|I thought I knew insane. I didn't know insane.
||[Sep. 24th, 2005|09:53 pm]
There is a story to be told here. Statik and I are talking about it, because the S. story is eating up a lot of our mindspace right now. Rather than get right into this whole thing, I would like to begin by giving a brief setup.
Jason (Me, stupid!)
Now, many of you have heard of Shay. She is the villain of this story.
Okay, the VERY brief version, which I am thinking about expressing as a full novel...
Shay and I were friends since we both got online, about eight years ago. She and I talked exclusively online til I got a cell phone, whereupon we started talking on the phone, at least once a week. She would often have her son chat with me online as we spoke. She was very active in the gay parenting groups online, and wrote prolifically on raising her son and her interactions with the world as a lesbian.
According to Shay, she got kicked out of her evil grandmother's house once she finished paying off the mortgage. She bounced from place to place, even chacking herself into a rehab so she would have a place to stay though she did not have a drug addiction. She lived with friends for a long period of time, one year for one and two years with another. Her son was with her when she did.
She recently moved back in with her dad, like six or seven months ago. He got in trouble with his landlords, however, and she needed to go somewhere. She asked if she could come here and crash with me, get a job and a place of her own. I said yeah, I mean, I KNEW her, right?
She crashed here and smelled up the place with her "hormonal imbalance," which would mean that she had a bum full of shit that couldn't be wiped, though it didn't smell like poo, more like dirt and rotting vegtables.
After getting me in trouble with my landlord, I found accomodations for her with a friend who was looking for a roommate. She was to have a job with which to pay rent by the end of the month, but he gave her a free month's rent.
Fast-forward two weeks. She is getting kicked out of Statik's house form being hell on fat legs and stinking up his apartment and making a spectacle of herself in the main areas of the complex. She goes or they both go, so he was getting rid of her. This was the last straw. She e-mailed me telling me that she was going to "do what she had to do," and then I got an e-mail from her son telling me that she was going to hurt herself, so I called 9-1-1. Meanwhile, she has downed a bottle of Valerian Root. They arrested her, I called her dad.
Daddy, who turns out to actually be step-daddy, says she HAS no son. I start doing research. None of the friends she stayed with know what I am talking about, they never met her son, though they have heard of him lots, as I did, and have chatted with him online. They have all sent her money to feed him and herself. Then we go to help Statik clean up his apt, and the rest is history, granting me maybe a week of internet stardom, which is pretty fucking funny.
So yeah, most of you know that I found out about her son, the son that I have heard about for the past eight years, the son that I have chatted with for the past eight years, does not exist. I have spoken to some of her other friends, and yeah, it's true, there is no Shane. Okay, okay, well, there WAS a Shane, but he died when he was a baby because he was born too small or something. So we're dealing with the girl who took the fun out of dysfunction.
I am sure you know from reading my previous posts that she tried killing herself yesterday, and I called the police, because well, yeah, sort of had to and all. However, I am sure that some of you would like to know what she was
when the police came and took her. I am sure that some of you would also like to know what sort of
Really powerful stuff, huh?
I was NOT prepared for the mess at Statik's place though. I KNEW there would be smell. I knew there would be some mess. Statik told me a few days ago that there was poo on the edge of her bed. I thought that it was actually the chocolate pudding that I gave her. No, no, it was poo. Of course, none of us knew what was in store for us. I'll take you through the story as well as I possibly can, however, none of it is pleasant, and some of these pics? Well, you need to be VERY strong of constitution to look at them. I also want to stress that these pics were taken mainly so that I can bring them in to the staff of whatever medical facility she gets admitted to and show them just how ba the situation truly is. I'm also posting them here because I need to vent.
To start, I should say that we all three of us went to the emergency room yesterday to see her. She had Statik's keys, so it was pretty much something that he could not avoid, and I wanted to go see her and all. I had no idea what I wanted to say, but I figured that everything would work itself out as the night progressed. Well, yeah, sure. We go there, visit, she seems to think it's a normal thing to tell Statik that she wanted him to come home and find her dead body. She was eating her second meal when we were there as well. There was a lot that was just plain odd. I don't remember all of it, but a lot of it had to do with the fact that she wanted to die, and she had downed a bunch of sleeping pills. As you saw from the pic above, what she "od'ed on" was actually Valerian Root, which does NOTHING if you take too much of, because it's just a stupid herbal remedy. I am not going to go too much into the visit in the hospital, but I did call her on the Shane thing, and she INSISTS that her step-dad is her real dad and that Shane exists. I baited her a little bit though, and I asked her how long Shane lived with Connie for. As I had asked Connie if she'd ever met Shane before, well, I knew that Connie never met him. Shay told me that Shane lived with Connie for two years, and with Beth for a year. One of the things that stood out, however, is that S. came right out and said to Statik, "The one thing that I ask is that you let me pack my own stuff. I won't be on here forever." Mmm hmm. Something was up, you could tell. I wish we had even a clue as to how much bad was in store for us.
The three of us leave, confused, and head to Statik's house. Well, we looked around, and I put a glove on, (Statik often changed the colour of his hair, so he has a box of vinyl gloves,) and picked up her pants. BIG mistake, because there was something, presumably blood, all over them. Jason = grossed out at this point. I stopped looking through those.
Of course, a smell was permeating the front room, coming from the bed. There was some brown stuff on the electric blanket, and well, we were morbidly curious. So I pick up the blanket up. BAD, BAD mistake. There is a TON of brown stuff. We assumed it was blood. We were disgusted. Fags in general aren't so good at dealing with "woman blood." Menses. The Crimson Tide. Whatever the fuck you wanna call it. I do a lot better than most, cuz you people who know me know that I live for my girls, all my hags out there. We covered the mess back up with the blanket and did the grossout dance for a while.
I noticed my duffle bag, and the fact that it was full perplexed me. After all, her things were strewn about the room, what little she had. So what did I do? I opened it. The contents? Trash. Food wrappers. Almost-empty pudding cups. Fruit flies. And damn, a smell that could kill a cow. Zipping that bag back up, the curiosity was too great for me and Statik, so we opened the other bag, thinking that we would find her pictures in there, since we are curious who the pics that she claims to be Shane actually are. Well, we found something much, much worse, something that made my gorge rise, quite literally. There were two 2-liter soda bottles in the bag, both of them FULL of urine. The one in the Pepsi bottle had fermentation/sediment in it. I ran to the edge of the balcony and dry-heaved. Those who know me well know that me dry-heaving at something disgusting doesn't happen often. There was green shit in the pee bottle though, and well, EEEYUU!!! We DID venture into the last bag, and we found the pics that were supposedly of her son. I don't even know why we wanted to see them so badly, because it's not like we were about to be able to look at the pics and have divine inspiration hit us, allowing us to figure out who the kid really was. We stared at them in shocked silence before continuing.
We had to leave, so Statik came here for the night; there was no way I could in all of good concience make him stay there. Hell, we're talking biohazard at this point. He stayed here, and we all got a little liquored up. I think all of you can see that we were justified in this though, and that this is a situation that alcohol is needed. Most likely MUCH more than we drank. Derek and Statik hit the tequila, and I was all about the brandy.
This morning, we woke up late and I made waffles, eggs and sausage. I only ate waffles, but I digress. Statik and I ran to Big Lots and Target, where he bought a shitload of cleaning supplies. Then the three of us went back to his house, and the real grossness began. We had to throw out the bed. When we took the electric blanket off of the bed, well that was gross enough. However, that was FAR from the extent of it. I then pulled back the top sheet. Let me point out, as you will see in one of the pics, we were wearing Latex dish-washing gloves due to the severity of the disgustipation. Not one of us would have touched a thing without them. Anyway, when I pulled the top sheet back, that was dry heave of the day number one. The sheets were stuck together, sandwiching diarrhea between them. We all realized that this meant that she had shat herself, and rather than getting up and fixing the situation, she merely put the top sheet on top of it and went back to sleep. She must have been sleeping in this for DAYS due to the look of it. The shit had dripped down the side of the sheets and hit the floor. That's what we had assumed was chcolate pudding, since she had eaten that before. However, thigs made MUCH more sense when the sheets were pulled back.
EVERY pair of her pants was shit-stained. One of them was glued to itself with shit, and emitted a little cloud of shit-dust when it was pulled apart. In the pics, this is the dark green pair.
Remember, these were taken while cleaning the place. I feel VERY lucky that this was not my place, but also irate that she did it at a friend's place. My relief takes over though, and frees me from feeling guilty, as Statik took her in as a favour to me and Derek. SCROLL PAST THESE PICS IF YOU THINK THEY MAY MAKE YOU ILL!!!
The mess was slightly visible even from outside.
The bed as seen when you walk in the front door.
Looks fairly innocuous, yes? Messy, but innocuous...
Pile of dirty laundry, since it goes in the middle of the living room.
Poo scrapings? Chocolate pudding? Dried mud? Yeah, it was poo.
WTF is one of my facecloths doing here?
Another shot of same.
One of the causes of my dry-heaving. I hadn't even noticed that this was only the top sheet at this point.
More of a bed shot to illustrate the disgustingness.
Say goodbye to the blanket I loaned her.
One side of the blanket that she'd been using.
AAAAAAAAAA!!!! I pulled the top sheet back!!!
*insert vomit noises here* Yeah, the poo ran DOWN the bed.
That clinches it, the bed is getting thrown out.
Think that's bad?
Pulled apart! >.<
I told you about this one. Watch out...
Here's the nasty!
Does it EVER end?
TOO CLOSE!!! TOO GROSS!!!
One of these is mine, the others were her dads. They are both in the trash.
It's all wrong.
All the same pair. Did it run down her leg? What happened?
With the toilet looking this bad, how can her pants and bed be like that?
The bag I loaned her looks completely innocuous, yes?
Oh god, no. Poop in my bag. MY bag.
Look for the maggots. There were plenty.
Her two bottles of urine. The Pepsi bottle is especially gross. *shudder*
If you made it through this, well, congrats. I am still nauseated. There is much more, but I have to stop talking about it. Derek and I have an appointment with some alcohol. Yeah, tonight too.
Another note? These pics are all ones I took, so copyright me or whatever.
Oh. My. God. It got even worse. Statik messaged me with "I need to see her again." He didn't tell me why, but he e-mailed me a link to his Photobucket account. The couch cushion was turned upside-down to hide a LARGE shit streak. Like, HUGE. It never ends. There is apparently poo all over the floor too, in the kitchen. Ugh.
Statik asked that I put up a link to his PayPal for those of you who wanna help him pay for a profesional cleaner to come in and bleash the hell out of the apartment. Any takers?
NOTE: IF YOU WANT AN UPDATE, DON'T BE A TOOL AND ASK FOR ONE. LOOK THROUGH THE MORE RECENT POSTS IN MY LJ!!!