The funniest thing about my psychotic episode was that I couldn’t recognize my own reflection and whenever I was in the bathroom there was always SOMEONE ELSE (me) ALREADY IN THERE and my reaction was always like “hey uh… what’s the deal with this guy??” Yknow like who’s that bozo

Putting quarters in Mothman’s asscrack until I get a citation day #3

WHO tf keeping pads with no wings in production?? Put it in your draws and by the time you walk out the bathroom it’s down the street buying scratch offs at the corner store. Like girl

When I was in rehab I had a roommate who was this little old black lady and she was completely blind. And I saw that and was like “anybody gonna be this lady’s guide?” And didn’t wait for an answer. I actually got in trouble for “perpetuating lesbianism” BECAUSE I WOULD LEAD HER BY THE FUCKIN HAND. And that was “”too gay for the program”” so I had to make sure she held my elbow instead and like. What really pissed me off is that she was not given aid whatsoever for her disability. It was fucking me doing her paperwork. I was able to help her sign her own name but I had to fill out all of her intake stuff and ask all these invasive ass demographic questions like don’t you motherfuckers have a guy for that??? I’m here trying to fucking recover too, not interrogate this poor woman with questions about whether or not she’s ever been raped or abused or whatever

Man at the bar on Saturday night, Craigville, Minnesota in 1937