Wednesday, February 07, 2007


"Those who say the past is not dead can stop and smell the smoke."—Ben Folds

So I made it, my life packed into a '95 Celica, I escaped from the clutches of purgatory in the nick of time. Apparently I got out of there so fast I left tornadoes in my wake. So the ol' celica and me lit out of town early last Friday. The same Celica that was a point of contention the last two weeks of my existence there. After telling Nemo about my intentions to leave, the first thing that came out of his mouth was "what about the car?" I bought the car three years ago from Nemo's daughter and we decided that $1,500 was a fair asking price for the vehicle. After paying $500 to them and spending over $1,500 keeping the car on the road within 8 months of title change, Nemo's daughter—the co-title holder at this point—said to me that I shouldn't have to pay the other $1,000 for the car. Cool, right. Seeing as I put all that money into a car she didn't take care of (plus another $1,500 since, give or take) it was a nice gesture. Of course it turned out to be just another broken deal between the Nemo's and I.


Packed to the gills, I was off to restart my life in the NYC. Some say I should have never left. I don't regret going down there. It needed to be done, if it wasn't Florida it would have been somewhere else. Southern California was a destination in mind, but the Texan (the ex now lives in Texas) put the kibosh on that. I learned a trade and enjoyed the weather and natural beauty of the gulf. It just that I didn't count on the junkie fucking shit up. I had to leave New York City to live next door to oxycontin shooters who break into their own cousin's and fellow employees home and steal said cousin's digital camera. Fucking Florida, man. The worst part is, the revealing of the junkies' habit came during my trip up to NY for my birthday. When I came back my cousin, the junkie and Nemo tried to cover the whole thing up like it didn't happen. Until two days later when the junkie broke in through my window and stole a digital camera and printer from my cousin's room.

It should be made clear that the junkie is Nemo's Daughter's cousin, there is no blood relation between the junkie and I thankfully. Explaining away a worthless fuck like this would be a source of embarassment to the fam worldwide. So, then, it turns out a week later Nemo tells me his daughter was also taking painkillers and that's one of many reasons why over the last year the company had lost and owed so much money to creditors and why the next six months of my life would suck. Working non-stop for the next three, having a grandmother die and then spend the next three resenting everyone you know and live with in Florida for the mistake, betrayals and just down-right business mismanagement that has made the last two years a personal fucking hell for me. As I look back on the 3 and a half years I spent there i see a pattern of selfishness, and denial that is the purgatory electric family. Good riddance to that psycologists nightmare.

As I explained to my cousin and roommate why I was leaving I stayed on the high road—it was the only way to go. I said to her that "it was unfortunate that things couldn't work out." What I really meant was fuck you. And i guess that's all there is to say about that.


It's funny how you become comfortable with certain things and then they become second nature. This econo lodge in Florence, SC was where I would stay when driving to and from Florida to New York for the holidays. It's almost exactly half way from door to door. Florence is your basic interstate city, it has two that go through it, 95 and 20 and has a US highway as well. Train tracks run right through the city and there is a train that will wake you every morning at 5:30 or so—no need for a wake-up call. It's main attraction is the Darlinton Motor Speedway, it hosts two NASCAR races. I've never been to the track, it's a couple miles up th eroad and my modus operandi in Florence is check in, eat, sleep, wake up, check out and drive. It occurred t me when I got on 95 north last saturday morning that I may never see Florence again, it's no big thing, I mean its Florence, but it was like closing a book. Now let's see if i can't sell the movie rights.




bastard central said...

i love the title. however it reminds me of the subliminal "smoke" guy from the "mr griffin goes to washington" episode of family guy

mofo said...

Whatever and ever and Amen is a great record by Folds, then with his five. It's got every emotion tucked in it. Just the idea of throwing the past on the fire and letting it burn away to nothingness, I wish I could purge the hell of the last year and a half from my cortex. It stands as a lesson learned, but that don't make it any less frustrating.

bastard central said...

well i've always found that ben folds is one of the most honest artists in music today.

when you get settled the crew must assemble and shits gotta burn

Anonymous said...

Ya know I've seen the same thing done to 1990 Suziki Swift. It was amusing then and nothing's changed.

bastard central said...

the bastard's brother in law, well, former brother in law owned that car and it had a rust spot so bad that it looked like someone took a shotgun to the hood. i think they still drive but then again, it isn't all that amusing.

Anonymous said...


For those of us who know what it is to have the need to go, keep us posted on whether or not hell awaits upon return. I do't imagine I could, or would want to, but I do wonder what Park Lane South looks like right now.

Nice Lady in law

Anonymous said...
This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
bastard central said...

rules are rules. no names

but in the interest of not editing content, the bastard will reproduce the redacted comment with names removed. fair is fair.

Purgatory? Really? Nice.

Oh, I see how you took the high road--instead of saying this bullshit to my face you decided to blog about it on here? That's great, name redacted! Thanks! Who needs enemies when I have a cousin like you?

So, yea, nevermind the rest of the bullshit you spewed seeing as there is always two sides to every story but what a fabulous way to air ones private, personal nightmare for the entire family and world to read! I appreciate the understanding and caring manner in which you handled this privlaged information. Thanks again. You're the best!

And quit talking shit about your Uncle! He's your UNCLE, asshole!

-name redacted

TW said...

No apology?

Anonymous said...

And P.S.

That fucking rust spot was ALL you. If you don't remember, let me refresh your, of course had been drinking and while backing out hit your Uncle's mailbox................oh, and the rust was born!

Apology? I don't think so. I put up with your bullshit, too. No one's perfect but at least I didn't go announce your nightmares and mistakes for all the world to read. You were wrong for and your one sided story, jerk off.

So again, thanks.

-you know who

TW said...

Rust? That's what you got? 'Cause I got plenty.

Merry Christmas.