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Messages - 85 Day Jerk

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61
Straight, Inc. and Derivatives / Mary Hartman, Mary Hartman.........
« on: September 13, 2007, 09:58:50 PM »
Please chill the fuck out!!  For starters, I did not know a goddamn thing about this Mock Rape thing seeings how I was on third phase and attending High School at Dixie Hollins, St. Pete, which was also the closest fucking high school to the program, and if we were not in group within a half hour of school getting out, it was our ass, while others from Northeast, St. Pete High, and other schools were given more than an hour to get their ass into group each day.  This was unfair as hell, and to make things worse, goddamn Wanda Minton's unemployed mother took it upon herself to relieve Rick Humbert from bringing us in.  At least in them days we could rock out to shit like "Hold the Line" by Toto, and "Blue Collar Man" by Styx.  Wanda's mom played fucking gospel music and made all these brilliant "observations" of us and purposely drove the longest route to prolong the agony.  

If you would pay attention you would see that I wrote no less than 3 times of my own self being torn about how I felt. Secondly, as far as naming names, why is it okay to bash the fuck out of the bad people, yet to name someone out loud and perhaps actually give them the long awaited vindication for the shit they endured somehow harm them?  Are you fucking kidding me?  Just what are you hiding from Mary?  I am not afraid to see my goddamn name posted here, and this whole Anonymity Bullshit is just the sort of thing that the ones who profitted from our suffering eat up each and every motherfucking day of their putrid lives.  As long as everyone stays pussy and silent, they had nothing to fear and STILL FUCKIN DON'T!!!!!!!

62
Straight, Inc. and Derivatives / Never Let Then See You Sweat
« on: September 13, 2007, 12:03:49 PM »
Now that I think about it, I never remember seeing George Ross sweat.  I mean it.  Never.  He pretty much wore office clothes, and most of the times a tie with his dress shirts.  I remember those guys like Steve Jordeanay who went to private schools in tie and uniform coming into group and looking like they had walked through a car was after about a half an hour, but never George.

Most of his raps were held in the early morning hours for the lower phasers in the building during school hours, and in the afternoons the raps were held in the "Carpet Rooms" with glorious a/c running.  Sure, the rooms heated up after awhile, but by then the raps were going full swing and George or executive staff were long gone to their cars or the comfort of their private office space.  The only times you would see them sweat was if an emergency type situation arose, like the time Amy Wrong's first and only "Love Rap" went out of control when a weird jerk chick talked about her brother giving her her first orgasm (a true classic) in the striped carpet room at Morgan Yacht.  Amy actually took out a set of keys, unlocked a never opened side door to the parking lot, and walked into the blazing sunlight screaming, on the way to her car.  Everyone was so stunned, no one even tried to split.  George had to restore order, and once the sweat started popping on his forehead, he got the bright idea to move us all into the big group where they were setting up for Open Meeting.  The 4th phase guys, being no dumbasses, had opened up the garage side doors and the room was way cooler than the one we just left.  This was the only time I remember seeing perspiration marks on Georges shirt.  On the subconscious level, air conditioning was reserved for "good cop" while swealtering heat was reserved for "bad cop."  Just another stroke position for the mind fuck we all endured.

63
Straight, Inc. and Derivatives / Nagging Question
« on: September 13, 2007, 12:18:37 AM »
Damn I won't get to sleep unless I ask this........thanks Woof, but I am trying to remember the chick that clocked Chris Casselor.  I remember she was on front row, about the third one from the end and she had blonde hair.  The season and phase I was on tell me around the latter part of 3rd phase.  She was new, and she was from down south.  Was'nt it Ann Crampton?

64
Straight, Inc. and Derivatives / Dave McAdams
« on: September 12, 2007, 11:56:44 PM »
I remember clear as a bell the day Dave first entered the program.
He looked like a Buffalo Bill/Stephen Stills hippy straight from the mudpits of Woodstock.  I think he was 16, yet he had thick wooly sideburns that reached his jawline.  I was fooled into thinking he had the IQ of a cigar butt, yet once his spirit broke, it blew my mind how fast the transformation into an intelligent teenager took over.

He was a newcomer of Mike Brunette, who's father was on the Board of Directors.  I always thought highly of them all and still am torn to admit that I still do.  Mikes younger brother Thomas was a damn good friend as well as Mike.  They all were transported to where I lived when Patterson Horizons was turned into an Emergency Dropoff during the freak-out flood of May 8, 1979 when my dad made 3 trips in the trusty custom blue leather Ford Maverick that he drove through water that came up to the windows.  We wound up with 27 Straightlings at our house as parents as far away as Lakeland made frantic phone calls to locate their children.  The St. Petersburg area around Tyrone was under 8 feet of water in some places.  This was the only time in my knowlege that Straight Inc. had to close down operations and evacuate.  This was some serious shit and I think I was on 4th phase and finishing 11th grade at the time.  It was a big moment in my program.  At the risk of being started over, I took a Polaroid snapshot of about half of the 27 people that were at my house that day.  Dave McAdams is in that photo and Mike Brunette got ahold of some vampire fangs he found while we were digging around for board games to pass the time.  He slipped them on right before the picture was taken and it looked cool as hell in the finished photo.  My dad might still have it tucked away somewhere.  I'll have to ask him.  If he does, I'll send a copy to those who want one.
Dave was a good guy, and so was Mike, who ended up marrying Nancy Ross, sister of Jeff Ross.  While visiting Liz Cassidy/Gay about 2 years out of the program, she told me how Mike and Nancy had started drinking beer.  She was really tore up about it at the time.  Around this time quite a few of my friends from the program had started delving back into alcohol.  Not long after I had my first "screw up beer" in Jacksonville Florida while being processed into the United States Army.  This was early October 1982 and shortly after that, events led to the total meltdown of my family as I knew it and the stage was set for the horrible damage that came after that is still under reconstruction to this very day.

As far as George Ross is concerned, more power to him.  At least he tried to make a difference.  His RSA therapy was a little too cerebral in my opinion, to be laying on teenagers and adolecents, but what the hell, it really is a useful tool if used properly, sort of like Algebra I guess.  George was one of the few things right about the program and like I said earlier, I feel torn writing about it, but goddammit people like him helped me to forget shit like sweat caked girls screaming at each other and calling each other whores and shit, while the guys who made them that way stood smugly on the sidelines leaning over and tugging my ear and telling me to "pay attention" like I was supposed to walk away with some valuable lesson from it all.  I guess the best way to sum it up is that we all had to take the bad with the good, and compared to Ms. Pete, Doug Hemminger, Mike Murphy and his Jekyl and Hyde psycho act, total asshole bitches like Amy Wrong, Wanda Minton, Melinda Putnam and others, people like Dave and George helped keep me from breaking a chair over some motherfuckers head.
I better quit for now, but this thread really pushed some rusted shut buttons on me...................Later ::luck::  ::luck::  ::luck::  ::rocker::  ::rocker::  ::stab::

65
Open Free for All / where were you on 9/11??
« on: September 11, 2007, 07:47:36 PM »
I worked nights driving for the St. Pete Times then, and had gotten up to check on my mail on my day/morning off.  I had been up until 3 a.m. that morning watching and taping an X-Files Marathon.  I turned on the TV for the hell of it and they were showing live footage of the fire in the first tower and then the footage of the plane that hit it.

I immediately called a buddy who I worked with who had the same days off and we both stayed on the phone talking and watching as the second plane hit.  We were both a little freaked out and then said our goodbyes to call family members and see what they thought about it all.  I lost track of how many friends and neighbors that I saw and talked to the next few hours as everything unveiled and the towers came down.  Pretty much up until that point, I thought that it was an act of terrorism, but when the towers came down the way they did, I started to have my doubts.  The memory of the planned demolition of the Soreno Hotel downtown came to mind and the way that it came down after all those charges went off was still too fresh in my mind I guess.  Them buildings came down too precisely and too uniform to have been anything other than a controlled set of explosions.  The way the media kept slamming us over the head with the same footage over and over again, pretty much convinced me that this was some kind of put-on.

I got some sleep finally, and when after I got up, a neighbor who worked for the credit bureau stopped by and I fired up my Windows 98 Flight Simulator.  I entered a program to fly a 737 along the path that the first plane supposedly took.   The program allowed for crashing into the World Trade Center.  Doing the sharp bank that happened over the Hudson River that took the plane less than 200 feet above the George Washington Bridge was tricky as hell.  It took me and my neighbor about 13 tries before we finally nailed it.  We had to use the fuckin airbrakes and slow the jet to damn near stall speed and then jam the throttle to get it back on course.  After that, hitting the tower was a piece of cake.

Now some people might think that a person has to have some pretty sick brains to do what we did, but I basically had to satisfy my curiosity and prove to myself that the 9/11 attacks were just an elaborate hoax to get our government in place for the inevidable oil crisis that is yet to come.  From what I experienced from spending about 3 hours messing around on a pretty sophisticated computer program, the attacks on them towers were done by professionals with military training, not a bunch of illiterate fanatical camel jockeys who could'nt even fly a Cessna 172 without messing up.

66
Straight, Inc. and Derivatives / I'm not here to be "popular"
« on: September 08, 2007, 05:35:57 PM »
I don't post on here to gain popularity.  When someone needs the light of truth shined on them, it shines.  Why does this society we live in glorify bad behavior yet ignore decency and humanity?

The guy who finds a cell phone accidentally left on a sink in a public restroom who then turns it into the front desk gets nothing, while the gold toothed grinning "playah" who purposely spills piping hot coffee on his nads, sues the restaurant for a million dollars is held in triumph.

So here is the deal.  You side with someone who lies and manipulates their way through life, blantantly abuses drugs of many shapes and forms without a care in the world, yet takes credit for any positive outcome in a life spun out of control that resulted in either the efforts of those who enable them, or most likely pure happenstance.  A person who has taken advantage of anyone foolish enough to befriend them to the point where obvious financial hardships where a result of said "friendship."  

Most amusing is that I am a man of 220 pounds on a 5'-10" frame.  My chest is 46 and my waist is size 38 and for that crime of not being built like a Ken doll, housewives the world over are hereby granted complete immunity from the following offenses:

1.     Adultery in any way, shape, or form.

2.     Remaining unemployed yet given access to 1/2 if not all of the
        household funds to be used indiscriminately for the most
        ridiculous of reasons.

3.     Complete and total drug abuse in any way shape or form, regardless of the social impact, strains on the family unit financially, emotionally or physically.  Absolute narcissistic nirvana simply must be achieved in any way possible short of resulting in death.

4.     The consequences of lying, cheating, conniving, stealing, plagerizing, speeding, or overindulging will be suspended as long as Bob Patterson, residing in the State of Tennessee, remains on this earth in excess of the medically sound standardized weight of ONE HUNDRED AND EIGHTY-FIVE POUNDS.

By the powers invested in me by Yoda, shortly before he died and right before the beer ran out leaving us to resort to a bottle of Albertsons mouthwash mixed with Lime Kool-Ade to finish off the last bowl, I hereby grant all housewives a life of guilt-free ease and merriment until the all empowering globally affective weight of 45 pounds has been lifted from the body of myself.  Until then, MAY THE FARCE BE WITH YOU..................Always

67
Straight, Inc. and Derivatives / nope nuttin
« on: September 07, 2007, 08:41:28 PM »
irrelevant

68
Straight, Inc. and Derivatives / Sleepless Night Flight
« on: September 04, 2007, 11:24:20 PM »
Them "sleepless nights" must arrive from that time you got tired of keeping your big ass thighs together and the stank that emminated from betweencks your legs done gone and set off the stank detectors and made the fuckin oxygen masks fall from yonder ceiling of the aircraft you were flying on.  That sho' must enough had been embarrassing enough for a burned out neighboorhood pump such as yourself...............

69
Straight, Inc. and Derivatives / Killing Yourself to Live
« on: September 04, 2007, 12:34:24 AM »
"Killing Yourself to Live" was a song on the album Sabbath Bloody Sabbath, and I remember blasting the fuck out of I-275 on the way home from my hellhole job at St. Pete Printing Co. every afternoon as my '72 Gran Torino tore its way through traffic and I sonically vented out the frustrations bottled inside my 19 year old frame.  I had just recieved a two weeks paycheck whereas I had put in 52 hours of overtime.  To my naive horror, I discovered that the government of Ronald Reagan had saw fit to snatch over TWO HUNDRED DOLLARS of my hard earned overtime in taxes.  I vowed never again to work more than 9 hours overtime on any given week after that.  In 1981, if you were young and single, the gov't took roughly 23% of your pay in taxes.  Overtime pay was taxed at nearly 37% if you were lucky enough to work in a job that doled it out.  The Clinton years saw some reforms in how much the gov't can take out of short term pay and I hope the sort of shit my generation had to put up with never occurs again.

So in the land of the here and now, I spent a weekend with my parents who are both of retirement age, yet are still plugging along working.  My dad works for Loomis, an armored cash distributer, and at the age of 67, he pulled a few shoulder muscles last Friday afternoon because his crew got sacked with extra duty and an extra shipment of cash and coins to cover his route for the Labor Day Weekend.  We painted his newly refurbished deck Sat morning and his constant wincing, every time he ran the paint roller along the ceiling bore testament to his over-doing it at work the previous day.
In moving the furniture and grill back onto the deck, I saw how much his strength has waned over the years.  He also has to take shots to manage his diabetes and I catch myself glancing at his feet and hands at times for those tell tale signs of poor circulation.

My step mom is no spring chicken either.  What I used to pass off as just the bitchiness of a mom who's two natural sons turned out to be misfits came sorely to light this past weekend when my dad and I paid her a visit at work to purchase some school clothes for myself.  She is the Southest Tennessee Training Manager for a national outlet store, and I always thought her job was a piece of cake.  She met us all red in the face like she had been in a damn tug of war or something.  I was kind of alarmed, really because she was damn near out of breath and really stressed out.  It seems the company fucked up and sent her twice as much of a certain item and she had  to make room for it and push the product before the halloween and thanksgiving stuff arrived.  She is 65 and has all sorts of back problems.  Instead of settling down upon moving to Tennessee, my parents had to go for broke and buy a fucking 4300 square ft home when the one in Florida was a modest 1800 square ft.  They are both killing themselves to maintain a lifestyle most folks in their 40's could only dream of attaining.  While I was pissed off and envious of all they had when I first moved up here, now I am kind of shocked and horrified at the discovery that with all they have now, most times they are simply too damned tired from work to even enjoy it.
This past weekend saw a lot of revelations and made me see just how easy I have it compared to them.  I don't want to end up like they have, at the top of the mountain with no strength to walk back down.

70
Straight, Inc. and Derivatives / A Victory of Sorts
« on: September 03, 2007, 08:49:37 PM »
Fuck the dumbshit and pay attention please!  We had us a pretty significant victory back in the fall of 2004.  From the heart of Sparkling Downtown St. Petersburg Florida, Mel Sembler and his goons attempted to launch a kid friendly community website for the DFAF (drug free america foundation) that was paid for lock, stock, and barrel with OUR blood, sweat, tears and fears.  It was a cute enough little site, with all sorts of interactive bullshit.  Once we were all alerted to it's existance, several of us veterans commenced to bombarding the shit out of it with STRAIGHT INC testimonies and derogatory statements.  

After just 4 short days, they were forced to shut the fuck down and at least 3 separate agencies had to launch investigations into the allegations posted on the site by us.  Sembler and his bunch were forced to face the truth that they are a bunch of money grubbing assholes that have no business in the area of community service.
Since then, Sembler and the DFAF have been pretty damn careful about touting thier so called "sucesses" regarding the Straight Programs, and pretty much avoid mentioning it anymore.  Instead they are concentrating on lame-ass statistics connected to their dumbass and ineffective anti-drug propaganda.

71
Straight, Inc. and Derivatives / Full Circle
« on: August 28, 2007, 10:13:41 PM »
Holy Shit!  So you are the guy that Ms B called me about and asked me if I could drive to Orlando (or was it Jacksonville?) to help out.  I was unable to oblige because 3 weeks of driving back and forth to Dunedin when it rained most every night, while working for Neilsen Media had pretty much destroyed my rack and pinion on my Celica.

"What's that got to do with anything you ask?"  Well quite simply this, when Ms. B needed my help, I was Dudley Do-right, I was Bob, plain and simple, so you gotta ask yourself this question.  If I happened to have come to your rescue that weekend, who woulda got to be the asshole?  Kinda makes me glad I wound up spending $250 on a new front end then ever having the misfortune of wasting my time with the likes of you children.

72
Straight, Inc. and Derivatives / Stuck in Stepcraft
« on: August 27, 2007, 07:02:41 PM »
Okay, take the drugs away and then tell me about this wonderful friendship you have.............you cant.  Hunter S. Thompson said it best, "NEVER TRUST DRUG PEOPLE AND NEVER TURN YOUR BACK ON A DRUG."  The last time I saw your "friend" was in Pinellas Park Florida in 2004.  Her ribs were showing, her hair was wild, and I did'nt even get to say hello to her really, because she was to busy frantically apologizing to a woman from Sarasota that she burned for a couple hundred dollars who was ready to kick her ass.

73
Straight, Inc. and Derivatives / Stuck in Stepcraft
« on: August 26, 2007, 11:50:52 PM »
So does this mean I won't be getting a Christmas Card this year?

We never ever were friends Kimmy, because in order to HAVE a friend you have to know how to BE a friend.  All our "friendship" ever consisted of was my decency as a human being and your self centered whims because after all, it really is ALL ABOUT YOU, is'nt it???? :D  :D  :roll:  ::bandit::  ::bandit::

74
Straight, Inc. and Derivatives / I see a little clearer now
« on: August 26, 2007, 02:02:04 AM »
irrelevant

75
Open Free for All / My Silver Dollar's Worth (suggested by another)
« on: August 22, 2007, 11:52:56 PM »
Let's step outside ourselves for a moment and reflect on the changes that have occurred since the days of our various programs shall we? Big hair is no longer the rage, cell phones are no longer the size of hair dryers, and computers were to the 90's what Color TV was in the '60's.
School-kids traded in their Walkmans for handguns
and the music is not about getting high, so much as it is about running your mouth about how tough you are, and how many ho's you can impregnate with your illiterate genes.
Families rarely eat dinner together anymore unless it is at a restaurant. People with good jobs are working far too many hours overtime, while young frustrated adults scream for training and opportunities against the deaf ear of U.S. Industry. Values are viewed as 'weakness' and held in contempt. We witnessed large aircraft fly
into the two tallest buildings in America and some still question whether it was real or just an elaborate set up to plunge our country into war
for the "good of the economy." For the icing on the cake, we were presented with yet another Space Shuttle Accident.  I don't let the posts of others get me down that much, but I can say, that lately this forum has strayed into the fringes of the Twilight Zone. The main thing is that this is what makes America what it is, a bunch of grab astic pieces of amphibian shit shooting off their mouths and seeking attention and gratification. People may miss my earlier "Tales of Epic Adventure" from my early days in the Milton Roy Building, but for now I only write like that if I have a flash-back and lemme tell ya, its hard to have a flash-back when all you see in here is the same tired lame-ass bullshit. What it all boils down to is that we have nothing but ourselves to blame.

As far as the Black/White thing goes, it took me moving to another state to gain a much needed fresher perspective of the situation.  All I can honestly say is this: in the state of Tennessee, Black folks are more white than white people are in Pinellas Park Florida!!!!
They know how to act, and embrace GOOD music, mainly Memphis Blues.  The only time you hear thumping Ghetto trash music is when some ignorant dumbass hillbilly wannabe Gangsta Asshole drives by in his piece of shit Nissan JitterBoogie Mobile, go figure, thousands of hours of MTV shit music programing has finally paid off and it is erroding white middle class trailer Jethro Retardville just like the "commie hippie propaganda" of the early 70's helped "seed"
the juvenile drug treatment hysteria we all fell victim to.

If you are not behind bars, then that must mean you are a free man.
If you have to resort to blaming others for your misfortunes, then the bars are of your own goddamn making and I would appreciate you putting your mouth on mute and try and think your way into a better way to live.

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