Spews Just In

 I might as well post my experiences in the psych wards, the YMCA, the shelters, support groups, day centers, therapy groups and elsewhere on here, changing everyone's names of course. If I saved it for a book, then despite the changed names I'd still have to track them all down to get their permission (And some would say no and others are dead, so I wouldn't get it and rightly so), because I'd be making money off them, and I don't want to make money off anyone... it's wrong even WITH their permission. That permission might have been given from a place of fear or uncertainty rather than a place of enthusiasm. Here, I can write the full story (with all names changed of course) and won't be profiting from it. It can and will help more people this way. I'm glad I finally came to this conclusion. Took me long enough.

  Carmen Carmen admitted to me that she wanted a break from her life and housework and to make friends, so that’s why she let slip that she was suicidal even though she “wasn’t really,” so that they’d keep her in. But maybe, as my dad later told me when I told him this story, she was a little suicidal and they reasoned that it only takes five seconds to step under a bus. Carmen was bipolar, complimenting people one second and judgmental the next but always chatting. She was so bothered by her moods sometimes that she was pretending to be “normal,” not paying attention to what was actually right... just what was normal for wherever she was and whoever she was with. The result was her having one opinion about something and the next moment having a different opinion about it. Like about how to raise kids, or about whether she wanted to be here in the Douglas. But that could also be because she was still figuring it out and was keeping an open mind and trying to, in her o...

  Nasthalthia She was trying hard to seem and be intimidating but beautiful at the same time, and fun and funny. She once is said to have masturbated with a banana in the smoking room and then put it back in the bowl of fruit on the nurses’ desk. She picked on people, also stood up for people. She acted cliquish at times. She bragged about her hard and controversial past-- being in the forensic psych hospital, Pinel, and being a stripper at one point, and losing her child to social services-- or what her past was supposedly like, and whether it was true or not it was because it was better than being ashamed. Whether that shame she had felt had been because of her bad past, or her lack of a past. I had no idea what was true and what wasn’t about what she said about her life, or about anything, partially because she said herself that when someone lied she’d meet that lie with a bigger one about her own life, and that was how she dealt with liars. She was destitute, to the po...

  Traudl She acted the part of the “no-nonsense German woman”, either as a compensation for being so utterly out of control with her mental illness, or having control stripped from her by being forced to stay there. She got ECT, and said it made her lose her memory. Perhaps she, like some others there, chose to have the ECT, too... just to have something she had chosen that wasn’t forced on her, to be able to tell herself that it wasn’t forced on her, that she hadn’t suffered that indignity. Ernst “I’ll tell you what it was like after,” he said to me about the electroconvulsive therapy he was getting. “If I remember.” After all, ECT often wipes a lot of your short-term and long-term memory. Wanda She might have been grasping at straws. She told me she signed the paper for ECT herself, but perhaps it was to avoid the indignity of having a judge sign it for her anyway. She said the doctor was so good, the way he explained it all. As though that re...

 I discovered/made up a new mantra that seems to describe everything... "Everyone is eternally everyone's destiny." It describes how everyone is equally infinitely permanently sentient and connected to everyone else. More to come on that subject, especially in the book we're writing about spirituality.

 I loved the book Escape by Carolyn Jessop and found it very well written; I don't know why so many reviewers called it poorly written... maybe they're FLDS shills, who knows. I loved the story. She writes like me. I guess a lot of people think my writing is crap too then. Oh well, nothing is for everyone right now in this stage of the universe's evolution except the idea that everyone and everything will be united in a good way eventually for good. (Our book gets into the how and why of that, and I know we have an audience for that because there is an audience for everything... and things do spread, gradually and then suddenly.) I loved that book Escape. I read parts of it over and over. It was funny in parts even. It was suspenseful in its own way. It got into the psychology of it and I can relate to that psychology of someone trying to break free of a shame/guilt/fear culture, because we live in a shame/guilt/fear culture full of smaller shame/guilt/fear cultures. We nee...

 I'm interested in the FLDS cult. Teddy is interested in the case of the People's Temple (Jonestown). We're reading Road to Jonestown together over Skype. We already read Escape by Carolyn Jessop together and part of Triumph, also by Carolyn Jessop, and he read other books about Jonestown and I read Church of Lies by Flora Jessop and part of Stolen Innocence by Elissa Wall (more books about the FLDS). I'm writing a fictional book on the FLDS, called The Prophet's Property (which I uploaded onto here what I wrote so far), with names changed and that including the name of the FLDS, and some fictionalized details. I might write more on the actual FLDS, both fiction and nonfiction. Teddy is writing a fictionalized book about the People's Temple, and we're going to corroborate our books where escapees from the cult similar to the FLDS help take down a Jim Jones-like figure and stop the People's Temple-like cult from committing mass murder.  I want to read oth...

 More about us is that me and Teddy are writing books about people we met including many we knew well, books about our spiritual and religious and mystical experiences (we have material proof we're reincarnated from certain lives and it will blow some people away and there is a LOT of proof out there both about reincarnation in general (near-death.com) and about people's specific reincarnations (just look at the reincarnation groups on Facebook and in many other places)... we also plan to write more about our own experiences in life, mainly with stigma/discrimination/pegging/stereotyping/profiling/pigeonholing/prejudice/assumptions/labeling/whatever you want to call it. We also have some fiction. And we want to write (in this blog) our little lectures on cults, politics, religion, kitchen and bathroom decor, people we knew, history, psychology, philosophy, events, music, art, our personal lives, whatever we're interested in at the moment. 

Hi, I'm Larsie. I'm 35 years old and live in Montreal and am married to Teddy, who is 43 and lives in Tucson, Arizona. Teddy and I are planning on eventually having a communal house and traveling with our friends including Brian from Lexington, Michigan, and my friends Mathieu and Maggie from Montreal, and some of Teddy's friends and maybe some of Mathieu's friends.  My husband Teddy (whom I married in the United States, and it's too complicated to get a green card on our situation) wants to come up here to Canada and I plan to sponsor him but first I need an income and a place to live that he can come to. Which I'll only be able to get after I'm finished school in 6 months and get a job. Right now where I live is a place just for women so he can't come here... and I'd rent a room in someone's house if I had to that we could both live in but I'd rather not... it'd be farther from school and more expensive than the subsidized place I live ...

 This site is just getting started but we're going to add a lot more!

  Fake Hans Fake Hans went to the Oktoberfest. People made fun of how Fake Hans was dressed. Although Fake Hans was wearing leiderhosen The so-called German natives said Fake Hans was posin’. They told Fake Hans that he would be deported. To that, our lovely fake Hans retorted “ I may be someone you want to deport but you cannot, I have a German passport!” [Chorus]: Ja! Ja! Ja! Wooo! Everybody loves fake Hans! Essential jobs Germans won’t do are done by fake Hans! Ja! Ja! Ja! Ja! Fake Hans is essential! Ja! Ja! Just like you fake Hans has potential! Fake Hans went to Switzerland for a vacation and was told he was in the wrong nation. The police chased him and shot at him: pop! That’s when Fake Hans showed his German passport to the cop. As they frisked him and searched the pockets of his pants Fake Hans broke out in a German song and dance: [Chorus]: Ja! Ja! Ja! Wooo! Everybody loves fake Hans! Essential jobs Germans won’t do are done by fake ...

  Faux-Original I’m very unique. I act and look like no one ever did. I have a mean streak so you’d better keep a lid on any comments about how we’re all the same. I don’t want to hear it. It would maim my ego, as I fear it. I look down on everybody for being a bore. My reputation is muddy but at least I have a high originality score. I’m totally swept away by myself, like leaves in someone’s yard. When I get in trouble I play the originality card.

  Impulsive My behavior is bizarre. It borders on erratic. I crashed my girlfriend’s car after smoking meth in the attic. I dropped out of school and quit my job. Worry for me is in the past. I choked on some corn on the cob because I ate too fast. I kicked my cat and punched my friend when they did things I didn’t like. I asked my uncle to lend me some money for a motorbike. I sold all the furniture. I bought drugs with all the money. I know I’m a caricature of impulsiveness and it isn’t funny.

  Social Worker I take abused children away. I put them in foster care. I’m on the phone all day, negotiating with welfare. I help people with mental health issues. I’m an open door. I get medical and dental help for the poor. I go to lots of places; there’s always a meeting. I visit convicts on death row. I make sure every homeless man is eating. There’s always a new place to go. I go to court to defend people in an unjust society. People depend on me to help with their anxiety.

  Special Ed Clique My friends are all in special ed. That’s because so am I. I feel so socially dead and I don’t know why. I feel so humiliated that I’m slow. I feel my wisdom is belated just because I happen to go to a different classroom than a lot of my peers. They laugh at us because we spaz. I cry angry tears. I have just as much intelligence as anyone has! But people seem to think I’m dumb because I can’t read. They seem to think a rule of thumb is that we’re not up to speed.

  Truth or Dare I dare you to ring the mean guy’s doorbell. I dare you to climb that tree. I dare you to tell our teacher to go to hell. I dare you to fuck me. I dare you not to do your work for school. I date you to walk out of class. I dare you to tell a guy he’s cool. I dare you to act crass. I dare you to run away. I dare you to talk back to your dad. I dare you to say what you’d never say. Now I dare you to do something even more bad. I dare you to kill that loser kid. I dare you to dump him in a ditch. I dare you to bid online in an auction like you’re rich. I dare you to crash a party for hot guys. I dare you to sneak out at night. I dare you to not do anything wise. I dare you to get into a fistfight.

  Overeating I ate half a side of beef last night. I know I have to start eating right. I eat so much I could explode. By now I must weigh a load. I ate a whole pizza that I decided to order. I know my behavior must border on overeating. No; I’m already there. I’m overweight and don’t seem to care. I went to an overeaters’ group. We ate a lot of donuts. I know even they thought I was nuts. I feel like such a glutton eating three whole plates of mutton. I ate a box of crackers and a brick of cheese. I can’t bend over unless I bend my knees. I drank a carton of milk and ate a whole chicken. With what disease have I been stricken? I ate a whole turkey and a whole ham. I’m sorry for what I am. I need to go on a strict diet before my skinny friends start a riot. I ate the cakes and ate the pie. If I don’t stop I’m gonna die.

  Polygamy I want to leave my man. I’m one of fifty wives. I don’t know if I can. We have complicated lives. I’ve never been outside the compound, to that place beyond the cleft. Do I even have common ground with the people who have already left? I’ve never been in Normal Land. I have a lot to learn. I wish someone would take my hand. Because I feel it’s my turn. My husband is abusive. I share him with forty-nine others. Our sex life is intrusive. Besides that, we’re all mothers. I have a load of children here. Will I have to leave any? Each one I hold very dear, though I have many. I’ve made my decision. I’m leaving tomorrow. My plan lacks precision and I’m distracted by sorrow. But get out I plan to. Get out I will do. I just wish I had someone I could have ran to. One is lonely, unlike two.

  Social-Climbing Dater I once dated a hacker. He was really handsome. I met a real lacker of money who held me for ransom. I dated a waiter. He was boring. He wasn’t a heavy dater. In no time he had me snoring. I dated a doctor. He said he liked the way I am and served as my proctor when I did my online course’s exam. I dated a lawyer who was really charming. His attitude was like Tom Sawyer, very disarming. I dated a professor. In science he was very smart. His greatest stressor was things to do with art. I dated a politician who was very vain. I dated a mortician used to cleaning up every kind of stain. I dated all these fascinating men just for fun. I hope you’re appreciating what I’ve done.

  Know-It-All My boyfriend is so arrogant. He thinks he knows it all. He’s so belligerent and one day that will be his downfall. He tells me he knows better than I know myself. He goes out in winter without a sweater and with heavy objects broke a shelf. He cannot plunge a toilet bowl but he thinks he can. He can’t even dig a bloody hole or turn on a fan. But he bothers me about my ignorance. He’s such a hypocrite. I hope that by chance he one day has to listen to his own shit.

  The Smuggler’s Inn I run the Smuggler’s Inn. It’s full of immigrants sneaking across the border. I know I’m walking on a line that’s thin. I’m called a people hoarder. I give them free food. I give them a place to sleep. And I put them in the mood to take that final leap. I give the children toys to play. I counsel them about the law. I know I could get arrested any day, it’s the luck of the draw.

Sweet 16 I can finally drive a car. In Europe I can finally drink. I’m seen as someone who’s come far and is able to think. The problem is it’s not that true. I’m still so immature. I still really don’t have a clue. I’m really not that sure. I still party all night long. I still get drunk as shit. I still dress slutty, miniskirt and thong. I still am not quite “it”.

  Round The Block Tony likes it in the ass. Darrel likes to chain me with brass. John loves foreplay more than sex. Jared likes wringing people’s necks. Todd wants me to bite his dick. Alex wants me to suck him until I’m sick. Cade likes playing with my boobs. Rod likes using flavored lubes. Scott likes giving me a hickey. Angel likes it wet and sticky. Sean likes tongues and teeth and nails. Gordon likes movement: gasps and flails. Jasper likes to do it high. Ronald likes to stroke my thigh. Gerald likes to be on top, while Harold dresses as a cop. Jim ties me to the bed. Salvador just strokes my head. Joclyn likes outfits black and red while Frank makes me repeat dirty words he said. Zach likes being underneath while Joe forbids me to use my teeth. Albert likes to suck my tits while James threatens to blow me to bits. I’m tired of going round the block. I think I’ll quit drugs and take stock of my situation, it’s absurd. To think I used to be such ...

  The Grolar bear It’s half a grizzly. It’s half a polar bear. It’s called a prizzly. It’s a bit better though with solar glare. It eats people up totally until it’s full. It would eat you and me. Its fur is warmer than wool. It eats everything from squirrels to seals. It eats like a king, enormous meals. Stay away from those aggressors. It’s more vicious than its predecessors. To them, we’re nutritious.

  Mom Knows Best You’re always there for me and my siblings. You always talk to me on the phone. You love us all despite our quibblings and you love each of us alone. You’re ready with our coffee when we come over to visit. You make fresh toffee for everyone without asking “Who is it?” You give me advice I cherish dearly. You love me despite my imperfections. We wrap Christmas presents together yearly and you mark my homework with corrections. You cared for us from the womb till now. You’d never kick up a fuss. There’s a lot that you’d allow. Thank you, Mom for being our best friend. You are the bomb! The laws of nature you bend.

  The Outhouse It’s brown, it’s cruddy. At best it looks muddy. I won’t touch it because it’s shit! I’d rather see a murder bloody than fall in the shit pit! I was pushed down in it one fateful day. Yes, down the latrine. I wish my brother had found a different way to be so very mean. I nearly drowned. I screamed. I frowned. I yelled for help outside. Nobody came. And I don’t blame them. I finally gave up and cried. A farmer came to my rescue. He said I must be new to latrines, since I had fallen in. I explained the actuality that I didn’t have a mentality to take the latrine for a spin.

  Group Hug I confess my sins to my support group. We provide each other moral support. We’re all people who’ve gone round the loop. Each of us is a good sport. We laugh about mischief we make. We have each other’s backs. We find the real world hard to take so we share life hacks. We hug each other when we’re sad. We hug each other when we cry. We hug each other when we’ve had a bad day and don’t know why.

  Conscience My conscience is a pain. It really holds me back. It takes over my brain and gives me a lot of flak. My conscience tells me not to drink. It tells me not to lie. It tells me not to puke in the sink. It tells me I should die. My conscience made me leave my friend who used my mother’s house and drove her round the bend but he was a little louse! My conscience told me to forget taking a day off. My conscience told me to regret not covering my mouth when I cough. But conscience, while good, is also bad if you don’t know how to use it. I guess the experience I’ve had has made me neglect to choose it.