Los Angeles, CA
When I was a kid, I used to think grown ups got to do cool shit like eat cake for breakfast or have two chocolate shakes while staying up all night. In case you were wondering if I was trying to recapture a more innocent time of my lost youth -- you're wrong. I had a regular breakfast at the coffeeshop (if you think chocolate chip pancakes are normal but I eat it at least once a week), but I devoured two chocolate shakes in the evening while watching episodes of Intervention.
One of the episodes was about a cokehead alkie that once had a thriving business matching up greyhound owners that wanted to breed their dogs. I mean, holy fucknuts is that a peculiar job, but apparently this guy was pulling in some serious bucks, enough that he was able to drink a handle of vodka, eat 20 Percs, and snort an entire 8-ball -- all in one day.
"He's queerer than a three dollar bill," Nicky blurted out.
She saw right through the addict and pegged him as someone in the closet. He was using coke and booze to hide his real addiction -- cock smuggling. One thing is for sure -- he was blowing lines in one bathroom and used a lot of phallic and sexual references to describe the adulation.
That cokehead drunk closet homo guy was such a compelling story that he had an entire hour-long episode to himself. The other episode we watched weaved two different stories -- a homeless street kid in San Francisco who smokes crack and an 18-year old Canadian rich suburban girl who was addicted to painkillers. She was chasing the Oxy Dragon in several scenes. Yeah, that's fucking hardcore -- smoking Oxy. I thought crushing up painkillers and snorting it was only reserved for Hells Angels and serious addicts -- but smoking it is a whole new level of fuckedupness. I want to smack a selfish junkie like that! She buys around 20 Oxys a day, which could last amateur oxy-heads a good two months of ingesting slivers and nibbles. Shit, crazy Canadian Oxy-girl uses more in one week than an entire NFL defensive line consumes in a season.
I have a morbid fascination with Intervention. I often wonder if I could be one of those people sitting in the circle and acting like a self-righteous dweeb. But most of the time, I wonder which of my friends would show up at my Intervention. Yeah, there's a fine line between an intervention and a surprise birthday party -- for one, there's no cocaine at an intervention and they rarely have cake.
The show that captivates me the most is Hoarders. I'm perplexed at every episode I see because each one of those freaks represents hundreds and thousands of other Americans that have messy homes because... 1) They are physically unable to clean or batshit crazy, or 2) They are simply filthy people who are too fucking lazy to clean up, or 3) They are compulsive shoppers and unable to not spending money on useless shit.
It's one thing to not throw out your own shit and let your house fill up with garbage. It's another to go out an spend money on stuff and then fill your house with stuff, by going broke in the process.
Nicky and I have been the anti-hoarders the last few days. All we've been doing is throwing stuff out. Nicky even cleaned out two full closets worth of clothes, shoes, and purses. I'm impressed with her tenacity to clear out the apartment and her willingness to let go of many material items. She was never even close to being a "pack rat" but after living in LA for over a decade after college ended, she definitely accumulated a lot of random stuff. The only thing I accumulated since I moved to LA were a bookcase full of books and a small collection of DVDs. Earlier this year, I began the process of selling books that were worth selling. It's dam hard to get five-fucking-bucks for any title, but I was happy to send the book off to someone who actually wanted it. I guess I wanted to give the book a good home because it actually had a semblance of hope -- unlike several other titles that would be worth 50 cents -- if I as lucky. I had a few penny books that I didn't even bother asking Nicky (or anyone else) if they wanted them. I tossed them in the dumpster.
The bums in LA are not a literate bunch. Dozens of different homeless guys, can fairies, and other folks hustling the recycle-for-cash scheme poke around the dumpster every single day. Over a week or so, they didn't take a single book. I told ya, those titles were so shitty, bums didn't even bother stealing it to wipe their ass.