Just a Few Questions

Not too long ago, I started asking myself some questions, interview-style. I put these in a journal, and have decided to publish them, little by little, in my blog.

Do you have any regrets?

Yes and no. I regret not pursuing a more serious career immediately after high school. I didn't even take music that seriously. Instead of learning new riffs and growing as a musician, I stayed in some kind of box. I was more interested in becoming a “star” than a serious musician.

On the other hand, I have to believe that I did the best I could do with the information I had. My parents provided little help, and disapproved of almost everything I did. IT was not a viable field at that time, and I didn't want to go to college and study more math and english. I provided myself no alternative. I resolved to either be a rock star or a homeless bum. Well, I've been a homeless bum and it wasn't much fun. There's more gray area than my stupid self realized at the time.

Also, and not to keep blaming others, but the part of the country in which I was born and raised didn't provide the best environment for success. Few jobs of any kind. I remember cutting my hair once to get a job at McDonald's. They still didn't hire me. I vowed not to do that again. I haven't. I get depressed even thinking about those days. If I'd not been so afraid, I would have moved to New York or LA immediately after high school. Of course, I have no idea what I would do once I got there, but it would surely be preferable to rotting in Southern Ohio.

As for relationships, I believe each helps us grow, so I can't really say I regret any of those. I loved a girl whose name was Sandy first. When I say love, I mean it very innocently. She was the first girl I kissed, and we barely did even that. I was way immature in that area. I ended up getting hurt really bad. The experience may have shaped the way I view relationships today.

What was it like being homeless?

When I think of being homeless, I want to brush my teeth. I found hygiene to be the toughest part. Just finding a place to wash up could consume a whole day. In Florida, Mick and I would sneak into his mom's house when she wasn't there. After a quick shower and a raid of the refrigerator, we’d be back in the van and looking for a safe place to park. In Tennessee, I usually found a convenient store bathroom, and made it quick.

Sleeping poses another problem, although I've always had a vehicle when I've been homeless. In Florida, and some in Tennessee, I had a van which was quite comfortable, except when it was really hot outside. The last time, after the tipi, all I had was a small truck. It was OK when it rained, but mostly, since I worked third shift at Walmart, I would just sleep in the park during the day, then work at night. Sleep consisted of about 4 hours a day, but it didn't last too long. Plus, I'd already been living in a tipi for two years, so I was used to sleeping on the ground.

Hail, No

Because of this, I urge all Satanists (or people who believe in the Constitution’s mandate to keep church and state separate) to move to Anderson County, SC immediately. We can form our own political party and show these clowns how it’s done. Heck, we could even start our own radio station, playing nothing but Slayer and Megadeth. We could call ourselves the 666 party.

Court

Today I went to court for the first time. Real court, I mean. Not like traffic court, where you stand in line to pay your hundred bucks, never even seeing a judge. I sat in a crowded courtroom, stood in a jam-packed hallway, and still nobody heard my story. I’ve had it all memorized for weeks. I practice it every morning in the bathroom mirror, making sure to maintain eye contact at all times. All for naught, it would seem.

The whole setup here is a perfect model of inefficiency. Hundreds of people crowd into a relatively narrow hallway and wait to speak to a single DA. If you strike a deal with the DA, he sends you back into the courtroom where you wait for the judge to do or say something. You then pay your fines, court costs, etc. (cash, of course) and you’re on your way. The whole process cost me about 4 hours today.

Shifting gears, I’ve come to a startling conclusion: I’m the father of Anna Nicole’s baby. Yes, it’s true, and I’m not gonna deny it any longer. I’m sure the tabloids will be all over me after reading this, but the truth simply must be told, damn it.

Those of you who say I was never even geographically close to Anna Nicole don’t understand the situation. You see, with ethereal impregnation it’s the amalgamation of non-corporeal astral substance which, in and of itself, is relatively inactive, with super-charged ionic distribution via conciliatory interactive channels which serve the purpose of providing a positive polarity to the inert mass. This all takes place regardless of geographical situation. Nine months later a baby pops out. WooHoo!

So, the people handling Ms Smith’s legal stuff can email me and I’ll give you an address to which the check(s) should be mailed.