Adios Animals

Great. In addition to having to get rid of my dog I get to throw away my plants in my jar aquarium and euthanize my fish and shrimp. I can't have an aquarium in a homeless shelter. I've had them for almost four years but now I get to kill them. My dog deserved better than me. Eve my fish deserved better. That's what I get for being a LOSER. 
 

Donut Panic?

 Totally out of the blue a guy I hardly know agreed to let me stay at his and his wife's place until I could get my shit together. There were supposed to be several legit things in place so I wouldn't be in this situation, which I knew was coming one day, but the funds for that ended up having to go elsewhere. That's life.

 Long story short they've been very kind and generous, and they're trying to help with some things, which has meant the world to me. They're into shooting straight, and they do the tough love thing, which is great and something I can use right now. The problem is, besides that fact that I'm the proverbial turd in the punchbowl, is that they literally think that because I'm not running around and freaking out it means that I don't care about my situation, which I understand as well as anyone is dire, and I'm just sitting around wishing something would happen, and it's not quite like that.

 Maybe letting yourself freak out motivates some people to action and that's great, but for me it doesn't work at all. How will it help me to panic? I learned many Moons ago that panic is the exact opposite of rational thinking and coming up with a plan. Our brains can't do both, and that's fact. I asked them if it would be better to be freaking out and pulling my hair out and whatnot, and they said yes. 

 I've been through plenty of stress, like all of us, and the last bloody thing I need to do is add more unnecessarily. Not letting myself panic has saved my life more than once, including the night I walked up onto a pack of wild dogs in the woods. If I'd panicked and started running, which was my natural instinct, I wouldn't be sitting here. You can either panic, or formulate a plan. On the inside I'm tripping out and I'm nauseated but I guess I don't show that enough. 

 One thing is that they only know me as a loser. They've never known me when I was worth half a fuck or was making money and being blessed enough to love my work. I get it. They think I'm sitting on my ass and not doing anything, but that's not true either. Back in 1995 when I first started making Moongazers there was a garden shop next to the crazy restaurant, and I sold them there. The owner is still there and when I called he remembered them and said to bring some by. They sold quite a few back then and they'd sell again, especially with social media.

 The problem is that when I go to a shelter, which will be within a week, I won't be able to make them or anything else, so I guess it's moot point. I'll just live off my fucking gov't check and that sucks. And it's not like my stuff is untested. I've sold it before and I could sell it again if I could make it. The problem is that money won't come in soon enough to keep me out of a shelter, which will mean that I can't make money selling my stuff. It's a lose-lose situation, but hey...I'm a loser anyway.

 I'm not a scorekeeper but I never forget a kindness. They care what happens to me, more than some people do, and I appreciate it, but thinking I don't give a shit is a big problem, and I can't seem to convince them otherwise. I need to get out of here yesterday. Goodbye Beagle. I'm so sorry. Hello shelter. I'll get to know the streets and hang out with other losers. Maybe I can score some Fentanyl. Fuck that noise. 

 

Reality

Having a miracle happen is one thing, and miracles do happen, but I'd need a miracle on top of a miracle. I'd love to be able to stay in the area I'm in for the next two weeks. There are opportunities here that would be a lot better than a job-job but if all else fails they're hiring shelf-stockers and whatnot. 

 The problem is it's very doubtful I can stay here. I'd have to magically find a place that isn't $2K a month, and then triple my income immediately, and the odds against that are staggering. Most likely I'll be heading to a homeless shelter.

 It's hard to imagine that becoming my reality but it happens to people every day. It makes me sick at my stomach, but that's life. I couldn't do anything but try to sleep, walk around the city with other bums, and maybe get a job in the kitchen. I couldn't make any of my stuff. It's tough to write about.

 The problem is there would be two shelters involved, and my dog would be going to the other one. If we're separated it'd kill him as much as it'd kill me. I'd planned to be with him until his last breath, or mine, whichever comes first. If that happened I'd probably lose what's left of my mind, and I'd fit right in with all the other street people. It'll probably happen, but it doesn't mean I have to accept it. No way.
 

Oh, the "Shame" of a Pedo

This is a freshly-busted Pedo, about to meet a cop. This just happened less than an hour ago. Happy Fourth, asshole. He was trying to meet a 12yo for unsavory things, but SURPRISE, he met a predator-poacher instead. What a buzzkill.

 I bet spending 4th of July in the pokey sucks. Although these monsters get pathetically light sentences in most cases, in Colorado they take it fairly seriously, and he committed felonies. Ouch. 

 The word "shame" is in quotes, since these narcissists have no shame, or empathy, remorse, compassion, love or any of the things that make most of us human for that matter. He's only concerned for himself and the trouble he's in, and not ruining a child's life FOREVER. These fucks are the dregs of the scum; the lowest of the low. Most people don't like pedos, especially other inmates in the prison he'll hopefully be going to. 

 There are more of these sick fucks than we can count, but here's one more being busted and exposed. I have compassion for almost everyone else on planet Earth except for these monsters. T'would be better to have a millstone hung around one's neck and dropped in the ocean than to harm a child. I want to say that if he does go to prison, I hope they tap that ass, but vengeance isn't mineth. If the afterlife is real, pal, don't drop the soap.