Scumbury. A just Crucifixion

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My little town of Bunbury is fast becoming the ice capital of Australia. If you’re unaware of what ice is, it’s methamphetamine, a tasty and addictive substance that boosts concentration and supresses the appetite. I’ve dabbled with ice before, I enjoyed it too. But the difference between recreation and addiction, is abuse and becoming dependant on said substance as part of everyday life. I’ve seen countless friends fall victim to their own lack of will power and it topples them. It’s a little sad, but it brings a little joy to me as well (who am I kidding, a lot of joy really). I used to know some sweet people, before they became shadows of their former selves and resorted to ways of degeneracy and degradation. I’m not expecting the subjects of this post to read it, because that would indicate they have some level of understanding and brain power. The 2 people I’m going to mention in particular, have no such drive or will to better themselves and this, is the real shame that saddens me.

First off is a gentleman (broadest possible term) and I’ll call him ‘Scruffy’ because if I called him *roughly by his actual name, he might figure it out, and if he doesn’t, someone else will. I’m not a saint, I’m far from it, I’m the kind of guy who has no problem slashing your tires while you sleep and pissing in your shoes for kicks. Yes, I am a little eager to throw punches and undermine relationships and sabotage goals, but only if I feel justified. Today is one of those days, so instead of breaking the laws our local government fight so hard to uphold, I’ll simply write about it. My post might be a little all over the shop, but that’s another thing I’m working on, format and structure.

Speaking of working on, for the last 2 years or so old mate Scruffy (aka green teeth in ‘Toothless git, Brainless halfwit’ post) has been having issues with custody and pulling his head out of his ass and working towards a better future for himself and his lady friend ObeseSlut. (ObeseSlut is the closest I can get to a solid description without giving it away). Ever since I’ve known Scruffy, he has never had drive or ambition. He cries about shit within his control while doing nothing about it and looking for sympathy. It’s pathetic. Mate, if you have something you need to do, do it. Don’t dwell on it, work on your shit man, it’s that fucking simple. Put down the bong and move your ass.

Next order of business is his better half, lets call her Ginny because ObeseSlut is a little harsh. Ginny has a problem with medication, as in she cant be trusted to take the recommended dose due to her love of abusing substances. You know how you can tell someone’s grinding hard right? They’re bottom jaw seems to be stuck and they speak through their teeth because they’re too busy absentmindedly grinding their teeth. I saw Ginny and she had lost a chunk of weight but she had that grinding thing I was talking about going on, so I could only assume she was lying about getting off (clearly she was on) but I didn’t pull it up on her coz hey, what business was it of mine?

But as time changes and meth eats away at brains, tongues slip and people talk about things they don’t know, or understand. Thus leading to me writing epic masterpieces of truth and reality, and this combination of brilliance is occasionally frowned upon. Often resulting in chipped pride, damaged egos and the sudden realisation of, “Holy fuck. He nailed it. I hate what he said but deep down, I know it’s true. As usual.” You’ll notice I’m haven’t mentioned any names or descriptions, thus I’m not breaking any laws and to do so would be unwise on anyone’s part.

I was good friends with Scruffy and Ginny. Was. That was before I saw through the charade of their bullshit and claims of friendship. I remember having a go at scruffy for making light of my good mate’s dog passing away while said mate sat silently in tears unable to speak, because we just put him down that day. So I tell Scruffy to shut his fucking mouth and show some respect. He doesn’t like it, neither did Ginny. Ginny told me “Don’t speak to my boyfriend like that”. I told her if he had any semblance of respect or decency, then he would know what’s appropriate and making fun of my buddy’s late dog isn’t it. And this is where we let it slide and continue our mourning for the beautiful puppy. I headed back to Donnybrook that day, and 3 days later I got a message from Ginny telling me I’m arrogant, a junkie ( clearly she’s projecting by this stage, and was on the gear for the 2 days after I left, so I understand her confusion), that I’m not welcome at the house where she owes her house mate 2000+ in rent, I’m lucky I didn’t get my teeth punched in, etc etc etc blah blah fucking blah. I took a screenshot of it, I’m have to dig it up and post to the blog. But anyway. Cunts be fucking crazy.

You know how you get tired and you start missing things and failing to properly process information? Say after 24 hours?.. Imagine doing it for 4 days. With no food and little liquid. It takes a toll physically and mentally, as is evident in the ludicrous claims from the light of this subject. It’s retarded. Get some sleep, lay off the pipe and get a sense of responsibility. Jesus Christ. Even Pinky has a handle on shit, I thought she was a train wreck, but she’s nothing compared to you guys. She still has her kids, her own home and family… And she’s a decent human being. Pinky is witty, honest, reliable, an active parent. Pinky I’m sorry to compare you to these guys, I mean no offence, I’m just trying to make a point.

This behaviour can be any meth enthusiast.
*indicates a clever pun

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