there was crack EVERYWHERE

My veins are coming back. Hooray!

I got a comment the other day where someone said that they hoped that my blog was fiction and not what actually happens. Sister, that makes two of us.

Micheal called me the other day. I told him that I have my own place now, the "undisclosed location" that no crackheads or dope fiends or evil cops know of. The only person (besides the other people in the building) who knows I live there is Greggie, and I like him coming over. Also I know he won't tell anyone, even if he gets mad at me. Because there's 3 ways to communicate something to the whole town- there's telephone, telegram, and telecrackhead. Which one sounds the most efficient?

I've been swimming every day, either at the beach or the pool, and when I'm not underwater I'm running around outside trying to make money or just hanging out. As a result, I have a bitchin' tan. I've never been this dark before, I'm the whitest person in SoFla as far as I know (not counting any albinos, of course, but if you're an albino and you voluntarily live in south Florida you're fucking stupid hah!). It's pretty cool.

So... last night I spent $50 on crack and smoked out at this apartment/crackhouse that a lot of people hang out and get high at. I really didn't want to hang with Dirty Debbie and company, so me and my friend (the only one living in that crackhut that I can honestly call a friend) locked ourselves into his room and lit up. Halfway through smoking it, we start hearing BANG BANG BANG on the door.

my friend: "Who is it?"
outside: "Lake Worth police!"

And let me tell you, there was crack EVERYWHERE. Good thing they didn't have a warrant, hell, they didn't even search- not that they had to. There was choreboy and baking soda and a spoon and pushers and shit like that just laying out on the table, my shit was sitting right under the corner of a pillow and I had needles and a cooker in my purse. But the cops just came in, shined their flashlights around, and said they were coming back later tonight with "papers". Is that policeanese for "warrants"? Well, I wasn't about to stay there and find out. I did a couple more hits and went on home about 30 minutes after the cops left. As a result, I didn't have any money when the rent lady woke me up this morning. Fuckburgers. I actually just payed it off (it was due at 11am, it's now past 3pm) because I had to cop a lil something first of course.

I guess that's everything interesting that happened.