It Could Be Worse: A Heroin Story

    As I've already said before in my most recent post, I have a been sick. Then, shortly after my near death (Exaggeration) sickness, I spend 10 hours sweeping. Think about that for a moment. I spent 6 hours sweeping without stopping, then lunch, than 3 and a half more hours consisting of more sweeping. It's sounds easy, but upload a video of you doing it, and then smile for the camera as you cross that "oh-so-easy" finish line.

    Anyway, I'm getting paid for that. So that's something. The basement is no longer flooded, but in it's final moments, the flood made sure to leave it's legacy behind. The carpet reeks of freshly slain feces. I think the lingering smell of waste and death give the room some character. I'm tempted to name the stench. (SN: I forgot it was Saturday.) I'll name it Terry.

    Also, first comment, awesome personal achievement! (Thank You, Quincy)

    Since we're all caught up, I'll type up the story of a lifetime. The same weekend we almost got shanked and left for dead HERE, I had a run-in with some pretty interesting dudes. Caution, I feel as though I might not look so brave in the moments I am going to describe to you, but damn it, I tried.

    It was a peaceful drunken Saturday at my Uncle's motel room (In his defense, it's a roomy motel, almost hotel-ly). I had cigarettes, but no lighter. In my drunken state, I was hitting on the women at the front desk. She wasn't attractive in the traditional sense, but my beer goggles would argue that it was "good enough". After my failed attempt to woo the older woman, police entered the lobby and I quickly walked away.

    I bumped into some regular looking guys, one of them was very short and friendly, the other was tall, quiet and apparently as drunk as I was. I asked them for a lighter and they emptied out their pockets. No dice. They invited me up to their room where they assured me they had a lighter. I followed them across the entire motel and they led me into the room. It was a regular room, just like my Uncle's and they had the tv going.

    I was handed a lighter and I cracked open the window. I thanked them and got to know them. They told me they had a friend in the shower, who was also living with them. The shorter guy, Alec, started talking to me about his situation (He lives in a motel, of course there's an explanation). He told me his girlfriend got pregnant with someone else's baby, that his mother sent him to rehab for smoking pot, he talked about moving to harder drugs and eventually being admitted into a hospital.

    I want you to understand that the guy I was speaking to didn't look a day over 20. He looked young, youthful and full of energy. He was funny and down to earth. So naturally, I think he's full of shit. I don't believe a word he says. I laughed it off and they offered me some of their cheap plastic fifth of whiskey. Of course, I take a few shots. I was completely fine, until I noticed the tall guy, J-something, start spacing out while watching Superbad. I started feeling a little uncomfortable.

    That's when it happens, the bathroom door opened and this tall, strung out, eminem looking dude walked out half naked. He threw a shirt on and introduced himself. I don't remember his name, I just remember feeling fear. This is it, they spilled all their secrets, they're not gonna let me leave. I'm dead. I composed myself the best I could and continued talking to them. All the while, Alec kept talking about how he got clean and his plans for the future and Eminem started looking at the ceiling and stretching like he was ready for liftoff. I managed to ask, "Are you cool, man?"

    "Heroin, man. Heroin."

    Pardon my french, but I damn near shit myself. Between his soul-cleansing shower and meeting me, this guy shot himself up with heroin. Not very many normal people can say that everyday. So, Alec is talking about 'bitches, and how they suck', Spacehead is intrigued by Superbad and Captain Heroin is getting ready to enter Tron. Things are not looking good for me. All I need is a way out. There was a knock at the door and I was completely swallowed by darkness.

    It was pitch black, the junkies had shut off the lights in panic (You thought it was something more epic, didn't you?). All I could hear were these idiots talking about how the police were in the lobby and fighting over who needs to answer the door. At that point in time, I'm either going to jail for associating myself with these junkies or dying. Of course, they managed to get Captain Heroin to answer the door, great logic. I could hear him talking, but I couldn't hear who he was talking to. I heard him say, "Who? No, he's not here," and damn near ran to the door.

    The lady at the front desk was kind enough to let my uncle know some junkies lead me away and were ready to rape me (Not really). But alas, I was rescued. I went back to my uncles room and had myself some beer before passing out. Good times.

Scariest moment of your life? Do tell.

~JoeGenoCyDe

Apologies

    Hey everyone! I've been sick for the last week and I'm starting to get better. I really haven't been doing much apart from light drinking and hanging around moping. Wait! Our basement AKA my bedroom is slightly flooded, mostly wet with poop water. That's a whole other story. Also, I still have to tell you guys about my run in with heroin addicts. I'm falling behind!

~JoeGenoCyDe

A Man's Got To Eat

    I got hungry, it was at this point when I realized there was no food. I burrowed through the cabinets (Burrowed, sarcasm, they're empty). I found a bag of rice and whipped up what I could with that.

     I made the rice, added 2 squares of cheese, salted it, added pepper, and topped it off with hot sauce. I'm expecting a call from the food network soon. There's a new cook in town.(I really can cook, but I had nothing to work with, forgive me)

~JoeGenoCyDe

Night of the Living Deadbeats

    Two nights ago, we went out to a very interesting party. It was a multi birthday keggar. We were one of the first ones there and I had a rough time starting a conversation with the antisocial "out-of-towners" (They were from the next town over, that's hardly classified as being from out of town). And the party started pretty lame. We wish the party would have just been lame.

    All of a sudden, waves of people started showing up. Not nice, inviting people, God no, we wish they would have at least been civil. Basically, it was the kind of party that drug dealers go to. I don't have a problem with their lifestyle, but when you're in a house filled wall-to-wall with them, you find Jesus (I also found a handful of "Snooki"s and a Bubba Sparks).

    After repenting for my sins, I decided I needed to play it cool. I soon discovered that head nodding was an international greeting in these social settings. I got hundreds of "What's good"s "Sup, Fam"s and "Hey, dude"s. I was doing good. I got confident enough to make jokes at some points, things were going well for me. I was still very uncomfortable, but I wasn't afraid of possible death (as much).

    All of a sudden everyone was being shushed. The police had just knocked on the door. In the confusion people started losing their minds. People were panicking about the idea of going to jail, people started climbing out windows, and some of them just started smoking weed. Things were quiet down in the basement until a fight broke out. That's when people started rushing up the stairs.

    When I finally got upstairs, I found Darco. He was very unhappy with our current situation and we talked about leaving once the cops were gone. It turned out they were only there to tell people to move their cars from traffic (apparently parallel parking is too hard to do). That's when another fight broke out. People went nuts, there was screaming, yelling, crying, it was insane. We finally got out of the house and we realized Darco left his coat. We went back and grabbed his coat, than took off.

    We didn't get as drunk as we thought, but it was probably for the better. We went home and went to sleep.

~JoeGenoCyDe

Late Night Post!

    If you follow this blog (which you don't), you'd know that I don't typically write posts this late. It's nearly 8:30 PM, and although not technically late, it's late for a blog post. I just felt that I needed to record something before the rest of this night commences. Darco is currently showering and getting ready for tonight. We have each already had a few drinks (close to 10 shots of Whiskey for Darco, slightly more for me). We spent the day drinking at the mall again.

    So we got drunk at the mall again. Now, we're getting ready for a party. Not just any party. A HUGE party. 200+ guests may be showing up and it's a keggar (So I'm told). Tonight could possibly be the end of Hardcore Climax. Possible incarceration and legal fees could cause the downfall of a band that was unable to reach it's prime. Also a slight chance of death, in which case, we will become a postmortem multi-platinum selling rock band.

    Just thought I'd set up the next (possibly grim) blog post. Keep us in your prayers!

~JoeGenoCyDe

Things Happen. Shit Happens, too.

    Darco and I went to the mall yesterday with two 44oz gas station sodas with about ten shots of Jose Cuervo each. Naturally, I was a little nervous, it was only a few days after my 22 shots from hell. I get down about halfway through my drink when we finally get out of the car. We stop at every other bench to sit and talk while we sip on our drink (drank in some social circles). We drink, check out women, eat food, it's a good time.

    We get bored of the mall atmosphere and head towards the nearest Best Buy. Darco is interested in God knows what, and my mindset at the time just wanted to play 'Epic Mickey' on the wii so we seperate. I eventually realize I look ridiculous, getting pissed off at the game for not letting me win, so I venture out to search for Darco. While looking for my band mate, I'm distracted by a keyboard aisle. I dick around on the instruments, realizing I've forgotten half the songs I've claimed to have known. I start playing '7 Nation Army' very loudly. Darco soon emerges from the depths of the electronics after hearing my beautiful rendition of the song. We play with the keyboards a bit longer before venturing off to find new adventures.

    We get to the Apple area and I start messing around on the internet. I pull up the band Purevolume page and start playing it loudly. I call out to Darco and act as if I just discovered the band. "Wow, dude! This band is great don't you think?" That goes on for a bit longer. Halfway through, I though it'd be a great idea to record a video and place it onto the iMac's background. We email ourselves the video and keep our webpage open on the largest iMac there.Shameless, but funny. We record another video on an iTouch or something, again plugging ourselves. We leave Best Buy, refill our gas station cup and head back to the mall. We notice a familiar car and get excited as we realize my uncle is in the mall somewhere.

    Shortly after our sudden rush of excitement, we realize we are running dangerously low on tequila. We each have about 4 shots and the bottle is empty. We sing a few musicals and then come up with a plan to find my uncle and convince him to buy a few drinks for the rest of the evening. We don't have to look very long, we barely walk into the mall when there he is with his wife. It doesn't really take much convincing, so we race them home. My uncle lives in a motel, so while in the lobby, I see Brad, someone I used to know from school. We catch up really quick and I find out he's living with his current girlfriend and her baby (not his). He tells me he just lost his job and I wish him good luck. I get to my uncle's room and he's playing his PS3 with Darco and they have their beers in hand. I grab a beer and watch them play some weird PS3 arcade-type game. Maybe 20 minutes later, there's a knock on the door. It's Brad.

   Brad has a large dish of food. He and his girlfriend sent over some food that they weren't going to eat. At first, we're just really glad that there's some food and it tastes great! We give Brad a beer and he hangs out for a bit before dismissing himself. We thank him and tell him we'll return the dish once we're through. It wasn't until half hour later, while delivering the dish, that I realized how nice of them it was.

    A thin girl with dark hair answers the door. I smile and ask if I've got the right room. She laughs and invites me in. I hand her the dish and thank her again for the food, after telling her how good it was. Brad is on the bed playing with the baby. The baby is adorable, I immediately want to pick him up, so I ask if I can and snatch him up once they gave me permission. The dopey baby won't stop staring at me, but he seems to be fine. They assure me that if he was upset, he'd be crying.

    While holding the baby, I learn more about their situation and it's not good. They are staying in the motel for a couple days and have no idea what happens after that. They have both lost their jobs and are clueless as to what to do next. I put the baby down during the conversation and he seems to stop staring. They fill me in on what brought them to this point. The baby starts laughing at me so naturally, I pick him back up. I feel as if I have been there for a bit too long, and excuse myself. I thank them for the food and compliment them on their baby (Brad loves him as his own). As I leave I wish them good luck and give them my number.

    I return to my Uncle's room and we watch a movie. When I get home, I've got a text from Brad. He's invited me over for breakfast in the morning and I politely decline his offer, telling him I probably won't be up too early. I thank him again and wish him all the luck in the world.

    That family gives me hope for humanity. They are at their lowest point, but still remember to be polite and considerate of other people. They don't have much to give, but give anyway. They are good people and I truly hope they find a way out of their jam.

~JoeGenoCyDe

Yesterday's Antics

    So, things have been pretty dull around here. I've been stuck in a nostalgic kick recently, I've spent countless hours playing Smackdown! Shut Your Mouth on the PS2 (You should probably skip to the next paragraph if you're not familiar with the game). I've created myself and Darco in the Create-A-Superstar mode. I've been playing the season mode as opposed to playing exhibition matches. I'm already more than halfway through the second season. I have the Undisputed, European and the Tag Team belts. Lame, I know.

    That's the gist of all the excitement I've had in the past few days, until yesterday. We bought a handle of New Amsterdam Gin early last week. We decided we would watch the latest Coen Brothers' film, True Grit, whilst intoxicated. That went swell. Great movie. Anyway, the following days consisted of Darco drinking up all the gin himself for I was not 'feeling it'.

    Darco decided that I needed to 'catch up' to him, meaning I needed to drink as much as he did in the days prior. 22 shots. No biggie, right? I decided I should do it all in one day, make life exciting, you only live once. Unfortunately, you only get one liver. We decided to make things even more exciting. While drinking, I would get on webcam, record my progress and tell a story. We did this so that we could gradually watch my downfall.
Also, it'd be a great way to show my future offspring where daddy started.

    I bought a 52 oz. Big Bubba mug from the Mobil Gas Station down the street ($7.50, but you can refill it for 85 cents. Why does it seem that the cent symbol no longer exists?). I filled it with Mountain Dew Red, drank about half of it, and then filled it with 22 shots of Jose Cuervo. The original plan was to slowly drink my 50/50 mix drink through the course of the day. I did it in less than an hour.

    I'm no stranger to blacking out, but yesterday was the first time my memory has been hazy. I kinda remember doing the videos. I also kinda remember Darco coming home. I remember going down the stairs, and that's it. It's as if I walked down the stairs into my blackout. I don't remember what I did when I got to the bottom of the stairs. I remember nothing.

    I woke up at around 1AM. I was shirtless and miserable. I was in bed. I don't normally sleep shirtless, so I feared the worst. Did I make an ass of myself? Flashes of me dancing like Gibby from iCarly flashed through my mind, but I don't think it actually happened. I crawled out of bed, literally. I felt like Hasselhoff looking for a cheeseburger. I didn't have to crawl far to find my shirt, traces of vomit were apparent on it. Great. I threw up at some point.

    I have no idea what happened. My only clue is a FB wallpost from Darco which read:

Haha, you better be alive tomorrow. Because these videos are amazing.


      I will get to the bottom of this mystery. Perhaps Darco will help me fill the gaps.

~GenoCyDe