Real Fiero Tech

Well, I'm fresh from my stay at the nervous hospital. Want to know anything about being 5150?

yea

whats 5150

5150 means Possible Danger to self or others. Automatic 72 hour hold. Don't ever go crazy at a county hospital if you can at all avoid it.

Did you get to keep the straight jacket?

ahh ok. they call it something differen't down here in da souf.

Its called the Baker act here.

The police can arrest if you they think you pose a danger to yourself and then you are supervised by doctors or soemthing for yea like at least 3 days. Can be more. But yea you are thrown into the loony bin.

Don't tell me that thread over on Fagland about the 4.3 Turbo vid(oops I mean v8 with 5 spd tranny) pushed you over the top.

:uhoh:

They used the chemical straightjacket, so yeah I guess I'm keeping that.

I love the smell of pepper in the morning.

So dude you going to tell the story or what?

Fuck, if you're down, I'll tell the story. I'll warn you, it ain't all pretty, the things in my head.

Did you tell the MAN what's UP?

Naw, I was too busy crying like a bitch.

uhhh, can i point and laugh?

Whatever, guy.

*points and laughs*

Tell your story already

Your Fuhrer

Diggity"getting bored"Biggity

Sorry, I was off enjoying an hour with my shrink.

OK, here's the story. For the past year I've been working as an Instructional Assistant for multiply disabled kids. Low stress job, pay sucks, but it made me feel like I was helping. Good karma and shit.
In this area, that particular job discription is 90% Mexican. Now, I love my messican bros and all that but the guys working at the highschool I was assigned to hard a particular hard on for me from day one, due to my whiteness. In the 5 months that I worked there, they never spoke to me spontaneously and give me th "non-look" in the hall.

So what. I don't like lots of people, I can still do my job. As long as they stay out of my way, they don't even have to deal with me. I'm certainly not going to go crying to my supervisors because they don't like me. I stay out of their way.

Until February 9th. My 38th birthday. (Bit of background, my older brother fatally overdosed 2 weeks to the day after his 28th birthday, birthdyas have a lot of baggage for me.) I got sent by the teacher to tag along to gym class with the guys. I get to the wrestling room, and there is no sense of urgency. The messicans are working out on the weights and bullshitting around. They got a couple of kids out of their chairs, but nothing where they would have needed me.

All of the sudden, the one messican who is a moody, butt hurt emo fag yelled across the room at me :ARE YOU GONNA HELP OR WHAT?" Considering, I reacted well, but I did correct him that I don't report to him, and that I'd be pleased to help if he chooses to come correctly. I tiik care of the kid he wanted help with, and went on my break right after class. Emo boy made a beeline to the teacher to give her his spin that he came over to talk to me and I exploded on him in front of the class.

So basically I get reassigned pendig a meeting with the involved parties to get it worked out. I arrived for the meeting, and only the principal was there. She stated that she met with everyone else the day before, and that they all agreed in their accont that I was "sitting down" on the job, and that she didn't need to hear my side, and she would not use me at any of her schools (basically the whole town). I got a bit stressed and it came over in my voice, and she packed up her shit in a huff and left, saying that I was rude.

Fuck. If you made it through all that, congrats. While that drama sounds abit childish, it should be something that the average person should cope with. However, other things had me pushed to the edge.

Driving home, I started sobbing and screaming in my car. Could not maintain. I got home and called an EAP counselor (Eamployee assistance for mental and behavioral health) and I could not stop crying and screaming, after 30 minutes of this she offered to call the cops. Tip, if it happens to you, have them call a cab. $ cruisers rolled into my quiet cul de sac, and I answered the door to a cop about my size (Huge if you didn't know) with his hand on the butt of his Glock. I got frisked in my front yard, warrants ran, and locked into the back of the cop car and taken to the emergency room. By the time I became too exhausted to cry, I had been sobbing and hyperventilating for about 2 and a half hours.

At noon, they took me upstairs, taking away my shows and belt, and gave me a bed. My room mate was a mexican guy coming down of crank psychosis, he mostly slept, but I woke up in the middle of the night to have him standing over me asking me questions.

I couldn't sleep from 12-3, and I'm still trying to get my sleep patten straight. The psychiatry intern who saw me for 12 minutes basically told my wife that I was there to get drugs to get high. My wife took exception to that, and within a 10 minute conversation, she got him to release me Saturday instead of Monday.

Anyway, that's the general story.

Cliff Notes- Had a fucked up day at work, couldn't hang, went nuts.

Friend of mine had a day like that once... Navy denied him orders to Fallon, NV because of it... Some psychologist bitch wanted to drum him out, though...

Yeah, I don't get to own a gun now.

Suck. So much for the 2nd amendment...

WTF!! Aren't the police supposed to be public servants..you would think a social worker (( such as an officer )) wouldn't have his hand on his glock..but his hand on your shoulder..listening to your problems..Dude..fucked up

Wow...

Your Fuhrer

DiggityBiggity