But first some sour grapes!
Usually if you think everyone you ever meet is crazy, it's usually self-introspection that acknowledges it's really you that's crazy. Go buy a sense of humor and get an extraction for that stick jammed in your bum, this stuff's as funny as you can make a depressing life. I'll make myself laugh at my own misery. One serving coming up...
AIN'T THAT A KICK IN THE PANTS?!
I thought for a moment that that the force of gravity had somehow got heavier. But the starched, creased blue pants of the ten knees laying their angst into me was the real cause of this primeval act of suffocation. The cops had me pinned. I could read each shoe print left since the building's construction on the tile my face was planted in.
After they realized I may have had a reputation of a 500-pound steroid guzzling, Creatine snorting gorilla -- but at that time I boasted 128 pounds of skinniness -- they took their piss-shined boots off my back and neck. Plus the face. I spit a few chunks of tile out from my evening dinner thanks to those badge wearing puff fishes.
The dumb face G.D. that coaxed me to bring his 200 pounds of turd here by fingering my last heart string shouted his guilt. They asked me a few questions. I gave them nothing. I really couldn't talk after the linoleum sandwich they fed me.
To Add Insult to My Misery
I could still hear the fat porpoise screaming about his damn stab wounds. Give it up already, butter neck. Can you die already?!
As soon as I blew outside the door and saw my gold gaudy pimp mobile with my people in it -- my strut kicked in like Shaft at the player's ball. Only if a big gust of wind would have come by at the time -- I would have blown onto someone's car and become a hood ornament.
Since I only care for two hours at a time...
This all helped me write stories later on that stingy producers who couldn't pick a good script out of a magical golden hat if it's the only one in there, wouldn't see. Or they lacked the balls to make something that's edgy that doesn't deal with transgenders, bestiality, or good ole fashioned necrophilia. Batter up!
Sorry, releasing the pressure valve from the tension. My number 1 enemy clung to his life. That knocked him out from challenging our mob of Vice Lords. Which one of my 122 enemies wanted to step up and take his spot was a mystery then...
Then as if I had some epiphany...
... an epiphany of electricity, like Tesla or Westinghouse smoking on a joint during an electrocardiogram, I realized I was my own worst enemy. Cliche aside, it spoke truth like the bible at a Sunday morning service.
So as not to disappoint myself in that prognosis, I stepped up drugs, prostitution, and anything else I could fit my Cheerio-sized ass into. I kicked Snaggles up to the roof. And took control. Of her house. Well, Snaggles, the crack-smoking Aunt, didn't care for my commandeering her property. Then her nephew needed a beat down for allowing some meth head into the lair. Pick your tooth up in the corner.
The Fall Cometh
I brought so much heat on myself you could hear cop's radios outside asking if they had a visual on me. They rented an apartment perpendicular to my pleasure palace to keep their peeping Tom's on me. We could see the red camera light from the roof in their window. None of them would graduate to be a stellar detective who washes in badge in the brine of bad guys. They should have covered the light.
The family affair -- literally. Probably incest, I don't know. But the Aunt and Nephew dipped into the coke stash.
That combination of the beat down, theft, and taking over her house without signing an lease agreement made them want to hang me from their family tree. Snaggles talked smack. Her nephew acted tough on the phone to me when I was out dealing, so I came home to play Glo-Mop with their faces. They barricaded themselves upstairs and called the cops on me. I left until the tumbleweeds came home. I knew they wouldn't let the place get searched -- Snaggles had too much paraphernalia and dope crumbs lying around that she needed to siphon out of the carpet with her chapped skeletal lips as crack vacuum cleaners.
RELEASE ONE LOAD IN MY PANTS
There were guns and drugs in the house with a triple beam -- yeah, still used those back then outside of science class. I had a gun and a few sacks of ammunition in the car I drove over to my house that I stole from Snaggles to unleash the beasts of wrath on them. And collect my hoodie goodies.
A shooting happened up the street. Whether I was in on it or not -- I'd be blamed.
Police bum rushed me as I came across the hub of the westside right across from Snaggles last house on the left..
The legacy and my freedom was doomed.
