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Messages - 85 Day Jerk

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Straight, Inc. and Derivatives / Re: HELEN PETERMANN IS DEAD!!!!!!
« on: June 01, 2012, 01:56:07 AM »
FRAU BLUCHER!!!!!!!   Around the world the horses scream          

Sung to the tune of God Will Fuck You Up

Life ain't always fair my friends, we had Helen Petermann
She destroyed and tortured countless teenaged lives-
She may have lived life rich and well,
but God still sent her STRAIGHT to hell
and now the Devil's flames are cooking her Beehive!!

Straight, Inc. and Derivatives / Re: Who Insured Straight INC?
« on: May 26, 2011, 12:52:59 AM »
As far as I know, in the beginning in St. Petersburg all the program had to do was come up with a "Surety Bond" which was nothing more than money set aside in a court appointed account.  No doubt the money came from the very grant that was given to "operate" the program.  As the group grew in size, no doubt the bond requirements grew as well.  As long as they had enough money set aside to please the courts regarding liability, Straight could do any damn thing it pleased.  Also, in the beginning, the building space was donated by benefactors who used it as a tax write off.  All the officers of Straight had to do to cover their asses was to simply pay RENTERS INSURANCE, which is cheap as hell and covers a hell of a lot.  For example, in the here and now, MY renters insurance is $105 a year and I am covered for 250 thousand dollars liability for whatever outlandishly freak occurance that could befall any gold digging dumbass within the confines of my simple one bedroom apartment.

There are a lot of businesses that operate this way.  Rather than pay premiums that you will never ever see again, a business that is profitable enough simply has to make a binding statement to the courts that they have sufficient funds set aside to cover any losses or liabilities.  Of course they could lose their ass, but the bigger the company, the smaller the risk and the greater the savings.

For instance, a guy I knew when I drove for the St. Petersburg Times had a garbage truck pull out in front of him at 55mph.  Times had a surety bond, the shit took 23 months before a court date.  He lost his house, had to learn how to walk all over again, and will never be the same because he had to live on Workman's Comp instead of reaching a quick settlement that INSURANCE would have provided.  All the while, St. Pete Times had the mangled truck tucked away behind a building and covered with tarps for 2 years awaiting litigation.  We were threatened with termination after I showed the wreck to a buddy who took a picture with his cell phone.  A supervisor called us to the office, made him hand over his phone, and then proceeded to erase his entire SD card.  Welcome to America, now get in line for your 3 gulps of water at the fountain!

When I first came on the forum 9 or so years ago, it used to perplex me quite a bit that there were so few members.  For what it's worth, in all practical terms, the whole Straight Experience was just a blink in time for the clients who came from families that are good at sweeping things under the rug.  I mean, would any of you join an organization that worshiped the proud ownership of Yugos?  You remember them don't you?  About the biggest pieces of shit in automotive history?  Would you even own one if it were given to you??  Over the years, I have run into people that I knew in the program and most times I am avoided after that glimmer of recognition is over.  I don't let it bother me any more.  

In 1977, I was at Tampa Stadium attending a Led Zeppelin concert that ended up in a riot.  It was also a life changing event, yet no one felt the need for a Reunion.  It was not even mentioned in the book "Hammer of the Gods," but has been mentioned in other music biographies of that time period.  There were close to 75 thousand people at that event, and having lived in the Tampa Bay area all of my life, I can say that I've run into less than ten people in the past 25 years that were there and can talk about it. I can only hope that the documentary will help bring about a change in this situation and hopefully change this country's  drug policy in the future

Straight, Inc. and Derivatives / Re: Dave Crock Found!
« on: March 05, 2011, 02:30:32 PM »
After looking at his wall, I noticed that he spends alot of time with puzzle building type computer fantasy games.  The times that he posts also reveal that he spends his lunch break at work at one game, (probably because no one wants to eat lunch with him which is understandable) while another is around the time that the nightly news is over.  The most game playing seems to be up until around 1 in the morning, which suggests that his day job must start around 8 or 9 in the morning.

After looking at the picture, either it is an old picture, or Dave Crock truly DOES worship Satan, because he still has all his hair AND has a bitchin tan on top of that.  I'm also willing to bet that is life is as empty and meaningless as his profile.  There really is not much difference between his page, and that of a 14 year old total DWEEB high school freshman outcast which is probably where his emotional state is forever trapped.

Dave pretty much avoided fucking with me on my program, after what I did to Chris Casselor.  I guess he did'nt want to risk being outwitted by a client, but there WAS one time he almost got me.  It was in one of my first 4th phase raps and I was caught completely off guard because it was the first time I was in such close proximity to the girls.
The rap was about using your awareness to reach out or to help the group move forward.  I got into it a little and when I was called on to relate, I spit out my two cents worth only to realize that the Sumbitch had set a trap.  Dave stood up off his stool and did that patented fucking MARTY FELDMAN BUG EYED SHIT that he always tried to intimidate people with. As my blood turned to ice-water,  he started in on me.

"Pointing out the good things and being positive in group is one thing, Bob, but why don't you ever confront people?"  "What are you, a PUSSY?"  Man, that motherfucker passed up every button on the control panel and went straight for LAUNCH!!!  My head was swimming, and not just from the damn heat in that storage area, everything was hinged on my answer.  I was'nt gonna let this whack looking asshole get away with calling me a pussy in front of the girls, but I wasn't gonna get taken away from home either.  The tension was so thick that Sean Cortierea took a pull on his asthma inhaler and thank God for that, cuz it gave me enough time to think up a reply.
"I don't confront people because I am not qualified to do your job Dave, that's what you are here for."  He just stood there totally speechless.  Holy Crap that was priceless!  He never messed with me again.

After looking over this post, I see that it could look unbelievable to some.  While this incident really happened, there WERE some staff that I really was afraid of.  I was scared shitless of Amy Wright because I knew in my heart she was psychotic and full of raging self hatred.  My feelings were further strengthened by how much Mike Murphy changed after the two became an item.  Wanda Minton was another, simply because I had her in printing class and she watched my every move.  John Legg was another one, which may sound weird to some, but the guy was completely unpredictable and I couldn't get a handle on him.  The only staff that ever really scared the hell out of me was Dr. George Ross and that was only because we had to turn in all our RSA's from the past 3 months and I had written about 53 identical RSA's on how worthless RSA's were to a growing teenager, thinking they would never be seen by anyone else.  He actually thought it was funny when I was confronted about it, but that was a close one.

Straight, Inc. and Derivatives / Re: WAITING FOR REPARATIONS
« on: January 16, 2011, 05:36:32 AM »
Straight claiming to be a non profit organization ought to be sufficient reason to have several people incarcerated for fraud and tax evasion.  Tax laws are what brought Al Capone to his demise, so why should'nt it work in our favor?

What about all those houses on the beach that were GIVEN to former staff and cronies lock, stock and barrel?  Where did the damn money come from?  There was a woman named Carol Price who worked for HRS that helped funnel kids into Straight that 'lo and behold was suddenly the owner of a two story house on Redington Beach that I know damn well did'nt pull in enough money to buy it.  This was back in 1978.  I also heard that Dave Crock and Chris Casselor both recieved beach property from Straight.  There has to be some sort of bank records of where the money came from.  There is a records division off of 49th Street North a little ways past 126th Avenue that might be of some help.  The staff there are really friendly and helpful.  Another thing that should come to light is that there was a really bad recession in 1979 that affected a lot of things including real estate and construction.  How is it that Mel Sembler was able to keep on building shit willy nilly and had enough clout to bulldoze permits that illegally allowed one of his buddies to divert storm water run-off across one of his properties near Tyrone which ended up overflowing the drainage system.  During the flood of May 8th 1979, this illegal and otherwise hidden breach of law helped contribute to the drowning deaths of an Ohio woman and her fourteen year old daughter when they were pulled into a current and sucked into a completely engulfed storm pipe while wading their way to Tyrone Square Mall.  The Sembler Company was found  partially at fault in Pinellas County Court, but it took the husband/father of the victims over 15 damn years to collect.  What's funny is that there is no record of the article in the St. Pete Times data base at the public library about the lawsuit, just articles about the flood 15 years previous.  I spent about 3 days trying to find mention of it at the St. Pete Public Library back in '04.  I even went thru the microfilm records and got zip.

The Pinellas County Tax Assessor's Office ought to be able to shed light on various properties.  If enough evidence can be accumulated that there was more wheeling dealing, and buying up and constructing going on than Mel Sembler's Company could have financed, then the money had to come from somewhere.  It sure as hell was'nt spent on lavish furnishings, AIR CONDITIONING, 10 or 12 stall boys and girls restrooms with quality fixtures, or a spacious dining room and high quality nutritious meals at the Morgan Yacht building!!!!  But this little research project should'nt just include the Original Straight, what about all the offshoots?  What about the records for Sarasota Straight or the Atlanta program?  There has got to be records of where the start up money came from.  If it all came from Sembler's bank, then maybe a lawyer can force open some bank records and see where the money trail leads.  How about the perpetual Flea Market sales at the Wagon Wheel Flea Market in Pinellas Park?
If Flea Market records can show that the booths operated as a profit making venture, then Straight's ass is grass.  In order to sell as a non-profit entity, they had to have a permit, otherwise taxes were supposed to be collected and paid.  Just writing about all this is pissing me off enough to see what I can do to contribute to this online.  I know that the Tax Assessors Office website is user friendly, because I've used it to get the dirt on shitty landlords.  If anybody wants to play detective with me lets rock!

Straight, Inc. and Derivatives / Re: This forum cheapens our memory
« on: January 14, 2011, 10:30:04 PM »
Hyde88 as in Kimberly?  I ran into Jim Sailor and Wally "Walt" Braun in the spring of '88 working for a printing firm that prints and ships Statement Packets.  It was hard not to vomit all over myself.  Luckily it was just a temp job for me.

Straight, Inc. and Derivatives / Re: Started Over Again at age 44
« on: December 24, 2010, 04:11:08 AM »
In '93 I was working for a banner towing service that flew over the Gulf Beaches.  I did'nt have a car and got around on a mountain bike.  Early one morning my co-worker and I had just set up the first run of banners for the planes to pick up at Albert Whitted Municipal Airport in Downtown St. Pete Florida.  The airport was right on the edge of Tampa Bay and only about 20 blocks from my apartment easy to get to and I made enough to get by.  Anyway, the emergency sirens started blasting at the Coast Guard base south of us, and we stood there by the seawall and watched a cutter enter the bay and start hauling ass to the south.  About 10 minutes later, the first tendrils of a huge oil slick began floating by.  This was not good.  We crossed the runway and ran to the office.  The damn phone was ringing as we got there.  It was the first of many accounts cancelling their banner orders because tar balls were already showing up on the beaches.  In the weeks that followed, the only customers left was Wagon Wheel Flea Market and a few banners that flew over Tampa.  There was'nt enough work for two men, so I was out of a job.

Luckily, I had lived in the same building a few years, so I started networking and asking friends about available jobs.  I wound up applying to a day care center to drive a van taking kids to and from school and back to the day care for after school care until their parents came and got them.  I had never worked around kids in my life, and had to go back and forth from home mornings and afternoons.  The pay was minimal, but it kept me going.  As part of the job, the boss paid me to attend night school to get the required classroom hours in childcare development, so I could go on as a Caregiver full time in the summer.  It blew a lot of peoples minds that I was working with kids.  The experience gave me enough clout to go to the head of the line once School Bus Driver positions opened up the next fall.  It wound up being the highest paying job I ever had.
So, what I am getting at is for you not to be afraid to take a step down and try something completely different.  It just may be the ticket to a brighter future.

Merry Christmas and good luck!

Straight, Inc. and Derivatives / Re: It's Xmas time again
« on: December 16, 2010, 01:48:18 AM »
I have a really twisted view of what Christmas has become in this country.  My idea of the ideal woman is Janeane Garofalo, because I know where her humor is coming from (she is due to star in a new spin-off series called Criminal Minds: Suspect Behavior probably around Feb sweeps week) I use humor to vent anger as well.  I found this next thing a few years ago and CANNOT BELIEVE it is still there, but it is a classic, and I apologize ahead of time if it offends anyone.    http://

Straight, Inc. and Derivatives / Re: Old Post From Dec. 2004
« on: December 08, 2010, 03:26:36 AM »
It's amazing how much has changed in the past six years.  I see my dad about once a month, he is actually proud of me and can't get over how well I do on such little income.  My sister had a forclosure in early "09, Scott was released from incarceration, and just last month, both mom and dad officially retired.  I give my dad about 2 more months before he starts to go nuts.  My sister actually INVENTED her own disability, and the judge just gave it to her, cuz she was so damn convincing.  She calls it ACUTE CHEMICAL SENSITIVITY SYNDROME.  She claims she can't afford Christmas presents this year, but I can.  I put an eight pack of toilet paper in a Samsung LCD monitor box (perhaps she will get the secret message) to bring her tidings of 2 ply comfort and joy.  I am basically gonna rely on my Jedi Powers to find my dad a last minute gift, and ditto for the stepmom.  My mom was easy, I got her a Snuggie.  Charo my parrot turns 11 years old on the nineteenth, and I look forward to seeing my cat Simone bouncing through the first snow, which we may get this Friday.  Last but not least, I turn a decrepit 48 years old on the thirteenth, how time flies...............

Straight, Inc. and Derivatives / Old Post From Dec. 2004
« on: December 08, 2010, 02:02:56 AM »
Get Small........
by 85 Day Jerk Sat Dec 11, 2004 9:45 pm

I remember an old Steve Martin routine called "Let's Get Small," where he replaced the word stoned with the word small. Well, sad to say, I am not gonna do that or even try to be funny. I just needed a title for what I feel like writing about right now. I think in the end we will all feel a little smaller, and if all goes well, just a little bit uncomfortable.

I have been a member of this forum for 3 years or so and there has only been ONE instance that I know of that a PARENT actually came onto the board and expressed themselves. Their handle was Snow White I believe. She expressed deep regret at the harmful effects that the program had placed on her son, got some advice and then moved on. I bet she sleeps pretty damn good too.

How about your parents? Do you even talk to them, or is it more like you see them mostly during the holidays out of some perverse sense of "owing" it to them, or to give off the impression of being a 'good normal family.' One in which it was 'okay' to house the rebelious teens in a warehouse until they "got with the program, cut their hair, brought them grades up and made a parent proud?"

"Golly Gee Willikers Mom, this is the best stuffing ever!" "Hey dad!,I can't believe you actually bought a Segway," "The Jone's don't stand a chance against you!" And we all kick back our heads like giant Pez dispensers and laugh, and laugh. Then, through the power of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ, the alarm clock rings and pulls me abruptly out of the nightmare.

In the real world, my step-mom would probably say something stupid to set me off and try to disguise it as "simple curiousity," and would be sitting there gurgling like a fish because she has a face full of butternut squash and dad is at the head of the table practicing his Thousand Yard Stare while I do a much better re-make of the Animal House Cafeteria Food Fight.

Now I don't know about the rest of you, but my family is pretty much in denial of the whole issue of Straight. I sent my dad a post card and sent one to the older sister as well. With my sis, I left her my e-mail, but hav'nt heard nothing yet. I don't call them, because the sound of their voice makes me wanna pound beers like I'm a college pledge during Rush Week. I have seen alot of folks throwing their two cents around about Documentaries, Film Projects, Court Cases, Morgan Colling and Gilbert and lastly Montel Williams. After all that is said and done, I just got one thing to ask......... What about Mom & Dad? Do you trundle over to their house for that primo Michelob and Heineken? All that free food, and fancy appetisers? How much alcohol does it take to drown your pride and douse the fire where your self respect once burned bright?

Hey, the sky's the limit, but the buck stops here when it comes to family gatherings. Oh you'll hear them say, "Because it's Christmas," Does this mean I can come up to the house at 90MPH and smash the livin shit out of every relatives car and yell, "Because it's NASCAR!!!!!????" I better stop, now because there is just no stopping how much I hate the holidays. Please don't feel bad for me, feel happy, because this really is therapuedic, (trust me it is....)
Merry Christmas, Bob in St.                                                                                                                                                                                                                Inside a warehouse behind Tyrone Mall
we walked in darkness, kept hitting the wall.
I took the time to feel for the door,
I had been "treated" but what the hell for?
85 Day Jerk
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Straight, Inc. and Derivatives / Re: HAVE WE BECOME A SHADOW OF A MEMORY
« on: August 31, 2010, 01:15:07 AM »
All I can say is to find an abandoned house, set up some skateboard ramps inside the living room, bring a ghetto blaster and play "It's the End of the World As We Know It," by R.E.M. full blast while slamming off the walls and at the end of the song make sure to throw the skateboard through a really big window.

Straight, Inc. and Derivatives / Re: Found!!
« on: August 27, 2010, 01:42:15 AM »
I remember the skit he would do where he would act like the Wicked Witch of the West and pace back and forth across the front row fucking with people and then a staffer would pretend to splash him with water and he'dd shriek and melt into the floor in a puddle.  In the winter, he did it with a jacket once and it got so low to the ground underneath of it, that it almost looked like he really HAD melted.

For those who were not in the program with me, I hail from Pinellas County Florida.  I lived in Largo with my mom (The Donut Lady) until she put me in Straight June of 1978.  Economics forced my father (Mike and Scott Lavender/Patterson's adoptive father) to pick up the reigns and take over my program.  I had to be COMPLETELY ADOPTED by my own biological father and his wife in order to legally live in their home.  My father turned custody of me over to my step dad when I was 9 and that is why I entered the program known as BOB NEWMAN.  I had all that shit going on without the benefit of drugs........ no wonder I was so fucked up.  I did not become Bob Patterson until February of 1979 in my Junior year while on Fourth Phase.  It was a major mind fuck for alot of newcomers and other people in the program to even know how to refer to me.  Bob Newman was a jerk, Bob Patterson shot through his phases like a cannonball.  Bob Newman cussed like a sailor, Bob Patterson was well spoken, I guess you get the picture.

As far as Hootchie, I used to see them whenever they played the 49th Street Mining Company.  I wasted alot of my money and my youth in that place.  Few people may know, but when the second owner took over near the end, he had a wife who was none other than Melinda Putnam, bitch extraordinaire.

I find it strange that now, after all is said and done, none of the family wants to deal with Scott, and basically treat him the way that they have always treated me once it was known that I was bipolar.  My first phase was torture.  No matter what or how I did, my family was still too fucked up to decide who I would live with, hence no progress.  I became a jerk to fill in the time until they got their shit together.  Once they did, I was moved into my father's "Compound" and helped make it one of the most split-proof and effective host homes.  I am real sorry if I got caught up in finding a purpose in all that after rotting all summer of '78 on first phase.  I bought into the program hook line and sinker.  Up until that time all my dad was to me was a sad guy that would come over for a short visit at my mom's house in Largo, hand me a check to give her, and tear ass down the road in a different car each time when the check was'nt enough to cover the child support.  I was as much a stranger living at 5248 Coral Way North as any newcomer.  When Mike and Scott went back on drugs following my moving out into Sandlewood Apartments at the tender and naive age of 18, something had to give, because I no longer fit in.  My room-mates did not work out so I had to move back "home."  It was hell living in a home I could not earn enough money to escape from, so I signed up to go in the Army.  I did'nt even make it the 9 months it would take before the induction date, before Mike and Scott got together and got me kicked out of the house over a simple transferrance of the shit they were doing.  My parents, desperate for any appearance of "normalcy" ate it up and then BLAMMO!, I was one of the first wave of "homeless" people in the eighties before it had even become fashionable.  As hard as it may seem to grasp, I am really not all that bitter about it anymore.  

Just get one thing straight though.  Florida has one of the highest rates of deaths of children in its Foster Care System.  It's record is deplorable, so when it comes to prosecuting people for Child Abuse, they aint doing it for shits and giggles.  Only the guiltiest of the guilty are incarcerated.

Wow, I can't believe it's been only 7 years since I started posting on this forum.  It seems so much longer ago, so much in my life has changed.  Moving to Tennessee surely was'nt something I would have thought of just seven years ago.  I'm not as manic as I was in the Bay Area, life is at a much slower pace here.  Depression is the big pill to swallow now.  I tried an anti-depressant called Celexa, but it just turned me into an uncaring zombie.  Glad that episode only took 2 months of my life.  I sure as hell won't forget dreaming about running from oppressors and waking up screaming with the worst leg cramp I ever had.  It would take me a good 2 hours of restless leg syndrome before the drug would take me into a deep dive beneath the icy waves of my subconscience.  While the dreams would be vivid as hell, it did little good with no real therapuetic people around to share it with.  What's worse were the mornings I would walk into the kitchen and find remnants of meals that I had made while doing some serious sleepwalking.  Particularly disturbing was a bag of popcorn in the microwave that had appeared to almost catch fire.  

I'm back to the regular rounds of meds and doing pretty good.  One thing that helped bring me out of a really depressing winter is that my young cat, Simone, had a litter of 6 kittens.  They were a real handful, but I managed to find all of them homes and even collected 10 bucks a piece for them because they were so healthy and good looking.  I got Simone spayed as soon as I could after that.  She is a calico that was feral as a kitten, until I won her over.  Her coat is like Fudge-Pecan Swirl and her left rear leg is solid Caramel colored. Her eyes are a greenish yellow, and I have learned that her meow means business when she wants out before sunrise.  She played with my overhanging foot one morning as I kept trying to dose back off, and laid my middle toe open with her claw.  It was probably an accident, but she DID have a pissed off look on her face as I let her out.  

I came pretty damn close to being in a band, but it all drizzled before it got off the ground, because of the economy and lack of a practice room.  I've been taking up Bass, but I still play guitar a bit.  My big thing is needing other people to jam with.  I've been toying with the idea of applying for some kind of business grant, if they are even available.  Musically, I have managed to aquire a Squire Bass, Squire Fat Strat, Home Made Strat, Casio keyboard, and two acoustics.  I even bought some mic stands and a couple of PA speakers.  I lucked out and found an old VHS tape of Bass Basics with a guy named Beaver Felton.  He was the Bass player for an old Florida band called Hootchie, that was injured and parylized following a tour bus wreck.  He is an excellent instructor and now owns a music shop in Central Florida, that is worth checking out if you are in the area.  I have found that playing the Bass is easier to learn than guitar was.  I just have to keep at it and maybe I'll get snapped up by another band.  All in all, it has just been a day to day struggle to not let shit get me down and try to keep a positive attitude.  I have to renew my lease for another year of glorious misadventures here in Hillbilly Hell, also known as the Cleveland Housing Authority.  I pay flat rate rent, which means I am RICH by ignorant white trash standards.  I am envied and hated upon by most of my neighbors, most of whom live off of Food Stamps and Church Aid.  The most troublesome family finally moved out into "Deluxe" accomodations up the street, following 3 years of deliberately flushing all sorts of shit down the the toilet and clogging the sewage arm.  Crews have busted the shit out of the concrete in front of their old unit for the past week, and still have not found the phantom "pipe break."  Back in '08 I took some photos of the kids dressed for halloween.  I even gave prints to the welfare moms, only to have a hillbilly family start talking shit that I was a pedophile and a pervert child molester and all sorts of other shit, because they were not included and sent their kids to a City sponsored event dressed in For-God-Sakes Underoo's as their "Halloween Costumes."  I am just glad that they are gone.  Things are back to normal now pretty much, but like the Frank Zappa song says..........The Torture Never Stops!
I'll be signing a new lease tomorrow, and with the grace of God, I'll go up north aways to a college town called Athens and register for Unemployment and maybe even get Veterans Preference.  Take it easy everybody and welcome aboard Dave Buick!     Bob in Tennessee

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