Archive for the heroin Category

BLOG #29 – The PRICK, the proctologist and PIGIN English…

Posted in Family, family battles, grandmothers, heroin, siblings, Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on August 23, 2011 by tenaciousbitch

HELLO ALL….so here’s the latest on life in CRACKLAND….

My cell woke me up at around 9:30 a couple of nights ago. No LAUGHING….yes, I was asleep at 9:30 p.m. on a Wednesday. SHUT UP…remember, Nana Maude is NOT an old fart for the weak of heart, i.e., being her HAMSTER on a neverending wheel is very taxing. When Danny was Nana’s caretaker, he usually didn’t make it much past 7:30, which I CAN VERIFY having visited them while he was the chief cook and bottle washer for Nana….Anyway, it was Jack, who woke me from my slumber. And he had an interesting report. shall we say, about Danny.

Apparently, Danny called HIM (Jack) three times that morning. He woke HIM up at 5:22 a.m., 5:28 a.m. and finally at 5:33 a.m. before Jack finally answered the phone. Can you say…TWEAKER….been up all night slurping COCAINE?  And, according to Jack, the conversation went something like this:

Jack began the conversation with, “Hey, dude, how’s it goin’?

DANNY: Pretty shitty, man. I’m piss fucking broke.

JACK: Sorry to hear that. No luck finding a job-?

DANNY: Look, Jack, I…uh, need to…could I borrow $100?

JACK: I don’t have $100. With this damned heat, my electric bill was $280, which I just paid as well as the payment to the mortgage slumlord, and Laura asked for her fucking child support early AGAIN.

DANNY: Fucking bitch. Why don’t you just say no and give it to her next-?

JACK: Look, um, Danny, I’ve gotta get ready for work, so –

DANNY: You still have that Visa, the one through Bank of America?

JACK: Yeah, why?

DANNY: You know your pin?

JACK: No. Why?

DANNY: You know, you can call them to get your pin or apply to get one.

JACK: No, I’m NOT calling them.

DANNY: Why, is it maxed out?

JACK: No, but I’m not-

DANNY: Look, asshole, you owe me! If it wasn’t for me, you wouldn’t even HAVE that Visa!

JACK: What the fuck’re you talking about?

DANNY: I got you that Visa, remember? When you were in the hospital?

JACK: Danny, all you did was fill out the online app for me because I couldn’t use a computer for a month after breaking my arm. Plus, my neck hurt so fucking much I couldn’t concentrate – especially with the pain pills. And my bills-

DANNY: And you couldn’t work for a month, and Laura was threatening to put your ass in jail the minute you got out of the hospital cuz you were behind on your child support already when you totaled your Jeep, and –

JACK: So? It’s still my fucking card, Danny, not yours. I pay the goddamned bill. When was the last time YOU paid your own fucking bills, Danny, like 87? And why don’t you just get a job instead of calling-?

DANNY: I don’t have any transportation, remember? My sister stole my fucking car!

(At this point, Jack said he had to cover his mouth to keep from laughing since he KNOWS the whole story about selling the BMW – see posts #10-15).

JACK:  What? They don’t have buses in Wilmington?

DANNY: No, I’m in Myrtle Beach. Nate moved outta Wilmington a couple years ago. We’re like three blocks from the beach.

JACK:  There were a shit ton of restaurants right on the beach, Danny, when I visited you and Belinda 4/5 years ago. With your work history, why can’t you get a job at Denny’s or somewhere?

DANNY: I’m nowhere near Denny’s. And like I said, I DON’T HAVE A CAR!

JACK:  (laughs) So? You’re telling me there’s no McDonald’s nearby or a –

DANNY: (SCREAMING) I’m not working at a fucking McDonald’s, Jack!

JACK: Oh, I see. You’re too good to work at McDonald’s, but you’re not too good to beg your friends for money.

DANNY: I’m not asking for that much, Jack! Not considering what YOU make a year!

JACK: Yeah, what I MAKE, what I EARN getting up every day and going to WORK, something you seem to be allergic to –

DANNY: LOOK, you fucking prick-

JACK: So, tell me, Danny, you got any pots and pans?

DANNY: What the hell -? Yeah? Why?

JACK:  I’ve heard panhandlers can make $200 to $300/day, sometimes more. And I’ve heard the best place is at the corner DESPERATE and DUMBASS LANE –

DANNY: Fuck you, you piece of shit!  Where do you get off talking to me like that after all I’ve done for you!

JACK: Really? And what exactly have you done besides spending 10 minutes on a credit card application? What noble deeds have you done, Danny?? Have you lent me money?

DANNY: ….(pause)….No, but I –

JACK: And you haven’t exactly paid me back for that $1400 I gave you to pay the lawyer when you and Belinda split up-

DANNY: But I will! And you know it!

JACK: Uh, huh, yeah, whatever. Did you sell me a stolen TV ?

DANNY: What? That TV wasn’t stolen (see Blog 23)! I bought it with Dad’s Sears card -!

JACK: Really? What happened to that GUY you bought it from who was going through a divorce and needed to sell it dirt cheap? You pay HIM with a Sears card?

(See told ya, there’s always A GUY…. see blog 27)…

DANNY: Fuck you, you fucking prick! I, uh… My dad died remember, dumb ass?

JACK: Making that Sears payment, are ya?

DANNY: What the fuck, JACK. He’s DEAD, and I don’t have enough fucking money to buy a cup of coffee much less pay Sears! And why would I-

JACK: So, if the TV hasn’t been paid for, how EXACTLY is that NOT stealing?

DANNY: That’s BULLSHIT, and that doesn’t change the fact that you’re refusing to help ME, your best friend, you no-good mother-fucker!

JACK: Yeah, you’re right. I’M the fucking asshole, the worst fucking person on the planet, the tight-fisted son of a bitch who won’t give you a fucking dime. Feel free to remember that the next time you think about calling ME asking for money.

DANNY: What?


YES, Jack hung up on his BEST friend, Danny….and he was giggling like a school girl when the connection was SEVERED.

“Oh, my God,” I said laughing after Jack ENLIGHTENED me as to the substance/minute- by-minute description of his conversation with Danny. “That’s great. I can’t believe you said that!”


“I get so mad at him, I can’t think of anything that clever.”

“What? You mean to tell me that MOI, that yours truly thinks faster on his size 13 feet than the EDITOR/former professor? I’m honored, Dr. Smith.”

A large exhalation of laughter from me. “Please don’t call me Dr. Smith. That was the name of my dad’s proctologist.”

A LOUD belt of LAUGHTER from Jack, and then, he said, “Are you serious? Your dad, Mr. Jonathan Smith, went to a proctologist named Dr. Smith?”

“Yeah, I know right? And, no, the guy wasn’t a relative.”

“Still, too fucking weird,” Jack said. Then, his tone darkened, “Oh, shit.”


“Yet ANOTHER text from Danny.”

“Are you serious?” I asked.

“Yeah, listen to this (reading Danny’s text): You a dead man, Jack, dont step near myrtle – (and he spelled it mrtle) beach cuz yo won cross you come hom in body bad….

“Jesus, H,” I chuckled, “he’s starting to sound like he’s writing Pidgin English, like your average Asian or something. And he’s not even making up original threats. He’s recycling them.”

Jack coughed up a half-smothered laugh on that one. “Oh, yeah, forgot about YOUR death threats. You sound pretty good for a corpse.”

“Thanks, though I don’t doubt that IF Danny could get to Ohio, he would, and he’d gladly beat the shit out of me, but since the government isn’t giving out free cars or anything, I’m not really worried about him showing up on my doorstep, brass knuckles in-hand. I just have to pray he doesn’t win the lottery.”

“Don’t give me new nightmares, there, Kennedy.”

“I think Danny’s the one trying to pull a Freddie Kruger.”

“True. And get this, after getting like TWELVE texts from him that morning, I finally called him back, and Nate answered. And he actually told me to fuck off. What’s up with that? Nate and I were never best friends, but -”

“Ya gotta remember how Danny is. Who knows what the FUCK he said about you to Nate. For all you know, Danny told Nate that Bank of America credit card is in HIS name, as in – in Danny’s name, and you’ve maxed it out, and that’s WHY he can’t use that card or God knows what.”

“Yeah, it’s not like Nate would ask to actually SEE the card.”

Jack and I shared a few more laughs at Danny’s expense and said our goodbyes. Although, I have to admit that I’m worried WHAT Danny will do when his balls are REALLY against the wall. I pray EVERY night he won’t buy a gun and start robbing little old ladies or liquor stores or start dealing drugs. But at least since Jack isn’t ENABLING him with cash….maybe his refusal to fund Danny’s lifestyle of sloth and sin, maybe, that will stave off the purchase of a 38 special. On the other hand, I fear nothing will prevent him from dealing drugs if the opportunity presents itself.

So, those of you who DO believe, say a prayer that idle threats are as close as Danny gets to any REAL crimes…TA for now…

Oh, and btw, about the ISSUES with Max…after spending THREE nights sleeping in his FORD PROBE (yeah, SO comfy for Max’s 6’4″ frame), Max texted me asking if he and Sienna could come over and take a shower b/c he had a job interview. An hour after he showered/donned fresh clothes, etc., he and I had a long conversation about drugs and his future. With tears milling about his tired green eyes, he said, “I swear on a stack of bibles, I quit. No more weed, I promise…if I can just come home, please?”

And come home he did. However, the shenanigans which have transpired in the last 22 days since that long discourse – will be food for future posts since he’ll probably be snoring in his car again pretty soon….

For now, on a laugh and a prayer….eternally yours, KENNEDY, the kill joy/DIRECTOR of CHEECH and CHONG’S worst nightmare…

~Tenacious bitch/KS and her bag of tricks… 🙂