the CONTINUING ADVENTURES!

FRONT PAGE/MISSION STATEMENT

2007-02-02T07:18:00.000-06:00

FRONT PAGE: you will land on this page whenever you activate a link to the CONTINUING ADVENTURES,however the contents of this page do not change,that is except for the link to the latest offering which is right here!
MISSION STATEMENT:a summary describing the aims, values, and overall plan of an organization or individual.
The phrase took on an almost cult meaning when it entered pulp culture with the release of the Tom Cruise movie "Jerry McQuire".
When the character Jerry McQuire wrote his Mission Statement it lead to his losing his job,which in true Hollywood fashion opened a new door of opportunity which after an epic struggle with conscience,was fully realized and they all lived happy ever after.

I hope this will lead me to some open doors and that I am wise enough to go through them at the proper time,so if any of you kind readers know of an editor somewhere looking for a freelance writer,put me in touch!Or better yet,a Hollywood producer who is interested in my life story!.I can only think of Mickey Rourke as the star,it is definitely a " Barfly (1987)" type of movie,where Rourke plays Henry Chinaski,a poet and alcoholic.I certainly can see a similarity between Chinaski and myself.
Perhaps before I go granting myself the Pulitzer Prize we should first take a minute for you to get to know me,and just what I mean by
MISSION STATEMENT.

the INDIVIDUAL I am an ex-con,ex-drug dealer,ex-thief,ex-forger,possibly(never proven!) armed robber,ex-fraud wrangler and adulterer.I have even been accused of murder(cleared thank you)
I am a recovering DRUG ADDICT,I woke up in the hospital a week after the police kicked in my doors and found me"dead"on the floor.This near death experience lead me to a better understanding of just what constitutes a real MIRACLE!

AIMS:
First and foremost my goals are to remain clean and sober,giving thanks everyday for my life and my newly regained family,but then:

I intend to depress you,make you sad,perhaps even to cry.
I intend to elate you and make you smile,perhaps even to laugh.
I intend to annoy you, anger you,perhaps even enrage
I intend to soothe and adjust you,perhaps even elate
I intend most of all to absorb, beguile, captivate, charm, cheer, comfort, crack up, delight, distract, divert, ecstasize, elate, engross, enliven, enthral, gladden, grab, gratify, humor, indulge, inspire, inspirit, interest, knock dead, make merry, occupy, pique, please, recreate, regale, relax, satisfy, slay, solace, stimulate and tickle you or in short,(why didn't I just say it?)
ENTERTAIN YOU!
I have learned a lot in the past few years,and the one thing that I have learned best of all(other then to stay breathing!) is that I will never be done educating myself,and to my great surprise and relief the excitement of learning is as fresh to me as to a new toddler.The mind is a muscle after all,the more I use mine,the better I feel,and the more inspired I get to write,and I have learned from a friend that I have a certain degree of talent,and that the words I write can have a positive influence on people.I hope to be able to pass on some valuable life lessons,and some inspiration,but do it in an entertain manner that will keep you coming back week after week,and that you will help me in my Quest for yet more readers,as they are needed for the next part of my plan to succeed.

GOALS:

I must admit,that when I first started blogging,my goals were not as altruistic as they are now.Although I was(and am) living on an extremely small disability cheque,I had some stock certificates and was determined I would be able to buy my children their first homes and to leave them a future that would just be a little more secure then without me.

I first started with a piece on the stock market and I was all pumped up with the idea that I was a brilliant stock guru of some kind.

I took that small legacy from my beloved Auntie,and after splitting it with my children and their mother,I invested the remaining few thousand in the volatile OTC BB and PK stock markets.As with most things in my life,as soon as it was obvious that I was going to be successful,I did something to screw it up.The story as been told so many times I refuse to repeat it,lets just say I left a PC on while I was in the hospital and some one cleaned me out.

I still intend to make right by my children,to be able to leave the groceries the food bank gives me for the single mother with the three hungry children who stare at me so accusingly,to be able to buy a warm winter jacket rather then beg for hand outs at the churches,to never again have to walk the streets looking for cigarette butts,(I know,quit,well one drug at a time okay?)or dig in the garbage bins for re-refundable bottles so I can make the phone and IP payment( it was a donation,and if it was any slower...the PC,not me!)My beloved daughter offers me all that I lack,but since I turned my back on her and her sister for sixteen years,I will never take from her.It would be like stealing from my granddaughters piggy bank or something.

My search and research into internet marketing lead me to the idea of pay par click ads,and I read of the thousands of dollars just waiting for me.Now I have been around enough to know when I am being snowed,so other then accepting the idea that I would have to work at it like nothing I ever had before,I never for a second thought that there were thousands waiting.

Roughly 1.2% of readers on a normal visit will be inclined to open up an ad site,that is of first time visitors,returning visitors are even less likely.The average payment is(now that Google as gone) is going to be around a dime.Ten cents.100 visitors means 12 cents.In other words,unless there is someway of attracting 10,000 visitors a day(not impossible),I will not be earning even a rudimentary living from these endeavours.

At the moment,without having a a couple years to build up a large and loyal readership who actively helps bringing in new ones,what other steps can I take?

I could call up all my old drinking buddies and go at get drunk,or look for a way to increase that 1.2%,and to have returning visitors show interest in the ads as well.

And what magic phrase must I intone in order to bring this about?Not magic,logic.If logic dictates that 1.2% will open an ad site ,then having two DIFFERENT ads,should entice 2.4%,follow me?

When first started writing,it was all about the stock market,and I announced my presence to stock market groups.Logic,and Adsense placed relative ads that would be of interest to the readers,and at that time my click rate some days approached 10%.

Here,with you,I do not have the luxury of breaking you down into demographic groups and present ads that would be in your field,as you are a cross section os society,representing every race and creed,and most countries of the world.I have the good fortune to have sitemeter.com as a traffic reporter,and they have a feature that everytime I look at it,my heart swells a little with pride and wonderment.They show a flat map of the globe,and little points of light shine at each place a PC as ME on their screens.It is humbling,but also informative.I am thrilled to see I have readers,right NOW in Canada,USA,UK,points all over Europe and Asia(the maps show no country names,just landmass) a few scattered in Africa,a lot in India.I see Japan,Australia's,New Zealand,New Quinea( or what ever it is called now)Taiwan,and one lonely isolated spark in China.If my readership is spread globally,how can I place relative ads in front of you?

It is impossible,with any one ad agent,and that is why I have four different ones on this page covering as many topics as possible.It is only by providing something different for each of you do I have any hope of rising my 12 cents per hundred visitor to an acceptable level of around ten.That is my monetary goals,however the emotional and inspirational ones go right along with it,as the more successful I become,the less effort I will have to put into simple survival and more into my craft.

So,I hope to be true to my calling of helping others with their addictions,whether they alcohol or drug addiction.I hope to inspire with my religious reawakening,and I hope that I have provided enough advertising of different products and services to raise my 1.2% into a more helpfully 6-7% and that I can include you in the list of people who where helped by one of the commercials,and that you do not let them distract you from the wonderful stories that are on the pages behind this one.May I suggest you start with My Bio and that then you move on to Life of Adventure is ?

A BETTER CLASS OF CRIMINAL what our prisons really teach us to be

2006-06-15T00:00:00.000-06:00

The first time you hear that door slam behind you,when it all comes together and you know you are no longer a freeman,that is the time when you have to be at your finest.What lies ahead of you,none of the stories or any of the movies featuring prison life could prepare you for.The first time I was jailed was in 1977,I was a twenty year old expert on everything.the charge?
MURDER.
The reason I was charged and not another?Simple,I was responsible,it was my actions,and then inaction,that caused that man to die.it was by my hand,and mine alone.There never was a question of who had done it,there was as it would turn out,seventeen people who viewed the last seconds of that man life,and I have never before today talked of that incident,and it is not my wish to drag it all up again,my family certainly does not wish me to even be this public,and I am positive that the deceased family wants no more publicity,as not all of it is kind to the victim.I mention this only as reference to my claim of being an expert on prison life.Perhaps at another time and place I will go into it,but this is not the forum for that type of tale.It was self defence,I was totally exonerated after an exhausting six week trial.
I did however spend eighteen months behind bars awaiting the outcome.Eighteen months to brood on what I had done,eighteen months of self incrimination's and speculations.Eighteen months of believing that this was to be my life for the next twenty five to life.Eighteen months of meeting the very best of the worst!
If that had been my only time behind bars,it still would have been enough to give me the background needed for this endeavour,how ever,it was only the beginning.I manged to stay out of trouble (meaning I was never caught and convicted ) for for close to ten years.
I offer no excuses,I do not blame my childhood,I do not blame the creep who( this as NEVER been revealed to a single living person until now!!!) sexually abused me when I was very young teenager( yup-the jokes and stories about boyscout leaders....LOOK OUT JOHN,your day may yet come)
I do not blame the death of my son,nor the death of my wife,I do not blame my addictions,and I certainly do not,like so many do,blame it on society.
I blame it all on myself.I can honestly say though,I would never had achieved the success I did as a criminal if it were not for my time behind bars!
Rehabilitation,the magic word,the reason you give for the practise of jailing those who have broken your laws.
Rehabilitation:
To restore to good health or useful life, as through therapy and education.To restore to good condition, operation, or capacity. Thus says a dictionary.
Let's examine it closer:
"restore"....."therapy" and "education",remember that word,education,we will be examining just what that means in the prisons you send us to.
I have used the terms you and yours as if I felt outside of the mainstream,as if YOUR laws were not my own,and that is exactly how a con feels after even a short stay behind bars.The world becomes divided between US and YOU.
WE develop a whole new way at looking at things that those who have not done time can not fully understand.I am not saying this is a good thing,in fact any thing that helps divide society is be definition a harmful event.I will just say one more thing that jail does,it:
CREATES BETTER CRIMINALS!
In 1989 I received a six month sentence for mainly bad cheques,a pretty minor thing,and since it was my first criminal CONVICTION I was placed in a minimum security work camp.
My employment just previous to being jailed( my legal employment,which was mostly a cover for my "illegal" activity) was that of a bouncer/bartender in a rather seedy hotel in the local "red-light zone"So it was no surprise that I meet many of the same people in jail that I had associated with on the street.
There was another "class" if you will of criminal I encountered in that first little stay.The "Professional"
Yes it was a minimum security facility,but it was also the stopping off point for some rather serious people who where finishing out their terms there as a way of returning them to society after a LONG prison stretch,some as many as fifteen years for such things as bank robbery,kidnapping,manslaughter and drug smuggling.
I had at that time adopted a strategy for survival of recognizing in any situation,just who was on top of the food chain,and then blending in with them.I have always had the ability to be a chameleon,to blend and fit into any role I wished to play,and although my crimes that had brought me there were minor,I made the conscience decision to gravitate towards those whose crimes where the most serious.It was a decision that would serve me well over the next fourteen years of my criminal career.

The one thing I gained that first little stint in the minimum security correctional was a line of credit that I would never have achieved without it.Oh.I don't mean that I could now walk into a bank and get their best rate,or any rate for that matter.When you have just been convicted of thirty nine counts of embezzlement and fraud,the only thing a bank wants from you is for you to leave the premises!
No,I walked out of that prison a man without a home,without any money(I do not count $19.56 as money)there was no such thing as any counselling or any other form of assistance.You had a home,possibly a job and family support group when you came in,but for many,when they are released it is into the streets to make or break,so is it any wonder the re-offence rate is so high?
What the statistic fail to show,is just how high that rate it really is,simply because there are a high percent who simply to do not get caught,at least not in the short term.
CRIME DOES NOT PAY!!
If that is what makes you feel good,go ahead and believe it,certainly for a lot of so called criminals ,it does not.There never as been,and never will be much profit in spousal abuse,disorderly conduct and mischief charges,nor probation and parole violations.
The last time I looked,the pay rate for common or even aggravated assault is not that great.Possession of a control substance usually means you have already spent all your cash and are now partying and that usually leads to you getting busted doing something stupid.Yeah,the prisons are full of people who never made a dime from their crimes,even murders are not paid that well!(I have earned the right to make light of the situation,humour is what kept me sane when I was up on a murder beef)
I on the other hand am almost proud to say that every minute of CONVICTED time I ever spent I was VERY well paid for,and in every case worked out to hundreds of dollars earned for every day behind bars.
What,you think every Drug dealer is caught the first time out?Not the "good" ones,(PLEASE,I AM NOT ABDICATING DEALING DRUGS OR ANY OTHER TYPE OF CRIME!)I am merely examining some of the reasons for our high rate of re-occurring felonies,and hopefully putting forth some suggestion from you as well as me on how we can lower that rate.I started out by saying that one of the things I gained was a line of credit when I was released from jail.That was due totally on my chameleon abilities I talked about earlier,and the habit of the correctional system of placing"heavies" into the "light" population at the ends of their long terms.While I was in on light crimes,I knew how to talk the talk,and if need be walk the walk.Having a murder charge behind me especially one I "beat"gave me great references.Always on the look out to take the easy street,I quickly adapted myself into a "heavy"at least in the minds of most of the "lights".So,there I was,out on the street,broke,homeless absolutely no family support( that I would seek out,that is another long story best told at another time)and absolutely no clue what to do.I knew about things like the Salvation Army,but since I was pissed off at God at the time,I would not turn to them,or any other organization that would help me.
I was,at that time in great physical shape,and had good work skills to fall back on,but for the moment I was stuck.I was also a bit"habitualized" a condition often found in those leaving the Armed Forces or any other place where the structure is in place for you.You know when and where you eat,you know when and where you sleep,shower,work,every thing is decided for you.
I found myself doing what I always did back then when finding myself in a difficult situation,I drank!So how long can nineteen dollars and change keep you drunk? about three days and four new girlfriends!( I had lucked out,I had been released the same time of month as when our government here in Canada dishes out a couple hundred bucks for each child under the age of eighteen.
A welfare handout you ask?No,it's "universal"in the words of our illustrious leaders,meaning each and every child qualifies regardless of the income of the parents.I regress,and I am to lazy to edit so will stumble on.There I was,in a bar,my arms around not one but two ladies I was doing my best to impress,the money,mine as well as theirs,all but gone.
What to do?Using one of the last quarters( 25 cent coin) in the pay phone,I called upon one of those "heavies"I had meet and hung with while in that minimum security prison.Within an hour I was $3500.00 in debt but on my way to becoming one of the towns most successful and sought out weed dealers around.I soon established the reputation of always:a)of always"having"and b)always being available,and)most important of all,the supplier of the highest quality found either side of the Rockies!!
Once again,I stress,I am not advocating this kind of lifestyle nor do i think my life as a drug dealer was without consequences.It would take more digits then I have on both hands to count the number of dead or disabled that I helped contribute to.Sure,I did not stick the needle in their arm,nor was it I who robbed that gas station and shot the clerk.It was not me who stabbed my husband to death while strung out on Ritalin.I could go on and on-in each case it was I who was suppling the drugs that were the underlying factor behind all of those crimes.
Is it any wonder then that my life as been filled with pain and tragedy?That I have lost more loved ones then most?I do believe that we all get what we deserve-one way or another.My only hope now is that I can contribute enough good to society that I can once again feel proud of myself.
I have made the first steps-and this narrative is part of it,as will become clear in the weeks and months to come.
No,prison is not the answer-however-it is a necessity-we must protect society-but I do honestly believe that if we invested in more treatment for drugs,education in both academics and trades for those incarcerated citizens it would have a very positive effect and would actually reduce the costs associated with prisons in the very near term.

A LESSON LEARNED

2005-12-11T04:45:00.000-06:00

It's an old adage,one we are all familiar with,"what comes around goes around" or do I have it backwards?doesn't really matter,you all know what I mean.
Or do you?what comes to your mind when you hear that phrase or see it written here?
To some,it is a ideology for revenge,and I must admit that I have,more than once, thought of it in that connotation myself.However,those moments thankfully are rare,and I am both proud and happy to say,are getting rarer and rarer as I live a more "civilized life style" these days
I would like to think that most of us think of passing on a good deed,or returning a favour when we come across those words.

For the longest time though I thought of them as God or the fates or who ever the hell in charge of this mess,seeking revenge upon me.
It is no secret that I have not lead the best of lives,and I certainly have had my share of tragedies to show for it.
I took comfort today in some words I read,they are in regards to life being unfair,of the price we must all seem to pay s we lose love ones or other hardships befall us.Those words,I dicovered,where written by someone I could relate to,some one I could trust:

"Life is of course not fair,and the loses we face are often higher then we think is should be due.
However,I will glady accept those loses,as they are part of the admission costs of life,and the more expensive the ticket,they better the show!"
Of course by now you all recognize the genius in those words and know who wrote them,so I will say no more,the guy's head is already to big!
I like to think of those words,"what comes around goes around" as not some philosophical debate,but as a simple code to live by,as in the oft misquoted bible verus dealing with due on to others,as you....I know I am misquoting,I could look it up,but better that you do,then the lesson will be better taught(that some advice from Socrates I believe)
I have a prime example of what I mean,it was just a day or so ago I was writting an email to a friend,and I was telling of my concern with having enough tobacco to last me until my next disability cheque,when I was interrupted by a knock on my door.
I live in a neighbour hood where we are carefull of who we open our doors to,and although I recognized the person as to being a next door neighbor,he was not some one I knew.
Throwing caution to the wind,and keeping my one hand in back pocket(never again to I go down without a fight) I open the door.It did not take me long to regret my decision,not that I was in danger of being robbed again,but by the request i was hearing from my new friends mouth,"Bro, are out of smokes,can you help a guy out?
Pulling out my pouch,and explaining that that was all i had,and no prospect of getting more anytime soon,I gave him exactly half of what I had,and his words to me were"cool dude,what goes around ya know" and he was gone.Not for one minute did I think about what I had done,not for one second did I regret my actions,I simply never thought about it again.
I was not at all surprise when about four hours later,the same neighbour appeared at my door,returning not only what he had borrowed,but insuring that I had enough to last me until I can hook up again.It wasn't a planned thing,when he had borrowed from me,he had no idea he could pay me back that quickly no it was just one of those things that keep happening,for those of us who have learnt the lesson of what comes around goes around.
Give more than you can afford,give for today,tomorrow will look after it's self.These are the lesson I learnt while on the street,and they hold true even more so now that I am living on a very fixed income(still waiting for the first cheque from Google,they pay "thirty days from the end of the first month that your earnings have reached $100.00,which for me was the end of August,so....)
I gave that tobacco fully expecting that things would work out,and if they did not,I would just have to get of my ass and limp around and pick up some butts off the street,and not for the first time.There is a gold mine of butts on our street here,ever since the government banned smoking in all public buildings.The fact that the same guy who borrowed was my salvation was due to the sudden and unexpected arrival of out of town guests to his home,and they of course came with the traditional offering of tobacco.
I know this story no earth shattering revelation,and it certainly will not bring any writing awards,I just thought that after last weeks DAY AT THE BEACH it would be a nice change.Couple that to the fact i am very tired right now,means that this is getting published in this horrible rough state,and i will hopefully edit it tomorrow,but for now,here is the promised page.

A Parents Love?

2005-10-10T01:01:00.000-06:00

FIRST TIME READERS ARE URGED TO ALSO READ
MY MISSION STATEMENT

I remember the excitement I felt as if it was yesterday,it was a warm spring day,the air was clear with a smell that every one who as ever been young in the country side would recognizes.A cross between lialic and manure,not the overwhelming scent of fresh barn manure,but the sweet warm smell all rural dwellers associate with pastures and meadows.
The group of us where fidgeting nervously,standing in the parking lot.Conversation was almost nil,just the odd whisper between us,as if we were guarding some dark secret,or planning some dastardly deed.An occasional glance towards the school,and then off towards the street,was the only hint of what was to come.
The large three story red brick building,which announced proudly,engraven into the granite header of the heavy double doors,that it had been constructed in 1909,sat silent.
If one could have listened through those heavy walls into the large square classrooms,numbered three to eight,you would have still heard the teachers intoning in their dry monotone to the remaining students,we,the fortunate ones, had been dismissed early.

Although it was not a school sanctutioned event that we were to attend,it none the less had the outmost approval of the founding school fathers and their elected officials.
In a genaration reared by the greatest of all generations,as those who fought and lived through the great second world war were to become known,it was not at all surprising to see young men in uniform,even those as young as I.
I had spent two long years longing to wear that uniform,ever since I first saw an elder boy wearing one,but alas,I had to wait till the ripe old age of eight before being allowed to wear the green and gray.

The first of the parents velehicles,and here is another memory crystal clear,a 1949 Chevrolet one-ton truck,the sun glistening off of the incredibly black exterior,came down the street and then veered into the school yard.
The truck wound its way past the group of us young men,the occupants totally ignoring us, and parked in a spot most often used by those who had come to the school on business,not the accustomed visitors parking lot.No such minor role would the occupants play,by parking in an official post,they were proclaiming their independence and announcing their importance.

Their presence was made all the more conspicuous by their next actions.The couple,as it could now be seen,a man and woman,both in or near fourty years of age,did not appraoch the group of young men,but sat silently in their conveance,as if they too were waiting for some event to transpire.

They did not have to wait long,a steady stream of cars and one other truck were soon to arrive on the scene,and the last mode of transport to arrive was a bright yellow school bus,arriving in a hurry,the driver swinging open the passenger door before the dust had even settled around it.
Out of the bus sprang a young man of approximate twenty five years of age,and he also was drapped in the colours of green and gray.
Not the short pants for him,he had on full leggings,and instead of the benie caps with the bright green button on top that we wore,his head was adorned by a Stetson,the felt creases perfectly formed,the tilt a perfect 22.5 degrees.
This was the Scoutmaster,and no pocket novel hero was more respected and held in awe,to us he WAS Lord Baden Powell himself,no one could be more feared and revered at the same time.
He stood waiting,as if we all knew what was expected of us,but none moved,it was as if we were frozen in our awe of him.Finally,with a look that I became to associste with annoyance,he pulled from his front shirt pocket,an official whislte,which could be purchased at the Army and Navy Surplus store for $1.02,a months allowance.I will always remember that whisle and the price of it,as it was a young boys dream to own such a whislte,but of course,that was a "toy"so would not be allowed.

The shrill blast brought to an end any last minute giggling and nervous chatter,and we guickly ran to stand proudly before him,in our best imitation of what we thought was the appropriate "at attention" stance.
This was it,this was to be the first taste for many of us on what it would be like to away from home without parents for the very first time.I know for myself it was such an occasion,and one held with great anticipitation.I was eight years of age,my birthday having occured some weeks before,otherwise I would have had to wait out yet another full year before joining the proud ranks of the Boy Scouts of Canada,Cub Division.
This was to be a wilderness expedition,no contact with the outside world for the next fourty eight hours,we would be traveling by bus some thirty five miles to a region romantically called the Last Mountains.The name must have been some early settlers idea of a joke,as the range of hills which consisted of the Last Mountains never rose more then a thousand feet above the prairie landscape.
The hills,which where lined with gullies and ravines,and dotted with willow bushes in the low land,and bald prairie with actual low creeping catus plants on top,was an area somehow missed by the Great Landscaper some ten thousands years earlier when the Glacier Ice pushed flat this fertile land,creating the great Mid-West,and thereby providing the greatest growing area in the world a little distraction from the flatness.
Though short in stature,and only running some fifteen miles in length,there a none the less a forbidable wilderness,where a misstep could cause a broken limb,and where a lack of concentration could lead to all sorts of misadventure.There were many stories of lost souls coming to an untimely end,though those tales were always about "some traveller"and never a local.Perhap they were tales to frighten young children?such was the proven method of instruction,look to any fairy tale.
Dangerous or not,they were real wilderness,there where no roads,we would hike in the last three miles,and pitch camp in the famous bell tents,and cook from an open fire,and be taught survival skills,at a time when it was still allowed to place children in danger so that they could properly learn,Ahh,the good old days,there is a lot to say for them.

So it was with great anticipitation,and some misgiving,that we were setting out on this journey towards manhood,this step back into a more primitive time,a time where your wits were more important then your looks or hertitage,a time when all that was required was hard work to be accepted,and no one ever questioned your past,and the only difference between people was what time they ate breakfast,as there was a large debate,eat before the chores or after?In our home the answer was after,a hour or so in the fresh air and the barn,where the air was not so fresh,was a great stimulate to appetite.
As was be fitting such a great undertaking,all of our parents were there to see us off,it fact it was mine own adopted pair that were sitting in that shinny black truck,a truck that was to have a profound affect on my life,but that is another narrative.
I was taken back,I was in wonder and some what in awe,for unfolding around me,where events that not only had I never seen before,but had never even imagined could happen.Nothing in my eight long years could prepare me for the scene I was observing for the first time.
Grown men and women,many with actual tears in their eyes,were clutching at their sons,hugging them,and even KISSING them,and not just the mothers,but actual fathers,grown men as well,and from all corners I could hear unfamiliar phrases such as"I love you"Be careful,we love you""Good bye son,be careful"
This was something new,this seemed like a good idea,one that I was going to be very happy and proud to be a part of,surely it was only a few more moments before it was my turn to be granted such a grandiose send off.
I glance around,my eyes darting back and forth,my head darting from side to side,peering through the throng of people,searching out for my parents.
There they where!....no,that was not them,they where still as they had been,sitting in the truck,but wait...the door is opening!
"Hurry up and get on the bus,we have to go pick up feed"
Oh,feed,then thats okay Mom,thats okay Dad,as long as there is a good reason,off you go now,get the feed,I'll see you when I get back........
and I pray that I never have to.

To be ensure you never to miss an episode of the CONTINUING ADVENTURES please send a reply to hdforbes@yahoo.ca with the word READ in the subject header,your name and address will never be revealed,not even under torture!You may expect one,at the most two notifications per week,delivered clearly marked as such.
Don't forget,you can visit previous posts of mine with the links provided read what the critics are so excited about!
To Join the H.Douglas Forbes fan club,an Unoffical organization(created without the prior knowledge or approval of Mr.Forbes),and which as its own rules and guidelines which may at times be in contrast with official policy,go to: http://uk.groups.yahoo.com/group/adventureman which was founded by a Ms Anna from the UK who is presently in rehab after being inspired by the posts here.I am humbled and proud,but most of all,I am proud of you Anna,I KNOW you can do it.
I,a usually,reserve a special thanks to Meg,my guiding light and a true friend.
please,if you are leaving a comment,leave out the commercial,I will visit all links,but I WILL NEVER SIGN ON TO ANY PROMOTIONS,MLM's OR ANY OTHER DEAL YOU CAN THINK OF.I AM 100% INDEPENDENT and leave your email address!I am constantly being asked to give a critic,only I have no way to contact youI hope to see you again soon,and bring your friends!

2005-10-03T13:00:00.000-06:00

A LIFE OF ADVENTURE IS NOT ALWAYS A GOOD THING
A MAN'S ATTEMPT AT A LIFE AFTER ADDICTION'S I will tell you a tale of woe,a tale of desires run wild.of poverty,of diease,of death.of sorrrow,of love and romance,a tale with violence(PG 14)sex,drugs and rock and roll.A tale of loss,of fanatics gains,in other words,a tale about life.
Wednesday, June 15, 2005
HELLO,MY NAME IS DOUG,AND I AM A DRUG ADDICT AND ALCOHOLIC and I offer for your pleasure an article concerning my
TESTIMONY and my HEALTH
To life like to be real is one way to describe this picture of the ChurchKythonia in Hianaais Port,Isle of Crete and that describes the feeling I had when I opened my eyes one day a little over a year ago.
Somehow,even though I had experienced an almost total loss of short term memory,I some how knew that finally everything was okay.I can't begin to tell you what a sense of relief I was experiencing,I could not talk without extreme difficulty,every word was a if I were speaking for the very first time.Without even trying I knew that I could not walk,just lifting my head to look at the person who was talking to me was enough to physically exhaust me.A knew where I was,I knew what must have happened,even though I did not(and still do not)have any memory of the events that lead up to that moment.
Okay,lets back up a bit,just in case you are a first time reader and you have just entered on this page.
I'm a 49 year old drug addict,alcololic ex-con.I have been stabbed on eight different occasions,suffered two gunshot wounds.I have broken an approximate total of 30 different bones,some repeatedly over 10-15 different events.My left hip as been partially replaced and is held together with pins and screws.I suffer from Asthma and emepthasemia.I am fortunate,in that my best friend,PAIN is always with me,not the least of which is caused by Fibromalgia.I have in my travelings managed to contract Hepatitis C(at least I have the markers,antibodies showing up in my blood samples indicate that have been exposed,I suffer no symptoms,so to summarize,I am a one-eyed gimp!with a limp!oh yeah,almost forgot,my right ear drum was shattered so you can also say I'm a one-eyed-one ear gimp with a limp! lol no seriously LAUGH!!
I have spent almost seven years behind bars,and another twenty five years in Bars!!
I've been a forger,a thief(though always against the "nameless corporations")(as if that makes it okay,but I resisted stealing from individuals who I felt in just as much need as I)(I myself have been robbed so many times I lost track)a drug dealer and con man.
So I am waking up in the hospital,tubes running into and out of my body,breathing from an oxygen tube and I feel WONDERFUL,I really don't know how to describe it.EVERYTHING WAS GOING TO BE OKAY!!
My daughter who I had not seen for years was praying beside my bed.I first turned away in shame,I had glimpsed my arms,they were covered from wrist to elbow with hundreds of red inflamed "tracks"where I had been pumping morphine into my body I can't really tell you the exact conversation,in fact the next week was pretty touch and go,and I only remember highlights,such as swearing to my daughter that I would get clean,if she had not been there,I would absolutely positivity dead today.It was for her that I would try,but as I would very soon find out,it would be God that get the credit,for if I had not re- found our Lord I would not be here.
When my one and only son passed away at age of only 12 weeks,any faith I may have had was replaced by anger,if there was a God as the Bible spoke of Him,then he MURDERED MY SON!I was the sinner,why not take me?was I ,as I expected being punished?then if that was so,then I MURDERED MY SON!either way God was a Cruel and Vengeful Being that I wanted nothing to do with.
My reawakening to the Truth came suddenly,I have told you that I just had a wonderful feeling when I woke up on the hospital that everything was okay and I admit thoughts of God flashed in my mind,but I kept fighting Him,not letting him win over me,I was Master,not Him.
Weird things started occurrring,such as the person in the next bed to me having a Priest pray over him,nothing unusual in that,but the Priest was the same one who had ministered in my home town 35 years ago!Coincident right? of course it was.Then the next day a Chaplin shows up,telling me he had been sent by my daughter,nothing unusual there,besides from the fact that he was at one time a travelling minister who knew all my Childhood friends!Coincidence again,right?
Of course,except for the fact my daughters swear they did not send him! and none of my childhood friends remember him,even though he knew intimate details of their lives
Opiate withdrawal is a horrible thing,I will not go into it further.I kept asking to be released from hospital,even though I remained horribly weak and still needing oxygen,I was unable to eat,I could no longer even swallow the pills they were giving me,could not sip water(was getting everything by IV)
I wanted,I NEEDED a FIX!
After hanging up the phone(I had called a doctor at home trying to convince him I was okay to be released)and breaking into tears I shouted out FINE,YOU FUCKING CUNT, YOU WIN,I NEED YOU GOD!(please forgive language,but that is an exact quote)Sudden silence, the background noise from a busy hospital gone.Calm,pulse returns to normal,the readings from the monitors I'm hooked to all going into a regular rythme,I am thristy,I am STARVING!
drink deep from the water,I tear open a chocolate bar that was on my bedside end table.I gulp it down in two bites,I swing my feet over the side of the bed,and I WALK out to the nurses station and I tell them I AM GOING HOME and they can't stop me.
I phone my daughter and tell her I am being released(this is where she will find out about my little white lie!)so come pick me up.I am filled with love for her,my heart is glowing,my mind spinning.
Is it true?Did I just experience a miracle?There is no other word for it.By all rights I should have been dead in the first place,I have discovered since I first wrote about this,more on the discovery by police of my lifeless body laying on the floor of my basement hovel where I was (and am )living.
They had come with warrant in hand,a judge had just agreed to sign it after three days of considerations.There were three of them,and two argued against the third trying to resusitate me,nit from malious,but a sincere belief that I was dead .
Why did the judge decide at that moment?What drove that third officer?How did I go from helpless to walking in ONE SECOND?
Well,that is enough for today on this,I have left a lot unsaid,I still am not comfortable talking about my relationship with God,but I promise more to come.If addictions as had an effect on your life,I invite you to join my new support group,open to all http://ca.groups.yahoo.com/group/savedbymethadone/
I am extemely proud to annouce that we now have members from San Fransico to London,and all the way to Sinapore!
These include two Drug Consullors ,a nurse who works wth the METHODONE DRUG REHABILTION services,and members who have never been ADDICTS,but rely on Methodone for PAIN KILLERS,using addicts looking for guidance,wife,husbands,brothers and sisters of of adicts.
What I guess I'm trying to say is that the ADDICTS SUPPORT GROUP is working!

The comments from a "penpal",Meg,followed up by a letter,and in keeping with my daughters and others wishes,promoted me to regale you with more so,I invite you to read
the CONTINUING STORY of the ADVENTUREMAN!
http://adventureman.blogspot.com/
commencing August the 8th/2005 there will ba a new tale each and every week,until there is such an out cry for me t0 shut up I can no longer go on!! lol
I PROMISE TO WRITE ABOUT OTHER THINGS BESIDES DRUG ADDICTION and ALCOHOL DEPENDANCE!
IF YOU WISH TO NEVER TO MISS A STORY FROM THIS OLD DRUG ADDICT please send a reply to hdforbes@yahoo.ca with the word READ in the subject line,and you will be sent the URL to take you DIRECTLY to the story
At no time will your name and/or address be given to others
To read my Bio follow the links below,so until the next time.......................

the CONTINUING ADVENTURES

2005-10-03T01:00:00.000-06:00

Alas,I must say so long to a Trusted friend,a friend who turned out not to be trusted especially with my money!I am speaking of one of my sponsors,the one so many of you have written to say you got invaluable info from,GOOGLE!
In their infinite wisdom,Google is claiming that "unauthorized" cliking was taking place,(somebody out there was trying to help a little to much).For this implied but unproven allegation,they have confiscated ALL OF MY EARNINGS!!
I request that any and ALL OF YOU who have ever clicked on a Google ad while at one of my sites,to PLEASE email: adsense-support@google.com quoting client number #32875,and let them know how you benefited from my ads,and that your use of them was voluntary and not an effort to artificially inflate my earnings.
GOOGLE IS CLAIMING THAT THEY ARE RETURNING MY EARNINGS TO THE ADVERTISERS! I WANT PROOF! it is my contention that Google makes a habit of enticing small little Bloggers like me to join AdSense,and then,as soon as they begin to make some real earnings,they pull the plug,and keep all the money for themselves.There are thousands like me,to small to fight,so grabbing a couple hundred bucks from each of us is just good business,as there are new bloggers everyday joining.
This is the only course of action that I can see making any difference.
I would gladly forfeit the money,it was the targeted ads that I miss,ads that where designed to help those with adictions or mental health problems,such as the one that helped this lady,as shown in this letter,which will be my last words on the subject,it is up to you dear reader,EMAIL GOOGLE TODAY!

HERE ARE SOME MORE REVIEWS,AND THEN FINALLY SOME CONTENT!

Doug Forbes has lived a life that plays out like an episode of Law and Order. His writing, like his life, is exciting and vibrant, fraught with pain and drama. From beginning to end, it holds the reader’s attention. No stranger to the seamy underbelly of society he can tell you stories that will shock you. You will never find this man boring.
The Babbling Bloggery

Welcome to my world!As you can plainly see.it's a tiny little place,just hanging there in space(oh no,don't start rhyming already!)
I have been affectionately called Mr.Adventureman(at least I think it was affectionately, wasn't it Meg?)Who's Meg?later,right now we are talking about me!
My father always told me that adversity builds character,and that is why I am such a character!
ON SOME OF THESE PAGES YOU NEED TO SCROLL DOWN BELOW THE ADS TO REACH THE STORY,SCROLL DOWN SLOWLY,YOU MAY FIND SOMETHING YOU LIKE!
If you wish to skip the reviews and get right to my next story go here:
http://adventureman.blogspot.com/2005/09/lesson-learned.html
It's true I have lived a very varied life,from that as a very successful well off family man with a good job and a bright future,to that of a bum digging in garbage bins for food and if I found a refundable bottle,my day was off to a great start.
You will find this introduction at the beginning of each post,but every week or so,I will have a new tale to tell,all true(except for any confession of crimes,those of course are fiction!)
I owe the inspiration to this blog to Meg from the UK,a "penpal" I meet on line,here is some of what she said:
"hope you write back mr adventure man, you interest me"
" your autobiography could make a best seller,very interesting stuff, and said with a kind of humour too"
"Yes indeed, you have a great talent in writing, I love reading about people's lives"
"you should write a book, you have me transfixed. The way you write would keep readers glued to your words."
Here's some other comments made on previous works:
Sandee Rodgers said
"Definitely interesting reading.You should write for more pennies.Bless you in your perseverance"
mbp said...
"I am touched. If you could get this far, you can go further. All of us have our crosses to bear. That is life. We try to make the best of it, as we can. Good luck!"
Anonymous said...
"Quite an important story. Congratulations on conquering your "Little Foxes."
R.Smith(yeah right) said...
"WOW!and I thought i had an interesting life.Hang in there dude"
and finally my very best review of all,from my nineteen old daughter,who I had deserted over SIXTEEN years before:
"I would love to hear someday hear about all the in between then and now stuff.Anything you are comfortable telling me,I'm all ears.I am really proud of you Dad,and I'm happy that I get the chance to have you in my life."
Love your little girl Susan.
To be sure never to miss an episode of my CONTINUING ADVENTURES please send a reply to hdforbes@yahoo.ca with the word READ in the subject header,your name and address will never be revealed,not even under torture!
Don't forget,you can visit previous posts of mine with the links provided read what the critics are so excited about!
OKAY,I'M DONE BRAGGING! ON WITH THE STORY!!
http://adventureman.blogspot.com/2005/09/lesson-learned.html

To Join the H.Douglas Forbes fan club,an Unoffical organization(created without the prior knowledge or approval of Mr.Forbes),and which as its own rules and guidelines which may at times be in contrast with official policy,go to: ( see Anna,I kept my promise,now it's your turn QUIT DRINKING! you have my love and support girl)

http://uk.groups.yahoo.com/group/adventureman

please,if you are leaving a comment,leave out the commercial,I will visit all links,but I WILL NEVER SIGN ON TO ANY PROMOTIONS,MLM's OR ANY OTHER DEAL YOU CAN THINK OF.I AM 100% INDEPENDENT and leave your email address!I am constantly being asked to give a critic,only I have no way to contact you

CANCER,A TRIBUTE TO MY UNCLE

2005-09-13T06:16:00.000-06:00

THE CURSE OF CANCER
I WAS INFORMED SEPT 13 2005 THAT I HAVE A PROBLEM,ADENOMA WAS DISCOVER IN MY LAST CAT SCAN.
I AM NOW BOOKED FOR A MIR.FOUR YEARS AGO I HAD HODGKIN'S DISEASE A RARE FORM OF CANCER.TWO YEARS PRIOR TO THAT I DEFEATED MELANOMA A DEADLY FORM OF SKIN CANCER.
MY UNCLE LOST HIS LIFE TO CANCER.PLEASE,FIND OUT ALL YOU CAN.CANCER CAN BE BEATEN!!EARLY DIAGNOSIS IS VITAL!!I WOULD NEVER ASK YOU TO CLICK ON ADS JUST SO I MAKE A LITTLE MONEY.THAT IS WAY I HAVE PROVIDED SO MANY LINKS.THE ADS ABOVE THIS ARE PART OF MY AGREEMENT WITH GOOGLE & I EARN FROM THEM.THE ADS BELOW ARE PRESENTED AS A PUBLIC SERVICE.FEEL FREE TO VISIT AS MANY AS YOU WISH.I HAVE NO FINANCIAL ASSOCIATION TO ANY OF THE BELOWWHEN DONE HERE I HIGHLY RECOMMEND YOU CHECK OUT
http://watchdob.blogspot.com for further information,I have no financial ties to it as well.just a friend with more on the subject,we figured,why duplicate.
Finally,the word CANCER no longer hold the stigma it once did,but there is still a lot we do not know,and one of thr RAREST FORMS of CANCER MESOTHELIOMA remains a difficult one.My interest lays in the fact that I lost my Uncle Robert to this disease,and I would like to make you all aware of it,and to remind you,cancer research is always revealing new medicines and treatments to lengthen lifes,but your donations are what makes it all possible.Give to CANCER RESEARCH!http://tinyurl.com/7qvxa
If you require definitions of any of the terms below simply click on the word.To insure you return to this page use your "back "button located on your browser tool bar.

mesothelioma :
A rare neoplasm derived from the lining cells of the pleura and peritoneum and growing as a thick sheet composed of spindle cells or fibrous tissue covering the viscera.A rare form of carcinoma of the mesothelium lining lungs or abdomen or heart; usually associated with exposure to asbestos dust<oncology, tumour> Malignant tumour of the mesothelium, usually of lung, caused by exposure to asbestos fibres, particularly those of crocidolite, the fibres of which are thin and straight and penetrate to the deep layers of the lung.Because of their shape, the fibres puncture the macrophage phagosome and are released, leading to a chronic inflammatory state that is thought to contribute to development of the tumour

FURTHER READING AND INFORMATION SITES
What are the different types of mesothelioma?
What are the risk factors for mesothelioma?
What causes mesothelioma?
What are the signs and symptoms of mesothelioma?
How is mesothelioma diagnosed?
How is mesothelioma staged?
Patients, Family, & Friends
Learning about cancer,
treatment options,
treatment decision tools,
clinical trials,
RECENT LOSS?
coping.
Survivors
Cancer Survivors Network
support programs.
ALL IN LOVING MEMORY OF MY UNCLE ROBERT,
Your contributions to a young mans life are still being discovered,so that you will always live on.

A DAY AT THE BEACH(or how I killed my first man)

2005-09-11T13:00:00.001-06:00

Larry was to us,what the "Fonz" was to the Happy days crowd.He was the essence of cool,he had it all,the looks,the duck billed greased down hair,( a left over,this was in 72 after all)the black leather jacket.He had the swagger in his walk,the confidence in his bearing.His eyes where as black as coal,and could bore right through you,and you knew,without anyone telling you,that this man was dangerous and not to be fooled with.

In other words,he was everything I want to be be!I was two years younger,but we had just started to be what one would call "secret friends.In other words,he was a friend to me as long as no one was around!
In public I was once again relegated to role of annoying pest,he was much to cool to talk to some kid.
This was a role that I understood,and accepted with out question.I knew my place,and was happy to be given a role to play at all.Most of the kids he was to cool even to tell them to fuck off,they were unworthy of his contempt.I at least could count on a look of annoyance from him,and to my immediate peers,this raised my status.I had been noticed!

Our unlikely friendship started in of all places,the worst (in the eyes of parents) of all the places for kids to hang out at,the Pool Hall.
At the time our Pool Hall was run by an elderly man(in our youthful eyes,now I would place him at around 60) who we all called OldManJake.
OldManJake perpetuated his image by regaling us with tales of his "fourty years on the railroad"and "thirty years in the army" and twenty years in the mines"in other words,he HAD to be old!,alas,once again,I regress.
I had tagged along (completely unwanted!) with my older brother on a trip into town,and since it was a week night,I was breaking more then one rule.
The pool hall had a nine pm curfew for those of us under the age of sixteen,and as the clock(which was always seven minutes fast,so we could get back to school in time at noon hour) was now reading quarter past the nineth hour,I was being told,in a very gruff manner,that it was time for me to go.I had long since spent my last nickel in the only pin ball machine in town(yes,I said NICKEL! as in .05 cents)
My wayward brother had agreed to get me home by nine,but there was no sign of him,in fact it would be hours before he was seen again.I do not fault him,he was "getting some!"
So I was breaking another rule as well.With no sign of my brother,I was facing a lonely vigil on the doorstep,and as it was early spring,it was already past sunset,and to make matters worse,the cool night air was being baptized with a steady drizzle.None of this of course mattered to OldManJake,it was time to go.
The only other patron left in the hall at that hour was,you guessed correctly,Larry,and as a lad near seventeen years old,he was exept from the curfew.
I was being dragged by the ear towards the door by OldManJake,when in that guite but always heard voice,Larry spoke up and said"leave the Kid alone,he's with me"Shoot me,stab me,run over me with a truck,I was so happy I could have died.
One thing led to another,and we spent to next hour sitting side by side in the two barber chairs at the front of the Hall( I forgot to mention,it was a Pool hall/barbershop/and bowling alley with one lane,were a kid could pick up some pretty good money setting the pins by hand,nickel a game)
I think he was surprised to find my level of maturity and intelligence,since both was something I hid from others,and I was surprised to find how insecure and lacking in confidence he truly was,and an unusual bond was formed between us.He taught me to be a pool hustler ,and I taught him how to play chess,hidden away in OldManJake private living quarters.
Over the next three months,Tuesday and Thursday were to become very special days to me,as those where the days I got to set pins,and after the bowling crowd cleared out,it would be Larry and me,each with something the other needed.What it was he got from me,I was never clear on,I think perhaps a feeling of family,as his was a trouble home life.His father was dead,his Mother re-married,his step father and him just did not get along,and I believe it was in physical confrontations with his step father that gave him his rep as a tough fucker.He was the most popular kid in school,but I really believe,I was his only friend.
I never saw him talking with other kids at school,except of course for the girls,and it waas never him who made the first move,none the less,there was a steady stream of girls wearing his jacket.
This was my fourteenth year as a seeker of wisdom,and in many ways it was the best times I ever had, that year of my life,but as in The Tale of Two Cities,it was also the worst of times.
Of Larry's athletic abilities,there was,as with the Fonz,no doubt,he was the best at what ever you named.Only thing was,if asked,no one would ever be able to say that they had actually seen him participate in any sport.It was just assumed.
The days fall to weeks,the weeks to months,school is out,now it's just back.Larry and I only had a few times together once summer began,due mostly to my absence.
I had been given an independence from rules and parental instructions that summer,that I had never enjoyed before.I had spent the summer in exploration, both of the wilderness and in my developing manhood.I grew three inches that summer,and packed on twenty five pounds of muscles.I had spent three weeks in swimming lessons,where I had gone from never had a lesson to ceritfied life-guard,or at least I would have been if I was the required age,at fourteen I was not yet old enough.
One of the people who thought I was old enough,was the twenty seven year old instructor,who had been a member of Canada's Olympic FEMALE Swim Team,and that is another story for another time(or not!)
I had always been,since the age of eight,involved with either the Cub scouts of Boy Scouts(Always Perpared!)( actuall question on a LSAT"what was Lord Baden powells name"(if I have to explain LSAT...look it up!)(I passed by the way,thats another story!)and it was with that fine organisation that I found myself employed by that summer,first as an assistant for the first two one week trips,and then as a full fledged guide the next three one week trips,followed by an intense and gruelling ten day survial trip with guides only.I am talking about wilderness canoeing of course.Saskathchewan,the Province I live in,is known the world over as the worlds bread basket,as we grow more food for the hungry world then any other place on earth,so it is a surprise to many that only one third of our land is in praire,and that we have some of the most beautiful untouched wilderness of any where.The Churchill River System is world renowned as a place for wildereness exploration.The early fur trade saw the first white man to the area oveer 400 years ago,farming did not settle the land till one hundred years ago.So,it was hundreds of paddled miles,and hours of swimming,that helped pack those pounds on me.
It is with this aquatic background I returned to school with,and with a new cocky attitude.After all,I was no longer a virgin to neither the ways or LAYS of the land!
A tradition calls for a school dance the first week end when classes resume in Sept,followed by a trip to the lake(thrity miles,but that is nothing to a prairie farm boy with Daddy'd pick up(truck)
While I of course had no pick up truck,or any vehicle for that matter,I was of course there,but it was my first time at this event,and I was detrimined to make the best of it.I was not immune to the stares I was getting,some where out right hostile,others less aggresive and some,very approving.I don't know if it was my new physical appereance(I was in bathing suit of course,despite the cooling air,we were around a bonfire,and many a boy had his shirt off) that was drawing the attention my way,or if it was blusterous manner.I was being anything but subtle,not like Larry,who sat at the darkest part of the circle,with a girl on each side of him of course.
I wanted the girls to pay attention to me!I had gotten kind of used to having admiring females around me.How could I compete,how could I get everybody to look at me?Larry wasn't the only guy there I wanted to out do,but I knew that if I could just somehow get people to compare me to Larry,my newly found libido could get a work out.In other words,I thought if I could show up Larry(all in good fun of course) I would get laid!
It took a lot of doing,and a lot of politicing,to get others to agree that a swimming race was just what the party needed.It then took a direct "what,are you scared?" to get Larry into the water with the rest of us,but finally I had my race,to the out of bounds barrells and back to the beach,a trip of roughly 500 yards,nothing to me,who had just two days earlier swam the width of the lake at it's narrow point,an estimated six miles.
And that my dear folks,is how I killed my first man.

What,you thought this could end any other way?These are true stories my friends,and the truth SUCKS sometimes,I have forgiven myself for this death,but I will always know that I killed the Fonz.Forgive me Larry.
If you have pay per ads on your site,you may want to be listed at
THE WORLD OF ADVERTISING where you the site owners vote for the FEATURED SITE OF THE WEEK.
send your URL to hdforbes@yahoo.ca be sure to put LIST in the subject header.
Dedicated once again to Anna,founder of my

BAD THINGS HAPPEN FOR GOOD REASONS

2005-09-11T13:00:00.000-06:00

NEW CANCER CURE FOUND!

DOCTORS FRANTICALLY LOOKING FOR MY HEART!!
(old photo,it's been located now!)

I must admit that I struggled with this story,not that I found it a hard thing to write about,but as to whether or not it was suitable for the CONTINUING ADVENTURES or if it should be placed at it's spin off THE VIEW FROM OUTSIDE

THE VIEW FROM OUTSIDE seems to have taken a different direction,the one is was destined to be,a forum for advocacy rather then a piece for entertainment,and as my vision for the CONTINUING ADVENTURES is one of learning through life lessons,told in an entertaining form,the choice was made.

BAD THINGS HAPPEN FOR GOOD REASONS or GOOD THINGS HAPPEN TO BAD PEOPLE!
Huh?Don't I have that backwards or mixed up somehow?
When I look back on my life now,through an experienced and SOBER eye,I realize that something,or somebody,as been saving my life on a regular basis.only I was always under the assumption that I was just plain old unlucky.
My life as been one disaster after another,yet except for the times when there was a death involved,I have always seemed to come out of it ahead somehow.
House burns down?lose everything you own?no insurance?
Receive a gift of $1200.00 from co-workers and then stumble on a real estate deal that will make you $40,000.
Get fired from your job?A total stranger that you meet in a bar gives you a better job.and on and on it always seemed to go.
We are never asked to carry what we can not lift.I certainly haven't always felt that way,thats for sure.Twice in my life time I have asked to die,begged for it.The ONLY reason I never committed suicide at those times was the fact that I know more then most,that death does not hurt anyone but the living.In other words,my death would have hurt the ones who loved me,and I could not ask them to go through what I was going through at the time.

Did I ever tell you about the time I was diagnosed with Hodgkin's Disease?To the uniformed amongst you,Hodgkins is a rare form of lymphatic cancer.
It can appear almost anywhere in the body,and unfortunately can be symptoms free until it as spread through out all your lymph nodes and can then only be treated with mutative surgery( you guessed right guys!) and a regime of massive amounts of radiation and Kemo Therapy.The survival rate at this stage is very low.
There I was,minding my own business(which was cocaine distributing) entertaining a guest who by coincidence was nine months with child( alas,not mine)I mention her only as it is necessary for me to explain why in the Hell would I allow to happen what I am about to reveal.
Trafficking in drugs is a risky business,and not all the risks come from law enforcement agencies.
One of the problems that comes from being a criminal,is the people you know! honour among thieves?In my case YES,I am old school,but there is always exceptions to everything,and when you through in the mind altering drugs,anything can and usually does happen.
Cocaine affects different people in different ways,and the standing joke of coke heads is that they are a paranoid bunch of people.I think that is because cocaine is an amplifier of your subconscience,have a guilty conscience,your paraniod,feel great about your self,you feel invinceable.That is how coke effected me,instead of hiding behind locked doors cowering in a closet,I would be more likely to leave my door wide open.
ON YOUR KNEES BITCH!
MOVE AND I WILL CUT HER THROAT!
Those words sure brought me down from my high!I had at the time a 9 mil only a few feet from my hand,and if it was not for the fact that they(3) had Betty(names have been changed to protect the guilty)kneeing on the floor(she had answered the door)her hands clasped protectively over her unborn child,the outcome would have been much different.
So,I went against every fibre of my being,and I up it.Showed them my stash,released my cash( HEH,I can hear a rap song here,"Gave my STASH,releashed my CASH")
I should have known it wasn't over yet!No,they had me,and now they wanted to play,to convince themselves that they were MEN,because they had pulled one over the OLD MAN.
I will spare you the details of the humiliations they infected on me,after all,pain don't hurt.ThAt last thing they did(I had to get this from Betty) was the biggest of the bunch had knock me out by ramming the butt end of a shotgun(MU GUN!)behind my head,in the back of the neck.
The next few hours are kind of fussy,but I remember twice being lead back to my cot in the ER as I was trying to get to maternity,I was there holding Betty's hand as she gave birth to a beautiful son,only to collapse again and wake up yet once again in the ECU.
It seems that I had received a fairly serious concussion and needed medication to reduce swelling around the brain stem.The X-rays they took at that time also revealed,you guessed it,a growth around a lymph node needed a biopsy.
The rest they say is history.Oh,I still went through Hell,lost all my hair etc, etc,(and the damn stuff just won't grow back in places!) A new life was brought into the world that night,a innocent babe,but a another life was saved,one not quite so innoncent.That child today is in foster care,his mother another causality of the drug wars,and while I am not in foster care,who CARES?(yes,that's humor!)
What brought those thieves to me that night in particular,at my least able to resist point,and what guiding hand drove that shotgun to the back of my head in just that spot?.
If this was an isolated case,I would just mark it up to a happy set of consequences,however it was just one of a string dating back over thirty years.There has been,and I pray still is,a Guardian Angel if you will,making me pay for my sins,but always showing me the door way out(of my problems)I have turned away from that open door,fearful to step through,step through to success and happiness,because for me,that is the unknown,and we fear what we do not understand.Enough with the philosophy,back to our main feature.

Yep,there seems no doubt about it,as horrible as it may seem,as unsettleing as it may sound,there is no doubt in my mind at all:
CRIME CURES CANCER!! or how:

MY LIFE WAS SAVED BECAUSE I WAS A DRUG DEALER! or,here's another headline for you to consider:
NEW DIAGNOSTIC TOOL DISCOVERED!
12 GAUGE SHOTGUNS IN THE ER?
You got to love my life right? don't you wish you had stories like these?
And that concludes another chapter of the CONTINUING ADVENTURES your comments are appreciated,your commercials are not!I will NEVER sign on to your MLM's or any other promotions,I already have the best product there is to promote,ME!
If you have Google ads on your web site you may want a listing here:
http://mygoogleads.blogspot.com/
email hdforbes@yahoo.ca to arrange for me to inspect and approve your site.Please put LIST in the subject header.
If you wish to never miss an episode of this publication reply with READ in the subject line,or reply with LIST&READ!
And to keep my promise to sillysara72 of the UK( what is it with you UK ladies?I LOVE it,what ever it is!) GAYS! LESBIANS! PLAN YOUR DREAM VACATION!:
http://travelwithgoogle.blogspot.com/2005/03/alternative-life-styleyou-can-stiill.html
a sub page of http://travelwithgoogle.blogspot.com

WHAT MY READERS HAVE SAID

2005-09-11T08:53:00.000-06:00

Like all writers,I often use snippets of fans comments in my promotional efforts.
Not having an agent,either literary or publicity or for that matter,even a publisher,it falls to me to spread the word.
One thing that every ad copy writer knows,and I have learnt,is that your ads need to be short,snappy and point to ,or identify the product as quickly as possible.
That as meant I must pick and chose what comments I could included very carefully,and often had to reject outright complete letters,as ther was just no fair way to edit them.They were complete in their entirety,and could not be reduced to a snippet for commercial use.
I have come to believe that some of my "fans" should be the writers,and it is I who should their fans!
Since I feel their words should be heard,and because I will grasp at any straw to promote myself(I truley am shamless!) and send out notification of new a entry(when ever I do,readership is up that day,which equates to more ad revenue,on a good day it is as high as $5.00) I have decided to pick from the best of the comments I have received,not here,but by email,and publish them in their entireity,on this,a new page.
I will add to it as your words arrive,I may even include some of the negative remarks as well(if I ever receive any!)
So,without further acclamations,I bring you,first off,the words of a fellow Canadian:
Doug Forbes has lived a life that plays out like an episode of Law and Order. His writing, like his life, is exciting and vibrant, fraught with pain and drama. From beginning to end, it holds the reader's attention. No stranger to the seamy underbelly of society he can tell you stories that will shock you. You will never find this man boring.
The Babbling Bloggery

This one from France is simply put the ...
I had never read a blog before so I didn’t know what to expect at all. From what I had heard this was a kind of diary kept by people who had lots of time on their hands and just replaced the good old notebook with a computer screen. Nothing very serious I thought. But as I am also starting to use my computer as something else than a simple type-writer, I felt I would read this. The title had a nice ring to it, the continuing adventures : adventures sounded exciting, something different from the humdrum routine I hoped ; and they were continuing, which meant there would be some more. So I read. And got caught in it . Why ? Well, of course the adventures are not ordinary, but being an avid reader from an early age, I have read lots of amazing stories, fictional or not. So this is not the only reason why I want to read some more.
Of course, I want to know what happened next, we all do, we all like being told stories, this is the child inside wanting new stories all the time, what’s going to happen next ? Please, go on, tell us more. But what struck me is the ability to hold back, in order to convey what is most important, the emotion, the potent feeling you may experience at some moments in your life, and that you want to express somehow, because it is what makes us human. There is also that capacity to look back on a difficult past and write about it. It gives writing its full meaning, which to me is such an incredible way of communicating deeply with other human beings.
So these continuing adventures are an incredible gift that ....

Then there are the words of Sherry,these really grabbed at me,and encouraged me to go on at a time i was thinking of packing it in.I mean who the Hell do I think I am?Why would anyone want to hear from me?

Hello there is not many men i will write to because of my bf but you know something tells me that i need to continue to be for friend and not for your sake but for my own. I feel that i just may learn something and i can learn something to be a better person then it has been well worth it.
i some how can relate to you and I am not really sure as to why it is. Maybe it is because you are not judgemental and you can see people for whom they are. Then again i alway got along with men much better than women any how. How can you go so deep and write it on paper or in our case on the internet? You are one hell of man to put your heart out there for every one to read some don't understand and do they write you so much hate mail for being who you once were? there are so many question but not enough time for me tonight to ask. I would like to read more and more about you. The way you write reminds of james patterson i think that is whom i have read he wrote the beach house and blind mice he writes short chapter and the next thing you are half near done reading the book. You keep us wanting more.
Have you thought of trying to get something together you can make a ton of money and you can help others just like you with that money and live with any headache.
well my friend i really need to go to bed it is almost 12 am and i have to wake in 5 hours to go to work at good ole McDonald's i hope to hear from you soon. I would like it if you can e mail me at XXXXXXXX for that is where i don't a lot of mail and i would love nothing more to hear from you again.

Sherry Martin

This one arrived the day after Google pulled their ads on me,which makes their lose all the more painful,as well as proveing how wrong they here:

Some call it serendipity. Some call it synchronicity. Some call it coincidence. I call it my guardian angel that bought me to the site of H. Douglas Forbes. My oldest son, age 24, has added joy, pain and a great many tears to our lives over the years. He could be a wonderful person, but he would go on bouts of violent and destructive behavior that seemed to come out of nowhere. As parents, we tried parenting classes, tough love (we had him arrested 3 times) and counseling. The psychologist told us he couldn’t help because my son refused to admit there was anything wrong. His violence was always followed by remorse. He would call himself useless and a loser. He would promise to change but the cycle would soon repeat itself. He would keep getting fired from jobs because he would fly off the handle at somebody and no one was prepared to put up with this kind of behavior.

Then I ran across Mr. Forbes’ site. I clicked a link to a rehab center because binge drinking was another of my son’s problems and in the index of that page a word caught my eye. The word was bi-polar. As I read that page it occurred to me that they may as well have my son’s name engraved into the site. We now have a word for my son’s problems. I showed the site to him and he has made a doctor’s appointment. For the first time in many years I feel hopeful. There is an honest chance for my son to have a normal life and I feel a tremendous amount of gratitude to Mr. Forbes. If he had not gone through the experiences that he writes about, and if he had not the courage to tell others about them, I would not have found an answer to our prayers.
The very latest comment to arrive ,by the wise Meg,whose inspiration was behind all of this:

With every new blog, your writing improves immensely. You are adding such emotion in every word, you are becoming a very very good writer. Thankyou again Doug for sharing your experiences with the world. xXx

Okay,that is all I'll try and squeeze in for now.There are,simply put,to many to print,but I wanted to share these,as they all came at a time I was feeling blue for what ever reason it was at the time.

I dedicate this page to Anna,founder of the
H.Douglas Forbes Readers Fan Club may she always find the strrength she needs.

I invite further comments,but please,no commercials! I will never sign on to your programs,worthy as they may be,you see,I already have a full time promotion to keep me occupied,the promotion of the best product I could find. ME!
For any who have not yet discovered it,I invite you to
THE VIEW FROM OUTSIDE a more serious effort of mine to bring to light issues of the justice system.
I ask you,before you out right dismiss me as a charrleton and scammer,( jokes people,jokes) to consider my efforts to be of use to any and all victims of addictions through my work with SAVEDBYMETHADONE a support group open to all,do not let the name stop you from being involved. And so,kind reader,if any of you have made this far,I bid you good day until we 'meet" again!

A HOT'S SUMMERS NIGHT

2005-09-09T20:29:00.000-06:00

THE STORY OF MY EYE.placed here by request,plus an attempt to bring a better class of ads!
When you have supported me enough,this is where I will move to,sunny Mediterranean Isle o' Crete,my dream place.

I value my life and my reputation so for those reasons,the names have been changed to protect the guilty!

The humidity was hanging in the low nineties,beaten only by the temperature,however there was a hotter place,the mood on the street.
For weeks all the papers had talked about was the "hooker" wars,and how we were fast becoming the murder capitol of the country,a title I 'm proud to say we hold to this day!(one yesterday,five houses down 17 years old,gone,stabbed).
I was in the middle of it all,as my place of employment,a bar in the middle of the hood, strollstreet,hooker walk.was considered a "neutral"country,where the girls could come for a rest,and the pimps would share a table and negotiate.
It was when negotiations broke down that I feared the most,since I was playing my role to the hilt,claiming membership in three sides at once.
Then there was my natural instincts to protect the ladies,and I don't give a rats ass what you do for a living,every women was a lady in my eyes(yeah,I had two eyes that night)
As if things weren't tense enough,just a few days before the Bloody Queen of England announced to the world,that she would be gracing our poor city in two weeks,and where would she be staying?
No,not my hotel,but the placecol Bess,built at the turn of the century(the 1900's for you youngsters)in the style that only Rail-Road money could afford,with suites that would,well,please a Queen.
The problem lays in the location of the Bess,well not officially on the stroll,you could not reach it with out crossing"hooker land"and the Town fathers in all their wisdom,had decreed that they would erase fourty years of racism and poverty,and the Queen would see none of this.Streets were being closed,store fronts renewed, flowers being planted where only hypodermic needles lay before.
This caused a Police presence that none of us were used to.I had even placed my pharmaceutical distributing concerns on hold(drug dealing for you innocents)
The girls were being rounded up in stings a a rate never seen before,only to be released the next day with a new determination to make up for lost times,and there was not then(or now) a shortness of willing customers.
What this new policy did,was not to curtail the trade,but it did drive it to new locations,and my bar lost it's neutral standing very quickly,as indoor locations were highly desirable compared to the street corner that now saw a cop on it where none where before.
Thus the stage was set for that evening Tuesday June 19th, 1989
Have I mentioned that I drank in those days?and that Tuesdays were my night off?
I was living in the hotel,I received a room as part of my high wages($6.00 hr)
so it was only natural that I would be found in the hotel,leaning against the bar,flirting with gorgeous Linda the bartender.
I was on about my 15th double of 80 proof rye and Coke,when Smelly,the waitress came up a said"you have to get down there,they're going to kill Ursala!
The "down there" was a hidden little alcove off the front entrance,where one went to deal dope,and the "they"turned out to be three pimps with 5-6 of their girls,and Ursala was alone,except for that 8" blade in her hand.
The secret to being a good Bouncer(and I was the BEST!)was not your ability to fight(though that was a big asset)but your communication skills.
Ninety nine times out of a hundred I would have handled that situation with a little street humour,a well placed compliment,and a warning that the heat was coming( a friendly warning,after all,I was"one of them"but tonite was different,my "steady" lady was stepping out on me,the weather was shitty,and I was PRIMED!
It was a close thing,two of the three guys were laying unconscious on the floor,and i was in the middle of a swing kick when it happened.I never fell,I never even "had my bell rung"(so I thought) but suddenly I found my self thinking,this isn't fair,I need a blade,and I was in the process of walking back to the bar to grab my shank,when suddenly I hear screams form the female staff,YOUR EYE!,DOUG!,YOUR EYE!
The blade had missed the eye actually,but it sank in far enough into the optical bone cavity,that it popped the eye out and was laying half way down my cheek,and that is why until this day,I blame the QUEEN OF BLOODY ENGLAND for the lose of half my sight!
I have had three operations on my eye attempting to re-attach the retina,all failed,it's now a dead lump,except it still wants to see,and the pupil if fully dilated in an attempt to claim back it's function,leaving me un-able to stand ANY light on it at all,thus my new aka PATCH!

That's all for now folks,hoped you enjoyed my little tale,and to insure you see next weeks new tale send a note to hdforbes@yahoo.ca with READ in the subject line

THE OFFICIAL BIO OF A DRUG ADDICT

2005-09-04T13:00:00.000-06:00

.

A MAN'S ATTEMPT AT A LIFE AFTER ADDICTIOINS
I will tell you a tale of woe,a tale of desires run wild.of poverty,of diease,of death.of sorrrow,of love and romance,a tale with violence(PG 14)SEX!,DRUGS!&ROCK n'ROLL! .A tale of loss,of fanatics gains,in other words,a tale about life.

THE OFFICIAL BIO OF A DRUG ADDICT
Official, for eyes only.
If you are not an authorized reader you are subject to penalties under laws.If you are reading this without permission,report for execution.Born to parents unknown on April the fourth in the c.e.1956 in Regina Saskatchewan Canada he was placed for adoption and was soon adopted by loving Parents John&Sarah Forbes of Semans Saskatchewan,a farming community approximately eighty miles to the north of the Provincial Capitol Regina.
He completed all education offered to him at the Margret McClumb High School in the aforementioned Semans.He Graduated in 1974 and promptly married his High School sweet heart Corrine Murney.After residing and working in Regina for eighteen months he moved his young family(which by this time included a beautiful daughter Terri Dawn)to the logging community of Prince George British Columbia where he was gainfully employed at the Clear Lake Sawmills until his return to Saskatchewan in 1980,at which time he took employment in various construction endeavors with an eye to taking over the family farm, which he did so in 1983,which he promptly set out to expand and improve, ending in utter failure and bankruptcy in 1987.
Desperate to support his family which had grown with the addition of beautiful daughter Susan Ashley in 1986,he took employment as a sales Manager with Electrolux Canada which he preformed with outstanding success winning several Outstanding Sales and Recruitment Rewards,working with distinction and valour,he was named Manager of the Year for 1987,a year which also saw the birth of his one and only Son, David John, who passed away in his sleep at the horribly young age of twelve weeks, suffering from SID syndrome.
He was dismissed from his position some six weeks later, having fallen under the spell of Alcoholism and self destructive behavior.His actions over the next almost two decades can only be called erratic,in and out of relationships,another "marriage that eneded by the death of his true love,years in PRISON and in and out of ORGANIZED CRIME,and finally to out of control DRUG USE,leading to his death in July of 2004.
This should end our narrative,but as the fates would have it,just moments before he lost consciousness he had placed a 911 call and help arrived in time to revive him.He spent the next few weeks in hospital,and it was there that he found meaning and direction again,first due to the reappearance of a relationship with his oldest daughter he had not seen in years,his prayers and those of his family sustained him,today he is a well adjusted person,and while his ordeals left him physically disalbed,his spirit is strong,he’s faith restored.Unable to gain a livable wage with his physical skills no longer,and his determination not to hurt others or run afoul of law enforcement,he turned his attention to the market,and this is where you find ME now!
However I was forced int0 a DRUG REHABILITATION PROGRAM!!With out the use of methadone for my drug problem,which was mainly morphine addiction,brought on in part because of my increasing need for painkillers,I cannot function.I suffer chronic pain and since methadone was first developed by the German Army for pain relive without intoxicating side affects it was the perfect answer for my drug -rehab,which is why I called my support group "savedbymethadone" http://ca.groups.yahoo.com/group/savedbymethadone JOIN TODAY!
I have much more to say of course and I invite you all to view what I call
the CONTINUING STORY of theADVENTUREMAN!
where you will find a new story of my life every week!(commencing August the 8th/2005)
http://adventureman.blogspot.com/
But before I was able to do any of this I had to come to terms with my health,my disabilities,and most of all,with Our Lord-if you are interested in that kind of thing,I give a little testimony and talk of my return from the dead http://tinyurl.com/exrur

MEMORY

2005-08-03T01:00:00.000-06:00

ONCE AGAIN STORM CLOUDS FILL MY MIND.MEMORY:
The mental faculty of retaining and recalling past experience.
The act or an instance of remembering; recollection: spent the afternoon lost in memory.
All that a person can remember: It hasn't happened in my memory.
Something remembered: pleasant childhood memories.
Thus sayeth dictionary.com,my second newest best friend.
My newest best friend Meg,as asked me to tell of my earliest memories,and at first I thought,heh,no problem.I have a perfectly clear memory of an incidence concerning the relationship between a thundershower,a teddy bear,a broken window,and a scar.
There have been endless studies done on memory,and more and more,memory as been discovered to be often a mix of truth,perceived truth and imagination,in other words,we have "memories" of events,not as they actually happened,but as we wished they happened.
More and more eye-witness accounts are being discredited in the court rooms of the world every day.
Take seven people(FBI statistic),have them witness an event and there will be on average seven different interruptions and only one will be deemed accurate enough to be used at trial.Thus the deep and new reliance on forensic evidence over eye-witness.
In next few weeks I will be revealing in my new creation,THE VIEW FROM OUTSIDE http://anexconspeaks.blogspot.com/ a segment investigating several false convictions that were based on false eye-witness accounts,but yet the witnesses where not lying,to their mind they where telling the truth,it was just that their memories were false.
I, as usual regress,we were talking about my answer to Meg:

Dear Meg:
Thanks for the letter dear,as usual you inspire me,who knows what I would be doing if you had not come onto my life when and how you did.I think it would be very unlikely that I would be writting like I do in my Blog,instead I would prabably still trying to attract people to a web site through offering to teach them one thing or another.It is much nicer to have something like the CONTINUING ADVENTURES! where I can hopefully at least entertain a few people instead of just manipulating them to click on ad at some site offering no real substance.
My first memory,okay,I have to set the picture in your mind.
I grew up on a farm,I am sure I told you that before,and what is a farm,without a farm house.Now farm houses in those times and places where often very different from their counter parts in the towns and cities,and ours was to hold true to the rural form.
One did not just enter the home into a kitchen or living room,no we all had "porches"a room where you could remove your manure filled boots and hang your dirty coveralls etc.
In the more modern ones you would find a sink where one could clean up before entering the house.We were not modern( not at the time of this memory) and our Porch consisted of nothing but an unheated 10x10 foot room with hooks on two wall,and the cream separator set against the furthest,or cleanest wall.
The outside door of our porch had for a window in the door,either a glass window that locked into place by a few flaps,or this could be removed and replaced with a screen window,thus allowing some badly needed clean air to circulate.
It was the first hot day of the spring,and for some reason my Father ( adopted,I point out adopted,because I was always introduced as "our second adopted boy"I think they thought people would think they were some kind of wonderful couple to have given a home to an unwanted child,DAMN,I regress!) was only that day replacing the glass door window with the screen.
I followed my Daddy as much as possible( so I am told) always cluthcing a ragged old Teddy bear that had been handed down by an older cousin.Yep,poor Teddy Bear,I can still see him now,he was the Panda bear type,and prophetically had only one eye ( as I do now) and was hanging on by his last threads.Ragged as he was,he was all I had,and I loved him,of that memory,I have no doubt.
The glass window as been removed,the screen is in it's place.A fresh and welcome breeze is flowing through the house,helping to remove some of the odors that had accumulated through out the winter months.
In fact the breeze was now beginning to become a gale,the shy is darkening rapidly,the temperature dropping dramatically. Only those people who have lived through a violent prairie thunderstorm can relate.It is conditions like this that often precluded hail and tornadoes( that's another early memory story,surviving the tornado of 63)
Damn it Meg! tell me to get on with it!
Me,Teddy Bear, Father,screen window,glass window.Mother screaming "Johnnie! get that window changed,I just washed the porch floor,and the rain will be blown through.
In my excitement at "helping my Daddy" I run to follow him,one hand securely on my teddy bear.
Dad is taking the screen window off,the rain is pounding down outside,and sure enough,some of it is being blown on to the porch floor.The window is now an empty hole,neither screen nor glass was impeding me from showing my Teddy the weather outside.I am standing,holding teddy in both out strechted arms,letting him have a bath in the rain water coming down.
An angry man,(not my daddy,my daddy would not have done this right?) tears the bear from my hands,saying"You want to wreck your fucking bear?FINE! and teddy is ripped to pieces.I am spun around and violently thrown against the wall,and that may have been the end of the story,except for the glass window which was leaning against the wall I landed on.
And that,for what ever reason is my earliest memory,and I hope it gives you some of the insight you are seeking.
Oh,yeah,I started of by saying how unreliable early memory can be,I also started off by comparing a thunderstorm,a teddy bear and a broken window,and a scar.
It is the scar that lends credence to this memory,both the six inch scar on my ass where it was cut by the broken window( talk about blood!),and by the scar on my heart for the lose of my teddy bear!
Well I think I have bored you enough for today,can't wait for you to inspire me again.Thank you Meg,for all you've done.When are you going to leave that husband of yours and be mine! HA.HA!

PLEASE LIMIT YOUR COMMENTS TO THIS STORY OR OTHERS.I WILL NEVER SIGN ON WITH YOUR MLM"s OR ANY OTHER PROGRAM.
If you hav a web site with ads,I would love to visit and look over yours to compare to mine,email me your URL's to hdforbes@yahoo.ca and put PLEASE VISIT in the subject line.
PLEASE REMEMBER AS WELL,MY SPONSORS DESERVE YOUR ATTENTION! till we meet again.......................

Death Penalty Yay or Nay

2004-08-24T17:03:00.000-06:00

LIKE THE FIREBIRD,THIS FEATURES AS FLOWN AWAY!!

AFTER MUCH SOUL SEARCHING AND CONSULTING WITH OTHERS I HAVE DEEMED THIS TOPIC TO INTENSE FOR THIS SERIES.

A SOCIAL RE-AWAKENING IN MY SELF AS MADE IT NESECCARY FOR A NEW SITE TO BE BORN!!

BE ONE OF THE FIRST TO VISIT:

THE VIEW FROM OUTSIDE

http://anexconspeaks.blogspot.com/

Back by popular demand-more on Lisa

1996-08-28T18:19:00.000-06:00

The storm clouds are closing around my heart again,but I am told that the tale I must end,of the ball game, I can not see why you don't know what happened,it plain to me!

When we last left our hero,he was fast approaching second base,but I can tell you,his mind was not on getting to home plate but to reaching at least third base,not of the ball field,but WITH the second baseman!

She was the most beautiful women I had ever seen,and the fact that she was still so desirable at her age only added to the appreciation I felt.The crowd was as I had said,screaming at me to RUN! so that I might bring the game to extra innings.Run! was the sound that my mind heard,but my heart heard STOP!

She later told me that she had known before the game had even started that it would end that way,for that is how it ended,sorry to disappoint anyone,but when I reached second base that day,I knew that it was where I was meant to be.

I have just sat here staring at the screen,with the tears pouring down my face for a good fifteen minutes and I can't stop,FUCK!! it not fair,its not fair its not fairrrrrrrr

It is now a good five hours later,by the clock on the wall I have gone past my self imposed dead line of midnight,my promise to have a new episode ready each Monday at 12:01 am.

I imagine a lot of you will read my little outbrust and think that I am just using it to gain an emotional responce from you, the reader.I can only give you my assurances that every word I print here is the absolute truth,if I say I was crying,I was.My swearing is unexcuseable,but I will not edit it out.I can not believe how FUCKING difficult this is,I LOVED HER SO MUCH,as I am sure you all have guessed She is gone now,taken from me just when I had turned my life around.How much different things might have been....but then then,if they had turned out differently,I would not be here today talking with you.

So,the ball game ends with me the goat instead of the hero.As was tradition,both teams retired to a neutral bar for a litle post game drinking.Normally I would be sitting with a large party,but that day,Lisa and I sat alone in the corner,the rest of the world was shut out.To us they did not exist.

Within fifteen minutes,we had decided to start living together,that very day,it was as if we both knew that there was no time to waste.Within the next fifteen minutes it was decided that I would chance careers,and within the hour I had found a real job.it must have been fate,for that was also the day I meet my present landlord.He hired me that day as a labour,he was renovating several homes. He was hesitate of hiring me,for he knew of my rep,but Lisa piped up and said,"I will vouch for him,he will never do you wrong,cause if he did,he would lose me! "

I was hired immediately.

Whether you be a cow or a countess,it takes nine months to make a baby,and it was nine months that I had with her.I was ,as I had said a drug dealer when we met,but within six weeks of knowing her I had totally cleaned up my act,I was not at that time addicted to drugs,I did however drink way to much.

I never totally quit drinking while with her,but it was reserved for pay day week-ends kind of thing.Paydays where something I was not used to having,not in the regular sense,everyday was a payday for a dealer.

I have always had a problem with money,when I have it,I spend it without thought for tomorrow,when,like now I do not even have enough to eat properly,it means little to me.I want for nothing,I am warm,I ate and my cat as been feed,tomorrow is another day,if my cheque is not here ( end of month/disability/welfare) I will go hungry tomorrow,no big deal ( I ALWAYS have enough cat food!).

I am going to end this narrative for now.it is to painful.I will tell you all a secret that no one,not even the coroner knows( knews? lol)

Lisa and I were in the mist of a very intense session of love making when suddenly she started to shake uncontrollably then jerked to a complete stop.She died they tell me painlessly and instantly.It was a brain hemorrhage.

I know this was a disappointing ending,I was wrong to think I could do justice to the story.I never even started to think about writing this until this afternoon.That is not fair to you,or to my craft.I will improve,you have my word on it.

LISA,the story CONTINUES

1996-05-24T15:00:00.000-06:00

OUR HOME WAS ALWAYS FILLED WITH UNICORNS,THEY ARE NOT MYTH,THEY LIVE IN HER ALWAYS

Whether you be a cow,or a Countess,it takes nine months to make a baby!
What's that got to do with the story?for now let's just say it's one of my favorite quotes from one of my favorite authors.
I'm stumped...be patient....how...where...shit,this is not going to be as easy as I thought it would be,the only way I can write this is just to let my fingers keep moving and let it out.If I appear to be rambling,forgive please.

Mat 24th 1996 is a day that I will never forget.There have been moments that I wish I had never gone to that ball game,for if I had not,I would not be experiencing the feelings I am right now,and the fucking tears would not be pouring down my cheeks...
If I hang a calendar over it,my landlord will not see the hole I just punched in his wall,lets hope He never stumbles on to this site.
Okay,I am at the first game of the new season,we are at the Victoria High-school playground,not exactly Rigly's Field,there wasn't even a "fence"the outfield ran forever.
I had not played the year before,at least not to any team in this league!(all the games from last year were between different cell blocks D BLOCK RULES!)It's around 2.00pm,and since it was a Sunday,I was still sober!( back then we didn't have Sunday openings in the bars like there is now.)
The whole purpose of this league was to have an excuse to drink on Sundays,we were all sponsored my one brewery or another,and in return for us wearing their uniforms(which we NEVER did get!)they donated a few suitcases of beer each week to every team.
I had spent the night before sitting in "my office"until closing at 2.00am then on to I believe Debbie's place for a few more hours of drinking and carousing,and it was with her that I went to the ball game.
This is a boring story....how.hum.....
All rightttyyyy theeennnn,to the good part,all the little details will be saved for the novel!!

The Ball Game Story:

There it was,bottom of the ninth,(actually it was the bottom of the sixth,that is how many innings there are in slow pitch,it'd just more dramatic this way!) Two out,we were down by two,one man on First,I am up,what's do you think happened? humm.

I am but a shell of what I was only ten years ago,in my day I was considered quite the Jock,hockey,football,soft and hard ball,martial arts,I excelled at them all.There were those who compared me to a Greek God,those same now say I look like a God Damn Greek!(please no PC cards and letters.it's HUMOUR! live with it.)A hush falls over the crowd,I approach the batters box,confident in what I had to do.

I knew,before the ball even left the pitchers hand,exactly what was going to happen,I had been visualizing it all afternoon.Here was my chance to play Hero again,something my insecure nature feed upon.

The swing! CRACK!

you could hear the power behind the contact,you knew that ball was GONE!

Due to the field layout there was no such thing as an "automatic" homerun,you had to RUN.Running was never my strong point,I was '"to cool"The man on first was rounding second by the time I started my "amble" around the plates.The crowd is screaming at me to RUN! there was an excellent chance I could tie the game,if I would only damn well RUN!

I was approaching second base,and the out fielder was just picking up the ball,there was no way one man could throw me out,it would have to be relayed by the second baseman.The second baseman was standing tippy-toed on the bag,looking to the outfield,arms stretched out over the head in anticipation of catching the throw.

It was the most beautiful sight I had ever seen.

She stood,even on tip toes,no more then 5'4"and Her weight had never exceeded 115 lbs except when She was with child.

Her long black hair was tied back in the two cutest piggy-tails you have ever seen.Her legs,highly visible under Her black cut-off jeans, rippled with muscles as She stood out streched,her hard flat abdomen exposed by the lifting of the white T-Shirt, revealing her tanned skin almost to the bottom of her pert breasts.

Her eyes,black as coal, were glancing nervously back and forth between the outfielder and me lumbering down the base line at Her.You had to admire her courage,She was not giving an inch,her feet werte going to stay on that bag no matter what I did.

Our man,who had been on first was just crossing home plate,all it took to tie the game was for me to jog around the bases,I could easily out pace what would have to be a relayed throw.

We lost the game by one run.The next batter after me hit an easy pop up to third.

End of story................................................................till next week!

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LISA

1996-03-17T02:00:00.000-06:00

A most peaceful place,that's where She is now.I imagine that it is Her under that tree,I need only to do well enough,and I will be able to join Her.

ROBIN:
When he asked me to write this for him,my first reaction was NO WAY!
How could I tell the whole world what my sis had told me in confidence,and even if I was to reveal it all,wouldn't that just cause all the old pain to return?Hell it just about killed him before,not to mention all the people he almost killed!
Okay,I'll try,but I am only going to lay the ground work,then will turn it back to him,it's his damn Blog,and She was his Wife,it's his story to tell.
Lisa had been my best friend for almost as long as could remember,I been there through it all with Her,the drugs,the drinks,and I was there every time some man had treated her wrong.She sure could pick them,bad boys all,She joked that Ted Bundy was her Hero,and I think part of her wasn't joking!
This choice of mates most likely came from some deep rooted "minister's daughter" complex,if you know what I mean.

I don't mean Her Daddy was a Minister,he was actually a noted cardio( oh HELL HEART DOC!)(I can't spell to good) but she was raised as Daddy's Little Princess with ballet lessons to boot!
She had three older brothers,all very successful,very educated(hell,one is the director or what ever of the Mendel Art Gallery,but she was raised not to worry about education,she was a Lady,and they just didn't bother with such things,some rich man would marry Her,and that would be that.
Those were Her Father's plans,her were WAY different!
Lets skip ahead here,this is about Lisa and Patch,not her past before him.
I was there the day She first laid eyes on him,and let me tell you,it was both of us that had the instant hots for him!
There he stood at the door way,squinting the way people do when entering a dark room from the bright sunshine.
It was March 17th 1996,Her 42nd birthday. St Patricks day.We were drinking green beer.It seems like suddenly the bar went silent for a second,then it seem to come alive,with 3/4 of the people all getting up and approaching him.Who ever he was,he was well known,and by the reaction of people,you could tell He had been away a while,and just from his appearance I knew where he'd been,
He stood 6'2"and looked to be around 19o lbs and he was BUILT!
His upper body was crammed into a way to tight black T-Shirt,exposing rippling muscles,his arms where ridged with popping veins,even His hands seemed like they just come out of the gym.His black jeans on the other hand looked like they were ready to fall off,as if he had just lost a lot of pounds of the gut and butt!(and His butt.... o'girl..let me tell you..
Yep,we knew where he'd been,when someone walked into this Bar looking like that,it meant just one thing,he's just got out of Prison!
We both wanted in the worst way for him to notice us,but He was swamped by people who knew Him,and I had already over heard three girls ask Him to pick them for His "straightener"(joint slang for first piece of tail after getting out)( H.D.F)
We were new comers to this bar,we had only become "regulars" about three months ago,after Lisa split with Ed and started living close by,so He had never seen us before,and despite our teasing back and forth,neither one of us got the nerve to approach Him.
Just about the time our courage was fueled enough from the booze,he was gone,with about a half dozen following Him.
That was in March,like I've said,we never saw Him again till probably about the middle of May,any how,it was the first Slow Pitch game of the season,and until this day,every first game is dedicated to Her,and the "Story"is retold,and that is where I will let Patch take over for a while.

Patch:(aka Doug,aka H.Douglas Forbes,aka the ADVENTUREMAN! aka oh shut up!
Robin's dead wrong about one thing,that first day in the bar she talks about that I never took any notice of them,and nothing could be further from the truth.
First off I have never in my life walked into a Bar without noticing absolutely everything and everybody,I can honestly say I would not be alive today if I did not have that little idiosyncrasy.
I more than noticed them,I asked everybody there who they were,but (and here I am sorry Robin,my sis) I only had an eye for one,the 5'2"110 lb beauty with the long black hair.
I wanted to make a move towards them,but my "posse" had different plans for me,and after being locked up for a year,I wanted the "sure" thing,or maybe even two of them!
I would hunt another day.
Where Robin is correct,it was May,in fact it was the long week-end in May,when we take a day off to by respect to the Queen by celebrating Her Birhday.
I was there to play a little ball,but mostly to "network"as I was re-establishing my pharmacutical business and was always looking to "hook up"
This was a Hotel/Restaurant leaque,and where ever you find service people,you will find drugs,both to be sold to,as well as to supply you.Please hold off on the cards and letter,I speak only from my own experiences.
The ball game "story"is like Robin said, a classic,one that is repeated every year,I always find out about the re-telling from some well wisher or another.
However,no one knows the whole truth behind it,at least not the living,no one that is except one: ME and be sure to return here next week and I will tell it to you!

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