Its almost midnight, I'm at work and tranqued out listening to Todd Rundgren. Its considered a shitty album. His last to fulfill a long contract. He did it all by himself I think. Solituded himself and wrote some unique music. Single from album is bang the drum. I might not even listen to that. I might put Panteras last album back on (reinventing the steel) and air drum. Work up a sweat. It calms me down.
But I accidentally dosed my self. I don't like being pilled out and i don't feel relief. I feel a deep underground river of panic and anger running deep through my veins and heart. And a dull dirty icy crust of benzos on top slowing me down, making me artificially tired and lethargic. Drugs i ingested are my prescription. I thought I needed to chill. So I didn't beat the shit physically out of someone, a late fifties non combat non overseas veteran who i trade out with five nights a week.
Racecar Reggie people call him.
He wears sweaty looking fingerless leather gloves he says because he's a germ nut. He has a grey mustache and the edge of his upper lip is stained black from the shitty Pall Mall cigarettes he chain smokes. He is a nice guy and I try not to give him a reason for a nother heart attack. Smoke another bone, Reggie. I will join you.
He is the reason I am Tranquilized like a 50s house wife taking a break from vacuuming and sitting down listening to soft rock by a rich genius. This is the only album of Rundgren I have on my phone.
Trying to save data.
Accidentally heard bang the drum while editing this.
I do want to work and bang the drum while working and getting overtime. I like getting paid to do stuff i would usually have to pay to do, or something i don't like but if it takes up time at work, and I get paid (to exercise for example), it's win win.
I got paid to watch one of the mormon vampire movies by taking a middle aged child molester from work. He did more activities than I did in my free time. He was developmentally disabled.
But his molester burrito dick wasn't. My first few minutes on my first shift with him he made me inspect it because he said it hurt. He had been fucking between the mattress and box spring and had chafed his horse cock. Thick and fat and hard for kids. Before i got fired for taking him to house to burn some dvds for my pirate dvd business they bought him some ky. We talked about getting him a pocket pussy. When we would go to my house for me to start the dvd burn he would look at my playboys i left lying around. I got sick of searching his room in the group home for triggers, anything resembling kids or even animals kid like.
I figured he could put some adults in the I would say spank bank but more accurately lubed cock and mattress bank. So i let him look. I felt bad after i got fired and he told everyone i let him see the playboy's. I even showed him an episode of cathouse on demand from HBO.
I had a lot of guilt about those things I did. But you know what? If I was locked up in a group home stuck fucking my matress, I would want some kind fellow to let me see some erotica. Maybe not. Anyway fuck that guy. Snitches get stitches.
On their dick after fucking their matress.
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