The Tweaker Tales Volume II: Innocent Introductions to Fatal Attractions

Tweaker Tales Volume II: 

Now during my last psychotic break, I threw out a lot of insults and ravings. With no real background or reasoning other than, this poor guy was kind of obnoxious and a drug addict reaching out for help. I am going to try and convey with as much humor, and as little ravings as possible. By the end you will feel the same way about this guy, than the religious right feels towards logic or the douchey left feel towards actual passions and non-regurgitated opinions.

The first thing I heard about Tweaks McGee was a story he had told everyone on his shift, during the first break, on his first day....

"I stayed at this girls house one time. I really wanted to fuck her. So I brought over 2 6-packs of Smirnoff Vagina Ale. I get there and theres some dude, so I was kind of pissed. She told me it was her room mate and he was gay so not to worry" At that point I would have started worrying. If I'm going over to, what I can only assume is a trailer in the middle of a field, to meet some toothless, talking, herpes sore. If I get there and there is some dude, who again I can only assume, is sporting a Magnum P.I. stache, Flock Of Seagulls T-shirt, and denim cutoffs. Is sitting on a bean bag chair with a crank-pipe in one hand, PBR in the other, and a glazed look of deviance in his eyes. It may be time to slowly back out the situation, or onto his face. ONLY if asked nicely though. Instead, as the story gets rolling again... he continues..."I said fuck it, it had been a long time since I got some" ( Hard to believe huh?)  "We started drinking, and that's about all I remember until I woke up the next day on the couch, face down. My pants and man-thong were pulled down and my ass was sore" It's not even that I have a problem with him getting date raped, that actually makes me smile thinking about it. Plus I doubt any of it that happened outside of his dream journal. The fact that he chose to tell that story to a group of 7-10 strangers who he would have to see every day was to say the least a bit odd. OK. Weird and i bit unsettling but not stabbable  F.Y.I.- I didn't add the part about the man thong for effect. Honest to Allah, he brought that fact the he loved to wear thongs up on an almost daily basis from the first day he started.  For some of you more conservative types, you are already on my side huh? I wasn't at this point, and I'm sure some of you aren't sold yet on stabbing him in the taint and shoving him in a trash compacter yet.  Just wait.

It was all the little things that make it ok to fantasize about ripping out his mothers womb and setting it on fire. I mentioned before that he had a lot of energy...He would be driving his forklift down the dock, holding onto the steering wheel tighter than a 13 year old boy holds onto his prick. and just bouncing...I mean coming off of his seat and slapping his ass down on it like his name was Cinnamon and he just wanted the memories to stop. Again, odd ,slightly annoying. Not murder material. Now, at this point he was just a source of amusement he would be him shouting things about cock and balls. We would all point and laugh at him, whisper horrible things when je was out of ear shot. He thought he was hilarious so everyone was pretty much winning(kind of like us huh?) When he would corner me at work and especially on breaks. He would almost aggressively and proudly bring up the fact he was a filthy speed freak, and that he was sad :(  I'm getting fried, so I'm a little more sympathetic than normal but, I'm still me and can't really bring myself to muster up any real words. I tell him what he knows he wants to hear. "You can do it. Just believe. You really do suck a good dick" Encouragement. Bad idea. 

One day another person from work, who I didn't hate used to hate, calls and says he wants to come hang out. Sure. I do like some people in small doses. So come on over man, can't wait. Open the door...Tweaks comes walking in behind him... Sweet zombie Jesus he knows where I live now. Still every once and a while I could stand him coming by for short periods of time. I....was...not...prepared. This is where I begin to fantasize about mashing his head with a giant garlic press every time he even made eye contact with me.

One of his favorite activities apparently, was to get really fucked up and come over to my house and tell me he wanted to hurt himself. Jesus Christ. I told myself maybe this is the only way he could think of to ask me to get him high without feeling like a bum. I know I like bums a lot more than vapid, sobby, vaginas. but whatever. Not like he's actually done anything but annoy me to the point of bashing my head the floor to get his voice to stop banging in my head harder an ecstasy fueled porno shoot...So he was no worse than most... Then...

This brainless hunk of human bile comes over with burn marks down his arms, BIG burn marks, like Fidel Castro used him as an ashtray. Not only did he have these but, unlike most people who do stupid, stupid things. He had no shame at all sleeveless shirt on. Brandishing the burns like they were merit badges from the Flagellum Society. He bursts in eyes redder than a fire truck. He must have had more cocaine in his face than Whitney Houston and Chris Farley at their times of death. He sits down and, if you didn't know I have a little baby boy. at this time he was maybe 3 months old, and his mother has the immune system of an AIDS patient. He begins to tell me not only about how much of a waste of air, blood, and cum he is for burning himself. But that his roomate may have MURSA. Yes super staph. I kicked him immediately out, against better judgment, I didn't inject Bleach into his cock vein not only to kill him but to ensure that as he decomposed there was no chance of his crazy goo mutating with squirrel spunk and making gremlins that rape babies. I just made him leave. Turns there was no mursa, so ok but, still enough to warrant at the very least, a tarring and feathering....

Can you handle one more?? You sweethearts.