This is cmsix's damned Blog

This may, or may not be, a blog. I don't know what it takes to qualify but I'm assuming this will be close enough, and yes, I know about assumptions. But it's my soap and my peter and I'll wash it just as fast as I want to. Latest entries will be on top.

November 7, Two Thousand and Nine The worst part about losing a toe to an Indian Quack is... Well, it's really two or more things. Number one is the way the Indian let me down. No, he isn't an American Indian. He is from that continent way off 'round on the other side of the world. Just let me say I don't have a prejudice bone in my body and was really looking forward to being treated by the guy. Boy, talk about a dream crasher. In the first place his last name is so long I didn't bother to remember how to spell it and that's probably a good thing for him. He has the bedside manner of a rock, and not even of a nice smooth one that's been in the bottom of the stream for a few thousand years. He doesn't give a shit what he tells you or what he does to you. Hell, he's a smart Indian and that's all that counts to him. He may be smart but he doesn't know shit about cutting a toe off and keeping it from hurting. It aches so bad at night that I can't sleep and the lack of sleep is giving my depression hell. He'll be lucky if he doesn't find himself on one of the planets my guys left in "A Log Truck Driver In Outer Space," and without a pot to piss in at that. At least I now know what I want for Christmas. A 1000 count bottle of Percodan, if any of you have it to spare. It often happens that you don't know when you have it made in the shade. I once had a pharmacist friend with a little store front pharmacy. I could walk in with a headache and walk out on the clouds. Well that's all gone to shit now. Probably for the best, but how'll I ever convince my toe of it? I know I wasting time bitching when I could be writing, but there you go. My toe, or where it was, is hurting and its about all I can get my mind around. I'll see you all later, or you'll see more of my blog anyway. Maybe I'll even work in some more time for my stories. Remember though, what ever you do, if you want to send me a donation do it the old fashioned way, Use the post office. Paypal had decided to keep all the money they get with my name on it so that's a bust now. I always knew it sounded too good to be true. Love ya all, cmsix

November 6, Two Thousand and Nine

PayPal ills seem like they'll never be cured. Right now they say they need two thousand four hundred dollars and some change to get it right. Even I couldn't have fucked it up that badly and that includes with my daughter's help. Please don't send me any donations via PayPal since they'll probably reject them anyway and even if they take them I won't get the money. Please send donations via US Postal mail to: Chessley Grogan 601 West Miller Street Atlanta, Texas 75551

My birthday was on November 2, and I lived over it just fine thank you. Due to the last second rush, the final date for birthday donations has been extended to June 7, 2010. That is my middle brother's birthday and all donations after that will be happily applied to my next birthday, November 2 2010. Remember it is always better to send a donation late than to skip sending it at all. Currently I am sitting at my desk for the first extended period since that quack cut my toe off. I have also been informed that he will be refusing to see me anytime in the future. And to think I was actually considering going back to let him dress the wound he left again. Somehow, probably in a drug induced fit of honesty, I also managed to get a Certified Letter from the quack that recommended Doctor Indian shitass to cure the "dry gangrene" in the first place. I was planning on letting him redress the wound I left the hospital with, expecially since his office is only two blocks down the street from good old 601 Miller Street. That fact was also why I used him in the first place. Needless to say I am now in need of advice on how to dress half a big toe. By the way there seems to be no place left for a toenail to grow in. At least I'll probably be no longer worried about the atheletes foot infection on that nail. Another piss off is the close knit closing of ranks of the doctors at our local hospital. Atlanta Memorial of Atlanta Texas. It seems none of the bastards want to have anything to do with me now. Sucks to thier asmar is what I say and I really wouldn't want to be in any of their shoes when good old cmsix makes one of his spaceoperas come true. God Damn my toe, or where it was, is hurting right now. How do they do that. I can plainly feel where some shitass is driving a sixteen penny nail right down through where my toenail used to be.

Here is one of the latest from the good old Anonymous Mailbag. your blog soumds like extotion.

Well thank you for your spot on description. It is extortion in a way. You don't have to send me money in donations unless you want to and then only if you can afford it. On the other hand I don't have to write any more and I don't have to post anymore. Or, I could go with one of the pay sites where you pay first before you read. But I'm not that kind of guy.

It's true I do have to write. I don't know why but I can't help it. It is also true I don't have to post what I write for you to read. So I have this little scheme I dreamed up all on my own. I write a little and post it. You get to read that little for free and then you send me money if you want to see more. After I get what I think is enough money I'll write some more and put it up in the same free spot. Since Paypal is out of play now all I have to do is look in my mailbox and count the money coming in. When it is enough I'll put up more.

Feel free to call it extortion if you like. Feel free to send me a note about what a bastard I am. I don't give a rat's ass. If you want to see more send a donation. If you don't, don't. It's simple. Thanks for your support. cmsix

June Five, Two Thousand and Nine

Don't send me money via Paypal. The reason is embarassing, but I'm going to tell all - or most - right now.

I let my daughter have my Paypal password and between she and I using the same account it got hopelessly fouled up. The negative balance in it is something I can't overcome so I'm going to have to stop using it. I'm sure many of you already know about it because I have been receiving notifications about donations being rejected. I tried to explain to them that the account would never be right as long as they kept rejecting donations, but they have their rules and they are going to stick to them no matter if rescinding them would be to their benefit or not. So, Fuckem if they can't take a joke. If you would like to send me a donation you will have to use the post office. Thanks

cmsix

May Twenty-Eight, Two Thousand and Nine

I love to hear from everyone who reads my stories; however, one lie that pisses me off is the one that starts out... I'd love to send you a donation but can't because...

If you can't send me money - don't, but don't piss and moan to me about why you can't. Just don't send the money and keep your fingers off the keyboard about why you can't. In the first place I don't believe you because if you can't afford to send me five bucks how can you afford to read my stories in the first place. So just keep your trap shut about whether or not you're sending me money or why you can't afford it.

Just for your information I'm not making a list and checking it any at all so I don't know whether you've sent me money or not. If you sent me a thousand bucks just last week I wouldn't know you from Adam's off ox. I just don't keep up with things like that. I appreciate evey donation I get, but I don't keep track of them to send you a note asking for more later. Don't worry about that either.

I'm going to keep writing as long as someone keeps sending me a few bucks. When it dries up to nothing I'm going to stop writing, or stop giving it away anyhow, and pick up a few bucks otherwise. Whether I start selling my stories to a real pay site or take up computer repair again is still up in the air. That's the name of that tune. I get money - I write. When I stop getting money I'll stop writing. I'll polish then ends of the stories I have and whack them off to finish, or maybe I'll just leave them hanging - it all depends on how the spirit moves me.

cmsix