Tag: hookers

Strange and Disturbing Videos: 00390

Welcome to yet Another Installment of Strange and Disturbing Videos featuring  00390 One of Youtube’s Darkest Mysteries. So without Further Ado let’s Jump on Down this Rabbit Hole Hand in Hand.

00390 Rumors, Hypotheses, and Outstanding Questions:

  • 00390 First Surfaced Online in November 2015, and is Still Currently Active.
  • After Six Years 00390 has Posted Over 100+ Videos
  • After Posting a String of Videos Viewers found Creepy and Disturbing.
  • Viewers Began to Speculate and Many came to Believe 00390’s Youtube Channel was in Fact being Run by a Stalker and Likely a Kidnapper.
  • As More Videos were Posted Viewers started to Believe 00390 wasn’t just into Stalking and Abductions. They began to hypothesis that 00390 was Actually a Real Life Serial Killer, but it Doesn’t End There.
  • One Strange Factor stood Out as Particularly Weird and that was the Handful of Video’s Sprinkled in with the Grimmer/Disturbing Content. These Video’s were of Food being Cooked.
  • All the Food Videos had Meat as it’s Primary Ingredient.
  • The Food Videos started the Rumor that 00390 was Not just a Serial Killer but a Cannibal as Well.

                  

  • The Cannibal Rumor was indeed Confirmed by 00390 in the Comments Section of the Video Doll House Working Test-Cooking Some Meat.
  • In the Doll House Video’s comment Section which Reads like a Recipy Under the Ingredient Referred to Simply as Meat 00390 States “For Meat: You Need a Girl.”
  • Due to Various Videos by 00390 like Exploring Summer Night Streets-Hookers that 00390 is Based Out of Europe. Also a Phrase that Appears on Screen at one Point in the Video in Italian and Translates into “Too Fat”.
  • While 00390’s Average Views Per Video is Around 2,000, but Exploring Summer Nights-Hookers has Racked Up a Whopping 1.7 Million Views. The Reason(s) for this Massively Drastic Difference in the Number of Views is Currently Unknown.

         

  • In Addition to the Already Addressed Information when You go to 00390’s About Page (the Cryptic and Antisocial Description) Appears First in English and then in Italian. Thus it’s Pretty Safe to Say 00390 calls Italy Home.
  • 00390’s About Page Verbatim:
“Do not subscribe, you bother me.
Non iscrivetevi, mi date fastidio.
Do not offer me money for affiliation or visualization or other, I’am not interested. At best offer me some typical food of your country.
Non offritemi soldi per affilizazioni o visualizzazioni dei video, non mi interessa. Al massimo offritemi qalche cibo tipico del vostro paese. Mi piacciono le ragazze fredde (ma vive).”
(Note to Reader: Based on the Cannibal Concept behind 00390 does “At best offer me some typical food of your country” mean Send Female Human Flesh from Your Home Country.)
                   

Now while You could if You wanted to go Check out the 100+ Videos by 00390, but I’ve searched through 00390’s Video Catalog. I ended up Selecting 10 of the Darkest/Creepiest Videos that Showcase the Aspects of 00390’s Videos mentioned above. Here is a List (Along with any Notes and Observations of Ours) of the Ten Video 00390 Sampling in the Order They Appear in:

  1. Pet Monster Forgotten Video: Who are These People Singing? Why are there Several Photos of Women Restrained and Gaged with Hearts Around Them?
  2. Exploring Summer Night Streets-Hookers: This is the Video that has racked up 1.7 Million Views as Opposed to the Average 2,000 per 00390 Video)
  3. Dressed Girl in the Bath Scared Screams: Is This a Possibly a Abducted Victim?
  4. Audi/Video Torture for Kidnapped Girl [Explicit and a Little Flashing]
  5. Old Footage-How to find a Girl: How to Find a Girl? How to Find/Stalk a Victim)
  6. How to Transport a Semi Unconscious Girl: Is This Staged? We don’t think so considering it be hard to go completely Limp like the Girl in the Video. Also at a couple of Points You can see Her feet moving Under Her own Power (Hence the Semi Conscious Part of the Title I Suppose.)
  7. From the Bar to the Basement-Lesson: This Video is a Distorted/Manipulated of the 2006 Comedy Movie School For Scoundrels staring Billy Bob Thornton .
  8. Girl Talk Too Much: This is Obviously Fake as Fuck. The Tongue in the Video is an Animal Tongue is more than likely a Cow’s.  If You look at it for more than a Moment You can see there is Absolutely No fucking Way on Earth that the Tongue would fit in a Human Mouth.
  9. Test_Sony a5100 Less Light: Is this Footage of a Captive Victim?
  10. Doll HouseStove- Working Test- Cooking Some Meat: The Glaring Question is Based on the Cannibalism Angle is this the Meat in the Video Actually Human Flesh?

    

Enjoy.

In Summation:

Well in Conclusion We believe these Videos are Strange, Disturbing, and Ultimately Fake. 00390’s Videos also Don’t appear to be Promotions for a Video Game or Movie since the Videos have been Posted over 6 Plus years. So Unless this is an “Axl Rose – Chinese Democracy” Situation the Promotion Angle makes No Sense. A Possibly Viable Reason for 00390’s Videos could be that this is Art Student or Visual Artist’s on Going Art Project.  Though I think there’s a Bit more to It. As Far as this being an ARG  it Very Well could be it, but I am Not 100% Convinced this is the Case.

I think this is simply Someone Who wants/likes  People Thinking/Believing that They’re some Insanely Psychotic Serial Killer and Crazed Cannibal straight out of a B-Horror Movie. The Point is I think 00390 is creating and Posting these Videos because He/She/They get a Kick Out of It.  Sometimes the Simplest Solution is Sufficient as Face Value has its Own Worth.

Thanks For Reading/Watching,

Presented By Les Sober  

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 (57/365)

Lee diverted His gaze towards the Front of the Bus were a Small Old Man who looked sickly thin almost skeletal. It reminded Lee of a Late Stage Alcoholic who has given up food to Ingest just Alcohol like His deceased Uncle Wilber. The Man was so thin His clothes though the Right size when the Man was Healthier now hung on His Feeble Frame like a Child trying on His Father’s Suit. The Oldman’s long mostly white and greasy hair was slicked back, and along with His scraggly beard both seemed only to exaggerate His Disheveled Appearance. The Old man Shuffled Heel-Toe past the Driver and sat down in the Seat directly behind the Driver.

As soon as the Old Man sat down He slumped forward so far Lee thought He might tumble head first onto the Bus Floor at the slightest bump or jiggle. The next thing Lee knew the Old Man started to Vomit though since He apparently hadn’t eaten in a Long While He was puking up a Vile combination of Bile, Stomach Acid, Cheap Booze, and an excessive amount of Saliva. The Man just continued to periodically vomit over and over again until His Lap was a Pool of Putrid Smelling Puke. The Vomit that had Pooled in the Old MAn’s Lap began to soak into His pants and the Over flow started to creep down the Man’s Trouser Leg like a Waterfall in Slow Motion. The Smell permitted the Bus from end to End as Passengers fumbled frantically to Open as Many of the Bus window’s as Possible. All the while the Driver acted absolutely Oblivious to the Human Vomit Fountain sitting behind Him only Inches away. Lee felt his gag reflex about to go Full Tilt on Him and He at last looked away from the Old Man and His Veracious Public Vomiting Episode.

           

“HEY! HEY! HEY!,” whispered Dizzy like an Excited Child, “Look over there the Bus Bunny is making Her Move. I fucking told you, I fucking so told You So!”

Lee shot a quick glance in the Direction of the Bus Bunny who had remained standing in the aisle next to the Tweeked Out Businessman idol chatting away. Now She moved so she was now standing in Front of the Businessman  as if She was simply passing by Him to the reach Window Seat. Then in the blink of an Eye the Bus Bunny transformed momentarily into some sort of Sex Ninja. In an Instant the Bus Bunny had Her Panties off and in Her purse, Mini Skirt Hiked Up, and was bouncing up and down on the Businessman’s Meth induced Boner all in one Foul Swoop. Lee’s turned His attention to the second set of Bus Door at the Back of the Bus as it pulled up to a Stop.

A Small group of perhaps 7-8 Very Stern looking Asian Men boarded the Bus, and moved immediately to the Back of the Bus occupying the Last several rows. As Lee looked on The Group of rather Grim looking Asian Men pulled out Large Rolls of Money, started counting out Different Amounts, and Handing them Back and Forth. The Eldest Member of the Group reached into a Bag had slung over His right Shoulder to retrieve a Bottle of Saki and what appeared to be Several Saki Cups. The Elderly Man placed the Bottle on the Floor of the Bus while he handed out the Saki Cups one by one to each member of the Group.

           

“What in the name of all things Strange is that all about?” asked Lee hoping Dizzy would have some sort of Insight into the Subject, and luckily Lee wasn’t Disappointed.

“Oh yeah that,” said Dizzy casually, “They’re coming from a Beta Fish Fight down in China Town.”

“What in the hell is a Beta Fish Fight?” Lee wondered aloud disregarding His surroundings.

“Well You know how We have Dog Fighting here in America Right? Well in Asia especially Thailand and Vietnam the Locals host Beta Fish Fights where People can Gamble on the Outcome,” replied Dizzy completely at ease, “Beta Fish are Cool looking, BUT they are Aggressive as a Motherfucker thats why in the Pet Stores they are Housed Solely by Themselves. If you put a Beta Fish in Your Tank they will not stop until they have killed every other fish in the Tank including Other Beta’s. Thats why Beta Fish Fights found a Home in Overseas Gambling.”

           

“Alright thats insanely nitrating, but that doesn’t explain the Slightly sweet smell wafting off of the Entire Group? Mind you its not a bad Smell just one I’m not Familiar with is all.” said Lee with a good deal of conviction.

“Opium. What Your smelling is Opium.” answered Dizzy without pause.

“They smoke Opium at Beta Fish Fights to?!” asked Lee in disbelief at what Dizzy had just told Him.

“No, No They don’t smoke it Nowadays, BUT all the basements and backrooms where the Beta Fish Fights are held used to be Opium Dens back in the Day,” Dizzy said with a Scholarly Air, “You see just like with Cigar Smoke Opium smoke lingered in the Rooms and slowly but surely permitted into the Wood Furniture, Wood Accents all that kind of Shit. Apparently they smoked so much fucking Opium that the Smell is not just noticeable at the Fish Fights but it can stick to the Attendees clothing and hair as well.”

            

Stay Tuned for the Next Pulse Racing Installment of………

LEE JONITIS: PROFESSIONAL PEOPLE WATCHER (58/365)

Thank for Reading,

  By Les Sober

Lee Jonitis: Professional People Watch Watcher (56/365)

Lee watched the Businessman trapped somewhere between being Entranced and Horrified. The Businessman’s Eyes started to Bulge out of His Head as His face became Flushed, and He began to sweat Profusely frantically wiping His Forehead every 3 seconds. Lee couldn’t help but to compare what He was seeing to Witnessing a 12 Foot Giant Choking the shit out of Someone with all its Might. Lee was rendered useless by Indecision almost instinctively nudged Dizzy’s Knee with His 40 oz to get His Attention.

Dizzy lazily turned to look at Lee to find Lee staring at Him Wide Eyed like had just seen Hitler fucking an Electric Eel or some Crazy Shit like that. Lee motioned with His eyes in the Direction of the Businessman, and Dizzy having a Phd in Street Smarts from The FUCK YOU University of Life picked up on the question instantly. He took a second before casting a sly glance in the Direction of where the Businessman before quickly turning back to face Lee.

“What? What the fuck has You so Shook for fucks sake I know the Bus is a Bitch, but You’re being a fucking Drama Queen about it aren’t You,” said Dizzy with thorough Lack of Interest or Enthusiasm., “Just spit it Out what is Going On with You already.”

           

“I just saw the craziest most fucked up thing I think I have ever seen.” replied Lee still in a minor state of Shock and Awe.

“So what was it I’m not fucking Sherlock Holmes here so You’re going to have to Spell it Out for Me.” said Dizzy in the Tone of a Parent who is growing frustrated with a Child who can’t seem to Communicate properly what was going on.

“The fucking Businessman over there that motherfucker just Shot Up something in a Syringe directly into His fucking Neck, and Now He looks like His Head is Literally going to fucking Explode like the Guy in the Movie Scanners,”Lee explained while getting Himself even more worked up, “Seriously who does shit like That and in Public none the less?!”

“He’s Tweeting Hard as Fuck,” Dizzy Answered, “He’s a fucking whacked Out on Crystal Meth. My Guess is since He was Cooking up the Shot secretly without looking He probably just put to Much in by Accident, and Now He’s becoming well aware of His Mistake.”

           

“So what the fuck do You do in this situation I mean do We Alert the Bus Driver or Call the Cops?” Lee asked as His Mind Became to Race a Mile a Minute.

“NEVER CALL THE COPS EVER,” Dizzy Yelled Loud enough for the Entire Bus to Hear, “And what the fuck do You think the Bus Driver is going to do with this Information? I’ll tell You She will pull the fucking Bus over, call 911, and The Police with Show up with the fucking Medics. The Best thing to do is fucking Ignore it because it’s simply NOT YOUR PROBLEM!”

“Jesus thats fucking Brutal,” Lee said in utter disbelief, “The fucking Guy very well may Die right where He’s sitting on this crappy Bus. What a shitty way to go I mean imagine the obituary So and So Overdosed and Died on the Number something Bus today.”

“Fuck that Guy We don’t know Him, and We sure as Hell had Nothing to do with Him injecting Drugs into His Neck,” replied Dizzy Dryly, “If He dies He Dies.”

           

It was then that Lee noticed a Trashily Dress Woman with far too much make up on who had been sitting in the front of the Bus get up out of Her seat, walk over to the Businessman and handed Him a Bottle of Water. The Businessman snatched the Bottle of Water from The Trashy Woman’s Hands and downed it in One massive prolonged Sip. The Bottle drained and Empty He promptly handed it back to the Trashy Woman who then tossed it nonchalantly on the Floor without a care in the World.

“Look, Look right fucking there,” Lee blurted Out emphatically, “That Woman a fucking Stranger just helped out the Tweeked Out Businessman. See at least someone fucking Cares about Their fellow Man.”

“Don’t be Fooled that had nothing to do with a Helping Hand I assure you of That,” responded Dizzy condescendingly, “It wasn’t personal it was all business Brother All fucking Business.”

“What fucking Business the Free Bottled Water Business seriously what the fuck,” said Lee growing rather exasperated with Dizzy’s carefree attitude, “I think You’re the fucking One being Dramatic.”

“Bullshit It was Business and You want to Know How I know this its because SHE isn’t a good samaritan She’s a Bus Bunny.” responded Dizzy with an Air of Arrogance.

           

“Bus Bunny what the fuck is that exactly because it sounds like You mad it Up to be Honest,” said Lee confusedly, “Now its Your fucking turn to tell Me what the fuck is going on Exactly.”

“She’s a Bus Bunny. You know How there Hookers that tool the Truck Stops called Lot Lizards Right,” explained Dizzy confidently, “Well this is the equivalent of a Lot Lizard but Bus Bunny’s a Hookers who ride the Buses all damn Day  it’s called Dicks for Dollars.”

“I find that extremely fucking hard to believe, But I have No definitive Proof that You bullshitting Me,” replied Lee sounding Defeated, “Stranger things have happen I suppose.”

“You Don’t need to take My word for it,” snapped Dizzy defensively, “Just keep You eye on Those Two and watch what Happens.”

           

Stay Tuned for the Next Extroverted Installment of………

LEE JONITIS: PROFESSIONAL PEOPLE WATCHER (57/365) Coming Soon!

Thanks for Reading,

  By 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 

Yet Another Reason Not To Visit Mexico

One day my good friend Danka and I were drinking on the stoop of Danka’s house playing the “Most Fucked Up Story Game”. The game is rudimentary and simplistic. The goal is to tell the most fucked up story of the evening thus becoming the winner.

Dana served a short time in the United States Navy before being discharged for being an Alcoholic who was “Derelict of Duty” or some stupidly phrased bullshit statement. You see Danka had a habit of going binge drinking while on shore leave which resulted in a semi concous Danka being dragged to returning to the ship for check in by his fellow soldiers. Finally Danka out did even himself by missing Check In in favor of chilling at some waitresses’s apartment he was hooking up with in Tijuana, eating Captain Crunch cereal, and watching American cartoons in Spanish. Well that was the final straw that broke the preverbal Camal’s back, and the Navy booted Danka instructing him never to return to any branch of the United States Military ever again.

Before being unceremoniously kicked out of the Navy Danka had spent several months down in Tijuana Mexico were he was temporarily stationed for some fucking Navy related reason. While in Tijuana Danka learned some  tactics for day to day safety and survival that weren’t taught in the Navy. It was simply how to navigate daily life in Tijuana without running into trouble with Thieves, Drug Dealers, Pimps, Gangs, Cartels, Muggers, Car Jackers, Con Artists, Drug Addicts, Hookers, Ex Convicts, Militias and Corrupt Cops.

Now with the corrupt Cops it was basic Extortion. If a Tourist per say wandered into the wrong neighborhood the Cops would arrest them, and then drive them directly to an ATM. The Police Officers would then demand a bribe of usually $300 U.S., BUT if you refused to pay they would take you to jail on some bullshit trumped up charge. While it goes without saying that Jail fucking sucks, and is one of the last places anyone would want to find themselves especially in a foreign 3rd World Country. Mexican Jails have a foul reputation for being filthy, over crowded, understaffed, Bribing of Guards, Murders, Rapes, and inhumane living conditions for the most part.

This is what happened to Danka’s buddy named Blackburn. Blackburn was on shore leave and had had a few drinks when he wondered off the main fairway into a shitty neighborhood. While desperately trying to find his way back, which was complicated by his intoxication, Blackburn was picked up by a couple of Corrupt Cops looking for a quick pay day. The Cops drove Blackburn to the ATM and demanded payment ($300 U.S. per Officer times 2 for a total of $600 U.S.), and Blackburn told them too fuck off because he wasn’t giving them a single goddamn cent. So the Cops threw Blackburn into the back of the squad car, but instead of taking him to the nearest shithole jail they drove him to a sleazy Dive Bar on the outskirts of the city that featured Nightly Donkey Shows (if you don’t know what a Donkey Show is Google it) The police shoved Blackburn into the dimly lit backroom of the Bar and tied him to a rickety wooden chair. The Police then proceeded to sell Blackburn to the Bar owner for $775 U.S. and then left quickly.

The Bar owner had one of his cronies take Blackburn out back to a Small Barn located next to the Bar. Once there Blackburn was stripped buck naked and tied to a barn post. The Bar Owner’s henchmen then ground up 3 or 4 bottles of Viagra and mix them with a quarter ounce of Crystal Meth. Once the concoction was full mixed together the Side Kicks laced a 32 ounce Corona with it, and then fed it to a Donkey that was penned up in a cramped stall. About 50 minutes later the Donkey had a raging 18 inch erection and was violently kicking the sides of the pen. One of the Cronies then untied Blackburn from the post, and then tied his hands behind his back while the other crony aggressively lassoed the inscenced Donkey. The 3 men and the doped up Donkey then made their way over to the Bar and entered through a side delivery entrance.

The Bar smelled like hot stale beer and body oder mixed with piss. There were a handful of patrons spread out through out the Bar that was so smoky it was like being trapped in a fucking mist or some shit. The Henchman responsible for Blackburn took him over to a worn out Pummel Horse that was held together with Duct Tape. He then bent Blackburn over the Pummel Horse and bound Blackburn’s wrists and ankles together. Next a shitfaced MC comes on a beat 1972 PA System to announce the Nightly Donkey Show is Starting. After a short pause to allow the Bar Patrons time to freshen their drinks and light a smoke the 2nd Henchman dragged the Donkey over fighting it every step of the way. As the Donkey was being brought over the Bar Owner came over to Blackburn and sprayed him with Female Donkey Pheromones and Menstrual Blood to get the deranged drugged up Donkey’s attention. It worked. It worked extremely well. In an instant the Donkey got a whiff of Blackburn and galloped over to him, and mounted Blackburn placing its front legs on Pummel Horse on either side of Blackburn. As soon as the Donkey penetrated Blackburn it went fuck wild, this Donkey wasn’t playing “Just The Tip” with Blackburn he was slamming shaft balls deep in Blackburn’s battered butthole. It took about 17 minutes before the Donkey finally completed and its semen was seeping out of Blackburn’s broken butthole like a garden hose.

Blackburn was about to be loaded into a car and left to die of his injuries in the Desert to die when the a group of American Military Police busted in the front door of the Bar with a vengeance. Blackburn had to be taken out on a fucking stretcher and Medivaced by Helicopter to a Special Surgical Trauma Hospital in Seattle Washington. Blackburn lived after spending the better part of a year in the Hospital where the Surgeons removed just over 8 feet of his intestines, rebuilt his bowls, reconstructed his rectum, and stitched up his sphincter. Blackburn was discharged from the Navy Under Section 8 Status due to his Donkey Rape induced PTSD. He moved home to Shasta South Dakota and lives in his Mom’s basement on permanent disability watching Anime while drooling on himself while playing with his pecker making guttural sounds.

Needless to say there was no fucking way I could top that Tale of Terror in Tijuana so Danka went home that night quite drunk and the most fucked up story winner.

Thanks For Das READ,

 

Les Sober 

The Delinquent Detective Ep.1 : Screaming at a Deaf Dog

Heads Up For Readers: There is a good bit of obscene language and blasphemies contained within this piece.
Rock Hard woke with a startle one hand one his set of bulbous brass balls, and in the other empty bottle of Lithuanian Whisky.
The goddamn phone was ringing relentlessly BRING! BRING! like a goddamn banshee. Rock sat up and wearily rubbing his face trying to dispel the thick fog of yesterday.
Rock was no stranger to the endless trials and tribulations of life not by a long shot. Bullshit was his bread and butter.
Rock slowly made his way to the phone his feet shuffling across the thick scummy orange shag carpet barefoot.
Rock lit a cigarette irritated that some dumb son of a bitch had the fucking nerve to call him this early in the goddamn day. Rock reached the phone and unplugged it. Whoever it was fuck them thought Rock to himself.
Finally Rock thought to himself. Rock found people to be unbelievably irritating at best.
Rock proceeded to get ready for the dismal day that lay before him. Once Rock had shit, showered, and shaved Rock headed out to the office.
Locking the door behind him he started down the hall of The Royal Hotel lined with various delinquents. The monthly crew of cantankerous characters that inhabited The Royal Hotel, one of the BigCity’s finest flop house, was an unending revolving door of debauchery.
Rock tolerated these assholes because in a flea bag shithole no one sees shit, hears shit or says shit especially the police.
The residents of The Royal were the lowest of the low. There were junkies, hookers, pimps, cults, drunks, drug dealers, shut ins, welfare cases, white trash, Neo Nazi’s (that hangout at the lobby bar), traumatized Vietnam vets, thieves, bikers,and the mentally ill with no family.
It wasn’t always that way though. Back in its heyday The Royal played host to musicians, writers, artists, film makers running the entire gamete of the art world.
Business men booked suites for their corrupt conferences where they found ways to fuck over the working man. The staff was professional and proud to be part of The Royal.
Now Tina “Two Tits” Earner the local hooker was constantly prowling for pricks in the Hotels shitty dive-like bar. Homeless Hank the blocks beloved gutter dwelling bum was living in the lobby. The rest of The Royal was a fucking freak show a goddamn insane circus.
Ignoring the nasty noises of fighting and fucking that bled through the paper thin walls Rock made his way to the downstairs. Rock stopped briefly to shoot the shit with the front desk clerk.
The clerk was an anciently old man who worked the front desk and had for 52 years named Barnabas.
“Whats going on you nasty old bastard?” Rock asked casually with no real interest.
“I’m just a goddamn gargoyle perched on this goddamn stool watching the derelicts and dopers coming and going, it’s an endless parade of the broken and disheveled . Once the sun sets the city streets flood with sinners,” replied Barnabas weirdly staring off into space.
Rock stared at Barnabas wondering if he was senile or just being a mean old shit .
Rock walked briskly to the front door to escape the scum of the Earth confined within the rancid Royal.
Before exiting Rock checked to make sure he had his two faithful companions with him his flask and his revolver. Once he had established he was in possession of both Rock burst out on to the street.
Rock waded through the littered streets coated in filth and grim. The bums lurking in doorways like living corpses that had abandoned all hope in humanity.
The hookers were returning home after a long cold night on the street selling their souls as well as their snatches.
Junkies posted on the corners heckling change from the few regular folk who hadn’t fled the dying neighborhood bathed in decay.
Over laying graffiti adorned the street plastered across walls and any available space was now coated in spray paint.
Rock didn’t mind the dereliction in fact he welcomed it. People are parasites that don’t belong in palaces was his opinion.
At least when your deep in the shit surrounded by the dregs of society you know where you stand.
There is honesty in hooliganism. You can take everything at face fucking value, no bullshit required.
Rock chain smoked a whole pack of cigarettes on his wayward walk to work. So what if smoking led to fucking cancer Rock didn’t give a rats ass what the Surgeon General had to say on the subject.
Rock picked up a couple of new packs of smokes at newspaper stand around the corner from his office. Rock’s office was a located in the Burner building within walking distance from The Royal.
The Burner was a small building sandwiched between to sky scrappers. The Burner had always been a mega for unorthodox and unconventional professions such as psychics, weapons dealers, and in Rock’s case Private Detectives.
As he approached the front door of his office on the 3rd floor of the Burner he saw a person pacing in the dimly lit hallway.
Rock was already wondering what the stranger was all about when the stranger turned towards him and said……………

To Be Continued in
The Deviant Detective Ep.2 : Getting Directions from the Blind.

Catalog Of Humanity (The Vile Version)

The once grand city fell into the continuing chaos of decades of decay,

The businesses and those with money have abandoned this sickening city,

The whores loitering outside of the local liquor store looking for love,

The strung out narcotic zombie working the corner cleaning windshields to feed his abominable addiction,

The open festering sores that line the limbs of the homeless,

The panhandler suffering through withdraw from drink or drug fidgeting in the door way of a flea bag motel,

The flop house littered with junkies cooking up and shooting up nodding their nightmares away,

The constant flickering of lighters from the derelict row home windows reminiscent of fire flies as the crack pipes burn on,

The entire city is a cess pool engulfed in the putrid stench of a sewer,

The crooked cops riding around in the streets high on their own brutality like Nazis scumbag sons of bitches,

The dirty little convince stores selling single cigarettes and lottery scratchers to the soulless and the suffering,

The dim florescent glow from dive bars windows beckoning the bums inside for a glass of piss poor beer,

The screaming machinery bellowing like a banshee from the chop shops,

The junkyard dogs chained up in yards of dirt, clumps of weeds, and piles of its own shit,

The pimps perched like perverted gargoyles waiting to be paid by their beaten and broken bitches,

The asshole teenagers from the suburbs driving into the city to prey on the unfortunate,

The drug dealers posting up on the street corners peddling potent poisons,

The gangs who wage an endless war of horror over disputed territories,

The bouncer ejecting a greasy client from the shadows of a back room illegal casino,

The overlapping layers of spray paint so thick one can’t tell the walls original color,

The plagues of rats and roaches devouring the city turning it into shit,

The cold gray fermentable walls of the State Prison looming large casting its silhouette across the southern side of the city,

The now defunct factories slowly rotting away in the winds of time,

The dead Vietnam vet who overdosed in his cardboard condo decomposing as his body waits to be found,

The piles of foul garbage that choke up the entrances to allies,

The deep brown tap water thats murky like mud,

The squatters that inhabit the vast city cemetery emerge under the dark cloak of the encroaching night to forage for food,

The front stairs of the court house teems with lawyers and defendants debating their legal fates,

The Public assistance offices are over crowded and under staffed as the government gives up on the poor,

The sea of condoms that surround the dumpster out back of the check cashing store where hookers trade in dick for dollars,

The methhead on a 4 day bender thats furiously fucking a dead pigeon in the desolate park,

The the old deranged mentally ill man who wonders the streets arguing with himself and losing,

The inhabitants of tent city sit around their make shift fires roasting their catch of stray cats for diner,

The bankrupt arena the city built without proper parking at the corner of Rape and Heroin,

The drunken man beating his kids since he wore out his wife before his tv diner,

The dead and the dying wallowing in squalor and their lost faith,

The cries of an unwanted baby unceremoniously deposited in a garbage dumpster by a terrified teenage mother,

The distinct crunch of empty crack files mixed with broken beer bottles under ones feet as they walk down the street,

The nightly fist fights that break out in the city’s central soup kitchen,

The crumbling churches now just idle monuments to a bygone god,

And this city of shit could be any city, all cities dying from industrial death,

And forgotten by history and humanity alike.

I Was A Teenage Murder Junkie Part 1 of 2

The first time I heard “Bite It You Scum” by G.G. Allin and The Murder Junkies, I was standing in the dungeon-like basement of The Barfly Lounge somewhere in the bowels of Philadelphia’s less then desirable south side, which was the only venue that would host a G.G. Allin and The Murder Junkies show. I was with my two work partners in crime Mike (a photographer) and Chuck ( Event liaison) who had found out about the concert the previous month while visiting Chuck’s sister who lived on South Street in Philly. This was the pre-internet era so the only way for unsigned bands to promote their shows was papering every free surface with flyers up and down the street. They also relied heavily on the power of word of mouth. It was one of those flyers, tacked to a telephone pole, that Chuck saw as he was walking down the street on his way to buy a pack of cigarettes. We decided it was a show that was a once in a life time chance not to be missed. So Chuck had approached our editor Vincent V. at “Grind Spine” magazine where all three of us were currently working while taking some time off before college.
We had made the hour long drive over to Philly from Gitsville NJ in Chuck’s car which in all due favor was a complete junker. The driver’s door shook so bad you thought at any second it would pop open. The speedometer was not to be trusted. There was a hole in the floor board. The radio only got one AM station, and the car seemed to have a front head light that was eternally out. When we arrived at the bar there was no appropriate parking so we had to park on the street four blocks away and walk. The corners were inhabited by hookers and drug dealers. The streets were lined with litter and more than a few homeless panhandlers. This was the type of neighborhood that if you drove through it you wouldn’t stop at red lights. Finally, we got back to the bar unscathed and in one piece, and then the door man (who looked to actually be a local biker) barely glanced at ID’s before letting us in with the stern warning “You guys don’t start any shit and I won’t have to beat the shit out of you.”
After such nice parting words from the doorman, the three of us shuffled single file through the narrow doorway of the bar. The Barfly Lounge was a small and rather cramped 500 square feet with an L shaped bar to the left. The right side of the room hosted a motley crew of tools, chairs, and wobbly tables. The only apparent patrons in the bar looked like a small group of local regulars from the surrounding neighborhood most sitting hunched over at the bar, a beer clutched tightly in one hand, and either a lit cigarette or shot glass in the other. The lighting in the bar was well beyond dim as the few spare lights that hung from the ceiling were enveloped in a thick pungent cloud of smoke that hovered like a smog cloud over Los Angeles. The thing I will remember most about The Barfly till the day I die was the overwhelmingly putrid stench, a vile smelling mix of stale beer, body odor, cigarette smoke and what we all assumed to be vomit.
“The show is in the basement. The door is in the back, next to the restroom.” said the bartender in a deep gravely voice reminiscent of Tom Waits. We slowly made our way to the back of the bar trying to see where we were going in order to avoid tripping or worse, falling onto the cesspit of a floor, and as we walked by a few of the weary down trodden customers lifted their heads just enough to stare at us as we passed. The door to the basement was a hideous dark green and had a thick greasy coat of nicotine . We cautiously proceeded down the bare concrete stairs I couldn’t help thinking that I had seen plenty of horror movies that started like this. We entered the gloomy basement which smelled so heavily of mold and mildew you had to wonder how being in this environment could negatively affect your respiratory system. We had come to far to turn back. The only light in the dank basement were the stage lights which were actually quite intense with a white light that almost felt like when you stared into the sun as a kid. Rusty exposed pipes hung from the ceiling several had been patched with duct tape and were in various stages of deterioration. There were only a handful of people lingering around waiting for the show to start in growing impatience. There was a thin lanky man about six foot two who looked like he weighed 160 pounds soaking wet and was no doubt a junkie, but he was a junkie selling 16 ounce cans of Budweiser for $3.00 a piece out of a couple of dirty igloo coolers at his feet to fund his heroin habit. Suddenly the The Murder Junkies (G.G. Allin’s last backing band before his death in 1993)  wandered lazily onto the stage where the bassist and guitarist plugged in their instruments and did a quick tune up. The drummer came out completely naked fully having earned the nickname Dino The Naked Drummer (who played naked so while drumming his clothes wouldn’t chafe his skin) and sat down behind the drums looking a bit lost as usual. It was then I became aware as I was watching the cliches and stragglers about fifty people or so had piled into the basement behind us, but were standing at the back of the room the farthest they could from the stage. The band all of a sudden launched full tilt into one of their signature songs “Bite It You Scum” and the crowd went feral. A young man who identified himself as Unk asked if we had been to a G.G. Allin show before and we said no we hadn’t. Unk went on to tell us he had found the safest place to be at G.G. Allin shows and that was behind him. No sooner had Unk finished speaking than the man referred to as the most spectacular degenerate in rock-n-roll history took the stage.