Saturday, December 30, 2006
Friday, December 15, 2006
David Phelps' Christmas Music
I love David Phelps and his music. When I listen to him sing, my heart is full, I cry and I feel as good as anyone can feel. His music is classified as Gospel and Christian and it's good!This man has the most amazing voice of anyone I've ever heard and it's even better seeing and hearing him live. Here are some Christmas songs he sings that are a must listen!! While you're there, listen to all his music. He offers his music free on his website. You must also watch the videos. This man will move and inspire anyone... Be prepared to cry and be moved!
Make sure you have Real Player
This one single song- it's like David is describing me... Just As I Am
That link has a typo on the website, so if it doesn't work, email me. It should work since I have it correctly linked from here.
Want more? I thought so! Head on over to David Phelps' Site and click Media. I promise you will not be disappointed!
Tuesday, November 21, 2006
This is a perfect example of the need for an animal shelter
This made my blood boil!
Adopt your pet out for the hell of it!
These pet owners 'have to go out of town', can't afford boarding costs, or whatever their reasons are, so they opt to adopt out their pet. Happy Thanksgiving to our Wiregrass Area pets!
All the shelters around here are grossly underfunded, understaffed, yet are constantly bombarded with more and more animals being dropped off. This will be a lifelong dream- unless I hit the lottery- but this is how I would run an animal shelter: First off, it would be on 20+ acres- not the measly few acres all the shelters here are on. This allows for plenty of kennel space, free play space outside, training areas inside, veterinarian space and much more. All animals would have their own climate controlled rooms- just like a hotel. They would have a door to the outside which would remain accessible to the outdoors at all times. This would help prevent accidents and would afford the animals much needed relief. FREE vet care and spaying/neutering for those who cannot afford it.
Too often, my pets have died because a vet wanted enourmous amounts of money upfront before they would even see my pet. Fuck that. I believe life is much more important than money and I'm prepared to prove it. Of course, I also believe that people who have pets should be able to provide reasonable care for their animals. I also realize- because I'm living proof- that circumstances can and do change literally overnight and that some people may be in a situation temporarily where they cannot afford even a bag of cheap dog food. No problem- come to my shelter, explain your situation and you'll get what you need. Bigger plus if you can volunteer to help an hour or more per week, but I still wouldn't turn anyone in need away.
Conditional boarding. What this means is, if you have a pet whom you cannot afford to keep for awhile until you get back on your feet, I'll board it free of charge provided you follow a few simple guidelines. They would include visiting your pet at least once a week to maintain the bond, helping out one or more hours per week at the shelter, and signing a timeframe agreement when you believe you could reclaim your pet. If someone needs help for 6 months, they got it and that pet would not be offered for adoption during that time. Regular boarding services, training, grooming and vet care, all paid services but for much less than a greedy business.
My goal is twofold: maintain a modest yet decent living for myself and my family while giving unwanted animals a chance for a decent life as well. I swear if I hit the lottery, my shelter would be in demand across the country. I have the desire and committment, I just lack the resources which is fucked up since the need is significant here. I need one of those fortune 500 people who will never spend a fraction of their millions to donate a few million to realize this dream.
*Sigh* It's a dream and always will be. Animals simply are not important enough in the world. In the meantime, I'm headed out to apply for some $2 an hour jobs. I called the housing authority today. I CAN take Dixie with me, and my rent will be 30% of all my income, which, since my income is currently $265 a month, my rent would be $80 a month. I don't know if I have to pay for power or not, but this would be a huge help anyway. Only trouble is, their first appointment isn't until December 11th, so I have to come up with rent here for another month. I do have a cleaning job for a few hours tomorrow, plus Mo will be back next week, but it's pennies compared to what I need. I checked into my unemployment.
My old job did something to fuck with my benefits. They reported me earning like $1,000 in the past 10 years or similiar. I just called to check on it again and he said they have an investigation into my earnings going on and that it could take weeks. Can't ANYTHING be just a little easy for me?
I'm expected to just roll with all this shit, 'hang in there' , keep trying, don't give up even when all this negative bullshit keeps happening. When I am trying with everything I have and nothing works out, even though I'm asking for very little, it's very difficult to keep going. Very. I got the list from WalMart about their precription plan. None of my meds are on the list so that doesn't help. I keep after the front office here about a job. They won't hire me, yet they continue to bug me for their deposit. ???
I applied at that gas station and a restaurant a stones throw from here. Haven't heard anything but it hasn't been long either. Honestly, I do not have the energy for an 8 hour McDonalds or similiar job. I did that job as a teen and was exhausted. Now, I clean for 2-3 hours around here and am so tired I'm physically ill. That's only happened in the past year or so. I could do 8 hours at my other job because it wasn't exactly labor intensive, only brain intensive and we had to remain in the supply room most of the time. These brain shocks are starting again. I've been at my business since 9 this morning, and stopped for a sandwich and a few games of gin. Otherwise, I've been on the phone taking care of stuff, or trying to. I've gotta update my info at the Alabama job website, and then I think I'm through for today.
Honestly, when tomorrow comes, I don't know in which direction to turn. I've completed everything expected of me and been around town pitching jobs for myself but it's like I have this (it feels like) sign on my forehead that screams MENTALLY ILL NUT!! DON'T HIRE! No one seems interested in what I have to offer.I wonder if I'm so down on life now that I'm projecting it for everyone to see. For fucks sake, I just want a damn job. That's all.
Adopt your pet out for the hell of it!
These pet owners 'have to go out of town', can't afford boarding costs, or whatever their reasons are, so they opt to adopt out their pet. Happy Thanksgiving to our Wiregrass Area pets!
All the shelters around here are grossly underfunded, understaffed, yet are constantly bombarded with more and more animals being dropped off. This will be a lifelong dream- unless I hit the lottery- but this is how I would run an animal shelter: First off, it would be on 20+ acres- not the measly few acres all the shelters here are on. This allows for plenty of kennel space, free play space outside, training areas inside, veterinarian space and much more. All animals would have their own climate controlled rooms- just like a hotel. They would have a door to the outside which would remain accessible to the outdoors at all times. This would help prevent accidents and would afford the animals much needed relief. FREE vet care and spaying/neutering for those who cannot afford it.
Too often, my pets have died because a vet wanted enourmous amounts of money upfront before they would even see my pet. Fuck that. I believe life is much more important than money and I'm prepared to prove it. Of course, I also believe that people who have pets should be able to provide reasonable care for their animals. I also realize- because I'm living proof- that circumstances can and do change literally overnight and that some people may be in a situation temporarily where they cannot afford even a bag of cheap dog food. No problem- come to my shelter, explain your situation and you'll get what you need. Bigger plus if you can volunteer to help an hour or more per week, but I still wouldn't turn anyone in need away.
Conditional boarding. What this means is, if you have a pet whom you cannot afford to keep for awhile until you get back on your feet, I'll board it free of charge provided you follow a few simple guidelines. They would include visiting your pet at least once a week to maintain the bond, helping out one or more hours per week at the shelter, and signing a timeframe agreement when you believe you could reclaim your pet. If someone needs help for 6 months, they got it and that pet would not be offered for adoption during that time. Regular boarding services, training, grooming and vet care, all paid services but for much less than a greedy business.
My goal is twofold: maintain a modest yet decent living for myself and my family while giving unwanted animals a chance for a decent life as well. I swear if I hit the lottery, my shelter would be in demand across the country. I have the desire and committment, I just lack the resources which is fucked up since the need is significant here. I need one of those fortune 500 people who will never spend a fraction of their millions to donate a few million to realize this dream.
*Sigh* It's a dream and always will be. Animals simply are not important enough in the world. In the meantime, I'm headed out to apply for some $2 an hour jobs. I called the housing authority today. I CAN take Dixie with me, and my rent will be 30% of all my income, which, since my income is currently $265 a month, my rent would be $80 a month. I don't know if I have to pay for power or not, but this would be a huge help anyway. Only trouble is, their first appointment isn't until December 11th, so I have to come up with rent here for another month. I do have a cleaning job for a few hours tomorrow, plus Mo will be back next week, but it's pennies compared to what I need. I checked into my unemployment.
My old job did something to fuck with my benefits. They reported me earning like $1,000 in the past 10 years or similiar. I just called to check on it again and he said they have an investigation into my earnings going on and that it could take weeks. Can't ANYTHING be just a little easy for me?
I'm expected to just roll with all this shit, 'hang in there' , keep trying, don't give up even when all this negative bullshit keeps happening. When I am trying with everything I have and nothing works out, even though I'm asking for very little, it's very difficult to keep going. Very. I got the list from WalMart about their precription plan. None of my meds are on the list so that doesn't help. I keep after the front office here about a job. They won't hire me, yet they continue to bug me for their deposit. ???
I applied at that gas station and a restaurant a stones throw from here. Haven't heard anything but it hasn't been long either. Honestly, I do not have the energy for an 8 hour McDonalds or similiar job. I did that job as a teen and was exhausted. Now, I clean for 2-3 hours around here and am so tired I'm physically ill. That's only happened in the past year or so. I could do 8 hours at my other job because it wasn't exactly labor intensive, only brain intensive and we had to remain in the supply room most of the time. These brain shocks are starting again. I've been at my business since 9 this morning, and stopped for a sandwich and a few games of gin. Otherwise, I've been on the phone taking care of stuff, or trying to. I've gotta update my info at the Alabama job website, and then I think I'm through for today.
Honestly, when tomorrow comes, I don't know in which direction to turn. I've completed everything expected of me and been around town pitching jobs for myself but it's like I have this (it feels like) sign on my forehead that screams MENTALLY ILL NUT!! DON'T HIRE! No one seems interested in what I have to offer.I wonder if I'm so down on life now that I'm projecting it for everyone to see. For fucks sake, I just want a damn job. That's all.
Monday, November 20, 2006
How Many?
Here, there and everywhere that the mentally ill are shunned and are passed over for better things- jobs, promotions: the very things we need in life to help keep us even. They say we're too unstable, wishy washy, undependable, unreliable, nuts, crazy so no one wants us. We get rejected time and again yet we still try. Why?We have something to give willingly. Yea, we give up a lot, but we also learn a lot and pick ourselves up a lot more than the normal folk of the world. We would make good employees, those promotions we would serve them well, we're willing to take those opportunities at being productive people.Sure, we're not always happy go lucky and positive as those who have bypassed would want, but there's a lot more good in us others refuse to even search for.We're dealing with constant chaotic monsters living within our very minds. We have much bigger burdens than normals. Yet we're expected to cope well and act, look, think and feel normal at all times.No listens and no one cares. Except when we get in their hair. No wonder there are so many people having breakdowns. Way too much is put on us and we simply have limits which are not to be crossed at any time.I would have made a good this or that had I been given the chance.
I was commenting to AG, Laart and PV when I realized I had a worthwhile entry for once...
I wonder ... how many steps back do we have to take before we're accepted?
How many years of our life do we need to fight before we're finally heard, accepted and given chances?
How many struggles do we need to endure before we win a fight against society? How many blogs will I go through before someone who is in a position to help change things will?
How many friends will we lose before we find that one best friend who has learned who we really are and accepts us fully?
How many times will we cry ourselves to sleep before someone hears and wipes our tears?
How many times will we attempt suicide and fail, only to have that one final success before someone realizes the loss of us?
How many times do we really need to ask for the help we know is out there for others before it finally becomes available for us too? When it's too late?
How many illness episodes will we have before society accepts mental disorders for the illnesses they truly are and wakes up and accepts them as they do cancer, heart disease, even AIDS?
How many sleepless nights will we endure before someone finally cares and rocks us to sleep? How many more illnesses will be accepted before mental illness, too, is accepted?
How many people who are in a position to help make a difference won't read my words because they're above them? -OR- How many will actually read my words and won't see them written by a worthwhile person, but see someone whom they believe to belong in the dregs of society?
How many hypocritical and judgemental people are in the world anyway?
How many people with lesser experience and qualifications will get our jobs, promotions, etc because those who make the choice chose not to choose to really see us? How many more questions do I have to ask before someone answers?
I was commenting to AG, Laart and PV when I realized I had a worthwhile entry for once...
I wonder ... how many steps back do we have to take before we're accepted?
How many years of our life do we need to fight before we're finally heard, accepted and given chances?
How many struggles do we need to endure before we win a fight against society? How many blogs will I go through before someone who is in a position to help change things will?
How many friends will we lose before we find that one best friend who has learned who we really are and accepts us fully?
How many times will we cry ourselves to sleep before someone hears and wipes our tears?
How many times will we attempt suicide and fail, only to have that one final success before someone realizes the loss of us?
How many times do we really need to ask for the help we know is out there for others before it finally becomes available for us too? When it's too late?
How many illness episodes will we have before society accepts mental disorders for the illnesses they truly are and wakes up and accepts them as they do cancer, heart disease, even AIDS?
How many sleepless nights will we endure before someone finally cares and rocks us to sleep? How many more illnesses will be accepted before mental illness, too, is accepted?
How many people who are in a position to help make a difference won't read my words because they're above them? -OR- How many will actually read my words and won't see them written by a worthwhile person, but see someone whom they believe to belong in the dregs of society?
How many hypocritical and judgemental people are in the world anyway?
How many people with lesser experience and qualifications will get our jobs, promotions, etc because those who make the choice chose not to choose to really see us? How many more questions do I have to ask before someone answers?
Thursday, October 19, 2006
A fucking bipolar enlightenment
This is for all those holier than thou, high and mighty fuckers who can't give a rats ass about those people who weren't born as perfect as they.
Living with bipolar disorder sucks! In case you missed a keyword, DISORDER might tell your ignorant ass something. Disorder means something is wrong. It does NOT mean we chose to live with BP.
Bipolar disorder means we live life on a severe high, or a severe low. Both of those sides wreak havoc in our lives because neither is normal. Especially not as normal as you perfect folk.
Many people with BP drink, do drugs, molest kids, kill people, gamble, kill themselves, shop till their bank account drops, hurt theirselves, miss work, miss school, steal from others, and the list can and does go on.
Does that make them bad people? Their actions are bad, and the bipolar allows them to justify their behavior.
For example, with me, my bad thing is gambling. I can go years without spending a penny, then my brain will shift gears and I'll have the rent spent in a day. Somehow, my brain justifies it by telling me I just got paid, I have extra money, I'll win it back, and etc.
After the money is gone, I crash and I crash hard. I turn almost normal in that I realize I fucked up and I feel like shit for what I did.
Until the next time.
We live to extremes. Sometimes, my house is immaculate with nary a speck of dust to be found, and everything in it's proper place.
Then, I get days like yesterday and today where i've crashed and I'm surrounded by trash. It takes all I can just to move from one room to another; forget about cleaning up.
I do really well for months sometimes, Then I crash and it all goes to shit. I get migraines, I can't make it to work, I don't bother calling in because, at that moment, I just don't care about the next second. The house goes to shit, the kids run wild and the dog doesn't get fed.
It's that much more difficult to face the next day when I can make it to work and I'm ashamedly explaining to my boss why I failed to make it, failed to call in, trying to explain how it is living with this disorder and why we do the things we do.
I'm on *counting all the med bottles in front of me*... 5 daily morning meds, one daily throughout for headaches, 5 daily nighttime meds, and 3-5 as needed meds.
2 nighttime meds are for sleep alone otherwise i'd never get to sleep early enough to wake my ass up at 5am for work.
I must be alone. I have no friends and prefer it that way. I don't want anyone calling me, knocking on my door or anything. When I'm in crash mode, watch the fuck out. I can just as easily stick a fork in your ass- you're done- as I can say hiya.
When I'm in manic mode, not only am I nice as a french whore getting paid, but I'm also dangerous: dangerous at work, on the road, at the house, anywhere and anytime I'm reckless and dangerous because I'm going a bazillion miles a second.
No one minds that. No one has shit to say when we're manic because shit is getting done and we're not bothering anyone.
Fuck, but when we crash- it's bad enough we have to pick up our pieces, but we also gotta hear it from everyone and their fucking relatives about what a loser we are.
Get over it, they say. Give me your magic fucking fairy wand, wave it and see what the fuck happens. I'll bet my last dollar won't shit happen- except you'll prove what a dumbass you are.
Get over yourself, and if you haven't a fucking clue, quit projecting, get a clue and shut the fuck up.
Living with bipolar disorder sucks! In case you missed a keyword, DISORDER might tell your ignorant ass something. Disorder means something is wrong. It does NOT mean we chose to live with BP.
Bipolar disorder means we live life on a severe high, or a severe low. Both of those sides wreak havoc in our lives because neither is normal. Especially not as normal as you perfect folk.
Many people with BP drink, do drugs, molest kids, kill people, gamble, kill themselves, shop till their bank account drops, hurt theirselves, miss work, miss school, steal from others, and the list can and does go on.
Does that make them bad people? Their actions are bad, and the bipolar allows them to justify their behavior.
For example, with me, my bad thing is gambling. I can go years without spending a penny, then my brain will shift gears and I'll have the rent spent in a day. Somehow, my brain justifies it by telling me I just got paid, I have extra money, I'll win it back, and etc.
After the money is gone, I crash and I crash hard. I turn almost normal in that I realize I fucked up and I feel like shit for what I did.
Until the next time.
We live to extremes. Sometimes, my house is immaculate with nary a speck of dust to be found, and everything in it's proper place.
Then, I get days like yesterday and today where i've crashed and I'm surrounded by trash. It takes all I can just to move from one room to another; forget about cleaning up.
I do really well for months sometimes, Then I crash and it all goes to shit. I get migraines, I can't make it to work, I don't bother calling in because, at that moment, I just don't care about the next second. The house goes to shit, the kids run wild and the dog doesn't get fed.
It's that much more difficult to face the next day when I can make it to work and I'm ashamedly explaining to my boss why I failed to make it, failed to call in, trying to explain how it is living with this disorder and why we do the things we do.
I'm on *counting all the med bottles in front of me*... 5 daily morning meds, one daily throughout for headaches, 5 daily nighttime meds, and 3-5 as needed meds.
2 nighttime meds are for sleep alone otherwise i'd never get to sleep early enough to wake my ass up at 5am for work.
I must be alone. I have no friends and prefer it that way. I don't want anyone calling me, knocking on my door or anything. When I'm in crash mode, watch the fuck out. I can just as easily stick a fork in your ass- you're done- as I can say hiya.
When I'm in manic mode, not only am I nice as a french whore getting paid, but I'm also dangerous: dangerous at work, on the road, at the house, anywhere and anytime I'm reckless and dangerous because I'm going a bazillion miles a second.
No one minds that. No one has shit to say when we're manic because shit is getting done and we're not bothering anyone.
Fuck, but when we crash- it's bad enough we have to pick up our pieces, but we also gotta hear it from everyone and their fucking relatives about what a loser we are.
Get over it, they say. Give me your magic fucking fairy wand, wave it and see what the fuck happens. I'll bet my last dollar won't shit happen- except you'll prove what a dumbass you are.
Get over yourself, and if you haven't a fucking clue, quit projecting, get a clue and shut the fuck up.
Wednesday, October 11, 2006
Tracie Hawlett and J.B. Beasley
Tracie Hawlett and J.B. Beasley, both 17 - were killed execution style in 1999 with a single gunshot each to the heads, then stuffed in the trunk of a car and left on Herring Ave, in Ozark, AL.
Now- this is where this gets extremely wierd. In order to correctly tell their story, I need to go back 10 years prior, to 1989.
June of 89, I went to AIT here at Ft. Rucker, AL. There, not only did I meet my now ex-husband, but I also met the mother of Gene- the young man who lives upstairs from me, the one to whom I've referred lately. She was my maid of honor at my wedding.
His mom was married to Butch. Butch was a great guy. He loved his wife and kids, was a good man all around.
He went to Desert Storm and when he came back, he and Nancy- the mother, and by then one of my best friends- went out to Cabaret, a local nightclub. They drank some, got in a fight and she left him there.
Butch began walking home. During his walk, he got an asthma attack- supposedly. His inhaler was found in his hand. He was killed by a car on that dark road- a road seldom used.
Nancy recieved a good deal of money from his death and always insisted it was for her boys' school.
To date- 15 years later, at the ages of 19 and 21, neither boy has seen a penny. The other son just joined the Army and is slated for Iraq.
Nancy has a bad history of cheating on her husbands and, with the sole exception of Butch, picks men who are angry, abusive, controlling and dangerous.
All of them have abused Gene. Nancy always allowed it. Nancy would use the older kids to watch the younger ones. This is her fourth marriage, and we're awaiting another child. She always has at least one child per marriage.
Nancy and I had a major falling out maybe 10 years ago because I didn't like how she was treating her kids, and to be honest, how she was living her life. She didn't want to hear any of it. With her, it's always about her and no one else.
I hadn't seen Gene or the kids for several years until last week, when there he was. Somehow, he and I always pop back into each others lives after many years.
This time, he shocked me by introducing a wife, stepson and his first baby. He has a wonderful family!! I'm so proud of him, even though his mother says otherwise to him.
Gene had moved to Florida for a few years with Nancy and that family. To show up back here, living right above me told me something.
We had a lot of catching up to do, and he told me Nancy had remarried in February of this year to husband #4. He didn't say the name right away. He did say this guy had pulled a gun on her before they were married, treated her like shit, her family like shit and was abusive and extremely controlling. Still- no name. Had he said a name I would have not been surprised because this guy- A.) has a very unique name, and B.) is exactly like that.
How do I know? Let me go back to last night first, when I got the bomb dropped in my lap.
They wanted me to come upstairs to read a letter Nancy had written to Gene, Nancy's father and several members of the family. There were 2 pictures- both of the wedding day, one with Nancy and her new husband and one with them and the kids.
When I saw the man, my jaw dropped. I said- I know that guy!! When Gene told me the name- Clenton, I about shit my pants.
He was out on $25,000 bond when they got married. Nancy married his ass anyway, even though he held a gun to her throat and threw it at one of the kids.
Needless to say, I was in terrible shock because I worked with this guy on 3rd shift for 3 years, and he's insane.
This is the same guy that followed Roger home one day and pulled a 9mm out of his car threatening Roger. I have that in a journal somewhere here at WDC, I'll have to find it.
Clenton and I would talk sometimes about Bingo, and just bullshit stuff, and sometimes, he'd get this look in his eyes that would scream dangerous. He's go out on the flightline and cut helicopter tires to the core. They caught him a time or two.
He was abusive to many girlfriends.
{i}And he lived on Herring Ave in Ozark, AL.{/i}
Roger and I talked about this a lot; we both feel he's the one who killed Tracie Hawlett and J.B. Beasley that night in 1999.
He has a 9mm; a 9mm was used.
The murders happened very late at night; Clenton worked 3rd shift and was always out late on nights he didn't work.
The police feel the person who did this had done it before; Clenton has a history of abuse and violence.
The police profile matches Clenton.
Clenton was fired from Army Fleet Support because he refused several times to take a drug test. He claims he was laid off. This is not true.
There are more facts, but I will not divulge them right now because they are too sensitive.
Their case was featured on Americas Most Wanted, but the tips led nowhere.
I've fought with myself for years about calling in a tip, however, due to police corruption in Ozark, I do not believe this case will ever be solved.
One thing remains true: There is a killer on the loose; a killer of two 17- year old innocent girls, and I believe he is married to the mother of my young friend and is now living somewhere in Florida.
The question is: What do I do now?
My Other Blog
Now- this is where this gets extremely wierd. In order to correctly tell their story, I need to go back 10 years prior, to 1989.
June of 89, I went to AIT here at Ft. Rucker, AL. There, not only did I meet my now ex-husband, but I also met the mother of Gene- the young man who lives upstairs from me, the one to whom I've referred lately. She was my maid of honor at my wedding.
His mom was married to Butch. Butch was a great guy. He loved his wife and kids, was a good man all around.
He went to Desert Storm and when he came back, he and Nancy- the mother, and by then one of my best friends- went out to Cabaret, a local nightclub. They drank some, got in a fight and she left him there.
Butch began walking home. During his walk, he got an asthma attack- supposedly. His inhaler was found in his hand. He was killed by a car on that dark road- a road seldom used.
Nancy recieved a good deal of money from his death and always insisted it was for her boys' school.
To date- 15 years later, at the ages of 19 and 21, neither boy has seen a penny. The other son just joined the Army and is slated for Iraq.
Nancy has a bad history of cheating on her husbands and, with the sole exception of Butch, picks men who are angry, abusive, controlling and dangerous.
All of them have abused Gene. Nancy always allowed it. Nancy would use the older kids to watch the younger ones. This is her fourth marriage, and we're awaiting another child. She always has at least one child per marriage.
Nancy and I had a major falling out maybe 10 years ago because I didn't like how she was treating her kids, and to be honest, how she was living her life. She didn't want to hear any of it. With her, it's always about her and no one else.
I hadn't seen Gene or the kids for several years until last week, when there he was. Somehow, he and I always pop back into each others lives after many years.
This time, he shocked me by introducing a wife, stepson and his first baby. He has a wonderful family!! I'm so proud of him, even though his mother says otherwise to him.
Gene had moved to Florida for a few years with Nancy and that family. To show up back here, living right above me told me something.
We had a lot of catching up to do, and he told me Nancy had remarried in February of this year to husband #4. He didn't say the name right away. He did say this guy had pulled a gun on her before they were married, treated her like shit, her family like shit and was abusive and extremely controlling. Still- no name. Had he said a name I would have not been surprised because this guy- A.) has a very unique name, and B.) is exactly like that.
How do I know? Let me go back to last night first, when I got the bomb dropped in my lap.
They wanted me to come upstairs to read a letter Nancy had written to Gene, Nancy's father and several members of the family. There were 2 pictures- both of the wedding day, one with Nancy and her new husband and one with them and the kids.
When I saw the man, my jaw dropped. I said- I know that guy!! When Gene told me the name- Clenton, I about shit my pants.
He was out on $25,000 bond when they got married. Nancy married his ass anyway, even though he held a gun to her throat and threw it at one of the kids.
Needless to say, I was in terrible shock because I worked with this guy on 3rd shift for 3 years, and he's insane.
This is the same guy that followed Roger home one day and pulled a 9mm out of his car threatening Roger. I have that in a journal somewhere here at WDC, I'll have to find it.
Clenton and I would talk sometimes about Bingo, and just bullshit stuff, and sometimes, he'd get this look in his eyes that would scream dangerous. He's go out on the flightline and cut helicopter tires to the core. They caught him a time or two.
He was abusive to many girlfriends.
{i}And he lived on Herring Ave in Ozark, AL.{/i}
Roger and I talked about this a lot; we both feel he's the one who killed Tracie Hawlett and J.B. Beasley that night in 1999.
He has a 9mm; a 9mm was used.
The murders happened very late at night; Clenton worked 3rd shift and was always out late on nights he didn't work.
The police feel the person who did this had done it before; Clenton has a history of abuse and violence.
The police profile matches Clenton.
Clenton was fired from Army Fleet Support because he refused several times to take a drug test. He claims he was laid off. This is not true.
There are more facts, but I will not divulge them right now because they are too sensitive.
Their case was featured on Americas Most Wanted, but the tips led nowhere.
I've fought with myself for years about calling in a tip, however, due to police corruption in Ozark, I do not believe this case will ever be solved.
One thing remains true: There is a killer on the loose; a killer of two 17- year old innocent girls, and I believe he is married to the mother of my young friend and is now living somewhere in Florida.
The question is: What do I do now?
My Other Blog
Monday, September 04, 2006
Steve Irwin: Crocodile Hunter
What a sad tragedy! At 44, Steve Irwin was a household name the world over. From cocoons to crocs, Steve gave all he had to show that all beings have value.
I've seen many judgemental comments since hearing the news of his death just last night, but I think no one fully understood the everyday risks taken better than Steve himself. He took those risks because he cared. He was a very selfless man and gave his life in protection for the animals of the world. He made a huge difference, and it seems to me people should focus on the much good he did rather than the very few flaws in him.
People are too quick to judge; too quick to find and expose flaws in others. Projection is not a good thing when people choose to focus on- and dwell on the flaws of others when they should be changing what does not work in their own life.
Steve went the extra mile for others other than himself. That is a rare quality in a person and should be applauded and his example followed.
I'm sure I speak for many animal lovers around the world when I say this is a huge loss. Steve Irwin was an amazing man and was a hero.
I've seen many judgemental comments since hearing the news of his death just last night, but I think no one fully understood the everyday risks taken better than Steve himself. He took those risks because he cared. He was a very selfless man and gave his life in protection for the animals of the world. He made a huge difference, and it seems to me people should focus on the much good he did rather than the very few flaws in him.
People are too quick to judge; too quick to find and expose flaws in others. Projection is not a good thing when people choose to focus on- and dwell on the flaws of others when they should be changing what does not work in their own life.
Steve went the extra mile for others other than himself. That is a rare quality in a person and should be applauded and his example followed.
I'm sure I speak for many animal lovers around the world when I say this is a huge loss. Steve Irwin was an amazing man and was a hero.
Friday, June 09, 2006
I Rock!
I played in several tourneys tonight. One was the daily $1,000 tourney. 1500 players, I placed 2nd place and won $150. That's more than I make in one day of work! If I can do this shit several times a week... WAKE THE FUCK UP JACQUI!
Anyway- I'm getting much better at poker. I still make my stupid calls, especially when I'm high stacked and want to bump someone out of a tourney and I have a good hand, but I'm learning not to chase so much and to fold even when my AK suited looks good. Sometimes, ya gotta learn to hold onto what you have and make it closer to the finish line like a turtle and not a rabbit.
That same lesson applies to life. Sometimes, what looks good in the short term hurts us later on down the road and we have to weigh what we have and make the best decision based on the set of circumstances which apply to that particular situation.
If you love poker, but hate to lose money, then you must play here with me. It's $20 a month and you can win hundreds every night if you are good enough! Give it a try- 14 day free trial!
My winnings since 4/24/06~ $260
[Try It Free Yourself!]
Anyway- I'm getting much better at poker. I still make my stupid calls, especially when I'm high stacked and want to bump someone out of a tourney and I have a good hand, but I'm learning not to chase so much and to fold even when my AK suited looks good. Sometimes, ya gotta learn to hold onto what you have and make it closer to the finish line like a turtle and not a rabbit.
That same lesson applies to life. Sometimes, what looks good in the short term hurts us later on down the road and we have to weigh what we have and make the best decision based on the set of circumstances which apply to that particular situation.
If you love poker, but hate to lose money, then you must play here with me. It's $20 a month and you can win hundreds every night if you are good enough! Give it a try- 14 day free trial!
My winnings since 4/24/06~ $260
[Try It Free Yourself!]
Monday, June 05, 2006
Poker Thoughts
My life is like poker - I either go all-in or I fold...
It's true! I've always been that way. With bipolar, we either don't (can't) do shit or we don't stop till we literally drop. When we are dealt that good hand, we raise the shit out of it with the sole purpose of winning and coming away with our prize.
The same is true with life. We should recognize the good opportunities, run with them and fold the crap.
I wish real life were as easy as folding or playing a poker hand...
It's true! I've always been that way. With bipolar, we either don't (can't) do shit or we don't stop till we literally drop. When we are dealt that good hand, we raise the shit out of it with the sole purpose of winning and coming away with our prize.
The same is true with life. We should recognize the good opportunities, run with them and fold the crap.
I wish real life were as easy as folding or playing a poker hand...
Saturday, April 29, 2006
"A DAY WITHOUT AN IMMIGRANT
Please! Give me a break! Thousands of ILLEGAL immigrants- workers and students- are planning on playing hooky Monday. They claim America cannot function without them because they do jobs Americans won't do.
Bullshit! Moreover, they say they want to be here to work and get a good education.
Funny- how do they justify taking a day off from school and work? Doesn't that defeat the purpose?
Get a damn green card, or better yet, go back home. if that's the kind of attitude they're going to have, I say send em all back home. We don't need em.
Bullshit! Moreover, they say they want to be here to work and get a good education.
Funny- how do they justify taking a day off from school and work? Doesn't that defeat the purpose?
Get a damn green card, or better yet, go back home. if that's the kind of attitude they're going to have, I say send em all back home. We don't need em.
Thursday, January 12, 2006
Shower Issues
Honestly, I cannot remember the last time I actually bathed. I know it's been at least a month. I finally took a loooooong shower monday, only because I had a doctors appointment. My hair fell out in huge clumps.
I hadn't brushed my teeth in over a week.
I'm in a disgusting phase. The house is proof of that. However, I can say that I have cleaned up after this rabbit every day. I put him in our utility room, which is pretty big. It's where our main door to outside is, so cleaning is a snap- I simply sweep it all outside.
I spent grocery money and bought a few things for him- timothy grass, bedding/litter, a small litter box and pellets.
There is a kitchen table with two chairs plus a smaller utility table so he can hide. I rabbit proofed it and I place old, clean clothes out for him every day. It's easy- the soiled clothes go right in the washer which is right there.
During the day, I put him outside in a roomy cage with water so he can get air and eat grass and so I don't stress about Faith chasing him. She's horrible about this rabbit; desperate to get him.
Anyway, disability sent me a letter saying they don't have enough evidence to support my case, so I have an appt with one of their doctors Friday, plus I have to bring someone with me who knows me and my condition. What a pain in the ass for that someone. Roger, bless his heart, agreed to come, even though he works nights and drives a bus in the mornings and afternoons, so that day he won't get any sleep.
But there's really no one else who knows me like he does.
I'm just in a real down phase lately. Putting off everything and just sitting here. Can't explain it.
LifeWriter
I hadn't brushed my teeth in over a week.
I'm in a disgusting phase. The house is proof of that. However, I can say that I have cleaned up after this rabbit every day. I put him in our utility room, which is pretty big. It's where our main door to outside is, so cleaning is a snap- I simply sweep it all outside.
I spent grocery money and bought a few things for him- timothy grass, bedding/litter, a small litter box and pellets.
There is a kitchen table with two chairs plus a smaller utility table so he can hide. I rabbit proofed it and I place old, clean clothes out for him every day. It's easy- the soiled clothes go right in the washer which is right there.
During the day, I put him outside in a roomy cage with water so he can get air and eat grass and so I don't stress about Faith chasing him. She's horrible about this rabbit; desperate to get him.
Anyway, disability sent me a letter saying they don't have enough evidence to support my case, so I have an appt with one of their doctors Friday, plus I have to bring someone with me who knows me and my condition. What a pain in the ass for that someone. Roger, bless his heart, agreed to come, even though he works nights and drives a bus in the mornings and afternoons, so that day he won't get any sleep.
But there's really no one else who knows me like he does.
I'm just in a real down phase lately. Putting off everything and just sitting here. Can't explain it.
LifeWriter
Wednesday, January 04, 2006
Weird Seroquel Dreams
With Seroquel, I seem to dream more often. Just before I awoke this morning, I had the strangest dream. I know there was a lot more to it, but I remember just snippets.
First, I was babysitting a boy whom I'd actually sat for when I was a teen. His parents were expected home about midnight; it was after 4am when they'd arrived and I'd just begun to change another diaper when they showed up. It was freezing out and I had to answer the door with him clad in just his shirts and diaper.
Then, to my surprise, they called another woman who I don't know who she was, but she told me to tell them she wanted the second car seat, even though they just lived next door.
Fast forward to an airfield and some helicopter mechanics I'd worked with in real life. Some deal was made, and an Air Force AirEvac took off. One mechanic was bitching that another mechanic owed him. I asked him why was that and he replied that all helicopters were told to remain in the air until this AirEvac departed.
After the jet wash dissipated, a number of other aircraft departed. When I looked at the sky for the umpteenth time, I saw what looked like a massive drain the clear blue sky. It was shaped like an octagon and square holes.
As I was asking about it, it turned into a jet, pointed the nose directly upwards and disappeared.
Wierd Seroquel dreams...
First, I was babysitting a boy whom I'd actually sat for when I was a teen. His parents were expected home about midnight; it was after 4am when they'd arrived and I'd just begun to change another diaper when they showed up. It was freezing out and I had to answer the door with him clad in just his shirts and diaper.
Then, to my surprise, they called another woman who I don't know who she was, but she told me to tell them she wanted the second car seat, even though they just lived next door.
Fast forward to an airfield and some helicopter mechanics I'd worked with in real life. Some deal was made, and an Air Force AirEvac took off. One mechanic was bitching that another mechanic owed him. I asked him why was that and he replied that all helicopters were told to remain in the air until this AirEvac departed.
After the jet wash dissipated, a number of other aircraft departed. When I looked at the sky for the umpteenth time, I saw what looked like a massive drain the clear blue sky. It was shaped like an octagon and square holes.
As I was asking about it, it turned into a jet, pointed the nose directly upwards and disappeared.
Wierd Seroquel dreams...
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