First of all, I want to warn everybody who is as fucking stupid as me: do not drive vehicles without a license but with drugs. Consider it a lesson freely shared.
Not freely endured however.
So, there I am, the whole bony thing, on the side of Damen Ave, shaking like a leaf because I didn’t have my papers, or any papers save for a few torn up JOB papers scattered around a vehicle that *was not mine* with an offset printing press taking up the entire back of this borrowed hatchback, replete with a hundred pounds of inks and solvents, all looking very much like a mobile meth lab. Needless to say a thorough search was conducted while I sat in the police vehicle with handcuffs on.
Now you might be thinking that with all of my paranoid anxiety about shackle keys and handcuffs and chains and authority and that FUCKING clicking sound they make and how they put them on so tight because inside they are spineless weak little devils who want to cause malicious harm to weaker people, evil little bastards each and every one, oh I know the fucking type. Sure enough it was him. He called me a fuck up which I found unprofessional and offensive.
Well they found my weed, all two grams of it, and how I begged and pleaded and absolutely made myself feel so worthless in front of them groveling but to no avail. The car was impounded, I was impounded, but I was taking it in stride.
They cuffed me to a pole and then took turns coming in to gawk at this skinny tattooed freak wearing argyle socks, shivering and mopey eyed, like a twelve year old waiting impatiently for his dad to finish a few things around the office before they went home. They each said some little thing they thought was funny and then walked off feeling good about themselves. They told me not to be a pussy when I asked to go to the bathroom. I told them I had a condition, you know, the kind that makes me pee a lot, and that I wouldn’t hesitate to piss in my own pants in front of him. They did finally take me.
They couldn’t seem to find the button for marijuana possession in their computer. It took five cops in total just to book me. It took another five to find my fingerprints because I had never been put in the system before.
I am currently awaiting my court date. It already cost $1300 to get the car out of impound and if you have followed this stupid little journal of mine long enough you know that this is pretty much my annual income already. I’m sure there will be more fines to come. And all of this to teach a lesson to a 27 year old veteran with no prior record save for an honorable service record with the military who was caught with so little pot that if he were to have presented it at a party it would have been shyly denied and secretly ridiculed. Congratulations Chicago Police Department. This is one major victory in your war on drugs.
Thank God I only travel with part of my stash right? We go so fucking high that night… until I broke down into tears when it finally struck me how terribly, horribly small that cell was and how when the door was shut on me I had this funny feeling. I wasn’t too long before I had identified all of the best places to hang yourself from. The Snow Ball Effect.
That is why they make these little scissors.
Well, that’s enough of that.
The Paper Trail 
The last coupel of days i spent sitting in front of my computer and nearly eating every word of your blog. Magnificent.
I´m addicted to reading anyway. I started when i was a child and since i read everything i´m able to get hold of. Even timetables while waiting for a bus, i just need to read. Usually stuff which i find more thrilling than timetables.
In the last years it became more and more difficult to find interesting books, reports, essays etc.
Love 80 % of your stuff, language, style and topics. While reading i was griefing, i was appalled, i was laughing till i cried, i was impressed, i got wounderful new points of few on subjects i thought i have so much experience that no one could teach me new stuff about and whatever.
Usually i don´t write comments, but for a very selfish reason i´m doing it now:
Please continue writing and publishing, i need good stuff to read.
You’re probably only eating my blog because there is no good food in S. Germany. Just kidding. I really hope you have a healthy diet, though, despite your geographic predisposition.
I see this as a bit of a journal, so to be so enthusiastically received is really rewarding. I selfishly hope that I can keep you coming here and impressing you with new tricks. I have been AFK for a while while I have been setting up a printing press so that I can publish real artifacts and look forward to sharing those.
I would be greatly interested to receive any and all critique that you have to offer after having spent so much time with my writing. If you have any feel free to email me at chrisarendt@combatpaper.org.
Thanks for reading and for commenting.
`Otis