Dark Confidence II: Social Services Revealed!

Quick, three dots review of some of the help I've gotten in New York City since landing here to escape my enemies' alarming bizarreness:

90 Lafayette's New York City Rescue Mission: Holy Hudson on the Half Moon! There was stuff going on at this bedehouse for the reprobate that would appall Miles Standish and a good many other 16th Century Indian killers. Zero out of five abbesses approve...

Schwartz Men's Assessment Shelter on Randall Island. Liveable, but the clients are not the only ones engaging in shady shenanigans. One night, there was a shortage of ratty blankets, but I laughed it off as, 'Okey-dokey, I guess IllI just cry all the way back to where I've got no land...' I did get to be a hero there, and save an overdosed man's life (but that I had to...) Vicious Calypso dragon lady Ms. B was particularly Trunchbullesque among staff. That said, points to the facility personnel and the friendly intake lobby NYPD sargeants for tipping me off to the arrival of notorious stalker Jesus Diaz...

Bellevue Psychiatric Emergency: good food, adequate head shrinks. Saw the good Corporal, my future husband (Syd's momser) there, and was so happy...

Praxis Housing Initiatives on 109th: Wonderful, until I got booted upon being accused of failing to cut up a chubby baby dyke, as though I'm that kind of evil straight chick from a Russ Meyer titty pic. Ms. C's 'caged heat' crap isn't washing as of this post, and I'm currently in talks with attorneys concerning the program's shitty treatment of me...

Dark Confidence

No place, really, for this stuff on the usually upbeat new blog, Out & About With Will:

1. I promised myself I would eschew blogging about my - am I making you call me manky? - rubbish bin finds... My check stretches only so far every month, then I must scavenge; a fascinating topic, but depressing. Then I saw the following, and thought something funny:

'Look, it's white trash!'

Clearly, life among certain over-the-top eliminationist shitheads in California has damaged me...

2. And speaking of Jesus Diaz, el vecino malo y el maricon moribundo; and his de facto lieutenant Rashell Laskiewicz: I recently entertained the paranoid delusion that she had stolen my sperm by working with an Oregonian I'd been having sex with in Hell's Kitchen - that she tried to use it to get pregnant.

Were that true, I would find out, I have no doubt. A judge might rule in my favor and order such a criminally conceived pregnancy terminated; and barring that, I would of course be awarded full custody of my child upon her being born, and a restraining order issued against Rashell, who has always been known as a monster, a thug, a dipshit, and an unfit mother to her legitimate children (who themselves were recently a hair's breadth from killing her anyway, but I digress...)

So I should be okay, right?

Whew.