My Extremely Poor Attitude

Search terms people looked up:
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(*bop wadda bop bibby-dibby dip)
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The thing that I do not like about myself is the pictures. I like to see a picture of me with more hair than face, not a bullet head on a massive body. But, that’s what I saw. My wife was going through pictures and it was out. Then, in the process of knowing that that is the figure which people have to be with, I continue to have to deal with the people themselves coming at me with their deals in mind which benefit them, and still to negotiate in my put-out manner, all the time knowing I may lisp a word and reveal my gayness, for as long as life endures. Also, my horizons are the petty ones left over from strategies I used for decades to get and smoke the very dope you want to know about. Combine the foregoing with the similarity to being hung over from now being first thing in the morning, and I mean, “Wow.” I am at a point where I am ready to join the Marine Corps. I want to flop down on my belly repeatedly. I want a brutal, dumb guy to scream in my ear how worthless I am. I wish to scrub the latrine with a toothbrush.

“make meth”. you want to make meth, or you want me to make meth? Listen, don’t you ever, ever tell me what to do. People who don’t even use meth say “meth”, and they say it so many times that it starts to sound like a gas instead of a solid, and the “th” sound is borderline retarded, as if in ancient Egypt they had a city called Thebes where all the lisping faggots lived. It was like a leper colony. Egyptians took care of their disabled. They also took care of their slaves. The people who built the pyramids were called slaves, but they paid ’em. These slaves were paid quite well. I know I am lying. Well, it is Sunday. No, sometimes I want to mispronounce methamphetamine, so, I am going to just do it: methanthetamine, or, nethanthetamine.

“Mom, nee and Nad ‘moked tun nethanthetamine coupla tines.” This is how you will be talking with no front teeth if you keep smoking that shit. Coke is different. If you reinforce the word ‘coke’ on ‘coke’, testing, coke 1, 2, 3, it starts to sound like a solid. Oil is a liquid. The solid carbon clinker from petroleum processing is called “coke”; that’s the only word coke. “Coke” as “Coca-Cola” is a little thin. Coal and coke, I mean, if you live in Kentucky you can speak the first word. If you live in San Pedro, you can speak the second word. If you live in Wilmington, CA, you can speak a third word, “sulfur”. Why God made that I don’t know. Where are the mountains of meth? I do not clean my bathroom, so it is dirty and nasty (where are the mountains of rock, snow, ice and dirt?) The woman is supposed to do that(where are the bunny slippers?). I pictured myself cleaning it. What an insult. I decided, “Naw.” That sounds good, though. Should I gnaw my fingernails while I am sitting here, or get up and get a piece of bread?

“how to make smokable meth”

Crystal meth is already smokable, so that’s easy. You and your friends can trap and re-educate anybody who is cutting dope so bad it chars. By the time I ever got there, they only sold the rocks of dope itself, but this is California. What the dealers could be reading or thinking on the subject of stretching the dope to make more money might have to be supplanted by more accurate information, or you are going to have to horn it to get a buzz. That you can do with no equipment, but Jesus. You might be like this guy Steve Patrick of Riverside. We were on Lime Street. Do you know Lime Street? Well, I totally quit all drugs, alcohol and cigarettes years before, but the cheap area of town is the cheap area of town, so I continued to cohabitate around spics and drug addicts, and good luck to you, sir, if you are doing that. I had to be a saint to do my parole. Now, where do I go from here, to the rest room? Now I remember. Am I sure I wasn’t using in Riverside, because my whole life sure revolved around making peace the best I could around junkies, every one of which beat me. Steve Patrick left the remains of doing dope with my wife while I was at work. I came home and she was blotto, in a purple nightgown. So if you want to tease someone who isn’t a cop, nonchalantly leave the paraphernalia lying around. That is, a dollar bill will get you busted rolled up, and it won’t get you busted unrolled. Your face will get you busted. Get rid of the residue around your nostrils. Snort up some water. Comb your hair. Good for you. Tuck in your shirt. You’re getting sucked up. Don’t keep snorting the drip. Drop your head to your chest. Give ’em the profile. Be the humble man. Don’t eyeball someone who isn’t about to hit you. Keep your hands away from your face.

“how to make meth from matches”

It is the paper striker contg. red P and ground glass you want. My little idea is that there is a lot more of that material on road flares. No, my bad. There’s only a little patch of that. There’s a big dollop of the other mixture.

(hey Fauna. You wanna? Fmunda. Fmunda cheese. Fudna. Sudna)

“how to make meth with one inhaler”

You can’t get right-handed meth out of any inhaler sold today. Inhalers are bunk.

“how to blow a meth pip”

To get a flame hot enough to blow glass, employ a narrow elastic tube with a metal insert closed way down to produce a tiny stream of air. Put the end in your mouth and this blowpipe will increase the temperature by you blowing sideways into the flame from an alcohol lamp. A candle is going to give you grief from the soot. The proper meth freak acts like a grease monkey, with lots of tools. A Bernzomatic torch would go unnoticed. With that, it’s all over.

Usually starting with a piece of glass tubing, heat the end until you can close it. You need a surface for that, like asbestos, or just get it so soft it just closes, or maybe you can get away with using pliers on it. Once it is closed, heat the end and fill it with air until a bubble forms. Then stop. Hold the flame against the bubble in one spot and maybe dig a hole with a paper clip, maybe blow another bubble which bursts. Fire polish any sharp edges and you’re done. The glass tube to start with is found in most liquor stores in the ghetto up at the counter with a little rose inside. I’m not a user. If I see that I denounce the clerk for whatever Cuban clown or turbanhead he is, assuming somebody else is in the store downloading beer while I keep him busy. “Do you want a bag?” “No. Can’t afford it.”

“Uncle Fester’s meth recipe”

Now, have I turned your head to send me money saying that this book will solve all your problems, and this is what you need? Wise up. More folks have been busted and lost their copy of “Secrets of Methamphetamine Manufacture”, including me, than you realize such that Fester is the cops’ best friend. There aren’t any secrets, see? I put ’em all down.

LOOMPANICS 1999
The best book catalog in the world
Page 141

Uncle Fester says in his Preface: “After too long of an absence, I, at great risk to myself and my liberty, have once again climbed into the Captain’s Chair to first-handedly probe today’s rapidly evolving cooking environment. My stint hasn’t been fruitless. Rather, it has brought about the crowning achievement of my 17+ years’ involvement in the clandestine manufacture of ‘controlled substances’. This is the fourth edition of Secrets of Methamphetamine Manufacture, now subtitled Including Recipes for MDA, Ecstasy, and Other Psychedelic Amphetamines“.
etc.

I have said I’m the best, in this blog. I don’t use the word “in” in the sense of “in the industry”, like Fester does. Unlike cars and guns, which have trade shows, we don’t have a trade show. At a trade show, it is easy to see who the best is. This is a little more subtle. The best among us is a bird’s eye view. I like the cop all in black with the lug sole of his boot against the back of your neck, and an assault rifle barrel pressed aginst your midsection.

“how to weigh out meth”

But, until that blessed day I may as well teach you how to clown. Of course, the littlest evidence can be the worst thing, so, I don’t know what you are comfortable possessing, but that’s what it gets right down to, isn’t it? What makes sense to explain all the items in your possession in toto?

Don’t have a scale. Make your dealers have a scale. If they don’t, shorting them is easy. Don’t short yourself. Know something about what the gram weight of spoons or kitchen measuring spoons is. Never pay somebody back. Suppose you already paid them back, and you repay them a second time? I’ve done this. I mean, stand there and look at someone and don’t have a charge of electricity in your brain prompt you. Only hear them, not yourself.

With your dealer’s scale out, and it is dark, with candles, so no one can see in, a nice triple-beam, no fucking music, weigh a nickel, know what it weighs, a bag, a spatula, and a teaspoon measuring spoon, stick it in, rake it off with the spatula, a level teaspoon, say “one”, dump it on the pan, say, “two”, using the word, “tablespoons”, get it all weighed out, do them a favor of some kind, use their credit card to scrape it all off into a bag, say it’ll pick up moisture, and it probably will. Learn a little sleight-of-hand, to steal. When you scrape the pan off leave yourself a line on there, snort it up. It has already been weighed. Have your confederate start the car. Get the money. Hand them their weighed dope. Use the metric system. A ounce is 28.4 grams, so a quarter-ounce is seven-point-zero grams. This is on the selling side. On the buying side, you are making it; there is no buying side. As far as they are concerned, you are a middleman, not a manufacturer. tell them, “I want to walk in and go to the back with you. As far as anybody sitting out there knows, you are selling it to me. I am hot. I have fishnet stockings on with no underwear. I am getting this for my boyfriend.” Nevermind [about] your rank and warty pussy. They’ll believe you.

[7/6/09]