Notice: Function _load_textdomain_just_in_time was called incorrectly. Translation loading for the complianz-gdpr domain was triggered too early. This is usually an indicator for some code in the plugin or theme running too early. Translations should be loaded at the init action or later. Please see Debugging in WordPress for more information. (This message was added in version 6.7.0.) in /home/gayhajvi/my-sanfrancisco.life/wp-includes/functions.php on line 6114
F'd up situations | My San Francisco Life

Situation Fucked Up, All Normal.

The weirdest thing happened to me the other night.    I had a hookup, and so I’ll start with that because that was weird.

I got on Grindr and immediately got a message.  That wasn’t so weird but within 3 messages, we had a plan to meet.   That is weird.  Usually it takes hundreds of messages and questions before the plan is finalized, but this happened in a matter of seconds.

The plan was to meet the next day.    He was about an hour away, so I decided to get a hotel room.   Then I got a flat tire.     I rushed to Walmart to see if they could repair it and change my oil.   The fixed the tire, but couldn’t get the hood of the truck opened.   I went and looked and indeed, the grill bar looked like it had been hit in such a way that it was pressed up against the hood, preventing it from being opened.  Whatever.   It had already been 3 hours so I just left.  

After getting packed, I headed out.   He was texting me the whole time and wanted me to pick him up at the hospital- his friends had dropped him off there.    I got to the hospital, he was out front.   He was a very handsome guy, about 20 years younger than me.    He said I was sexy and we were off to the hotel.

We got a little high and started fucking around.  After a while we decided to bring in a third.   I must have hit the G a little hard because I ended up taking a g nap and when I woke up, one of the guys we had been talking to was just entering the room.  

We all got a little higher and messed around.  I took some more G and that was a mistake, I passed out.

When I woke up, I couldn’t believe what I saw.

The hotel room looked as if I had just walked in the door.    It was spotless.   All of the jocks and underwear I had out where put away.   Not a thing was missing.  In fact, there were 3 extra cock rings and a bag of ginger snaps.    Nobody else was there.    I kind of just stood there in disbelief – I had a lot of things that could have been taken – my laptop, a projector, lot of clothes, bondage equipment the party favors, my nice bong.

We had Taco Bell delivered earlier in the night and all of the trash was gone. The only thing in the trash was a hospital bracelet. And the only thing on the counter was two prescription receipts from Walgreens.

As I was leaving, I found a note in the door. It was from the third, leaving his number and explaining that guy #2 (I’ll be guy #1) freaked out and insisted that he be taken to the truck stop across town.

So fucking weird.

Hacked….

So this site got hacked and some asshole put some virus on here. I had to completely delete the whole thing and re-create it. Some images are still not working. The virus only seemed to affect the files on the site and the webserver, you wouldn’t have been affected by just reading. Anyway, there is much stronger security on the site now so it won’t happen again.

How to be a Great Houseguest

I have had my share of houseguests over the years. Mostly because I have always had a house, a job, food in the fridge and clean sheets. Some of the guests have stayed a bit longer than originally planned. More than once. This article is aimed at those who don’t seem to know how to behave at their host’s house. Mostly tweakers, true.

Rule #1: You have to help your host keep the house clean. Especially if you are a slob. Treat the host’s furniture and items with care. If your host is working (which he probably is since he has a place for you to stay) help out by cleaning up after him while he’s working. Pick up the mail, answer the door, assist him. You’re not doing anything else, just do it.

Rule #2: Don’t eat the host’s food. Unless you are invited, don’t start eating the host’s food. Go buy your own damn food. If you don’t have any money, get SNAP or other government assistance. Your host is NOT your food source. Offer to pay for 1/2 his grocery bill, bring in food to share. You should not expect your host to feed you every meal. This is a great way to build resentments. If you do eat food, don’t leave just a tiny bit of the thing in the container and put it back in the fridge. This is infuriating! Just eat it all but TELL THE HOST that you ate the last of it so he doesn’t get all pissed when he goes to look for it and finds it all gone.

Rule #3: Ask to use anything that belongs to the host. Don’t just go find the tape and use it, ask first. What’s his ISN’T yours and you should ask.

Rule #4: Clear and share all hookups with the host. Don’t invite anyone over that the host may know or may have past experience with. Be sure to get approval before inviting anyone into the house.

Rule #5: This really should go without saying, but unfortunately it must be said: DON’T FUCKING STEAL, BITCH. Yeah, most tweakers steal, BUT NOT FROM THEIR FUCKING FRIENDS. C’mon. Stealing is wrong. Stealing from your friends should be a capital offense.

Rule #6: Don’t get in his fucking way – if he works, stay away from the shower in the hours before he has to be at work. Notice when he does laundry and keep it open when he normally uses it. Have some fucking courtesy.

Rule #7: No fucking pets. Seriously.

I took my last stray last January. I won’t be having any more.

Why I use Meth

by Luke A Lawton

I use meth to treat ADHD. Go ahead, laugh. It doesn’t bother me, I don’t care what you think. If you want to know why I use meth to treat ADHD, it is because it works. Ever wonder what Adderal or Ritalin is? According to a study published by the National Institute of Health, Adderall and methamphetamine are “almost identical in structure”. And don’t ask it – I already know what you’re thinking and the answer is coming up.

I’ve suffered from this god awful condition as long as I can remember.   In school, teachers would say “If Luke would just slow down and check his work, he would be a straight A student.” and the report cards would always say the same.   School came very easy and I never studied.   I graduated second in my class and that was after failing one semester of chemistry after an unfortunate high school arrest.  

School was easy, but finding my wallet, my keys, my books or anything else for that matter was not.  I always had 1000 projects going (and still do for the most part) and never finished any of them.  In my adult life, I’ve come to understand the nature of my problem is not lack of intelligence, nor is it a poor memory.   My mind is so active that I simply cannot pay attention to what the rest of my body is doing.  I’ll be caught up in a firestorm in my head – plotting and planning and designing and snap back to reality to find myself in a physical place of which I just arrived with no recollection of getting there.      About 20,000 times per day I unknowingly set down my phone and have no idea where it is.   Not because I don’t remember where I set it, because I didn’t have the knowledge of where my hand put the fucking phone in the first place.. Simply put, I do not have the capacity to pay attention to myself under certain circumstances.

Which brings us to the question that you didn’t ask – why not use legally prescribed Adderall instead of illegally procured methamphetamine?  Here are a few reasons:

 

  • I have been trying to get medication for over 20 years and have been unable to do so.
  • It’s cheaper and easier to get.
  • It works better than Adderall.

You’re probably wondering how I know that it works better than Adderall if I’ve never been prescribed it. And to answer that, I have gotten it several times on the black market and done comparisons. Given the choice between the two, I of course would choose legally prescribed Adderall.

I have had ADHD meds prescribed to me, but here is how it goes – doctors have to try non-addictive choices first – and I get that. The first one they try is almost always Welbutrin (I’ve been on that many times) which does nothing for me. Then they try anti-depressants (I’m not depressed, I have ADHD). I’ve been on Cymbalta which was HELL. Getting of it took 6 months of tapering off and I had electrical shocks in my head during the whole process. Then once I was on Strattera and valium, xanax and klonopin which seriously made me crazy. So crazy that I ended up in medical detox in the hospital for 30 days. Not a fun experience. The medical world has failed me here.

Recently I decided to try the legal route of the doctor again. But ran into a road block – the shrink won’t see me until I get ADHD testing done and literally the only thing my health insurance doesn’t cover is ADHD testing. I could get a sex change and they would cover it, but not ADHD testing.

So there you have it.

Decriminalizing Addiction

San Francisco is a pretty screwy place.   You can’t buy cigarettes in drug stores, you can’t buy Menthol cigarettes anywhere (something about targeting black people), plastic straws are illegal and so are plastic bags.   It’s not uncommon to see a naked dude walking down the street and people who ride public transportation are seen to be of a higher intelligence that those who drive.  It’s beautiful and filthy, accepting and intolerant,  and sweet and sour.

The city does a lot of things wrong.   One thing it’s doing right is how addiction is viewed and how drug addicts are treated.   On more than one occasion, I’ve been in a situation where I was searched and where the police found a pipe with shit in it or a little baggie.  In all cases (except for one, and that was because the officers were not from San Francisco) said paraphernalia was returned to me and I was told to go on about my merry way. No judgemental comments, no tickets, no warnings, nothing. Why? Because the San Francisco Police have been trained that drug addiction is something to help, not lock up. Can you imagine being stopped by the police and when they noticed you had a sniffle being handcuffed? Having a drug addiction is no more of a crime than having a cold.

Now if I would have been dealing those drugs, then yes – my ass should have been arrested. But don’t spend your time telling us run of the mill average everyday addicts that it’s a disease when we’re trying to get clean and arresting us when we’re not. And if my addiction isn’t causing me or anyone else harm, just leave me the fuck alone.

How many jobs have you been fired from in your lifetime? Me: Zero. How much money do you make / year? Oh $60,000 – are you just successful? This meth addict is pushing $200,000 / year and that is 100% legal activity that money’s coming from – a job with benefits paid for by my employer in their entirety. Now the next time you get drunk and run over your neighbor’s garbage can sit back and tell me my life is unmanageable. Or when you walk down to get your disability check because you’re so fat you can’t work or just too plain lazy to get a job don’t forget to stop to call and tell me that I’m a fucking burden on society.

Better yet, next time you get the fucking flu just go right to the police station and turn yourself in – we don’t want your kind roaming the streets.

No Time Served

LA County Jail’s Twin Towers house more prisoners than most Midwest towns.  The Twin Towers dominate the skyline in the area and the energy is heavy.     I flew in to pay a visit to a good friend in for a probation violation.     He is in the building between the Twin Towers, known as Men’s Central Jail.  This is where the county houses the gay population, separated for safety.  

To visit someone in LA County custody, one must make an appointment.   This appointment is like no other appointment you will ever make.    You think getting someone from the IRS on the phone is difficult?  Think again.  I tried for a month daily to get an appointment but there was never one available.   I figured the system was fucked up and if i went there in person I would surely be able to see him. I had already bought the ticket so that was all that I could think to do.

As it turns out, there are rules. Lots of them. First off, you have to be approved as a visitor, with a background check and everything. And you can’t be a felon. You can’t have orange hair, you can’t be left handed, you can’t like Pink Floyd.

Then there are the rules they don’t tell you about. Like this one: You have to make the appointment exactly 7 days in advance. Not 6, not 8, not 14 or 31. 7. It’s the only option. But you don’t know this because they don’t tell you and they won’t answer their phone and they don’t check their email. And they don’t fucking care that you . just flew 2000 fucking miles to get to the fucked up hell hole that is LA only to be told to just go the fuck home.

I am not bitter.

The above is an example of sarcasm.

I was feet from the dude and they didn’t let me see him. They have 15,000 prisoners and only 15 slots per week I’m told. Fuck them. I spent $2000 to come to your shit hole.

Reflections on the Holiday Season – the Season of Stealing

Last year right about this time I had a trick over from Scruff. He stole my laptop. Luckily I had iCloud on it I had the guys name his phone number and because I had iCloud I knew exactly where the laptop was.

I walk to the police station. I file the report. The San Francisco police department refused to do anything about it even after giving him the person’ name, the person’s number, their location, the serial number of the laptop and a picture of the thief.

Merry fucking Christmas. This  Police Station was one in a neighborhood that isn’t even busy for them.  Nobody speeds, there’s no crime for the most part and they seem to spend a lot of time at the convenience store.

I mean seriously what the fuck?

I could maybe see it if it were in a high-crime neighborhood.  But it’s not.

The non-action clearly states that they don’t care.  Certainly doesn’t make me feel safe.

This is the kind of thing that makes ordinary citizens take things into their own hands.