suburbia – f-your blog

Salute To Eccentrics First Ever Follow Up: IvySavage aka VERDUYNETAL!

As some of you may be aware that just a while ago I did my first official a FYB Salute to Eccentrics featuring Verduynetal, and now I have returned with an FYB First. As far as I am aware this is the very first time FYB has done a follow up post on a previous Salute to Eccentrics.

I fucking deplore repeating myself but if you haven’t seen the previous Verduynetal post (or just plain don’t want to) here is a brief recap. Someone tipped me off to this YouTube Channel Verduynetal and when I checked it out I had my first real feeling of deja vu. It was a truly strange feeling as I stared at a complete stranger while feeling like somehow I did actually knew them yet I couldn’t remember for sure How I knew them. Anyway while reviewing the video content had a break through moment and realized that I did in deed know who this person was. As it turned out we grew up in the same shitty suburban bullshit town, and attended the same shitty high school (though she was a couple of years ahead of me).

I mentioned in the original Verduynetal post that a friend of mine actually dated Verduynetal way back in the day. I decided to hunt down my old friend Kurt and see if I could pick his brain a bit to see if I could jog any memories. Well that idea failed because as it turned out Kurt had died of a drug overdose 2 years earlier. Left to my own devices I have spent a good deal of time racking my brain trying to remember anything I possibly could about this phantom from my past. Luckily my memory is half way decent and I contacted Spacedog to see if he could recollect anything on the subject.

After hours upon hours of deliberating Spacedog and I managed to compile the following information on Venduynetal. First off she has a younger brother named Josh who is her polar opposite if there ever was one. Where Venduynetal was a complete fucking train wreck of a person Josh to his credit was a proper preppy. He got good grades, had several extracurricular activities, a bunch of friends, was positive, and had his shit together. I image her little brother has since moved as far away as he possibly could from his fucked up family. Speaking of family there was her parents. She lived in their house but neither Spacedog or I ever met, seen, or said a cursory hello to Venduynetal’s Dad. I mean for all intents and purposes he may as well have been dead and buried though I don’t think he was dead (at least at the time anyways). I remember seeing her mom once and that she kind of creeped me out since she didn’t say a single fucking word the entire time though she kept staring at me relentlessly.

As for Venduynetal Spacedog and I pretty much remembered the same shit. Venduynetal was a punk rock with the asshole attitude to match. She was one of those people that believed everything they said to be the undisputed truth, and if you didn’t agree with her then you were a fucking moron. She was outwardly angry and aggressive since she had some sort of chip on her shoulder though I don’t know why. She grew up in SUBURBIA in an UPPER MIDDLE CLASS NEIGHBORHOOD and never wanted for anything as her mom enabled the hell out of her allowing her to act like an out of control asshole.

Without consequences your kids grow up from being crappy kid into an asshole of an adult. Venduynetal was a drama queen who had to create shit to be pissed at because her life in reality wasn’t shitty at all. I mean no one likes authority figures as a teenager, but Venduynetal thrived on emotional chaos and assorted bullshit creating Mountain ranges out of mole hills just to have something to rage against. Bottomline SHE was the cause or creator of all her perceived problems. She got off on being the town’s self proclaimed most outrageous outcast as the mother of all misfits, and apparently she decided this was her niche, dug in, and never left.

That was all there was to the story until Spacedog found an extremely interesting additional piece of information. I mentioned in the original Venduynetal post that I had a sneaking suspicion Venduynetal’s name was Ivy as indicated in a couple of her video titles. I was right in real life she goes by Ivy Savage which is obviously not the name that appears on her birth certificate. Ivy Savage is part of the ongoing idolization of all things punk which she apparently made up for herself (I do know her real name first and last, but this is FYB so I’m not saying anything as per Les). You might be wondering how I came to know of the Ivy Savage angle and the answer is simple. Spacedog went and searched the name Ivy Savage on Youtube and LOW AND BEHOLD he discovered a Second Channel titled IvySavage (no spaces). So with this little kid bit of information I damn well knew I would have to most definitely do a fucking follow up post so here we go.

IvySavage:

This channel actually pre dates the Venduynetal channel by approximately 3 months. I don’t know why she just didn’t rename her channel instead of creating a second one but what the fuck right.
The IvySavage channel joined on November 6, 2008.
The Channels has 22 videos in total posted.
There are 30 subscribers.
Channel Description: GO TO VERDUYNETAL CHANNEL PLEASE. ITS MY OTHER CHANNEL. (What surprised the fuck out of me was she actually said please which isn’t to punk rock now is it?!).
There 3 reoccurring themes:Finding Hitler/Nazis funny, insomnia and prescription medications used to treat a variety of mental disorders.

One video that stuck out in particular was the video titled Creative with as much as is left 7 16 10 001. This video was shot solely by accident as Ivy enters a drug store to pick up some medication. While the video sums ass visually because the camera is all over the place it the AUDIO that I find most fascinating. Since this video was filmed by accident when the camera was on without Ivy’s expressed knowledge we can see what she is really like. What I mean by this is Ivy’s other videos she’s playing it up for the camera.
Another video that was particularly captivating in its oddity is the video titled cigarette break. What’s weird here is where the fuck Ivy is and who are the 3 additional people (other than ivy and her camera man) exactly? At first I thought she was at work, but it appears to me that she is attending some sort of program for people with more severe cases of mental illnesses.
We learn that her on again off again camera man is named Christopher in the video titled Instructional video on how to use Ivy’s door. Christopher for his part seems absolutely infatuated with Ivy somewhere between puppy love and a stalker like obsession.

Over all Ivy’s videos (like Verduynetal’s) fall into to categories the first being she is trying way to hard to be edgy/shocking/outrageous/defiant. The second are the videos where she honestly seems to slowly be unraveling mentally on the verge of crisis or is HEAVILY (and perhaps OVER) MEDICATED.
It also appears that the people Ivy associates with are all on psych meds too leaving me to wonder if she did meet them at a program for those with serious cases of mental health issues. This isn’t just because Ivy and company talk a good bit about different head meds, and they seem to know what they are talking about (they seem experienced in the subject). In the video titled Extinct…Like the kiwi Ivy literally says “Did you take your meds today, I sound like my mom.” to which her friend responds with the same question posed to Ivy. They then both attest to taking their meds that day.

HERE WE GO BETTER STRAP IN FOR THIS ONE!

That’s it so I’ll see you around,

Justin Sane

Davey on Acid and The Friendly Ass Biter

It was a Mildly Pleasant Summer Day in Suburban Hell when I met up with My partner in Crime Armenian who just so happened to have some Seriously Intense LSD. Since there was never anything to do (which explains all the Drug Use) in Our Tiny Town so We had to be Creative.

On this Day Armenian and I decided to visit an Acquaintance of Ours named Davey. I say acquaintance since We weren’t actually Friends, but We knew each other because We moved in the same Social Circles. I expressed the interest in seeing what Davey would be like on Acid, and thus Our Plan for the Day materialized. I called Davey who was Home and had nothing in particular to do and had No Objection to Hanging Out. Armenian and I then rode Our Dirt Bikes over to Davey’s since We had Our Driver’s Licenses, BUT Neither of Us had a Car.

We showed up at Davey’s a little after Noon to find Him tooling around on His Skateboard in His Driveway. We loitered in the Driveway contemplating what the fuck to do Next since We were in the Possession of Intense LSD, and Davey’s Parents were Home. We didn’t want to Drop Acid at Davey’s thats for fucking sure. There is nothing more awkwardly fucked up than having to Deal with Your or a Friends Parents while Your Tripping Face.

Again not have a Car impeded Our Prospects greatly to say the least. In the End We did the Only thing We could think of because the other issue at Hand was We were all Broke as Hell, and that was to take a Walk. With Our plan now in place We took the Acid, and made Our way to the Woods that bordered Davey’s Neighborhood since it was Secluded. The last thing We wanted was to be aimlessly wondering the Streets were We were vulnerable and could run into other People like Davey’s Neighbor’s, Assholes from Our High School, The Pissy Police, Little Kids, Pets, the Elderly, and Landscapers for example.

By the time We had leisurely strolled over to the Woods the Acid was beginning to kick in Big Time. The disassociating of Reality and Distortion of Time started to Set in along with the Nervous Excitement for the Hallucinatory Adventure ahead of Us. We haphazardly made Our way to a small clearing in the Woods that was utilized by The Teens of Town for Underage Drinking and Smoking Pot. Once We reached the Clearing thats exactly what We did We smoked several joints as the Acid took Full Effect.

We collectively made the Decision that We should leave the Clearing before some other Partiers Showed up. We thought it be best to head down to the near by Creek, Yet We were having a Great Deal of Trouble Locating it as Hallucinations made it Hard to get One’s bearings as You might imagine. After stumbling around and over one another We located a Path (at least at the Time it appeared to be a Path) and figured We were Lost because We hadn’t remember there was in fact a Path We could follow that would lead Us down to the Creek We were seeking for So Diligently.

As We were walking along I pulled a Bur (one of thoseCircular fuckers with all the Prongs) off of My Pant Leg. Armenian who was walking beside Me informed Me I had come in Contact with an Ass Biter. At that point I asked the Only Pertinent question Asking if said Ass Biter was Friendly or Hostile?! To My relief Armenian respond by saying that the Ass Biter in question was indeed Friendly. I looked and saw Davey walking a good bit ahead of Us and still mulling the Bur over between My fingers I thought it be absolutely fucking Hilarious to Toss the Bur at Davey.

Once I lobbed the Bur at Davey I yelled “FRIENDLY ASS BITER!” to for Shits and Giggles. Now I don’t know where Davey’s Head was at the moment I threw the Newly Dubbed Friendly Ass Biter at Him, BUT I think it was Safe to assume He wasn’t in a good Head Space. As soon as I made My Exclamation Davey turned to Look at Me and then took off as Fast as His fucking Feet could take Him off the Path and headlong into the Woods. Armenian and I called after Him letting Him know it was a Joke and He wasn’t in any danger at all, Yet Davey couldn’t be dissuaded and just kept Hauling Ass.

Armenian and I took off in pursuit of Davey but We eventually Lost sight of Him as We got more and more turned around. Then Armenian heard the sound of the Creek and thought it be a Prime spot for Davey to run off to and I agreed. We followed the sound of Flowing Water until We came to the Creek, and We found Davey standing Waist Deep in the fucking Middle of the Creek. Davey was holding completely still like a Statue all accept for His eyes which were Darting back and forth from Bank to Bank as if The Ground was Alive and expected it to Snatch Him Up at any Second.

Armenian asked Davey what exactly He was doing to which Davey replied that Friendly Ass Biters couldn’t Swim and thus were Terrified of Water. I told Davey he needed to get the fuck out of the Creek so We could find Our way out of the fucking Forrest. Davey refused to move Firmly His Ground and the more I tried to get Him out the More Davey dug Himself in. I looked at Armenian with a “What the fuck do We do Now” expression plastered across it.

Armenian to His credit snapped into Action and told Davey that the Government had be Alerted to the Plague of Friendly Ass Biters. And since the Government was made Aware of the Threat had Planes fly over all Wooded Areas and Spray a Non Toxic Anti Ass Biter Agent. This Water Based Agent had been Highly Effective as the Government had just Announced that all Friendly Ass Biter had been utterly Eradicated. Armenian’s bullshit story worked like a Charm and Davey came lumbering out of the Creek without Question.

We made Our way out of the Woods and back to Davey’s which took God knows how long to Achieve. Once at Davey’s His Dad had left to go Golfing or some other dumb ass Suburban Dad Horseshit, and His Mom was putting Davey’s Baby Brother down for a Nap. We took advantage of this and had Davey run inside and retrieve His Cordless Phone which He did flawlessly without freaking out or getting distracted, or just plain forgetting what He was doing. We managed to finally get a hold of a Friend who had access to a Car who came and Picked Us up. We then bummed a Ride to Our Local Mall, BUT thats a Story for Another Day.

Thank 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

One of the Strangest Memories of Mine from Childhood

When I was growing up I attended a Private School from kindergarten through 8th grade, but this wasn’t in any way to do with my family having money. My father was the Head of the English Department so I got a free ride that I never wanted. Part of this elitist idiots institution of privilege was that they had an ice skating rink so ever winter for P.E. we would walk over and ice skate for class. Now knowing that kids grow quick and that outside of P.E. I’d never use them my father found away around needlessly spending money on new ice skates. He quite simply located a man who lived near by who rented ice skates during the winter months.

The elderly gentlemen who ran the rental operation ran it out of his house. Now I can’t tell you what the house even looked like as we always went after dark, but in all due fairness it gets dark by 5 p.m. during winter. What I remember is the following. I remember my father making a right hand turn off a residential street and driving down a short driveway were he parked the car. Once we got out of the car the house was on the left and when you looked over you saw your basic 2 car garage with a plain old run of the mill white exterior door. We would enter through the plain white door into a completely dark area about the size of your average closet. To the right once you stepped through the door was a doorway that led to a set of steps (approximately 5-6 steps in total) that we’ed walk down into base of the operation if you will. The room was dimly light by outdated and well worn florescent lights who’s originally sterile soul sucking silent office light had degraded into a flickering odd shade of grey with a loud humming buzz. The floor was bathed in a 1970’s Ultra Shag carpet of dark brown with flecks of deep yellow and orange through out. The walls were completely bare with off white paint that during countless years had developed a time worn yellowing. The only other thing in the entire room was a home made wood bench that was wrapped around the walls and had some poor excuse for padding. There was a small laundry room directly across from the steps that housed a washer, dryer and an ice skate sharpening machine like the one you see at regular ice skating rinks. There was in fact a 3rd room but we will get back to that in a minute.

Once you sat down on the bench it was vertically identical to buying shoes. The Old man probably mid 60’s standing about 6 feet 3 inches tall wearing a plaid shirt, suspenders, work pants (Dickies) and a pair of beat down construction boots would gather up 3 or 4 pairs of skates. After collecting the skates he would walk over and kneel down as you tried on the skates he would lace them for you. While lacing and unlacing the skates until finding the right pair would exhale heavily through his nose periodically like a long nasal sigh. Now I don’t believe this was out of discomfort (i.e. old joints, bad knee etc) or emotion (anger,irritating,disgust etc.) ,but rather a peculiar personal trait the man developed over his life time, and more then likely wasn’t even aware at his advanced age he was even making a noise. Once the correct and proper pair of ice skates was found the Old man would collect the rental fee and that was that until returning them in Spring.

Now remember that 3rd room I said we’ed get back to well we’re back to it. See just like with shoes you have to walk around a bit in a pair of skates as you would a pair of shoes to insure they fit correctly. I had always wondered since the beginning of these yearly rentals exactly where the skates to be rented where. So while testing out a pair of skates one year to see in they fit I got up enough nerve to really walk around the room. I normally you see would only take a few steps as not to be too far from my father or the exit door as I found the whole situation creepy as shit as a kid, and as I write this I have the same feeling. As I walked around the room I noticed there was a slight 3 foot long extenuation coming out of the wall to create a degree of privacy, (I don’t know why someone would build a basement with a privacy wall of sorts unless your a serial killer) and around on the other side was the 3rd previously unseen room. I teetered and wobbled around until I could see in the 3rd room and what I saw is the strangest part of the story. The large room was filled to capacity with pairs of ice skate, hundreds upon hundreds of them like it was the Fort Knox of ice skates. There were pairs of skates lying side by side in row after row covering the entire floor, and there were cubbies lining the walls from the floor to the ceiling each one housing a pair of ice skates.

To this day my one and only question has created plentiful hypothesizes BUT NEVER answered is simply “Where the Hell did this Old Man get Hundreds and Hundreds of pairs of ice skates?” How did he amass so many pairs? This question alone only brings more questions and no answer.