Crack Whore Chronicles

When someone calls you and the first thing out of their mouth is, "GOD! Okay, this is what happened now..." You know you're in for a good time.

Seems the crackwhores - or at least ONE of the crack whores - is still staying at HB's place. (BTW, what IS the proper spelling - two words - "crack whore" or one word - "crackwhore"?) Anyway, I gather she was using his place as a flophouse-slash-brothel for the past week. HB was cool with that (whaaa?) until about Sunday, when he decided that he didn't want her doing her "business transactions" in his house. But, ever the gentleman, he offered to DRIVE her to a cheap hotel and pick her up when she was (ahem) done. I guess it was during one of these chauffering-events that the two lovebirds got into an argument and she started threatening to call the cops or something like that. HB freaked out and called Mr. September, demanding that he come over there and "help" him.

Mr. S., being an IDIOT, went over there. HB gave him a bank bag full of paraphernalia (whatever) and told him to get rid of it for him. HB was afraid that that gal "Cracky" would actually call the cops and he didn't want them to find all the (whatever) in his apartment.

Like I said, Mr. S. is an IDIOT, so he took the stuff and dumped it. Then HB told him that Cracky threatened to send her PIMP over on Monday to get her stuff out of HB's place. (No wait - it gets better...) Then HB had the BALLS to ask Mr. September to STAY AT HIS HOUSE THE NEXT DAY while he went to work, and PROTECT HIS PLACE AGAINST THE PIMP.

(you know it's coming...)

WHAT THE FUCKING FUCK????

What kind of "friend" would even DREAM of putting someone you alledgedly care about into that kind of potentially dangerous situation? I mean - that's like a potentially DEADLY situation! Pimps? Crack? JEZUS!!!!!!

Thankfully Mr. S. isn't quite that much of an idiot, and he politely declined.



So.

Next morning, HB called Mr. S. (You know where this is going, but I'll write it anyway.) He and his little chicky kissed and made up and they wanted the bag of (whatever) back. Well, you can imagine what would happen to a bag of (whatever) lying in a dumpster in bum-alley Austin. It was long gone, man. And of course, HB was pissed at Mr. S. - this being "all his fault" and all. . .

To top it all off, this morning while I was getting that latest update from Mr. S., HB called my phone. I didn't pick up, but he left a message: "Hey, it's me. I'm at work, just calling to say hi and see what's up." All cheery like nothing's going on.


GAH!!!



Always,

S