I'm back again, this time with an entry from my Livejournal about my trip to the looney bin. It references a few past events but you big brains should be able to piece it together!
Well let's see, it all began 2 weeks ago as of the time of this writing. (nearly 3 weeks now) In my desperation for money while in Ontario I bartered away my right to choose my own destiny. I agreed to check myself into the hospital in an attempt to quell my insanity.
I got an appointment with a "Crisis Counsellor". It was way less action-packed than the name implies. She was hot, though. Basically I just told her about the last 8 or so months of my life, which took over 2 ****** hours heh Then she went and got the doctor, whom I despise.
She's this big, fat, Polish bitch who can only wear moo-moos, and her name is Dr. Hoffner, or to me, Dr. Heffer. C'mon, it's too easy. Well, me and the Doc argued for like an hour, then she left and I checked in. Checking in took like an hour too, and during that time I found out my counsellor listened to rap. Unfortunately, she says Jay-Z is too commercial. Nobody's perfect I guess. (Except Jigga!)
I stayed in the hospital for about 29 hours, until I got bored and left, against Doc's wishes. I tried going home but Mom called the cops on me for tresspassing because I broke our deal. I tried to run, but gave up when one of them said they'd tase me haha They got angry when I whistled "Bad Boys" so I stopped. It was a perfect COPS scene though.
I got taken to the holding cells. God, I hate the holding cells. As soon as I was in I started trying to smash the light. I missed a shot and ****** up my hand on the steel heh Then they started threatening me so I took my jeans off and carved "LICK MY BALLS" in the wall so they'd see it every time they checked on me. I also carved "Brett + Yoyo" just cause. Eventually I got a blanket and went to sleep. 12 hours and a Subway lunch later I was released . . .
. . . only to be put in cuffs and escorted back to the hospital. I wasn't exactly cooperative but a cop stayed with me for 2 hours intil my fury burned itself out.
Until the morning that is. I awoke to Heffer ripping my sheets off with some security **** yelling at me. I was taken into the interview room where I was told I'd be transported to Cape Breton because there weren't enough beds in Truro. I had just been forced out of a bed, which was sitting beside an empty bed. Sounded like a bunch of **** to me, and I reacted accordingly.
I jumped up, stepped to the security guard and made him step back, booted the table, and yelled something along the lines of "**** you I am you fatass ****!", which may or may not be the point where the doctor started yelling "No, **** YOU!" back at me. I ran to the end of the hall where the phone was, realized nobody could help me, demolished the reciever in one might blow, and floored it to the door. I was not mighty enough to handle the door, so I waited till some guys tried to come in. They knew what was happening though, thanks to "CODE WHITE!" being blared over the PA system hahah Code white, hehe
Like 9 guys grabbed me and drug me into the "TQ Room" which was a locked room with a gym mat. They took me in, pinned me down, ripped off my pants, and injected me in the ass with a tranquilizer while a nurse asked "Are we even allowed to do this?". "**** no you ******* aren't you *****!! BASTARD MOTHER******* I'LL KILL YOU", I replied. Once the shot was done they all left, leaving me to rant and rave to nobody in particular. I booted at the door until I noticed I had to piss. So, I pissed all over the door so it would leak into the hall. I then passed the **** out.
I woke up on a stretcher, in a straight jacket, surrounded by cops, and being wheeled through the hospital. My crisis counsellor informed me that she'd call my dad and I remember thinking "So ****** what?" before I passed out again. Next time I awoke I was in an ambulance with a cop asking me about my dog. WTF. Time after that I was in a bed in a hospital in Cape Breton. I'd been bested!
The next few days were a medicated blur, until Monday when I regained awareness. I managed to get out for a smoke where I met a cute girl from another ward. Apparently she cuts herself. I still tried to **** her but we weren't allowed in each others' wards. Darn. Wednesday I was sent back to Truro in another ambulance. This time I was wide awake and talked to the drivers. They figured my escapade had already cost the province 5 grand, with payin ambulance drivers and off-duty cops hahaha
Everything's been pretty calm since I got back to the Truro hospital. I had my birthday, been getting high alot, typical ****. A big surprise came on Thursday when the guy I decked with the quarters turned out to be the guard in my ward for the day. Nothing came of it, though. I've had plenty of visitors, been eating wells, etc. Doc says I ain't crazy, I just act impulsively and won't obey rules. Whatever.
Anyway, that was written while inside. Now I got some thoughts upon release.
First of all, that doctor was a sack of ****. She had no compassion, and I don't mean just with me. She treated the seriously disturbed pity cases the same way. One woman even told me her doctor won't send people to the ward because of her.
Second, what a waste of time.
Third, man I got high alot and never got caught.
Fourth, I'm so sick of toast.
Lastly, I fell madly in love with Shakira after seeing her video 100 times in one week. Nelly Furtado almost too.
Edit Filter Helper. 
~Nocte
