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Tuesday, February 3, 2009

Can't Stop The Feeling


I feel good.

I really do. I feel very good. This is no WELBUTRIN rush, WELBUTRIN just doesn't have the kick to it that this does. I'm high, zipped, zapped on my own endorphins. I'm jazzed, as if I took a hit off my most favorite fix. My nose should be running, this is so improper. There should be a law against feeling this good. There should be some rules, but HAH, no one can stop me. I can do what I want!

"Dear Wecare Participant. We would like to take this opportunity to welcome you to the F.E.G.S. Wecare program. You were scheduled for an appointment for a medical assessment at the institute for Family Health on 1/22/2009. Our records show that you missed that appointment."

Did I say that NO ONE can stop me?? Uggh. WECARE... another phrase for DONTCARE. F.E.G.S is the worst hellhole that you can go to, believe me brothers and sisters. An unrealistic center whose sole job is to push almost any demeaning employment that they can find on you. And if you refuse, they go straight for your benefits. They threaten you with the food in you mouth, the roof over your head, the drugs in your system. That's F.E.G.S. We-don't-give-a-fuck-about-you.

What did I tell you? "We would like to remind you that these appointments are mandated, and are designed to provide you with the best possible treatment and services. Failure to report and comply with this appointment MAY result in the DENIAL/CLOSING of your public assistance case."

Here we go again. The same old song. We care about you so you'd better get your fucking ass in here bitches, or we'll cut you the fuck OFF! I can read bureaucratic bullshit by now. And typical to WECARE form, in boldface: "Your BPS appointment has been rescheduled for 1/28/2009 at 8:00AM. Any further undocumented absences may interrupt your benefits." Going for the benefits again. Just to make it clear to you. But the problem with this stupid letter isn't the cockeyed cakeshit that these fucks are threatening me with, but instead, that today is February 2nd. This fucking letter lounged around somewhere for a week?? And they only gave me a week?? And where was the first fucking letter?? Shouldn't there have been two?

F.E.G.S WECARE alright. I feel sorry for the people that have to work there daily. A soul sucking environment, where even light and hope can't escape. They move into the building like drones, walking like Skeks on a cold, winter's night. Miserable people, dying by degrees in their own juices. It's the darkside of the world people. Living proof the the end of the world is swiftly approaching.

Fuck, I don't care about taking a day off to go there and sit in front of a social worker half my age, who is so bored that they are twice as bored of me when I arrive. A social worker that doesn't address you, but addresses the computer AS IF IT WAS YOU. My problem is that when they close my case, I'll have to go back to social services and DO THIS ENTIRE SHIT OVER AGAIN FROM SCRATCH. It's needlessly punitive. And they are too mismanaged to have such punitive control. Look at this. I missed two appointments and didn't know shit about them. I could see missing the first one, but TWO??

Full of shit cock- suckers. I'll call them today and hear how my case is already closed and that there's 'Nothing that they can do about it.' But I'm smarter this time. I'll just go down to Social Services IN BROOKLYN, and start the process all over again, calmly. Go through the maddening throngs of equally pissed off lower class citizens and get back on the dole. Do you ever wonder why people resort to the streets?

Oooh poor hobo, stop your bitching. You're sucking the tit of the state. It should come at some cost. I agree. If F.E.G.S. wants to give me a job, why does it have to be street cleaner? And then cut my benefits and watch me dangle. Why not give me something in my training. I'm not without skills. STOP trying to play jobbank and BE one. And, get me my appointment notices ON TIME. Is that so much to ask for?? I'm not complaining against going, shit, they'll find out that I'm MI/CA (state term for Mentally Incapable/Chemically Addicted) anyway and freak out. They generally do. Shows you what years of heavy drinking and doping can do to you kiddies, don't do it.

But all of this should get me down. It should make me depressed, as it normally would. I should resign myself to my fate worst than death. Yes, I should be down in the dumps, but I'm not. Ha ha. Even F.E.G.S can't even fuck with my feelings. I'm soaring baby, soaring above the clouds. I know what you are saying about now: Damn, Hobobob, I thought that you said that your drugging days were over! What did you get your hands on yesterday?

No drug baby. Just feeling good. I suggest you all try it. Feel good for a change. Just give it a try. Thank your lucky stars for another day, and blow kisses at your surroundings. Plant a heavy one on all your loved ones. Plant a flower. Spank a deliciously sweet, round ass. Feel good for a change. There's nothing like it.

I promise you, you'll thank me for this tip.

Hobobob

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