Opinionated, biased, crude, and, to most, politically incorrect

God it feels like I’ve been banging my head against the same goddamn fucking wall for three fucking years.

Depression, unemployment, substance abuse, being single. This is shit. 

This is the t-shirt my not girlfriend wears to bed. 

This is the t-shirt my not girlfriend wears to bed. 

To anyone wondering what a “bumper” is:

That little device is a technically called a “snuff bullet" but I call it a bumper because that’s exactly what it’s for. It’s got an acrylic top and a glass vial to keep your sniffables in that screws into the top. It measures and dispenses a bump at a time of whatever drug you’re pounding into your nose. It is especially helpful with drugs you want to control your intake tightly like Ketamine. It’s so fucking stealthy and convenient that I suggest that any fan of sniffables buy one. Mine fits a gram no problem. 

Basically you turn the knob so it’s pointing down, flip the device over, rotate the device and the knob at equal speeds so as not to dump your powder, raise to your nostril, and sniff. Easy peesy. Dispenses a good sized bump at a time. 

I’m bumping T3’s w/t Codeine out of my bumper because I cut my left index finger down to the bone on Friday. 
There really isn’t/wasn’t any pain except for the doctor stabbing me to freeze it for stitches…I just feel like feeling numb. 

I’m bumping T3’s w/t Codeine out of my bumper because I cut my left index finger down to the bone on Friday. 

There really isn’t/wasn’t any pain except for the doctor stabbing me to freeze it for stitches…I just feel like feeling numb. 

Everything is fucking piling up at the same goddamn fucking time

This hole I’m in is just fucking bottomless I swear to god. 

Kiev January 19, 2014
I wish the best for our Ukrainian anti government brothers!

Kiev January 19, 2014

I wish the best for our Ukrainian anti government brothers!

Today is one of those days you just need to get drunk

And tonight I’m getting smashed as fuck. 

"You are not your job, you’re not how much money you have in the bank. You are not the car you drive. You’re not the contents of your wallet. You are not your fucking khakis. You are all singing, all dancing crap of the world."

Tomorrow (January 4, 2014) is the 6th anniversary of my birthmom’s death

She was only 30 years old. 

I’m spending my day with Brandy so it won’t be quite as shitty as other years. 

I dropped acid for the first time on new Years Eve.

It was lovely. Here is my seriously serious 5 year Plan:

Year 1(2014): begin a fitness regimen, get the fuck out of morris, move closer to the family I care about, quit smoking hopefully, pay off the majority of my student loans, save some money.

year 2(2015): Begin taking first aide courses and other EMT oriented courses, quit smoking hopefully, continue being in shape.

year 3(2016): Enroll in fire fighting academy, quit smoking.

year 4(2017): Continue taking courses, find a job as a firefighter, quit smoking.

year 5(2018): By this point I don’t want to be getting high (getting stoned doesn’t count) or working shit minimum wage jobs. By the time I’m 28 I want to be married or at least begin settling down. Quit smoking.