10 years of degeneracy and counting. TL;DR

Note from the Editor: According to the writer, this thread ends up with Cannabis as the subject... so don't despair, read the whole story before pressing the report post button
~Payaso

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This thread should really be titled a lifetime of degeneracy and counting, but due to too much backstory we will begin 10 years ago. In the interests of holding peoples attention, I will give you some cliffnotes of my life up until 10 years ago.

· Lived a relatively normal childhood (loving parent etc) although early warning signs were always there I was a degenerate.
· Excelled in class and particularly sporting endevours, but never got close to trying very hard, I was always too busy corrupting others around me
· Discovered drugs & alcohol around age 15

Ok so let me begin.
I had a drug & alcohol fuelled teenage experience. The kind of memories that would make one either shudder or be extremely proud, im caught somewhere in the middle of these two extremes and I feel numb to it all really. I banged everything that moved, F***** heaps of fat ugly chicks, and a few 6s in between. Im a chronic sex addict, I just love f******. Due to this, I have also become a chronic masturbator in my middle years of life.

One of my main problems / skills is that I just cannot ever stop. Im a fiend; I’ll repeat that, im a mother****** FIEND. I just love to party, drink, and screw. Leaving the fully commited homeless street crackheads out of this somewhat skewed comparison, I consider myself near the top echelon of committed fiends.

Somewhere in my very early 20s I managed to graduate with the standard business degree from a somewhat respected University. At this point I thought it was merely a matter of time before I ran a multinational corporation and would have fresh hookers & blow for the rest of my baller life. Oh how close I was to the truth.. Except replace fresh with cheap, and replace blow with meth and you may get closer to the reality I was facing.

I managed to hold a 9to5 job down for the earlier part of my 20s. It would sap my soul but there was always the weekends which I could look forward to, which would usually end in a Sunday drug & alcohol fuelled comedown, pitying my poor workmates in advance knowing they would have to deal with my miserable depressed mood at work until at least Wednesday afternoon. I did find hitting the pub on Monday night after work to be an absolute saving grace, in terms of my utter determination to be in a completely abysmal mood towards life, other human beings & work.

I was around 23 the 1st time I tried methamphetamine. Before this time I had done weed in all its various forms, acid, E, what I thought was coke but alas it was maybe 5% pure with the other 95% consisting of crushed sleeping pills, talcum powder, and scent of whore. Needless to say that was not a pleasant experience at all as I sent that up my nasal cavity in a urine stained bathroom stall, and promptly began to feel very sleepy and not right at all (even for me) within about 25 mins. Im lucky to possess the constitution of a steroid fed racehorse otherwise for lesser mortals based on my combination of intoxicants that night it may have spelled a far more unfortunate end to my binge.

The first time I tried meth it triggered something in me I had longed for all my life. That feeling of invincibility, I still remember it like it was yesterday. I should mention at this point I have not touched hard drugs for approx 5 years, so steady the finger pointing for the time being please.

Anyway, that first time triggered what was to be a long and committed spiral into degeneracy, drugs, alcohol, sleepless weeks, prostitutes, casinos, major brushes with the law and more.

That’s all for tonight I will continue the story in the days and weeks to come.

Please feel free to leave any comments both positive and negative

Peace and love to all that read this

Darth

Please don't be so derisive of yourself.

The basic thing nobody asks is why do people take drugs of any sort? Why do we have these accessories to normal living to live? I mean, is there something wrong with society that's making us so pressurized, that we cannot live without guarding ourselves against it?
- John Lennon

I agree with Mustard, Don't beat yourself up. Congrats on 5 years off hard drugs.

i think you should write a book! fear and loathings meth fuelled bastard son.

I felt like writing a bit more tonight so here it is…


I will resume my tales of debauchery in the urinals of a casino, for that is where it seems appropriate to continue. See I have this unjustified fear of pissing in public places. I can remember clearly when these seeds of doubt were implanted in my brain and penis functions. A good friend of mine when we were around 18 once coined the phrase “stagefright” Thing is I don’t have a small penis, nor any STI’s, so rationally there is no reason to worry about taking a piss in front of other men. But for some reason I have convinced myself I cannot piss in front of others. This mental hold has constricted my urinary tract for the better part of a decade. This has caused me many uncomfortable situations stuck at the urinal with my d*** in my hands for minutes or longer in front of complete random strangers where I just cannot take a piss. It doesn’t matter how badly I needed to go prior, when I get up to that piss trough my s*** just closes up worse than a homophobic at a gay pride parade. That uncomfortable glance down, followed by some pathetic small talk (pun not intended) I know it all too well.


I spent a lot of time during these years at a casino, one casino in particular. The reason being everything else was closed at the time of night my vampiric hours conduced me to play.



The choice was between the casino or a well known biker, transvestite, hangout bar. I made my choice and was overall very content spending my time gambling and fraternizing with fellow degenerates of life.



It was around 2004 I played my first hand of poker at this casino. Specifically the game of no limit holdem, and later on pot limit Omaha. The game of poker was equally as addictive as drugs were to me, mainly because I was good at it straight away. Owing to a childhood of playing card games such as 500 & yuka with my parents and their friends, and being blessed with a naturally inclined mathematical mind, I found the smaller cash games at the casino easy pickings from the very beginning.
It was akin to taking candy from a baby.



Basically back in 2004 nobody knew how to play no limit holdem and if you were in any way above average intelligence you would destroy these games. I had a natural aggression when I played cards that aided me greatly in fleecing many fellow degenerates of their money. That’s not to say I did not lose also. Infact in the beginning before I became a consistent winning player, I would constantly put everything I had into play and lose it all. Rinse and repeat, that was my life.


I still had a full time job at this stage and would consistently head from the casino to my mind numbing job ( and vice versa) in the early hours after usually a messy night of gambling fuelled by drugs & alcohol. My workmates got used to my frazzled appearance and began to accept it as "standard"


But back to gambling, I knew I was good at this game, I knew I had a huge edge over the regulars frequenting the tables at this point in time. So it was around the end of 2005 after a year or more of committed recreational gambling, whilst still holding down my shit but well paying job at a bank, I decided to quit my job with a bankroll of around 5k and pursue playing poker full time. At this stage my drug & alcohol addictions were still rather mild compared to what would later become of me.

To be continued..


Peace
Darth

Respect, man.


Good to know I'm not the only one...

Minus the gambling and hookers.

It was around the end of 2005 I quit my bull**** “career” and never looked back. I’ll share with ya’ll how I came about quitting my final 9-5 job before I continue on. It was on a lunchbreak in the middle of town I was feeling extremely hungover, maybe 2 hours sleep under my belt and just generally hating work, I ventured downstairs to my nearest pub and ordered a beer. I had a few spare dollars in my pocket after paying for my beer with a drug soaked $20 note from the night before, so there wasn’t really much choice than to deposit the change in the nearest pokie machine, whilst I enjoyed my frosty tap beer. Within 10 mins I had won the jackpot (small for a pub as the max is $1000), it was around a $920 win. I was like f*** yeah this day is looking up, immediately earmarking this cash to be put on the poker tables later that night. I went up to the bar and collected my winnings in cash, went back to the same pokie machine with a 2nd beer and began to mindlessly deposit yet again. I couldn’t believe it when I hit a 2nd jackpot within like 5 mins max, neither could the alcoholics around me who by this point hated my very existence as for all I knew, it was all of their hard earned benefit money I was collecting.

I swiftly left the establishment slightly swerving after having sculled my 2nd beer back, $1700 richer, with the fore mentioned alcoholics weighing their odds as to whether they could successfully mug me in the street. I escaped the imminent mugging, went to hop in the elevator back to the 11th floor to my s*** existence, when it suddenly occurred to me, I really didn’t want to go back to my b**** of a boss and her period induced, lack of sex non drug induced, crappy moods. So I did a u-turn, high tailed it on foot to the casino 4 blocks away, and took a seat in a early afternoon cash game with my newly found cash and confidence. I sat down and the gambling lords continued to shine on me. I simply destroyed the games that afternoon, not due to my skill in anyway just due to being a luckbox. I finished that session up around $2400 which made me a $4k winner for the day. I never returned to work after that, never rung them, never said a word, NOTHING. I still wonder their conclusions on that matter to this day…


I met my first meth dealers somewhere around this time. A friendly, amicable couple, who both cooked this mind altering extremely potent drug. I remember they said to me onetime when we were passing around a massive homeblown glass pipe filled with a solid half gram of pure, “do you know we will buy packets of pseudo off you at $150 a pop”. Wait wait wait, I said, barely being able to contain my excitement. So all I have to do is go to chemists get a pack of cold & flu s*** and you will pay me $150 per pack?? They confirmed this indeed was their offer. So the next day after being up all night after smoking what would end up being a solid gram and a half of pure rocks with just them and me, I put on my suit (literally) and ventured down to my nearest chemist to assume the identity of a flu ridden banking ass**** looking for some relief. I got my first packet so easily I went and tried my luck again down the road. Bingo! That first day I think I got around a dozen packs, went back and collected my cash, got hiiigh as a kite again, and did not sleep for a further few days following my first real shopping experience.


This was just ridiculous.. It was like printing money, easy game i thought to myself. Armed with my new bankroll and a level of confidence previously unexperienced, I turned into a complete terrorist on the poker tables. I started playing bigger games, and possessing zero fear due to combination of massive bankroll and pure unlimited methamphetamine coursing through my veins, I quickly became one of, if not the most feared poker player at my local card room. We were playing $5/$10 blinds of no limit holdem and PLO with max $1000 buyins, I had no problem putting in massive amounts of cash in the middle on pure bluffs just to f*** with my opponents head. I was a gambling monster, people kept telling me so.. Things were going so well for me, I was invincible. Only needed 1-2 nights sleep per week and I was in control at this stage in my newfound gambling and drug career. I started making a rule for myself if I won at poker for any given night I could have a hooker. Surprising even to me, I stuck to this strict code of prostitution, and it payed off. I was winning 80% of my sessions getting layed 80% of the week by a different service provider of my choice.


Life was good, it was really good.


To be continued
Darth

So far I'm glad I've sworn off Vegas but please do go on

:friends:

I was busy frequenting the best whorehouses in town, my habits escalating by the week, like I said, life was good.


Money started to mean little to me, I would win some, I would lose some, it didn’t matter because I could just print more. I wasn’t a true baller but I had plenty of cash, better than that though for the first time in my life, I had freedom. That was what gave me true confidence. Nobody could tell me nothing, and if they did I just challenged them to a ridiculous pursuit like betting $1000 on who could do the most push ups. Have you even seen a fully charged meth head compete? I remember some fitness fool at a bar accepted my pushups challenge. I pulled out my 10k street roll (with plenty more at home) in folded hundreds like a baller, I could see his penis shrivel up and retract like a snail retreats into his shell. We finally agreed upon 500, he went first. He managed to do a respectable 63 pressups, his arms were shaking & jelly by the final few. I finished my vodka on the rocks knowing I was about to punish this gym fool in front of all his friends. Meanwhile this d*** measuring contest had attracted a bit of a crowd in the bar we were at. I busted out 60 like it wasn’t no thing, and did a further 20 just to kill his soul. I probably could have done 200 that night I had downed maybe a gram of meth just on my own plus was very fit to start with. Again… I was printing money. He left soon after, just to be a total ass**** I spent his 500 shouting my friends and their friends champagne like a total prick.


Around this time period I went on a pretty big downswing at the casino. Not from poker, I had discovered blackjack. Not just main floor blackjack, I was invited into a mid level VIP room where the minimum bet was $100 per hand. The casino was coming for me, I knew what was happening but I just didn’t care. I started placing some fairly serious wagers per hand playing blackjack and started to run like a god damn cripple. I knew my strategy whilst not perfect, was fairly sound. I managed to dump around $30k in a matter of weeks. The casino had won this round but it didn’t really hurt me too much other than make me work harder at printing money. By this time I had recruited a few people to aide me in the pill trade. The deal was always the same, I showed them exactly what to do and say, I drove, they did the shopping and we split it all 50/50, after the cost of the shopping. I was very upfront about the numbers and people respected me for that. I never got anyone in any trouble and made a number of people a truckload of cash, including me of course. My dealers were literally praising me like their prized asset, and f*** it, I was. There were a number of problems starting to appear though that I saw coming, but again I just did not care. The main problem was that there was a couple of prospects for a local gang that knew my dealers and they had started to try and angleshoot me.


I got to quit writing for now as my gf has just arrived and I need to go and f*** her brains out as she is extremely horny tonight, oh it warms my heart J)

To be fair though id doesn’t seem many are interested in this story judging by lack of replies so meh its all good.



To be continued
Darth

Fuckin A man. Congrats on quitting the hard stuff.


Please continue. This is highly entertaining but it also could help someone some day.

Hey thanks Zoso!

It takes quite alot of effort to write this so i hope some people are reading it. Without giving away too much there are definitely some great life lessons to be learnt from my story. I bottomed out, lost it all and then began rebuilding my life again from the ground up. I came back stronger than ever and nowadays am doing quite well indeed even though i say so myself! Sometimes its hard to see the light at the end of the tunnel when your up to your neck in s***

I'll try to write some more over the coming days. I would love it if this was to help somebody out there one day, even just one person if they are going through some tough times with these subjects, just knowing they are not alone may help them. That's kind of why i wanted to tell my story, and if for nothing more than entertainment im very happy with that also!

cheers
darth

Thanks for spending the time to write this. Very interesting , would love to hear more.

Dont stop now, thanks for the good read.looking forward the rest of the story. Some crazy shit going on.

There are many things I cannot stand in this life, one of them is bullies, another one is gangs. They can hide behind their motorcycles and leathers all they want but at the end of the day they are all the same, stand over merchants. So I had these couple of prospects up my a** trying to extort me, trying to get a piece of my action in some way. I told these 2 prospects under no uncertain terms to go and f*** themselves and that they would never get anything from me, in retrospect that was probably a mistake on my part. I also told my dealers to do something about this problem otherwise I would just quit and that would be that. Of course I was bluffing, by this point I had waaay to bigger drug & gambling habits to just walkout on the goldmine I had created, but I was determined to run this bluff to try and get them to fix the problem with the prospects. They had some words but it didn’t help whatsoever as I later learned they were being extorted also.

Next thing I knew the gang sent one of their patches around to my house to scare me. This guy was f****** scary, he didn’t have to be mean or talk tough to intimidate, he was just outright one scary mother******. Im almost certain he had caused SERIOUS harm to people before.. I won’t get into the exact specifics of what was discussed other than to say I had to pay them X amount every week in cash otherwise I would face their consequences, which in this case was serious violence. Now im not one to take threats from anyone but in this spot there was nothing I could do, for the time being anyway. So I started paying these f**** cash every week, I really had no choice at all. They told me if I quit they would just tax me in other ways; these greaseball f****


I tried my best to put this out of my mind as it infuriated me being extorted, so I found it better just to pay and forget about it.


After having my home compromised, I soon moved out and moved north to a beautiful coastal area in a gated community where I hoped I would not be found. I went to extraordinary lengths to make sure I never got tailed on the way home, plus I had an extremely fast turbocharged sedan pumping out around 450hp that I could just outrun anyone when and if I needed to. When I had moved house I went from living with a flatmate ( a good friend of mine) to living alone. This was the beginning of me starting to lose things in my life I cared about, in this case a great home with a good mate, now I was living alone because of these f**** and I was not happy at all about it.


I went and purchased 2 of the most, high powered steel BB pistols I could find and used to carry them on me at all times. My paranoia was through the roof due to all this BS combined with a massive meth habit and little sleep. Things, including my mind were starting to unravel I could feel it. I started to see things when I had been on a long meth binge, it was standard by this point to go 5 or 6 days with ZERO sleep, followed by one night sleep and then another 5 days. I was always seeing shadows out of the corner of my eyes, I had lost a lot of weight as I just refused to eat when I was bingeing. I started to have less and less contact with my friends, and started to spend more time alone, constantly paranoid over everything. I remember my buddy came over one night and I had forgotten he even said he was coming over. I was up on the roof of my house with night vision goggles at close to midnight because I kept hearing and seeing f****** shadows and crazy noises from outside. In my mind it was perfectly rational to be up on my roof with night vision goggles at this hour, when I look back it amuses me how far gone I must have been.

Sometimes it’s the problems you don’t see coming that are the ones that end up f****** you the worst. I was so preoccupied with my internal paranoia, and being extorted by the gang, that I didn’t see the pending investigation that was being put on me by a team of detectives in my district. This period of time in which I operated was just before the asian syndicates started to get a strangle hold on control of the precursor market. This was bad news for me as I was easily the worst offender in my district and as a result the police had no problem putting a team of detectives on my case. My case even had been given an operation name I later was stunned to learn.


I was extremely naïve to the consequences of what I was doing. I had been operating freely for the better part of 18 months by this stage, majorly offending just not giving a f*** for the consequences I would soon be facing. The next part of the story will be the initial bust followed by the dramatic series of events following this very unfortunate time in my life.


To be continued later today / tonight
Darth

Excellent Read

Wow! What a greatt read!! The suspense you've built in your story (especially in your last entry) has me really excited to hear the rest

Please keep it coming, soon!! And great to hear that it sounds like your in a better place now

Did my post get deleted? Excellent read!! Great suspense builder, can't wait for your next
'chapter'

Please keep it coming!!!!! Post your next entry tonight!!

I still remember that moment like it was yesterday..

I had just woken up after an epic sleep following maybe a week without any sleep whatsoever. It was around 2pm in the afternoon. I had just rolled a joint of some very fine quality weed, literally had it in my mouth with lighter in one hand, and then they burst in. The team of 6 detectives headed by their leader came bursting into my lounge with a search warrant. My very first words out of my mouth following removing the joint were, “is this a joke?”

I was so caught off guard by the situation, combined with the fact that when you awake after a massive meth binge you are in a complete daze anyway, I just didn’t know what was happening. They made me sit down on the couch and I still had the joint and lighter hidden in my left hand, they must have thought it was a ciggie. They presented me with the search warrant and told me who they were, it was starting to sink in. I still don’t know why I did what I did next, but a few minutes into the interrogation when they were slightly distracted I lit the joint real fast and managed to get 2 massive tokes from it before one disgusted detective ripped it away from my hands. I said something along the lines of “shiiieet I was just about to pass it to you anyway” as I coughed and blew a massive cloud of smoke into their general vicinity. They didn’t appreciate that much, but I had some much needed THC in my bloodstream which was very much appreciated at that point in time.

They then were asking me questions like, for our own safety is there any chemicals on this premises we need to be aware of, thinking that I was a cook. The answer was a clear no, they proceeded to search my home top to bottom whilst making me sit on the couch, minus the joint, which the smell of, was still lingering in the air. After they finished their search and found nothing except about a half z of weed which they couldn’t have cared less about, they arrested me and took me down to the station. On any other day they would have found a lot of incriminating things but I had had a massive cleanout of all my gear earlier that week. Very very lucky that was. I got let out on bail a few hours later, had to get bailed to a family members address because these c***suckers contacted my landlords and basically told them I was the devil and they evicted me immediately. S*** was going down.

You would think at this point I would have got the message, but all I could think about when out on bail was going to get some more gear. I continued shirking my bail conditions, and just generally running rampant for the next few weeks. I was out one day with this girl I had just met (non-prostitute) when I got a call from a family member telling me the police had been around to check if I was there ( I was on 24 hour curfew) and they had issued a warrant for my arrest. I had finished smoking a massive creamy bowl maybe minutes prior with my new girl, and was filled with false confidence. I rung the detective handling my case as I had his card and asked him what was up as I had just had to head out for a minute it was an emergency. He basically laughed, said whatever mate and told me I would be arrested on site for breach of bail conditions. I chose some nice words for him and hung up the phone, ripped out the SIM card, and destroyed the phone. I was now a fugitive, game on bitches!!


More soon
Darth

Thanks for sharing, nice read Dude. I dig your writing style. thought I'd add if you remember any stuff that's not in chronological order write it any way! this is real interesting

I spent the next few weeks with my new girl hopping from motel to motel, living low. I had to ditch my ride at a friends place because it was a notorious car, plus it was registered in my name. I got the girl to hire us rental cars under her name so we could still move around freely when needed. I knew this was never going to end well, but I thought may as well make the most of my freedom whilst I still could. Going to the casino was out of the question as they knew I gambled heavily and would have put out alerts for me there. Luckily I knew this one underground card room so I still went and satisfied my gambling urges a couple of times during this period.

My luck ran out when one night I had to move my car from where It was for reasons I can’t go into here. I was scared shitless as soon as I knew I had to do this, it was a very risky play getting behind the wheel of this car but I literally had no choice. After finding another place to hide it, the girl and i got a taxi round there and picked it up. My heart started beating fast as soon as I backed it out on the road as if it was a sign from above as what was about to unfold.

If you notice the signature at the bottom of my posts, it contains a favorite yet simple quote of mine from the movie The Last Boyscout. I always prided myself on being prepared, and this included always keeping a full tank of gas in my car just in case I ever needed it. When I drove my car on this ill fated trip, I had but a quarter tank of fuel but had no intentions of stopping and filling it as I was only running the gauntlet for a few kilometers.

Like I said, we backed out of the driveway, heart beating like a mother*****. I was about half way to my new safehouse when I stopped at a red light. It was like terror in motion when I saw a plainclothes cop car pull up in the lane next to me. I had tinted windows and it was night so he couldn’t see me but I could sure see him. As the lights turned green I was turning left as he was turning right, I was thinking thank f*** I may just escape this. Just as my heart rate had began to drop this f****** cop car did a double back on me and flicked his lights and sirens on… I nearly died of a heart attack I swear.

My girl was freaking out hardcore, but cop chases were nothing new to me. I had successfully outrun cops in the past and I clearly was not going to stop now. Race on. I had 450hp, charged up on meth (standard), and an ironwill to leave these f**** behind. I drove like a f****** madman that night, crazier than ive ever driven ever, I felt like I was racing for my life, Dominic Toretto would have been highly impressed with my driving performance. I lost the cop pretty fast through an industrial area, but due to my massive horsepower, high boost I was running, and heavy foot I was running out of gas rapidly.

Unfortunately during this chase I had gone in a completely opposite direction to where I was headed initially and was now facing a serious problem, I was about to run out of gas. I knew I had to get petrol to continue so after I had long lost this lone cop I pulled over for a quick splash and dash at some random petrol station in the middle of nowhere. My heart must have been doing 200 whilst I filled up meanwhile the girl was in the passenger seat completely frozen from fear and adventure. I was parked right next to a truck obscuring a view of my car from the road (or so I thought) when this undercover D car swept into the service station and jammed me in there.

GAME OVER

To be continued
Darth