Ron-Tweedie

It’s a shame I have to write all this out again. I wrote rather extensively about these experiences years ago, but, due to all the chaos in my life because of that damnable show I’ve started new emails and left behind old internet accounts and blogs, and, assuming they’re still up I no longer know the passwords anyway. Normally I wouldn’t mind having to type it all out again since every time I rewrite something I usually do a better job of it, only these things happened so long ago I now find myself forgetting many of the details. It was June, the last month of 10th grade. I forget who I got it from, by I finally managed to score a tab of Acid. I seem to recall it cost five bucks. I took it during lunch, which, thinking back, was a real risky and irresponsible thing to do considering I had no idea how potent it was, or even how I'd react to it considering I'd never taken it before, but youth is often reckless and shortsighted so considering I was so intensely curious about it I'm not

I don't feel much like writing today, in fact I haven't felt like doing a damned thing at all lately. I feel like my skull is full of raw hamburger. Pretty uninspired to say the least. I remember back when I was a little kid how fucking gigantic adults were in comparison to me, and to be honest I didn't much care for the company of other children. They were all so irrational, and many of them were downright psychotic. Some were so crazy the adults couldn't even control them. Naturally I was very nervous around other kids. As far as adults went, they were not only physically intimidating, they also seemed to be noticeably unstable as well. I alternated my time between drug addicts and religious fanatics. Normally I was supposed to be with my mother, who was a hopeless junky married to a drug dealer, and whenever she got in trouble I had to go live with my grandparents, who were fervent Southern Baptists, though they were originally from Buffalo New York. Go figure. I remember once

Like a lot of people I'd always assumed effects of LSD most closely reproduced the experiences of schizophrenics, but my experience suggests that amphetamines, done in high enough doses, bring us much closer. Certainly the paranoia frequently felt can be classified as psychotic, as can a lot of the behavior amphetamines inspire. I remember one time, while tweaked, I got lost in Berkeley while on foot in the middle of the night. I was trying to find a friend's house that I had been to many times before, but I could not find it and found I was mostly traversing in circles. I was convinced that my brainwaves were being scrambled by certain people using some kind of ray. I knew these people were into the occult, so later on I thought maybe they had been confusing me with some kind of spells. Mind you, these people are pretty weird and dangerous, but it's, of course, much more likely that all the drugs skewed my sense of direction and that's why I was lost, and not because of magickal

"My brain's in the paper cutter again. Wow. It's cutting my brain in half. Roosters screaming everybody awake. Lost pages. Forgotten bubbles crowding up from memories of a dream. Screams awaken the blood web of nerves. Horror takes a nap. Horror runs deep. Horror lives in your veins and terrifies your corpuscles. LOL. Yeah,that was kind of a rude awakening I can tell you that. I hate when things start off that way, like you're being cleared out, being cleared away with the morning residue. Why am I on a morning trip all the time? It's always morning. Dreams, people getting up and going to work and going to school.The paperboy, the milkman. Mornings. I'm always morning obsessed. Saturday morning cartoons, breakfast, morning rituals. I don't understand it. Especially since I go to sleep and wake up whenever, I have no morning routine. Every time I do this shit it's morning. Why am I so obsessed with the morning? Weird. The time right now is actually eight in the evening but I feel it's

Desert webs hang from the cactus, dry and light. Gentle winds stirring at dawn. The playful breezes chase each other across the sand. UFOs crashing left and right, spilling dead aliens all over the damned place. Nuclear bombs going off on a checkerboard, everything is incinerated into smoke and swept away by the angry, radioactive breath of the Prince of the Power of the Air. My house creaks and moans in the small hours of morning so I know the wind is blowing hard. Leaves of autumn, candy bar wrappers, and newspapers from my childhood race along the streets and sidewalks as the branches of the surrounding trees are whipped back and forth. It's October and the scent of pumpkin is in the air. All the drug stores are selling monster masks and opiates, sacks of fun sized treats, plastic looking candy corns and Baby Ruths that look exactly like little turds, Styrofoam headstones and pasteboard skeletons for the front door. I live in a hole in the floor in the corner by the door. I sleep on

Facebook founder Mark Zuckerburg astounded the world today by revealing his new face, and what an original face it was! The multi-billionaire entrepreneur just finished a series if unconventional plastic surgeries designed to give him, in his own words, “the most interesting face in the history of the world”. He said he felt his old face was too dreadfully boring for an important person such as himself. This new one”, he went on, “not only does me justice, but it is, dollar for dollar the best advertising campaign for “Facebook” that our marketing department could come up with, and I’m rather proud of it.” After repeated inquiries, Mr Zuckerberg declined to say how much the innovative series of operations cost, but he did say they “were worth much more than any of your miserable pleb hides, and they’re tax deductible!” One of the most striking features of his new man-made visage are his three noses. The one in the center is freakishly large, with two long teeth curling forth out of the