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Pickup Truck Rescue Missions + MOB mob: please forgive me for a mass mail-out…

Posted by Anntichrist S Coulter on February 23, 2012 – 10:06 pm

(For those of you who didn’t know me back in ’05 during the Katrina-evacuee-helping & animal-rescue-helping missions, the Hurricane Gustav waste of a good spine, the feral cat TNR/trap-neuter-release/rescue/relocate/rehabilitate work w/Cat Haven & my poor ol’ truck, etc., this group name refers to the amazingly-generous, huge-hearted folk who jumped-in with both feet to help me pick up the ball that EVERYBODY ELSE FUCKING DROPPED, when those who SHOULD have been rescuing human and critter alike DIDN’T DO THEIR FUCKING JOBS, especially those on the public payroll  —  when shit needed doing, these are the people, like all of you, who helped me GET SHIT DONE. Without them, and without you, none of my little ol’ “good works” could EVER have been possible, and y’all have helped a LOT of people and saved a LOT of animals, which is why we’ve gotten to become friends.)

This is an (attempted to be) “abridged” version of a letter that I just sent to my dearly-beloved friend Maria.  I’m sorry to dump this shit on y’all as a Cliff’s Notes mass-mail, I know how insulting that it must seem to y’all, WAY the fuck worse than those xmas “newsy” letters that people send out at random to brag about their accomplishments/their marriages failing, every fucking year, complete with full-color pictures, etc.  If anybody amongst the troupe sends out the GOOD xmas letters, please do not think that I’m insulting Y’ALL, ’cause none of MY friends are douchebags who send the SHITTY letters out. I can’t say or do ANYTHING right right now, like THAT’S new, but way moreso tonight, as of the news that I received as of 5P-ish, CST.  Just want y’all to stay updated on what’s going on, including the guy who’s SUPPOSED to show up for me to pay him not nearly enough to help me load & unload the truck @ the storage unit starting tomorrow, from ANOTHER letter, to another dearly-beloved, our very own fabulous author, Scott of Wo’C.

None of this makes ANY fucking sense, I know, just please try to digest it, because I don’t want anybody feeling left-out, especially if I am offline for any period of time and can’t tell y’all why or what’s going on.  I know, I sound like I’m becoming a mule for cocaine dealers or somesuch, but nope, nothing so “glamorous” for this broad. And yes, there are BILLIONS of real people, all over this town, this state, this country, this planet, who have it WAY the fuck worse than I do, to the forty-second power at the very least. I’m not trying to be the center of the universe (believe it or not), esp. since it has no center.  I just want y’all to know that this shit got a WHOLE lot worse, SUDDENLY and with NO WARNING, and that I’m homeless in TWELVE DAYS, instead of TWO OR THREE MONTHS.

I love you all and am so grateful that y’all are strong, brave, kind, and loving enough to be MY friends.

XOXOXO
Joanna/Annti

——– Original Message to Maria ——–

(I wish that I could call you right now, but I’m such a fucking trainwreck, and my blood pressure is spiking so fast and so high, you do NOT wanna deal with THAT big hot mess.) Not like you’ve never heard me cry and freak out and whine like a little bitch before, but right now, I’m actually fucking TERRIFIED, and you KNOW how much I fucking fucking fucking HATE HATE FUCKING HATE fear.

Stupid moron bitch “tenant liason” bitch has been telling me ever since I got the eviction notice on Feb. 6th, that I should NOT rent a storage unit, that I should NOT move any of my things/boxed-up belongings/furniture/ANYTHING out of this apartment, that I WOULD be squatting here for the TWO TO THREE FUCKING UNBELIEVABLE FUCKING MONTHS THAT IT WILL TAKE FOR QUADEL/START CORP (The lying heartless bitches who were supposed to PROTECT me from the racist discrimination, from the threats and attempted intimidation, the endless harassment, the actual PHYSICAL ASSAULTS by the junkie/hooker/crackhead/schizophrenic grab-bag of lowlifes all around me, the EVERYTHING ILLEGAL THAT’S BEEN DONE TO ME, BUT THEY NEVER ONCE FUCKING DID!!!) TO GET ME NEW HOUSING, and that QUADEL WOULD CONTINUE TO PAY THEIR SUBSIDY TO THE OWNERS/MANAGEMENT CORP, MICHAELS CORPORATION OF NEW FUCKING JERSEY, THE WHOLE TIME THAT I’M HERE SQUATTING, WAITING FOR THAT NEW APARTMENT.

Annnnnddd THEN, about an hour ago {EDIT:  Now FOUR hours ago}, I find out that NONE OF WHAT SHE SAID IS FUCKING TRUE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Instead of the 2-3 months to get my shit into the storage unit which is too small and too expensive, I now have TWELVE MOTHERFUCKING OUTRAGEOUS COCKSUCKING DOG-FUCKING DAYS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

And I can’t even get a decent-sized dose of valium to keep my b/p from getting high enough to kill me.  Teh Dick was SUPPOSED to be 70 today, if he hadn’t pussied-out and died on PURPOSE (yes, actual medical & verbal explanations, long story)…  {Redacted for y’all’s benefit, ’cause most of y’all have heard all of that shit before, over and over again, how I haven’t been able to believe the fallacy that I have “nieces” or a “nephew,” [the YOUNGER, surviving "nephew," Tater was the only one who EVER appreciated anything or who ever really loved me/wanted me to be a part of his life] or that they ever loved or appreciated me, or that I’ll ever see my great-nieces & great-nephews again, for four years now;  they broke Teh Dick’s ‘heart’ by lying about me, got me “disowned,” etc., and were lying to cover THEIR felonies, etc., and HE wound-up dead.}

I may use this (my part here, none of your information or writing) as a form letter to mass-mail to my e-mail/online/IRL friends, just to give them the Cliff’s Notes of the sudden horrible news, I hope that it won’t offend you that I’ll be kinda Ccing it to others.  I just can’t tell this story over and over and over afcukinggain.  My body is twitching all over (no P/T in a week+) and my brain is a brick.

Sorry to dump all of this on  you, darlin’ heart, but that, as Cronkite would say, is the way it is.  I’ll probably have a P.O. box on the first, but won’t be able to have a home-healthcare aide again (the last one, a pure-hate midget bitch who treated me like a fucking MANGY DOG and tried to fucking KILL ME BY ATTEMPTING TO WRECK MY MOTHERFUCKING TRUCK WITH ME IN IT!!!!) until I can move into an actual shelter or apartment.  Dunno when the phone will be disconnected, but I’m going to pay to keep my Bellsucks address open and be able to use WiFi when I can find a hotspot. And no, those “free” phones for po’ folks aren’t possible, because they’re a fucking THIEVING SCAM to get ILLEGAL ACCESS TO MY CHECKING ACCOUNT, because they don’t tell you HOW MANY MINUTES YOU GET EACH MONTH, but they will DUN YOU THROUGH AUTOMATIC-ACCOUNT-BILLING WITHOUT YOUR PRIOR KNOWLEDGE OR CONSENT.  That’s why I don’t have a cell. A “throw-away” phone may be possible at some point in the future, and if it is, I will call you as soon as I can get one.  No pity or help whatsofuckingever from the F.U., just another fucking bitch-fight from her when I call her with this news.  Yup, there’s “family” for you. 

Most of all, I want you to be a witness to the fact that I have legally, through the USPS, invalidated my last registered-with-the-state living will/durable power-of-attorney/jury-rigged and/or half-assed “will” that I included with the living will. Ain’t perfectly legal, but it’s a state document.  ALL OF IT IS IS NOW INVALIDATED. ***NONE*** of my so-called “relatives” are to have ANYTHING to do with my living will, my organ donations, my durable power of attorney, my property & any cash, NOTHING except that the F.U. is supposed to get custody of Biddy, as there’s nobody else nearby to do it. I just hope, that if anything adverse actually DOES happen to me personally, like the most-likely-hypochondria-thinking possibility of a heart attack or stroke, that she’ll keep Her dog-fucking, dog-torturing, dog-beating, dog-EVISCERATING, dog-MURDERING retard flunky inbred no-neck neo-nazi-wannabe MASSAH, aka The Son King, WAY the fuck away from Biddy.  PERMANENTLY.  Other than that, Candice, who “adopted” me as her surrogate “not-tha-mama” ‘mother’ back when she was in 7th grade (she’s TWENTY-ONE AND ENGAGED NOW!!!!), is the ONLY PERSON LEGALLY ALLOWED TO HAVE ACCESS/RIGHT TO DISPOSITION OF/TO MY PROPERTY, POSSESSIONS, WRITINGS, INTELLECTUAL PROPERTY, ETC., AND ONLY SHE HAS MY DURABLE POWER OF ATTORNEY, CONTROL OVER/INTERPRETATION OF MY LIVING WILL, or any other medical/postmortem decisions about my corpse/organ donations/cremation, should anything happen to me after I am evicted from here on March 6th, 2012, as unlikely as such an event may be.
I know how negative, alarmist and ridiculous that it sounds to “publish” this to all of my online family, my REAL family, at a time like this, but you KNOW the nightmares that I have endured at the hands of the medical industry, and that if anything CAN go wrong, it WILL go wrong, and it will happen to ME.  And no one will ever be punished for any of it.  I’m a permanent take-yer-best-shot get-outta-jail-free card, even though only one cocksucker who’s harmed me has EVER seen the inside of ANY jail for it.

I’m hoping that, failing everything else, which, thus far, is just what’s happened, I can get a KOA camping/parking space somewhere nearby and can make a “tent” out of the tarp for me & Biddy.  Whatever the arrangements, you’ll be the first to know.  I’d rather be downtown at that RV park next to the interstate, but they don’t allow homeless bums like me to “camp” there, vehicle or not.

Again, I am so sorry to be dumping all of this shit on you right now, but I just found out that I have less than 12 days left indoors, about two hours ago. I can’t even process it yet.  Yes, I’ve been homeless before, but I eventually found a livable (no electricity except when borrowed from next door, no hot water & no baths except when neighbors would let me bathe at their places, no food that couldn’t be kept in an ice chest, 8 kazillion 5-pounds-each flying cockaroaches the size of my palm, etc.) squat. I don’t know how to do that anymore, and don’t have anyone or any organization or what-have-you who could hook me up.  I would give anything to be 23-26 again, and to have that energy, relatively “good” health, and the chance to do it all over again and BETTER, but such is life.  If my Nannie hadn’t died, if Tater hadn’t died, if Teh Dick hadn’t died, etc.  If the three people that I trusted the most in my life in 1993-95 hadn’t all treated me like a moron and lied to my face.  If I weren’t so fucking hyperlexic fucktarded.  So forth.

XOXOXO
Love,
J

To Scott:

Reason I’m freaking to YOU, in particular:  Instead of 2-3 months of “squatting” here in the apartment until Quadel/Start Corp finds me another apartment, I am actually EVICTED, yes, in the REAL WORLD version of the word, on March 6th, and have to have all of my shit into a storage unit in LESS THAN TWELVE FUCKING DAYS!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Seriously.  I can cover the first month of the storage unit, until I get paid on the first, but I’ve only been able to find ONE guy who “most likely” will show up to help me load & unload the truck a couple times a night, though he refuses to tell me how much he wants in cash for the work, or if he definitely can do it or not or when.  And as he plays phone-tag games when he’s not even AT WORK, I have a filthy suspicion that he thinks that I’ll be “paying” him with pussy (yeah, I know, an egotistical assumption for a toofless meth-whore looking slob, but worse-looking/unemployed/cracked-out guys STILL hit on me, gross as I am, and so do cute European boys with bright blue eyes… until they see all of the broken-off toof stubs, anyway), and THAT.  AIN’T.  IT. His name, btw, is Dwight *****, in case I show up missing at some point between here and the storage unit joint.  About 6’2.5″, maybe 170 lbs., short-cropped hair, medium-brown “black” complexion, rangy and bony, nice smile, but evasive eyes.  Works at (cheap store in the neighborhood), right around the block from the apartment.

Never given out a BOLO description of anyone who’s ever helped me move before, no matter who they were or how I knew them, but I just met this guy a couple days ago at DG and he SEEMED all nice & respectful THEN, but on the phone, I don’t altogether trust him. I’m hardly the expert on understanding human beings, let alone reading their squirrelly little brains, but I’m getting a bad/negative (as opposed to bad/”dangerous”) vibe from him, which reminds me a lot of other guys in my past, and not GOOD guys.  I do NOT have time for some motherfucker hoping to score when my fucking LIFE is on the fucking fulcrum, y’know?  But he’s the ONLY person in Orleans Parish who’s actually said that he’d help. Well, at DG, he said that he WOULD help, now he says that he MIGHT help. Any other questions?

I begged the nice varied-Arabic guys @ the corner store to loan me a cousin or a nephew or niece or SOMEBODY who’d do manual labor for insultingly-low pay, but no takers.  None of my physical therapy people can do it b/c of work schedules and mebbe they don’t love me THAT much, I dunno, anything’s possible, it’s not like anybody owes ME anything, outside of the aforementioned felons in my past/life/etc.  I’m the one in debt to EVERYBODY ELSE.  Except said felons and teh F.U.  SHE still owes me several grand, but I’ll never see it OR teh Dick’s will, even though it’s been almost 2 years since he died.  The main thing is that I actually am not physically capable of doing this shit on my own anymore.  It kills me to admit it, blows the fuck out of my once-aspiring-to-badassedness “image,” mostly in my own head, but there it is.  I’m old and crippled and exhausted and my hands are weaker than a drunken ferret, and far less predictable/reliable.  (And no, I’ve never given any animal alcohol of any form, thankyewverymuch.)

I am severely short of what I thought that I would have by now, even with token help from the F.U., and I do mean TOKEN. Not only is it the end of the month, and you know what that’s like, I know, but it’s the end of the month when I have no fucking CHOICE about doing this shit.  If the idiot bitch hadn’t LIED HER FUCKING FACE OFF TO ME FOR THE PAST MONTH, I’d have had this shit DONE already, even if I had to do it all by my broken-down fucktard SELF.  She told me NOT to get a storage unit, NOT to pack-up to move out, NOT to “worry,” and that I WOULD have those 2-3 months where Quadel (Reganomics subcontractor who writes the federal checks for the subsidies) would still be PAYING THEIR SHARE of the rent, ergo, *I* would still be “COVERED” by that, “legally,” and nobody would send Sheriff’s deputies here to throw all of my few remaining possessions OUT INTO THE FUCKING STREET FOR THE MAGGOTS TO HARVEST.

And yeah, there will be quality time in the truck, with Biddy and a tarp.  Don’t care about that right now. …   Just had ONE tire fixed today, because I picked-up a nail in the very thin/worn-down tread, so no telling if that’ll happen again or not.  I have NEVER had a disorganized move, EVER IN MY LIFE, at least not since my “parents” lost the house and threw me out without even letting me get any of MY stuff outta the fucking attic.  I’ve moved over 30 times in my life, and I have NEVER had to do it last-minute or because of a fucking EVICTION.  ALWAYS MY DECISION, MY PLAN, MY FRIENDS, MY WAY.

Now I’m at the mercy of some bony weirdo who thinks that he can play cellphone games like I’m some chick who’s trying to get him to ask me OUT or some similar stupidity.  …

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
So now y’all, the Pickup Truck Rescue Missions + M.O.B. Mob, know
the basics and the bullshit, hopefully not too much bullshit to tolerate. As I mentioned, I will stay in touch with EVERYBODY as much as I can, and if I hit the Powerball or some equally-likely freak-of-nature thing happens and I am NOT outdoors as of March 6th, y’all will be the first ones to know.  And, as always, I’m sorry to vomit so much fucktarded drama onto y’all’s laps (ugh, sorry, did NOT mean to draw THAT picture, but it gave me a minor chuckle about a sales doooood {not ENTIRELY a nematode like all other radio sales scum, but damned close} who received a most-unsuccessful blowjob once…  heh heh heh…  Hey, disgusting as it is, ya takes yer chuckles where you can get ‘em.  Especially when your “neighbors” are celebrating your misfortune by letting SIX-YEAR-OLDS IN NO FUCKING HELMETS RIDE UN-MUFFLERED, STREET-ILLEGAL 4-WHEEL ATVs BACK AND FORTH AND BACK AND FORTH AND BACK AND FORTH IN FRONT OF YOUR HOUSE FOR FOUR FUCKING HOURS STRAIGHT, IMMEDIATELY AFTER YOU FOUND OUT THE WORST NEWS SINCE, well, y’all don’t need reminding of that stuff}, but, if I DIDN’T let y’all know what was going on, how would you know? I suck at trying to relate to/communicate with humans, especially the BEST humans possible (yeah, that would be Y’ALL), I just hope that I haven’t clusterfucked this little “news update.”

Any questions, advice, directions to Piyush Jindal’s trust fund or that scumsucking douchebag Tom Benson’s McMansion, etc. are MOST welcome and happily received.  In the meantime, I’m going to throw a box of roofing tacks out into the middle of Pleasure Street…  it’s not even ironic, to name THIS hellhole “pleasure,” is it?

I love y’all so much, and am so grateful to not only share the planet with such amazing people, seeing as how the majority of the planet are outright flaming ASSHOLES, neanderthals, greed whores, knuckle-dragging fucktards, thieving genocidal war profiteers, oil & petrochemical murderers, and Bill O’Reilly, who qualifies for all of the above  —  but I am most grateful that y’all, these wonderful and remarkable folk, actually want to be my friends. And that y’all have stuck with me, all of this time, through thick and thin, or shitrain and shithurricane, hell-tornadoes and vomit-tsunamis. Yeah, I dunno what it is with the vomit imagery tonight, sorry about that, too, but it’s what the 40 cars parked in front of ‘my’ apartment, the unlicensed dirt bike douchebag with no muffler that keeps revving its engine (can’t tell sex or identity under that crotch-rocket faux-leather & helmet costume) ON THE SIDEWALK IN FRONT OF ‘MY’ FRONT FUCKING PORCH  —  if it didn’t hurt so fucking much, I would HAPPILY go outside and puke right all over EVERY SINGLE ONE OF THESE BASS-TUBE-ADDICTED MOTHERFUCKERS.

Hey, it’s not an assault if you’re BARFING-UP YOUR TOENAILS AND GIRL-PARTS, IS IT?!?!?

Shutting up now.
Love and gratitude,
XOXOXO
Annti/Ranty/Fearckadelic/ExposedJugular


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  1. 1. Anntichrist S Coulter Said:

    Hey, thanks for the pingback! It would help if you included our URL in your post, though… http://seditious.org/annti/

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