My Life Has Descended Into Executive Directed Hell

So, many of you have been wondering...

"Where the fuck is Malakkar and his boring-ass blogs?"

Yeah, I know, for the three of you that actually have been paying attention, I've been about as amusing as watching grass grow. Or the latest season of reality shows. What can I say?

I could say that I haven't had time, which would be true. I'm actually fucking off to get this done, but hell, I'm tired of working through my lunch hour.

So here we go:

Malakkar's a free man, relatively speaking. It's not a coincidence that I haven't blogged heavily in the past two weeks, your's truly is no longer on home confinement. Not that I'm going out that much, but it does mean that my computer gets a lot less usage, and I'm sure the internet porn traffic industry has notice a recent recession that matches the economy. Advertisers are certainly demanding heads roll... there's a sick joke in there somewhere.

So... in the spirit of bringing you some more tales, it's time to start dipping into the history files, and talking about the things I've been relatively shy about, because I was still under the thumb of the prison authority, even though I wasn't in an actual prison.

1st off: I'm tired of drug treatment. More to the point, I'm tired of pretending to be an addict, so that I could get into the drug treatment program, so that I could get 9 months off of my sentence. The fucked up part of this program is that if you have a dirty UA (that's what they call it to "distinguish" the humiliating act of collecting someone else's pee, and lend it something akin to "credibility" rather than the utter ridiculous nature of it), you get kicked out of the program.

What happens in practice is that all the real drug addicts get kicked out of treatment, and don't get any time off, and all the fakers (like yours' truly) graduate the program, and get time reduced from their sentences. This is another classic example of the federal government having the law of unintended consequences striking home.

So did I fake a drug addiction, and travel from Lompoc, California to Cumberland, Maryland merely to get a measly 9 months reduced from my sentence? Fuck yes I did, and anyone who doesn't do the same is a sucker. Best acting class of my life. Spent 15 months as a fake drug addict, and had 'em all fooled.

Fuck Brad Pitt, fuck Daniel Day Lewis, I got you chumps beat in spades when it comes to acting. Of course, they're rich, famous, and good looking, so I'm sure they could care less about my little rant here.

But I am saying, "Hollywood, if I could ever find myself standing L.A. for more than a few days at a time, here I come!"