there was INSUFFICIENT PARKING.

This meant Attendees had to park on the street(s) and walk to the Stadium. The only issue with that was NO ONE wanted to walk down said streets especially with their loved ones or kids. The City even tried combating the problem by stationing a Cop on every outlying corner, AND THAT DIDN’T WORK EITHER, but I digress.

We drove through the filthy trash littered streets lined with old decrepit old houses rotting away through the years.

On any given day We’d see the wandering Hookers, Homeless Begging Bums, Gang Bangers, Pimps, Junkies, Poverty, Stray Cats and Dogs, Crackheads, Drug Dealers, and other of life’s rejected throw aways lurking and loitering on the corners or walking between/among them.

On this particular day the streets were completely vacant there wasn’t a single soul in sight. We drove around several different blocks, but it was all the same the streets were all utterly empty.

I had a bad feeling. A Gut Feeling and not a good one.

The only reason that the usual degenerates wouldn’t be out pounding the streets (committing various dastardly deeds) was a simple one. Just two simple words: Police Activity.

The Police were the preverbal Lights that when flipped on sends the Rats and Roaches scrambling for cover of any kind.

I told Big Douche that we should bail and come back later because obviously something was going on that was making the Natives Restless if you will. Now Big Douche living up to his name continued to relentlessly circle block after block searching for anyone who might be a Dope Dealer. He was franticly obsessed the way Junkies do when their fiending for a fix.

At last right as Big Douche finally was giving up we drove up on a Bodega and a Large (and rather fat) Guy strode out the door. Big Douche being a Junkie immediately decides this is a person is a drug dealer and signals him as it were.

The Guy signals back. I’m pissed as pissed can get because I couldn’t believe we hadn’t bounced yet, and that Big Douche was being a complete cunt. In some bizarre passive aggressive bullshit I deliberately didn’t look at, talk to or even acknowledged The Guy.

The Guy reaches through the drivers side window and does the exchange. Instead of driving off like a good little junkie Big Douche stops to look at the couple bags of Dope, and notices (again being a good little junkie) that the Heroin looks funny. It looks fake. Fake as a motherfucker.

Big Douche leans over and calls the Guy out stating that the Guy’s dope looks beat as shit. The Guy denies it and keeps trying to brush us off. Big Douche then decides he wants his money back (Yeah thats right he wanted the Drug Dealer to refund his money for selling him fake Heroin) and opens the Driver’s door and stood  between the car and the car door arguing with the Guy.

Eventually like a junkie Big Douche stops arguing and starts begging like a big ass bitch. The Guy doesn’t want to hear a single fucking word about it. Big Douche at last accepts defeat and we start to pull away from the curb.

That’s when I saw it, thats when I knew we were fucked. What I saw was the Guy raising his arm to wave in the Cops who were hiding around the way in. The next thing we knew the Cops had 3 cars pinning us in as other Cops ran up to the car yelling like a bunch a savage assholes.

We get out of the car, handcuffed, and then driven around the corner so the Cops entrapment spot wouldn’t get blown up. They transferred us into additional Cop cars and took us to the Police Station.

Once we got there Big Douche was booked, Processed, and sent to County Jail on a slew of yet undressed charges.

I was a bit luckier since I did;t have any outstanding legal issues I was booked and then released on my own recognizance. I was also given a court date the following day.

Needless to say I didn’t sleep that night. I unplugged the phone because Big Douche keep calling asking for me to help contact people to come bail him out. I could have cared less as I was worried about being locked up the very next day.

Unlike my first arrest there was no time in-between my arrest and my trial. It happened so fast I’m really not sure if I even had a court appointed Lawyer (I don’t remember talking or meeting with one at all). I went to my court date, and I remember sitting alone in the court room as the Judge worked his way down the days docket. He finally gets to me and I remember I stood up and remained standing in the same spot.

I remember this Judge some old nasty bastard who lectured me for what seemed like fucking hours about how Drug Addicts are coming into the City to score their drugs which in turn is destroying the City itself.

BULL-FUCKING-SHIT.

First there THOUSANDS of drug addicts in the Judge’s fantastical City. And the only reason Drug Addicts were coming to his City was due to the fact THATS WHERE THE FUCKING DRUG DEALERS ARE. Also as I mentioned earlier the “Fine City” the Judge spoke of was and still is a Growing, Thriving, and Worsening SHITHOLE.

Once the cranky old cocksucker of a Judge wraps up his bullshit tirade he sentenced me to 90 Days Suspended Sentence. The first time I was arrested I got 3 years Probation with a ton of added conditions (all of which I violated like a motherfucker).

This time I simply had to stay out of trouble (aka Get Arrested Again) for 90 days then I’d be off the legal hook, and the arrest would be expunged from my Police Record.

Luckily I managed not to get arrested again (in those 90 days and ever again) though I continued to spend my days living the life of a junkie which by definition requires breaking laws left and right.

Thanks for Reading,

Les Sober 

Marijuana & My Mother Do a Complete 180

I remember when California passed The Compassionate Use Act in 1996 (becoming the 1st State to legalize Medical Marijuana) my friends and I were floored. Until now our Pot Smokings greatest aspirations were to save up enough money to make the Pot Head Pilgrimage across the Ocean to the Netherlands. The destination being the Legendary City of Marijuana known as Amsterdam. The Mystical Metropolis where Weed was sold and smoked without legal or social persecution  as No One Gave a Shit (a fucking Utopia as far as my Friends were concerned).

And now there it was the State of California a Pot Smokers Beacon of Hope, but it was a “So Close Yet So Far” Scenario for my Friends and I unfortunately. See while California legalized Medical Marijuana (which illuminated a lot of Foreign travel bullshit making it much easier to access  than Amsterdam) you had to be a Legal Resident with a Doctor’s Prescription Card to reap the benefits of Medical Marijuana Legally.

So California felt as fucking far away as Andsterdajm as far as I was concerned. Thankfully for me over the past 22 years 29 states have Legalized (Medical OR Recreational) Marijuana use by persons over the age of 21.

When I was growing up I started smoking Weed around 15-16 years old and have continued to this very day. My Mom was the fucking antithesis of Ronnie Regan’s bullshit War On Drugs that labeled Marijuana a Gate Way Drug (Which has been proven to be false as Alcohol is the actual 1st intoxicant Teens try so FUCK OFF ALCHOL.

Anyway the point being my Mother was disgusted and appalled by anyone, (let alone her Son) using Marijuana, and spent years battling in vain to get me to quite smoking weed. She used the old school smell check when I would get home starting  in High School in an attempt to detect the smell of Weed. The problem was my Mother had (and still doesn’t really) know what the fuck Weed smells like. This led to countless unfounded accusations because she mistook Incense, Petrulli Oil, Cloves, Cigarillo’s, Certain Cologne, and camp fire smoke just to name a few. In the end she caught me a few times when I was definitely Stoned, but only once did she find Weed. One evening She ran through my jacket pockets, and removed a fat ass Dime Bag yet never mentioned it to me ironically as it were.

. At the same time on the other side of the Cannabis Coin I spent just as many years futilely fighting to change my Mother’s negative view of Marijuana. I constantly fought to inform my Mother Marijuana had multiple Medical Uses, and wasn’t a killer narcotic like Crack. I argued that the Gate Way Drug Theory was bullshit. Was I really meant to believe if I smoked Weed on Wednesday I’d be robbing Old Ladies and shooting Heroin into my fucking neck?!!! Bullshit.

Now we fast forward to 2016 and I’m now in my 30’s and I was a married home owner living in the Great Southern Swamp. I was visiting my Father who was struggling against Liver Cancer because he wan’t people to remember him as he was not as a crippled, bed ridden living Corpse.

My Father loved to cook, hell thats an understatement. He had cooked dinner for me,my Wife, Himself, his 2nd Wife, and oddly my Mother. We were in the middle of eating I was seated at one end of the table and my Father at the other when my Mother (sitting to the right of my Father), and then it happened. My Father at that point was on a powerful as fuck Steroid that was causing mild insomnia (He slept 3-4 hours a night) and inhibiting his appetite. Now not just cooking food, but eating it as well was one of my Father’s true passions, and he quit Chemotherapy because he was too nauseous and fatigued to even think about eating shit.

My Mother leans over and all of a sudden she asked:

“Have you tired Marijuana???”

Now the answer was yes he had tried it once since getting sick. He had decided to try it at least once since he had nothing to loose (not like it kill him). The first hurdle for him (besides living in a state where Marijuana is still Illegal) was he was in his 70’s so who could he ask about getting Weed? He finally asked a close friend who had a Daughter who lived in The Rotten Apple and had a Dealer. Next my Father had obsessed about how much he should smoke ( take a couple hits of a joint? Smoke Half? Smoke it All? I think he was very weary of the affects and it made him rather uneasy.

The Daughter’s Dealer sent a Joint along to my Father along with the message to Please Smoke the Sample Joint and if my Father liked it to let him know. I didn’t have the pleasure of smoking with my Father, but my Younger Brother did. This was in part due to a phone call awhile before hand where I asked him to be there to help assist my  Father’s inaugural Toking to make sure things went smoothly. It did accept no one informed my Father that due to its unique reverse tolerance (Marijuana has to build up in your system before you can experience the High which is why in most all cases a person won’t get Stoned the 1st or 1st few times the smoke.) he might need to keep going, but he figured once was enough for him.

I couldn’t get over what my Mother had said and couldn’t let it go until I found out why. It only took a couple of moths or so and I learned the real story.

Apparently my Mother has a very good friend who suffers from brutal insomnia (She would go DAYS without sleeping), and she to had a Daughter who happened to live in Colorado (The New Mecca for Marijuana in America). So inevitably my Mother’s Friend flew out to visit her Daughter, and while she was there visiting her Daughter suggested trying Marijuana to combat her ongoing contest against insomnia. My Mother’s friend thought why not and purchased some Weed from a local Dispensary (Marijuana is Legal for Medical AND Recreational Adult Use) and tried it. She was blown away as she had never imagined Marijuana would work nearly as well as it did. Since that trip She had been singing the praises of Marijuana to everyone She knew INCLUDING MY MOTHER.

Then in that instant I realized what the fuck was going on. Its damn near identical as to going to Court. You can go to Court and tell the Judge your innocent and he sends you to jail, BUT if you hire a Lawyer and he says the same fucking thing you did/would have all of a sudden the Judge starts listening.

And thats exactly what had happened with my Mother and her views of Marijuana. I could tell her till I was blue in the fucking face (and I did) about the benefits of Marijuana and all the bullshit propaganda             BUT UNTIL HER GOOD FRIEND VOUCHED FOR THE BENEFITS OF MARIJUANA THROUGH HER PERSONAL EXPERIENCE was the convincing factor for my Mother’s drastic and positive attitude change towards Medical Marijuana.

Sometimes its not WHATS BEING SAID BUT WHO’S SAYING IT that matters.

Thanks for Reading,

Les Sober 

Dr. Ignoramus’s Monumental Misdiagnosis Results in Near Death

Recently my Heart tried to kill me since the Chain Smoking, Binge Drinking, Shitty Diet, Shooting Heroin, Smoking Crack, Other Assorted Narcotics, and Hepatitis C couldn’t get the job done first. Ironically the issue with my Damnable Heart is more than likely due to my prior Drug use earlier in My wayward Youth. As usual People tell Me I’d feel better off if I wrote about whatever it is currently vexing the shit out of me (like My Hellish Heart) if I write about it. Well no shit Sherlock. The reason I never would have mentioned My Shitty Heart scenario is because its none of anyones fucking business but Mine, and I’ll handle it so Everyone Piss Off. I also hate People who always seem to be bitching about there fucking health always seeking sympathy. I don’t need nor want anyones sympathy.

Well with that said I’m using this post as an Acid Test to see if in this case writing about it helps, so We will see here We go….

I had been having increasing trouble breathing to the point it was disrupting My Sleep and Appetite. At this point even though I detest no despise Doctor’s, Hospitals, Health Insurance Companies, and Medical Testing decided it was time to check things out (though I was already convinced there was nothing to worry about so I’d get it checked out.) I ended up at a Local Hospitals Urgent Care Satellite Office because Hospitals are now desperately trying to cash in on the Walk-In Urgent Care Field.

This makes perfect sense as Hospital ER’s are loosing increasing amounts of income due to the fact people opt for Urgent Care Clinic’s (usually because of convince and most of all Price. You see as soon as you walk into an ER your tab starts at $1,000 and thats just for utilizing the ER everything else they do costs extra as every fucking thing they due is itemized and comes with a hefty price tag. $22 for a fucking 800mg Aspirin?! I mean its fucked up as a patient you get charged just for occupying a semi private room for $1,200 – $1,500 a day like some Wealthy Elite 5 Star resort in fucking Dubai. Well Back to the Story.

I checked in, and was escorted promptly to an Examination room. A couple of minutes later the Office’s Physician’s Assistant (or PA for short) who is one rung lower on the Medical Ladder than an actual Doctor came in. I explained what was going on and based on what I said He decided the best course of action was to run a Cardiac Work Up which is standard practice for anyone presenting with the medical definition of Chest Pain. To Me Pain fucking Hurts, so a what I deemed a minor respiratory issue doesn’t constitute Chest Pain, but in the World of Medicine it does so fuck me.

There 3 parts to a Cardiac Work-Up the first being a EKG to monitor your hearts current behavior, a Cardiac Blood Panel, and a Series of Chest X-Rays which they did. Now based on the Combined Test results this imbecile of a PA diagnosis me with fucking Anxiety, Gives me a fistful of asinine Ativan, and told me to look into seeing a Shrink.

What He should have done was send me immediately directly to the closest ER for Admittance, in spite of preforming the correct Tests He made a gross and grave misdiagnosis.

Case in point, I saw that ignorant Idiot on a Wednesday, and on the Morning of the following Monday I was being admitted to the Hospital via the ER as Doctors/Nurses scrambled to treat me as I was in danger of going into massive cardiac arrest followed most likely by death even though at that point I was surrounded by The Hospital’s assorted Medical Staff.

Since My Recovery I have contacted the 2 Agencies of the American Medical Association has in place to handle complaints by investigating the Patient’s claims. Doctors hate these 2 Agencies because they actually fear the fuck out of them. Thats because BOTH AGENCIES can level hefty fines, suspend the Doctor’s Medical license, and Even Revoke The Doctor’s License thus ending their career. I called and filed a complaint with BOTH Agencies. I have not yet decided wether or not to pursue a Medical Malpractice Law Suit, BUT I did find out the Statute of Limitation in which I have to file a  Suit if I so wish.

Thats All. Thanks For Reading,

Les Sober 

Chaos & The 2 Year Career: Malice The Band That Almost Killed Us All Part 2

NOTE: Alright Reader from now on I will be using a Time Line to keep this post entertaining and no longer than it needs to be.

Feb. 5th, 1988  “Mad as Hell” Tour ends, and Gar Fisch announces he is leaving the band due to the physical toll that the Stank Breath Years had taken on his body and health. For Example due to Gar’s firecracker anal oriented antics had left Gar with a permanently prolapsed asshole.

Feb. 7th, 1988 Von Dire calls an emergency band meeting, and after several rounds of Tequila Shots and Nitrous Whip Its decided to hire a manager. They settled on Marty Trundle who immediately terminated their contract with RatFuck Records and got them signed to WhoreMonger Records a major International label.

Feb. 9th, 1988 WhoreMonger books Malice on a 6 month Festival Tour across North America and Europe. Malice celebrates with a 72 hour drug binge ending in the band being arrested for Public Intoxication, Public Nudity, and Defecting in Public.

Feb. 13th, 1988 Trundle introduced Dire, Vile, and Rage to Ex-Sleaze guitarist Eddie Sleaze as a possible replacement for Gar Fisch. The band and Sleaze bond over countless beers and lines of Cocaine. Somewhere along the way Sleaze was officially hired as Malice’s replacement guitarist.

Feb. 15th, 1988 Malice hit the road for the start of the “WhoreMonger’s Whores” Tour with their first show in Peoria Illinois at The Mental Metal Festival. The show ended early because the Fire Marshall showed up and informed the Festival Promoter the amount of Pyrotechnics Malice planned to use were considered “A Hazardous Explosive Threat”. The Promotoer facing a massive fine as well as having his entire Festival shut down radioed the Stage Manager and told him to halt any future Pyrotechnics Malice was planning to use. When the Pyrotechnics didn’t go off during the drum solo Von Dire was infuriated beyond belief.

The rest of the band seeing something serious was going down stopped playing mid song. The confused Crowd was left standing in a muddy field wondering why the show they paid for suddenly stopped during the Headliner’s set. Von Dire grabbed the Promoter by the front of his shirt and dragged him on stage to confront him. Vile, Rage, and Sleazy abandoned their instruments as they walked over to see what the fuck the deal was. A now enraged Von Dire is screaming at the top of his lungs about how no bullshit is going to fuck up his show, Malice wanted to be financially compensated for the pyrotechnics not being used, and that the Promoter he was a sniveling, slippery little shit.

Sleaze decided he felt the same as Von Dire about the situation, and did nothing but piss gas on the fire by agitating Von Dire further and further. Rage left the stage pissed off, and not wanting to deal with this shit show so he was going to get shitfaced. Vile managed to get between Von Dire and the Promoter and was struggling to keep the two men apart as now the Promoter was angry as hell about being physically and verbally assaulted by Von Dire. With things utterly out of control Vile punched Von Dire in the balls and handed him off to a Roadie. Before Vile could explain himself  (hitting Von Dire in the balls was the only way for anyone to shut him down) was hit over the head with an empty beer bottled wielded by Sleaze.

The Stage crew, Festival Security, and the arrival of the Police combined managed to get things under control, but the Festival would be rescheduled for a later date due to the uproar that tonights show. Von Dire and Sleaze went to jail for Assault and Terroristic Threats, Vile went to the Emergency Room and received 19 stitches, and Rage ended up in the ER as well for Alcohol Poisoning later that night.

Feb. 18th, 1988 Malice plays the Wisconsin “Heavy Metal Massacre” Festival. The show goes well and without incident, but after the show things got pretty fucking crazy. After their set Malice retired to their dressing room for a pre celebration party celebration. They did so much Blow that they effectively snorted themselves into cocaine psychosis, ended up at the air for, barged through a line of people waiting to board their plane, and ended up on a flight to Albany NY. Luckily Trundle made it to the air port before the plane took off, but had to have the pilot to agree to taxi around the runway. This way Trundle argued he could convince the band they in fact had completed their impromptu plane ride.

Feb. 20th, 1988 Malice shows up a day early for Salt Lake City’s “SLC Metal Mayhem” Festival in Utah. Vile went to the Bauhaus Brewery (No relation to the post-punk band Bauhaus) and managed to get kicked out for being too drunk for the brewery tour. Trundle came and picked up the heavily intoxicated Vile and drove him to the Hotel Harrison to sleep it off.

Trundle then received a call that Rage was at The Pink Pussy also drunk off his ass and had jumped up on stage to preform his own strip tease. Though the Police had been called to the scene Trundle managed to convince them to let Rage go with a drunk and disorderly misdemeanor. While Trundle was running around like a mad man trying to keep his clients out of jail, the hospital or the Coroner’s Von Dire and Sleaze took a Ferrari for a test drive and traded it for $10,000 of Crack.

Now with a fat sack filled with high quality Crack Rocks walked to the nearest Shitty Corner Neighborhood Hellhole ran up a $379 tab before the two pulled a Booze-N-Bolt stiffing the elderly bartender who called the Cops. Fueled by a serious supply of Crack Von Dire and Sleaze picked up some $2 Hookers, and got a room at the nearest Flop House Motel (You know the kind where you pay by the hour and no one snitches)

After a STD ridden sexfest Von Dire and Sleazy had literally burned through their Crack Stash opted to inject Adderall into their necks. This is when all of a sudden Trundle burst into the room. He knew where the two were at because he had placed a GPS Tracker in one Vile’s many pieces of jewelry. Trundle had done this because after 12 years in the music business he had learned how to keep track off “High Risk” Talent. Trundle took Von Dire and Sleazy to a local 24 hour Drug Detox Center and had both their systems flushed free off Narcotics.

Feb 20th Malice misses their set at the “SLC Metal Mayhem” Festival due to the band was still recovering from the partying they did the night before. When the Crowd found out Malice was going to be a No Show they began to riot tearing the venue to pieces. In a last ditch effort to end the riot without incident or Police involvement the Festival’s Promoter announced that another fan favorite The Savage Savages would be taking Malice’s spot, and there would be a free meet-N-Greet after the show. This soothed the seething fans who stopped the destruction and celebrated in jubilation. The night ended with no one getting hurt or arrested, it was nothing short of a miracle.

Feb 21st Malice arrive at “Madmen of Metal” Festival in Hoonah Alaska population 740 (571 of which were rabid Malice Fans). The Show was one of Malice’s most notorious they ever preformed. As the band launched into their number one hit “Shit Sandwich” a rouge Penguin waddled on stage. Von Dire being lit as shit on LSD and Mushrooms was completely oblivious, and accidentally kicked the poor Penguin square in the face. What no one knew at the time that the Penguin was in actuality the prized pet of an Inuit Tribal Chief who took it as a gravest of insults. The still oblivious Von Dire instructed Malice to play their unit-authoritarian anthem “Fuck’em All” in response to the angry Inuit barrage. As the Inuits fought security Malice played on further infuriating the already anger Inuits who now where well aware they were being mocked by Malice’s music.

The Inuit’s at last had dispensed of every security guard and ran up on stage, grabbed Von Dire, Sleaze and Vile, tried a rope around their ankles, attached the other end of the rope to awaiting Dog Sleds, and then told the Sled Dogs to Mush dragging the 3 musicians off into the freezing pitch black of the Alaskan night. Von Dire, Vile, and Sleaze where found 8 hours later when the Sled Dogs stopped to take 5. All 3 were treated for frost bite and hypothermia and made a full recovery in a matter of days.

Malice was charged by the State of Alaska for Animal Abuse, Desecrating Sacred Tribal Soil, and Hate Crimes against the indigenous Inuits. None of these law suites was ever settled because Malice Self Destructed before the length court process was complete. To this day no one knows how Rage avoided capture including Rage who was blackout drunk before taking the stage.

Feb 23, 1988 Finally released from the Alaskan Hospital Von Dire, Vile, and Sleaze rejoined Rage and the band departed for the Oregan’s “Masters of Metal” Festival in the town of Ashland. Before the show Sleaze had an altercation with the opening band Pisser’s drummer. Apparently Sleaze was not a fan of Pisser’s music and considered them to be Punk Rock Wannabe’s. Sleaze had spent the day insulting the band, and talking mad shit to anyone who’d listen. Then Sleaze was approached by a reporter for “Heavy Metal Magazine” for a on the spot interview about the Festival Tour thus far, and how the band was handling it. During the interview of course Sleazy used the platform to further insult Pisser claiming their guitarist Ulrich “The Urinal” Upschicker was a shitty Eddie Sleaze imitation. Sleaze went on to further claim Pisser stole Stank Breath’s musical style in a lame attempt to capitalize on Malice’s wild success.

Later that night during Malice’s encore that night Ulrich made an unscheduled and unwanted appearance. Ulrich walked determinately onto the stage waiving a Giant, Double Headed, Neon Pink Dildo, and then walked over to Sleaze. Sleaze who was already striding across the stage to see what the fuck Ulrich was doing dropped his guitar and flipped Ulrich off with both hands. Ulrich then charged at Sleaze wailing the Dildo until he got face to face with Sleaze at which point he Pimp Slapped Sleaze across the face knocking him backwards.

Rage then threw his drum sticks at Ulrich who responded by ducking the drum sticks and laughing manically at Rages attempt to thwart him. Rage then came bolting out from behind his drums like a Bull in a china shop knocking his entire drum kit off the drum stage. Once Rage hit the stage he unceremoniously tripped over part of his drum kit and twisted his ankle sending him crashing down face first through his Bass Drum.

This amused Ulrich who now was being some what restrained by Security to no end, and further facilitating Ulrich’s maniacal Laughing. fit. Sleaze at the same time was distracted from Ulrich because he was busy battling Security to get off of him. Sleaze head butted several Security Guards before breaking free long enough to run across the stage, leap over the heads of the Security Guards surrounding Ulrich, and hit him with one hell of a Haymaker. The Punch hit Ulrich with such force it knocked out Ulrich’s two front teeth. Security consolidated their efforts on Sleaze at that point as Ulrich was distracted now looking for his teeth, and hollering for a Gallon of Milk.

Vile and Von Dire scrambled around avoiding Security as a couple of Roadies managed to retrieve Rage from amid the chaos to the on site EMT Tent. Von Dire spent his time dodging Security to rile the Crowd into a fit of frenzy until the Promoter cut the mic. This didn’t stop Von Dire who continued to scream at the Crowd inciting a violent relation against Pisser and any asshole who would hire them. Vile grabbed a bottle of Whiskey from the side of the stage (and downed the entire bottle) while ducking Security who were desperately trying to end the fight between Sleaze and Ulrich. The Police showed up in full Riot Gear and started using Tear Gas to disperse the unruly Crowd sending Malice fleeing the stage. Malice made it safely (aside from Rage’s self induced sprained ankle) to the waiting tour bus, and Trundle put the peddle to the metal speeding off down the Highway words the next show.

Feb. 26th 1988 Malice had spent the last couple of days on the way to South Dakota’s “Mega Metalfest” Festival in the town of Wall on the phone doing hundreds of interviews with the press in America, Asia, Canada, and Europe. Undoubtedly Malice was dominating the music scene across every medium Televisions, Newspapers, Magazines, and Word of Mouth. By the time Malice pulled into Wall their ego’s were so inflated they cancelled their performance, and announced it was due to the fact they had become too famous to play a town like Wall (whose a year round population of 800.)

Feb 28th 1988 The final day of the Festival Circuit Malice had fired Trundle and were actively looking for new representation. They had also terminated their deal with WhoreMonger and signed instead with Razorback Records who promised they could record their first album immediately. See up to this point though Malice’s success was sizable it was built sold on their live shows, they hadn’t even recorded a single song. That nights show was wild as Malice hit the stage in high spirits and ended up playing 4 encores before showering the audience with $250,000 worth of Champaine (the Band used the entire $250,000 signing bonus with Razorback on the extravagance) Malice spent the rest of the night driving around town partying with everyone who crossed their path.

Stay Tuned for the Next Installment Of Malice The Band Who Almost Killed Us All posting NEXT after this radically surreal piece by SpaceDog.

Thank for Reading,

Les Sober 

 

Malice The Band That Almost Killed Us All

This is the 2nd story I wrote working at DFF Magazine in 1991 for their August issue.

Malice isn’t one of those bands that was poised on the threshold of Fame, but never made it to the Big Time. Malice is a band that most people don’t remember and theres a reason for that. You see  Malice’s rise to International Fame was extremely rapid. In fact it was so rapid its considered a once in a lifetime phenomenon in the Music Industry. That combined with their Hardcore intensity on and off the stage Malice crammed a full 20 year career of Sex, Drugs and Rock’n Roll into just 2.  Malice was the epitome of “Live Fast, Die Young, and Leave a Good Looking Corpse.”

The Story of Malice started in Slaughters Kentucky when Drummer Robbie Rage met Bassist Vic Vile while they both were attending The Gus Hubbard School of the Vocational Arts. Rage was there learning the in and outs of welding while Vile was there learning the fine art of Landscape Maintenance. The two quickly became inseparable friends and decided to start a band together a Black Metal duo called Aborted Faith.

Vile managed to get  Aborted Faith a weekly gig on Friday Night’s at Lane’s Lanes a near by neighboring Bowling Ally. The Aborted Faith was going no where fast as playing in a cramped corner of the Bowling Ally Bar hidden behind a heavy cloud of cigarette smoke. Further more the open concept meant the band was constantly drowned out by the continuing Bowlers.

It was at one of these shitty shows when future guitarist Gar Fisch got stupid drunk and wondered over to where the band was playing and started playing along with them on air guitar. After the show Rage and Vile had a brief meeting and then promptly asked Fisch to join the band. Fisch took the guys up on their offer with one exception that they ditch the Black Metal schtick in favor of becoming a Hardcore Punk Band. Rage and Vile agreed to Fisch’s condition and their new band Stank Breath was Born.

Stank Breath went on to build up a local fan base by playing house party’s and by winning every “Battle of the Bands” that they entered. Stank Breath Shows were known be raucously violent fueled by Fisch’s outrageous stage antics (such as shoving high powered fireworks in his ass Actual M-80’s for example and lighting them) catapulted the Band even farther words fame. The only issue the band had was that they all seriously sucked at singing. After a late night of drinking Rage introduced the idea of hiring a singer to which both Gar and Vile agreed. So they put an Ad in a small music magazine, sat back, cracked a beer, lit a joint, and waited. Instead of getting plenty of replies by people who were no better vocalists than the rest of the band, They got no replies at all.

Pissed off and confused Rage and Fisch went on a beer run and outside of the liquor store pan handling was a rather tall and slim man with long greasy hair wearing a leather biker’s jacket. The man asked for spare change   as the two exited the store Fisch asked what the man needed money for to which the Man told Fisch he needed the money for Beer and Smokes. On a whim Rage asked the Man if by any chance he could sing worth a damn. As it turned out He could so Rage asked the Man his name and if he would be interested in joining the band. The Man said his name was Von Dire and since he had nothing better to do than beg for beer money he’d be glad to join the band.

It was after Dire’s joining the band in January 1988 that it once again changed their musical style to Heavy Metal and name to Malice. Not long after the switch Malice was killing it at the Minnesota “Battle of the Bad Ass Bands” in when Dire literally bumped into Clive Mangina who was the front man for competing Hair Metal Band known as Rectal Invasion at one of the plentiful Beer and Booze stations. This lead to one of the most heated and out of control Rock’n Roll Rivalries of all time. You see Clive was a snark and bitter little man with a raging Napoleon Complex who took great exception to Dire accidentally staggering drunkly into him in line.

Clive called Fisch a “Drunk Dickhead” and Fisch hauled off and head butted Clive. Clive went down like a ton of bricks with blood pouring out of his now broken nose. At this point the other members of Rectal Invasion saw what was going on and jumped in. Fish undeterred by being out numbered (5 on 1 as Rectal Invasion in addition to 2 guitarists, singer,drummer and bassist had a keyboardist (I told you they were Hair Metal so what did you expect?!) Fisch put up a good fight but ultimately he was overpowered by his 5 advisories. Rage and Vile who were vomiting exited the bathroom and immediately came to their fellow band mates aid. Rage ran around kneeing every member of Rectal Invasion repeatedly n the balls until they vomited. Vile proceeded too break $182.99 of the Bar’s glassware over the various heads of the members of Rectal Invasion.Von Dire broke several chairs across the backs and over the heads of Rectal Invasions members.  When inevitably the Police showed up with Billy Clubs a blazing everyone scattered like roaches when the light is turned on.

In spite  of the brawl Malice went on to win the Minnesota’s “Battle of the Bad Ass Bands” and just their luck Jerry Jerkin the owner of a local Record label was in the audience. Jerkin fell head over heels for the Band and enthusiastically signed them to a 3 record deal on his label RatFuck Records. Now RatFuck Records was home of other small time bands such as The Young Cocksmen, Guttural, and Spit Shine. Right away Jerkin booked them on a 10 show tour opening for fellow label members The Salty Yogurt Slingers. The “Mad As Hell” tour was set to hit the road just 2 days after Malice signed their contracts, but that was no problem for Malice. The entire band had been couch surfing at friends places and owned next to nothing.

The “Mad as Hell” tour went so well that Jerkins called up The Salty Yogurt Slingers and told them that they would now be opening for Malice since Malice was a bigger draw at this point. The Salty Yogurt Slingers responded by quoting the tour on the spot under great protest. Malice went on to finish the second half of the tour on with another RatFuck Records band Grind Spine. Malice built a huge following and was expanding their fan base faster than a Crackhead at an all you can smoke Crack Buffet. By the time Malice ended the tour (in the first week of February) they had racked up a slew of business cards from much larger record label reps.

Stay Tuned For Malice Part 2 Posting Next…..

Thanks for Reading,

Les Sober