For some time my son has been harassed on FB about my where a bouts and my health
To you all I have written an open letter;
You know I was a nice guy back when. I was always agreeable. Then the scene started to hit critical mass and there was
fractioning and cliques and little drama wars.
Then I realized, I guess I always knew, that this was no-where’s-ville this was not a sustainable life style.
I remember the Tales of Terror coming back from the slavery tour and being different. I remember many friends being swallowed by their
vices and addictions. I remember going to Bedrock Bill’s funeral, you all remember that? Remember how he was found and how sad and
pathetic his family looked during the viewing and the evil “kill you where stand” looks from his mother.
I was already starting to distance myself from it all, but I think that was the clincher. That look from his mom was a monstrous weight
heaped upon me.
I knew my mother was insane, but I also knew I did not what her to go through that.
I left. I kept in touch with many and lost touch with many more. I became a terrible friend to all of you eventually, but it was for the
sake and sanity of me and my future family.
I took my family to Texas without ever telling my mother where we were. That should tell you something about my privacy and protection of
my family.
We are different from when we were then and there is a reason we lost touch. We changed and now when we are all 40+ and staring at the
horizon of our lives we try to go back, but we cannot rewind time.
I have changed I am a mean mother fucker I hate just about every human on this god forsaken rock spiraling into the sun.
I have come to realize humans are evil simple fact. it is amazing that we ever evolved past the fish on the beach. By all accounts we
should have eaten each other there on the beach and had been god's failed experiment.
That said I have a couple of things to point out;
Jeff said, “Have to say.... John was a jerk...and a pig... with his silly rotting catbones, plus the fucker chipped my tooth... could
say more but why bother...”
Jeff:
You did not rule shit you acted like to the poser fag you will always be.
I vaguely remember you talking some shit 25 years ago about some chipped tooth and I kind of remember I was not responsible but then
again I cannot clearly state I remember the whole sorted crybaby saga but I am sure you were doing something stupid to get me to do
something to chip your tooth, but then again that is the youth and the culture of today, isn’t it? It is never your fault it is the fault
of someone else.
"It was not my fault I was arrested for drinking beer in the park, it was the fault of the Chinese guy at the liquor store or the old guy
who called the cops but clearly it is not my fault for trespassing and violating ord 3.1.5.2 of the city penal code. No way, not mine, boo
fucking hoo"
So Jeff, maybe in your little world with pink skies and purple grass, you are somebody.
Maybe in your little world where all of your furniture is made of the scrotum skin of young men, you are important.
You might be king shit where the maggots go to worship, you might be a prophet to the little turds in the sewer.
But in my world you are an open festering sore on a dog’s ass. You are nothing and you do not even require a name.
You are just simply shit, not king shit bubba douche bag. Not even bubba douche bag.
Malcom
It was Stiv Bators not Iggy Pop that served us whiskey and as far as the penis thing well I remember hearing about you touching Iggy’s
dick while I was in jail, you cheating bastard!.
Randy:
It was not Rats Ass, Boots and John. First of all Geoff hated the nick name boots. Second it was Rick W. myself and Sam C. that got
arrested in the back of the club for damaging the ceiling and we three were taken off to the station.
During our incarceration someone else fell through the ceiling onto the stage and another dip shit punter broke through the ceiling and
stole the ticket money thus corroborating our story that two others had fallen through and got away.
If I offended some of you all, well I guess I did. If some wonder if I hate them, then I probably do, and if you want my e-mail then
Y3d0c3RyYXlkb2dAeWFob28uY29t
But really you zombies need to leave my son alone; he does not need friends like you I should know.
Burn in hell, you sinners, you evil tools of satan. For one day the lord will come and you all will be cast into hell and I will be there
in all my glory kicking dirt into the hole and laughing and pointing at your misery and dismay. It will be a glorious day then too for the
lord has come to take all his children home.
Old Zombies Come Back To Haunt Me
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