Pilgrim in the Trailer Park

 Sometimes I think the universe is trying to speak to me.  Not literally (hello, Universe? it’s me…). I can’t help but connect the dots sometimes.  I got a little manic after my breakup five years ago, and I started connecting all the dots I could think of, which led to some weird poetry and drawings (I tried to show them to my dad and he was like, get that shit out of my face! Lol, that’s my dad. So I would read them to him so he had  to listen. And then he made me go to the hospital. I digress…). Anyways, I’m a little more hinged now, so the dots don’t make me crazy (even though sometimes I think I am on the verge of a huge epiphany (did you know one time I thought Eminem was gonna discover me and buy my poetry?)). I appreciate the dots, wherever they are leading.  I got sober on Good Friday of 2024. That wasn’t the official day I quit drinking (it was sometime that same week), but it was the day I went into the hospital and I never had another drink after tha...

I think I am done with the Satan stories. What started out as a fun story about a one night stand gets really ugly. I realize that. I take full responsibility for posting this on the internet, but I dare anyone to judge me, for my poor taste in subject matter, to the choices I made, to the people I fucked over, for the reasons I drank, etc. If this story doesn’t resonate with you, then you’ve never been in the gutter, and probably consider yourself too wise to end up there. Then this story (and maybe this blog) is not for you. I’m lucky I’m alive to write these stories, and I take pride in my ability convey them, with a touch of humor, objectively and subjectively. I don’t write for the masses. If you don’t think John is the hero in all of this, then you can’t see the forest for the trees. Every alcoholic has to decide on their own to get sober (or in my case, scared enough to get help). What my neighbor did wasn’t exactly helping me, but it kept me with him and out of danger, until I ...

 If it wasn’t for you I’d be dead/ you picked me up and fed/ me, Bought me lots of beer/ and whiskey/ does that make sense?/ would you enable a friend/ like a girl on the street in a dirty dress?/ Beats me…/ i wanna forget that mess/ never look back/ and also confess: I’m so grateful/ even though it’s hard to say I’m sorry/ for all the painful memories:/ falling off the toilet/ and pulling out my hair…/ eating all your burritos/ I’m sure you were scared/ when I got so skinny/ that my clothes didn’t fit me/ I couldn’t stop/ and I couldn’t slow down/ god knows how many pounds/ were missing/ the silver lining was the kissing/ even though my mouth/ tasted like beer and cigs/ and you couldn’t even touch me/ without me getting sleepy/ had to walk a mile up Riverside Drive/ just to please me/ while I smoked all your menthols/ and pounded my head/ against the wall/ I’m so glad we fixed that hole/ it made me sick/ to look at it/ and the broken window/ you covered with a wolf blanket/ sorry ...

 “You take it on the run baby, if that’s the way you want it baby, then I don’t want you around…” —REO Speedwagon I didnt know why this guy was buying me beer, but I wasn’t about to question it. To me, it was a gift from the gods, even though I was never properly grateful. Much later on John revealed to me that I did something really cute that just tickled him to the bone, but he wouldn’t tell me what it was for a while. Finally he admitted, “when I got you a case of beer, you asked me innocently ‘is that for me?’ and when I said of course you said ‘thank you so much!’ and gave me a hug.” Silly. I barely remember that scene (all it takes is a hug? (Although I do remember walking out the door with that whole case in my arms and enjoying the beer at Ross’, and carrying it with me through the night)). I was giving lots of people hugs at that time, my pathetic way of trying to ingratiate myself with them (and I’m really not a hug person). I did a lot of weird shit, which wasn’t funny-...

 One of my favorite movies is The Royal Tenenbaums, and there is a scene in there that cracks me up every time. The father, Royal, is telling somebody that his foreign companion carried him on his back through the jungle to a hospital when he got stabbed. The somebody asks him “who stabbed you?” Royal points at his companion: “He did.” I think it’s hilarious. You’ll understand how that is relevant as the story continues. One day I was trying to drink a Natural Ice (gross. Why?) in my own yard, for once. I was wearing a very tight and very short flesh colored dress, which I never washed. There were two chairs in the yard, so my Spanish neighbor was sitting with me. “Are you hungry? Did you eat dinner?” he asked me, concerned (This is all in Spanish, btw, but I’m writing it in English for you, my American friends). “No, I’m not hungry, I have beer.” He said “no, you can’t just drink beer, you need to eat. Flaquita…” Our neighbor John (everybody in the park is a “neighbor”) was walkin...

 This is my version of Toby Keith’s I Love This Bar : We got dumpsters, we got motherf*****s Good ol’ boys and fronters We got Dollar General and A Convenience Store The Boat Bar and The (First) Turn All walking distance So you don’t need a car You can get drunk just right where you are Ooh ooh oh I love this park We got night owls, we got fishermen, Three docks and one fire pit We get hurricanes And we don’t give a shit The cops come by for welfare checks And the Mexican drives his white van in the dark Ooh ooh oh I love this park It’s in my kind of state (Florida) Living in a real house would be such a waste It’s not too hard To fall from grace  You can stay inside and hide  but it won’t save you face Ooh ooh oh I love this park I’ve seen possums, I’ve seen raccoons Like Forest Gump said “My mama just chase em off with a broom” But we give em food We got stray cats by the dozens  Fighting and humping each other And we got ladies, they’re real  nice They drink ...