Saturday’s Ups And Downs (Unlimited)
Oh my goodness, I slept until nearly 10:30! That’s almost 11 hours of sleep, that I guess I needed. Besides, there was some stress applied to me yesterday…as seems to be par for the course in supportive housing in NYC. I’m going to listen to this new Hot Water Music album in full, and try to unpack the latest shit-fuck to land in my lap from the folks at my housing agency, for whom the verdict is still out as to whether they’re as benevolent as one would hope.
I suppose that I write a lot of these posts with the assumption that the reader has been bopping around this blog for a little while, if not the whole time, and so I don’t do the whole catch up every time as to where I am and how I got here. Plus, I have a pretty short attention span, too short to fill in the entire backstory before I go where I’m trying to go on any given Saturday.
12:30, Saturday
Oh, wait… It looks like my bitch session is either postponed or cancelled for today. A dear friend from my past, whom you might recognize from my story about getting drunk for the first time and singing that Live song “Lightening Crashes” at the top of our lungs at 3 in the morning, back in the small town where I grew up. Yes, none other than M. Robiliard. He’s got himself a construction business that needs a Facebook profile.
I say this all of the time but: isn’t life funny?
I wake up with 2$ to my name, and approximately 1.6 cigarettes and then I get a call to do something that I know I can do, especially with Gemini’s help. In fact, I’m more fixed to do something like this than I ever have. Plus, I asked for a very modest down payment, you know, to handle the nicotine deficit, here on 127th avenue.
It just seems like every time I’m about to splat on my face, boom, there’s some little occurrence to deliver me from the aforementioned face-plant.
Just when I’m feeling strapped for cash and low on smokes, an opportunity to help a friend (and earn a little dough) comes knocking. It’s moments like these that make life so unpredictable and strangely beautiful. I’m finding plenty of ways to frame life that way, lately.
The other beauty thing was simply hearing from the kid for the first time in at least a year, since we last spoke I wasn’t able to hang out with him, while he was in Queens (I think), because I was in the Lower East Side in a program waiting on the housing I’m in now. Shit, he can come to Queens any day he wants now, but he might want to bring an air mattress, as we don’t get shitfaced and pass out on the floor these days.
The post about Mike, AKA Crowbar… god, man, I've been marinating it for years, but I just want to be sure I can do the man some justice. He’s like my Uncle Richard in that sense, just a goddamn multi kilogram shipment of fishscale quality content, yet mostly untapped. I’m so far from being out of content, whenever I go back into throwback mode, to get at some of the debauchery of when I was a kid. I can’t just turn that on when I want to, even when it’s requested of me by one of my most consistent readers, Mr. P. A. Everett. Now, I think i’m having too much fun, doing shout outs, like this was Friday night, and I’ve called into Hot 97.
So, I can assure you I’m far from our of things to write about, and i’m still having as much fun writing it as I did when I got started 3 summers ago. Actually, a whole lot more fun, because the more I do it, the better I get at it, and the better I get at it… well, the more fun I have.
Saturday, 2:55, Brief return to the Shit-Fuck
Is my roommate basically unable to handle life, even the most simple parts of it? oh, fuckin-a he is. I seriously think he’d starve if I didn’t offer him the occasional hot dog, or slice of pizza (when I can, after all I am really poor). When my head is in a decent place, i’m inclined to be helpful because I know how hard even the simplest things in life can be (hard as all fuck).
I’m not going to fuck myself up to save this kid, though, not by any stretch of the imagination am I going to let that happen. There’s this whole subplot about his “friend” who is known to try to squat at apartments, and shake money out of the residents, that Angel (the roommate), somehow forgot to mention. I had to find out the truth about this Timothy character from my housing caseworker, after i had honestly thought that Tim was the new 3rd roommate for a few days. Now, if Angel wants to be dishonest by omission with some fairly important information, the mouth breathing fucker can eat a bowl of shit for all I care. It’s his call: pizza and hot dogs, or a bowl of shit (for all I care). Honesty, being the best policy, and my boundaries being clearly established at all times.
What do you think? Ev.penk7@gmail.com
Do you want me to do something like I’m doing for Unlimited Construction: evbizz17@gmail.com
Also, I may have nearly 20$, but the Evr0ck initiative could still use all the help it can get:
Ko-fi.com/evr0ck17
