About My Friend Mr. Jeff Hannemen

Three Years Ago Today: The Highlight of My Musical “Career”

I'm sticking with the Heinekens, but doing a few shots here and there.
– Jeff Hanneman

I did not have plans to add this post until I saw a memory from 3 years ago pop up in my Facebook feed. It was a scant three years ago when my friend, the better guitar player in Slayer, and notorious recluse Mr. Jeff Hanneman introduced Dick Delicious and the Tasty Testicles add a show in Spartanburg, South Carolina.

At the beach with Jeff Hannemen don't tell me how to ruin my life
As I mentioned in other posts, some of the craziest stories still sitting in a Microsoft Word document. I have a lot of almost unbelievable stories involving Jeff, including but not limited to handing him his guitar (later became my guitar) right before he walked on stage at the Big 4 in Indio California (his last performance with Slayer.)

I shot this video of Jeff Hannemen's final performance in Indio California
Because of my utmost respect for the man both as a human being and a personal hero, I have been holding these tales back (unlike Sebastian Bach or Charlie Sheen). There are a lot of people in heavy metal that claim to be “the real deal, ” but Jeff was true to the core.

There will be more about Mr. Hannemen in future posts.

Until we are again reunited…somewhere “South of Heaven.”

At the rate I'm going, it won't be long.

JQ

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The Sebastian Bach Career Ender Video

 

“Karma, karma, karma, karma, karma chameleon, You come and go, you come and go.” – Boy George

The Sebastian Bach “Career Ender” Sex Tape!

For those who choose to watch this video: Do so at your own discretion! In a unique way, it's equally is haunting as an ISIS execution:

The Sebastian Bach Career Destroyer from Jason Quinlan on Vimeo.

Amended 12/18: it looks like Minnie Gupta filed in DMCA request. That's OK because I was going to take down the video anyways because she explained she had been dealing with harassment from him for the last two years. Honestly, I was going to apologize to her for not getting around to posting it sooner! LOL See: http://forums.metalsludge.tv/forums/viewtopic.php?f=1&t=337966

If you were late to the party, this is what you missed.

The ISIS execution might be going a bit far, but you get my point.

I've had this sitting on my Vimeo account set to private for months. The footage was sent to me by my ex-girlfriend, who went on to date Sebastian Bach a few years after we broke up.

We were friends before we dated for a year and are cool to this day. She's a rad and smart girl, way out of Sebastian's league.

I thought it was an odd combo.

I always sized up Sebastian Bach is being a massive douche bag, but in the few times that I met him, he seemed like he was pretty cool.

After hearing a few horror stories from her, he must've on his best behavior because he knew her ex was present.

Initially, I didn't know why she sent it to me, but then I read he dumped her for some bimbo he just met, married her days later and charged people money to come to his wedding.

Talk about a douche move?

Can't get much douchier!


A friend suggested she was obviously hoping I’d put it on the internet.

Seeing as the whole Charlie Sheen controversy didn't exactly hurt my Alexa and I don't have anything to lose….

I said, “Fuck it” and posted “The Sebastian Bach Career Ender“.

So now I have to ask myself a question?

Am I like Jules from Pulp Fiction, “The path of the righteous man is beset on all sides by the iniquities of the selfish and the tyranny of evil.” or am I a douchebag blogger taking advantage of a celebrity to get more traffic.

It helps to see people whose life and is more of a mess than mine and to look down on!

jason quinlan hallowen pulp fiction
I know one thing for sure: The world-famous penis chart from Metal Sludge can't be entirely accurate because my dick is way bigger!

Just for fun, we can put this to a vote….

JASON QUINLAN: Douchebag blogger or champion of women's rights?

View Results

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If you would like to help me keep writing so I don't have to keep sneaking into Starbucks for WIFI and can actually order of mocha Frapuccino, donations are always appreciated!

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Don’t Me How to Ruin My Online Privacy!

Do You Think This Video Might Have Landed Me on a Terrorist Watchlist?

Just checking in from another lonely night stranded in the Mexican Ghetto.

Last week somebody stole my mountain bike.

No that isn't a punchline to a joke!

I figured while I had already sunk to this level of depravity, I might as well get myself put on the terrorist watchlist for the second time. Now that I think about it, the first round of security antics would be a great topic for the next chapter.

Meanwhile, or somebody turned me on to the Lightbox Firefox Plugin. It allows you to see every website that is monitoring your activity in real time and it's pretty scary.

Check out the video above, and you will see how many eyeballs I had on me just from surfing Facebook and Google. Then I escalated to 12 minutes of surfing jihadist, FBI, ISIS, and NSA websites and you can see the eyeballs multiply exponentially.

I find it pretty scary in 12 minutes I caught the attention of both the US Government and Radical Islam.

Since we are on the subject, even as broke as I am, there was no way I could pass up this deal. Do you have a private VPN for only $2.45 a month and is a pretty impressive thing.

I don't think they are holding this deal for much longer so get in while you can….

pure vpn ad 2017Peace 2017,

JQ

How I Got Into Dealing Drugs

Preamble: Quick note before I get started. Mom, Dad or anyone in my family reading this, please exit the browser now. The events detailed in this post were a long, long time ago. Sandra McCarthy don't get excited and try to drop dime again because I can hardly afford my own drugs these days, much less sell them.

As I had mentioned in my previous post, in moving back and forth across the country, coupled with a computer crash, and nerve damage, I thought I lost the raw 180 pages of “my glory days” from the first draft of the book.

Luckily, I searched my Gmail and found an email I had sent to myself from July of 2016, so I'm fairly sure, I have the whole thing again.

Bad old days, here we come!

Chapter 4: How I Got Into Dealing Drugs

“People don't sell drugs, drugs sell themselves.” – Chris Rock


Like porn, drug dealing was never anything I had considered doing for a living. It found me. Drugs were my chief source of income from the early to late 1990's.

I've always been a stoner. I smoked pot five or six times when I was 13 before I ever got high, but I loved it. When I lived in Connecticut, we'd get our parents to dp us off roller skating, then we would sneak out to the graveyard, smoke joints and play ice hockey. I can remember the first time I actually felt the effects and have been a committed stoner since.

At 18, one of the things I was looking forward to in Georgia was the vast difference in weed prices. In Connecticut, a quarter was $60 and not high quality. In Atlanta, a quarter of weed was $40 and slightly better.

There was a hitch, every year during the end of summer ATL would “go dry, ” and marijuana would be impossible to find. That July I moved there was the worst drought on record. Finding a nug would be like finding a brick of gold.

It was that bad.

Once I had my truck unpacked, my next order of business was scoring a bag. Crazy Chris called a few of his pot dealers, but everyone was out. That year, I can remember the police erecting billboards on the interstate stating, “you think it's dry this year, wait till next year” with a big marijuana leaf and international no sign.

I was frustrated and sober.

One of the first days in Atlanta, I was going to see where my mailbox was in my apartments, this older black guy in a car drove up and asked me if I was looking for weed. I responded, “Hell, yeah.” I had the cash; he took off his hat with a bunch of 1/8th bags rolled up in it and I bought one. He lived in my same apartment complex, gave me his number and said call him if I need more. I strutted back to my building with my first half-price Georgia dirt-weed. Everyone was dumbfounded “the new guy” could find weed, where the locals had failed.

Within an hour I am back at his apartment scoring a bag for Crazy Chris and then a few hours later, for Chris's friends, who I didn't even know. I started making 3 or 4 runs per day to the dealers' place. For a few days, I got the sacks for people without making a profit other than they'd smoke me out or give me a joint. As the week went on, people kept calling, so I proactively bought an ounce. I figured I could sell three-quarters and get my weed free. After another week I started making a lot of “new friends” because I was the only guy who could score weed. Eventually, knowing that business was incoming. I bought 2 ounces, 2 became 3, and soon I'd moved up to a “QP” (quarter pound).


Without knowing it, I had become a drug dealer.

I had a few “regular” quote jobs too. I worked at UPS for a while unloading trucks. I also used to work for my friend “Johnny Cold Beer” installing carpet. I will save those debacles for another chapter, as they were adventures in themselves.

Between working, selling drugs, partying and my girlfriend Beverly that had just moved up from Connecticut, I had my hands full. I never went to many classes at school and dropped out in the first quarter. I already knew some pretty advanced music theory just from years of reading guitar magazines, so everything at school was a refresher.

While I was working at UPS, I met this guy Spencer who had a similar side hustle. He had a better connection than the guy at my apartment building, so together, we graduated from “QPs” to pounds.

Some guys from Kentucky tried to stick us with a few pounds of really moldy dirt weed with maggots and it during the dry spell the second summer. We told them we didn't want this shit, and they could have it back. They refused, Spencer knew one of them had a big grow operation in the back of his house, so one October morning after work, just as it was time for harvest, we went to his greenhouse and chopped down all the flowering weed. We cruised down Peachtree Industrial Highway in rush hour traffic with marijuana plants darting out of every orifice and Spencer's compact car. Keep in mind; this was long before the tolerant medical marijuana years; this was 1991 Georgia: In the eyes of the law we were carrying a life sentence in Reidsville State Penitentiary.

Not long after I quit UPS.

Besides from working with Johnny a bit from time to time, I never had a “real job” again.

After a while, I lost touch with Spencer and was introduced to “Hippy John.” John was involved at a higher-level than Spencer. He was arranging shipments of hundreds of pounds of weed from Mexico. He became my new connection, and I was his right-hand man. We dominated the ATL pot market by having “mids,” which was HQ weed but not as expensive as hydroponic, and far better than the cheaper Mexican dirt weed. The best thing about “mids” was they had the highest profit margin and demand.

By 1995, Dick Delicious wanted to play a lot more shows out-of-town, so I wanted to solidify my income. I had a truck that I barely drove so I sold it for $3000 and picked up 3 ounces of the blow. I didn't know if I'd have any luck selling it, but within 48 hours the cocaine was gone, and I was re-upping. I don't like cocaine that much, so I made for a good coke dealer.

Say what you want about the morality of dealing drugs, but many people have asked me how I got so “good at business.”

I learned it by selling drugs.

From my stint as a drug dealer, I can do even relatively complex math calculations in my head. For example, if I bought X per ounce of blow then I could Break it up into to X, Y and Z at know what the profits were from each. Selling drugs is a service industry, and a big part of it was just being available and in stock.

For a brief time, I tried to sell ecstasy because coke clients often wanted ecstasy as well. What I've noticed is cocaine cancels ecstasy out. You just stopped rolling (that's no fun). I found myself buying a hundred pills and giving 80 of them away to chicks at parties when I was rolling my face-off. I was a shitty ecstasy dealer, so I didn't mess with it long.

The funny thing was for all the drugs I've dealt the only trouble I ever got into was for personal possession. While I was in jail, Hippy John kept supplying my girlfriend with the mids, so I never missed a beat.


When I got out of prison, I briefly considered going straight and getting a real job, but the problem with being a convicted felon on probation is no one wants to hire you. So I jumped back into drugs with both feet, this time with the threat of probation looming over my head.

I went another two years or so slanging hard, during this period that my Internet porn career was starting to take flight. I eventually approached my suppliers and told them that I wanted to get out of the game because I was making more money legally. Because I had always been trustworthy, paid cash, and could move product — they didn't want me to leave. So they made me an offer I couldn't refuse.

No, it wasn't a death threat.

They offered to make my life easier! They set me up so all I would have to was pick up an enormous amount about once per month. I had three guys, I could trust, so I immediately split it up between them. When 30 days or so would pass I would collect my money, restock, rinse and repeat.

Finally, I decided to move to California. I went to my suppliers and told them I was out of the business and this time I meant it. To placate them I made the introduction to the two guys that I had distributing for me, thereby cutting myself out as the middleman. To this day, they are still in the game, as far as I know.


Now with that out-of-the-way, I had a few more loose ends to tie up. I had this big envelope full of cash in my room. To be honest, I never counted it, but I assumed it contained something like $2000 or $3000. My girlfriend and I had mostly used it as drinking money when we went out to bars. The night before I counting it and my estimate was way off! There was over $20,000 that envelope. I had heard of the crime of structuring deposits (anything over $10,000 must be reported to the IRS). So we took the money and deposited it $5000 at a time into separate ATMS.

I never got caught.

Ever since then, I've been a buyer, not a retailer.

And that was how I got into dealing drugs.

JQ

If you would like to help me keep writing so I don't have to keep sneaking into Starbucks for WIFI and can actually order of mocha Frapuccino, donations are always appreciated!

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Join the discussion on Reddit:

How I Got Into Dealing Drugs from Drugs

The Next Four Years Should Be Interesting…

Sorry for the brief hiatus from updating this blog.

My Mac got a virus.

Yes, Macs can get viruses.

I thought I lost the entire 180 pages I had written.

Luckily, I searched my Gmail and found what I think was the last draft of the book.

Get ready for more of the bad old days.

I better get this thing published before Donald Trump gets in office or the moon collides with a half-dead earth.

Whichever comes first.

Till then, enjoy this white lady racist remix.

Now that I cannot play guitar…

I have too much time on my hands.

JQ

Thursday 8/18/2016: The Worst Day of My Life!

They got a name for the winners in the world
I want a name when I lose
They call Alabama the Crimson Tide
Call me Deacon Blues – Steely Dan

Jason Quinlan on guitar in Los AngelesThursday Was The Worst Day of My Life By A Long-Shot!

I've been through a lot of hard shit lately, but this week, by far, has been the most difficult pill to swallow: I am officially done as a guitar player, which has been my life lifelong ambition and one real passion.

photo of ulner nerve surgery
After losing my house in California, I was forced to drive across the country with the few things that I wanted to keep: My guitars, amps, computers and other musical equipment.

One of my big reasons for coming to Atlanta was because, even though I was in bands in LA, I always just joined just to keep up my chops, not because I was particularly into what they were doing musically. I always had to be playing. Even if I wasn't jamming in a band, I would pick up the guitar for at least a half hour a day to practice. Despite all the craziness and my detour into porn, I have always considered myself (above all things) a guitar player. I think if you Google my name it even suggests it. I figured I could move to Atlanta, join a few bands, and slowly start piecing my life back together.

Jason Quinlan practicing guitar in Los Angeles

Of course, I would never have that kind of luck. My drive from Los Angeles to Atlanta was loaded with detours and road construction. I should've known I had bad luck in the mail when on the second day I went to adjust the driver's side mirror, and it just fell into the highway and smashed. The 35-hour drive turned into a 45-hour drive.

By the time I was on my third day, I was still west of the Mississippi. I decided that no matter how long I had to drive, I was going to reach Atlanta. I drove from 10 AM that morning until 1 AM the next day without stopping once, except to refuel and grab a coffee and gummy bears.

By the time I reached Atlanta, I was exhausted, but glad I finally made it. I immediately crashed out for a few hours and then when I woke up, I took my beloved ESP Guitar (which belonged to Jeff Hanneman) and tried to play a few notes. My ring finger was half numb, and I couldn't feel my pinky at all. I had lost all dexterity in both fingers and didn't even have the strength to push the strings down with my left hand.

I'm left-hand dominant; I just play guitar right-handed for some reason.

At first, I blew it off, thinking it was just my body tired from the drive, but after a few days, it didn't get better. I decided to go to a chiropractor, after a few adjustments, he told me if I hadn't seen any improvement at all I should see an orthopedist.

I had already been doing some googling, and I had correctly diagnosed myself with a “compressed Ulnar nerve“.

In the meantime, some asshole found one of my old checkbooks I left at my house in California and thoroughly emptied my bank account to $0 (-$500 actually). I am still trying to straighten that out with the bank.

This past Thursday I went into the Emory Spine and Orthopedic Center to get checked out.

You know you were in trouble when you go to the doctor, and the first thing he says is, “Oh shit!”

Apparently, I have some of “the worst Ulnar nerve damage” he's ever seen. Oddly enough, it was the driver's side door from Los Angeles to Atlanta that did me in. Too many hours of it bumping around on the door compressed something in my elbow and impinged the nerve.


I'm going in for surgery on Tuesday, but it's a “Hail Mary”, best case scenario 18 months to 2 years recovery time, but I'm likely never to recover because the nerve is already dead and the muscle in my hand has already begun to atrophy. I know, the same thing happened to Dave Mustaine, that was in 2002 when he could heal quicker as well.

Of a lot of hard days I've had lately, Thursday was by far the worst.

In case any of you motherfuckers thought I was a slouch on guitar: I could play even the best under the table. I was going to put together a compilation of guitar solos, but it is emotionally too much for me to handle right now. Here's just a taste, follow the link to the video for more:


Discography:

Personal Soundcloud: – https://soundcloud.com/jason-quinlan (a little bit of everything with a lot of unreleased home recordings)

Dick Delicious and Tasty Testicleshttps://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d2O-sDvLN_o&list=PL72xSCDRz8gKY5DPYV-I9_eKqeEcgu8Sn(perhaps the band I'm best known for)

The Despised: https://www.facebook.com/despisedatlanta/ – A Punk band featuring Atlanta comedy kingpin Rodney Leete. I wrote all the hit songs but got none of the credit. Now my music career is over, they say comedy comes from a place of pain, I have plenty of that.

Bath Salts Cannibals: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLflmlm4r2SuRkvL4_Wx93vcEr0LgXxrj2 – Thrash project that was struck down before it had a chance to bud because the other guitarist developed cubital tunnel syndrome (ironically).

The Spo-It's: https://www.reverbnation.com/thespoits – This band has been kicked out of more clubs in the Southeast than GG Allin.

Operation and Asparagus: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLflmlm4r2SuTXjM_GxrcvDwUi9j1eoOrU – These are all home recordings with me playing every instrument. No particular genre but there're a few hits, perhaps best known for “Ballad of Mr. Marcus” and “Real Men Get Drunk On Tuesday.”

Kreephttp://www.kreeponline.com/ – Los Angeles Project with singer Brett from the band Bile.

Rumble Pig Version 1 & Version 2 – only audio/video record avaialable here.

COV – spare your ears, Lamb of God wannabes.

So that's my musical “career” in a nutshell. Maybe I'll try comedy for a minute, if not, I'm going out like my man HST.

It's not like I make money writing this. Donations are always appreciated! 🙂

jason quinlan paypal

‪JQ

Don’t Tell Me I Can’t End My Life!

“I would feel real trapped in this life if I didn't know I could commit suicide at any time.” ― Hunter S. Thompson

Check fraud Jason Quinlan
Just when you think life can't kick you in the teeth any worse, it does.

Quick recap…

1. I was completely screwed over by my piece of shit partners. That was three years ago and the beginning of my descent.

2. 2015 happened.

3. I lost my dream house, and now I'm living homeless after moving back to Atlanta.

4. The day I returned I couldn't feel any sensation in my left fingers; they were weak, and I have lost all motor skills. It winds up I came down with “cubital tunnel syndrome“, most likely caused by having my arm resting on the driver's side door on the three day trip across the country. Despite what all the trolls and the haters are saying in the comments of the blog my three favorite things to do in life is going to the gym, mountain biking and playing guitar. I haven't been able to do any of this stuff in two months, and it's likely I never will again.

5. Today I found out that I have been the victim of check fraud (see above) and what little money I had left is completely gone.

In the meantime, Charlie Sheen, who is easily 1000 times more evil of a person than I ever thought of being is slowly becoming a hero and an AIDS activist and that makes me vomit.

I still have so many more stories to tell of my “glory days,” Some of them are funny, and I probably should stick around long enough to re-account them, but at this point, I don't even feel like I'm living for pretending like there were any “good old days.”

I'm just existing.

I can exist anywhere. Right now I would prefer to be 6 feet below the ground.

If there is anyone out there, please remove the albatross from my neck or just let me die. I am beyond taking it anymore.

As a caveat, I have a bunch of stupid motherfucking trolls that ride my nuts in the comments of this blog. I am sure they will try to blame this on drugs or alcohol. The fact is, I've been basically sober for over a year now (for the most part). I suppose you are going to blame the cubital tunnel syndrome and the check fraud on the drugs?

Before you start doing that, I've made up a nice batch of blue Kool-Aid for you.

Drink it.

If you would like to help me keep writing so I don't have to keep sneaking into Starbucks for WIFI and can actually order of mocha Frapuccino, donations are always appreciated!

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JQ

I Got My DEATH Threat from Dwight Cunningham (aka “Dave From The Luxury Companion”)

A death threat is a threat, often made anonymously, by one person or a group of people to kill another person or groups of people. These threats are often designed to intimidate victims to manipulate their behavior, and thus a death threat can be a form of coercion. – https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Death_threat

dark picture of Jason Quinlan

I'm so excited! I got my first death threat from this blog today, I was going to leave names out of would fuck it – I Got My DEATH Threat from Dwight Cunningham (aka “Dave From The Luxury Companion”)! I don't fabricate stories to try to get attention and unlike Mike South, I don't take down posts and deny they existed. I dish out bowls of 100% #truthsoup! I do have every reason to take this threat seriously, but to be quite honest: If you kill me, it takes the pressure off me to do something I haven't had the courage to do myself. I think about suicide every day anways. If I kill you trying to defend myself, that is a win-win. It has always been a fantasy of mine to take someone else's life.

I'm not going to say who was the one who made the death threat but I should've kept them on speaker phone longer instead of hanging up so I could capture some of his sadistic rant. I will entrust someone with the name of that person, so if I'm killed, they are likely to spend the rest of their miserable life getting ass-raped in prison.

Oh yeah, when you want to start making a death threats, it's probably a good idea to block your caller ID. I'm sure was done from a burner phone but the number is (213) 379-0075. Check on Spokeo if you want:

<br/ ><br/ ><br/ ><br/ >So if you want to have do some fun, bring it. I'm not hiding where I am or my phone number.

If you want to try to guess who it is, just leave their name in the comments.

I haven't lied to you yet, and I won't start now.

If you would like to help me keep writing so I don't have to keep sneaking into Starbucks for WIFI and can actually order of mocha Frapuccino, donations are always appreciated!

jason quinlan paypal

JQ

Tuberculosis and Me

What do Nelson Mandela, George Orwell, Tom Jones, Cat Stevens, Desmond Tutu, Florence Nightingale, Edgar Allan Poe and Jason Quinlan all have in common? – We Are All Tuberculosis Survivors!

jason quinlan in the hospital
 

In March 2008, I had my official “Off Probation” party! I was free — finally free from rednecks cops in South Georgia.

Or was I?

During that time I was in an on-again-off-again relationship with a girl named Yvette. If there is one regret in this book/blog, I should've stayed with Yvette. At the time I was making money hand over fist, I had a mansion in the Hollywood Hills, a condo on the Vegas strip, a Mercedes, was relatively young, in porn, and had bitches on my dick like they had scurvy and I could cum orange juice.

picture of yvette garcia and jason quinlan

It was a lot of temptation: Being young, rich and having lots of shiny objects. I wanted to live that lifestyle for a minute, or that's what I thought. Now, in this late hour, I can tell you none of it means a goddamn thing.

I admit, I went a bit crazy drinking and partying when the whole probation debacle had ended. I would selfishly break up with my girlfriend, so I could go out and go nuts, and then we would always wind up back together.

But just a month later, in April 2009 I started to wake up late at night drenched in mysterious pools of sweat. At first, I thought it was just my nerves or maybe just partying. As the weeks went on, my condition worsened.

I started to Google “night sweats” on Web MD and saw there were three conditions commonly associated with night sweats:

1. Menopause – I could rule that one out!

2. Tuberculosis – Nobody gets that disease anymore!!

3. AIDS – I knew it, I had the monster: The High Five. All those women. All that unprotected sex. I went down to the AIM clinic (the old porn clinic) to get checked for HIV. You'd get your results in 24 hours. That endless night, I mentally Rolodexed every shady piece of pussy I've banged. I narrowed down to 2 or 3 girls that gave me the bug. Fortunately, of the tests came back negative. For a short time, the symptoms abated. I chalked it all up to being psychosomatic.

It wasn't long before the symptoms came back except a worse. I would start sweating the bed so profusely that I would have to change my clothes and sheets two or three times almost every night, during the day I began to feel weak, but oddly enough I never coughed up blood or did anything like your typical tuberculosis patient.

By the end of May, I couldn't ignore the sickness anymore. I was starting to feel run down and losing weight, but still wasn't convinced that it was anything serious, so I went to see a doctor and told him, “I think I have the flu.” He checked my breathing. My left lung obstructed. The doctor said I should go directly to the emergency room and get a chest x-ray. It didn't seem like my left lung, was inflating.

I was so sick that one of my lungs had already collapsed. The funny thing was, the doctors said my lung had been collapsed for about two weeks. Even stranger, I was still able to workout and go on 20-mile-bike rides. I had no clue I was doing it on one lung!

I got to the emergency room and admitted immediately; I still didn't think I was that sick. The medics start running all kinds of tests, X-rays, TB, HIV, bloodwork, immune response, and everything checked out normal, but I keep getting sicker and sicker. That is the thing with TB, once the virus goes “active” it doesn't show up anymore on those pinprick tests like you used to get school. What they are doing is injecting a small amount of tuberculosis to see if your body will resist it. Of course, when your body is loaded with TB the test turned out negative.


Once I have a negative TB and HIV test they began treating me for rare diseases such as Valley Fever. They put me on antibiotics so hard-core it wasn't used in humans anymore. That just made me sicker.

X-rays show that I have a massive effusion in my pleural cavity. They drain the liquid out of me by sticking some spikes in my back. I was awake for this, and it was terrifying, but the infection it still keeps coming. The doctors think it might be TB and order a second round of test that proves inconclusive.

Halfway through my stay, I have to get a major operation (a thoracostomy) to remove the infection from my lungs. The operation is a success, but the infection still keeps coming. If the source of the infection still couldn't identify, so if this didn't stop I was going to go through all of this again

After being in the hospital for 18 days, they think that I way have had and am released. The day after I get home, a blood test used to screen for TB came back positive. To find out if I had TB, I would have to wait six weeks for the results of my biopsy. To be safe, I was placed on a regimen of anti-TB meds.

The odd thing is withing 3-4 days of taking them I felt as if nothing had happened.

In July, the results of my biopsy came back: I had tuberculosis. Worse yet, I've left the hospital with an active case of it. To this very day they quarantine TB patients.

I probably had contracted TB somewhere overseas in my travels or (even more ironically) in prison. TB an airborne disease that anyone can get, one-out-of-3 persons in the world ARE exposed to it; it just requires something to wear you body down (in my case it was alcohol) enough to become active. I also had atypical pleural TB, which isn't in your lungs, so I could't cough and spread it. If you hung out with me in that period you are fine “I wasn't contagious”.

I spent the whole summer of 2009 sober. I wasn't even smoking weed. Honestly, once the TB meds had taken effect, I felt pretty much normal, aside from the pain from the surgery.

If you have been reading this far, you probably realize: I like to drink. I can't help it. I suffer from a form of social anxiety. I am a silent and shy person naturally; it takes some alcohol to bring be out of my shell. When I am sober, even the most mundane of social scenarios make me nervous and fidgety. If you know me, that may seem ridiculous, but it's true.

One of the cruel tricks TB meds play on you is they completely cure the disease (if taken correctly) but destroy your liver at the same time. The state also assigns the health department on you. It's a total pain in the balls, and ironically it was just like probation!

The last 6 months of 2009, I have been getting complete blood workups done once a month and as of December 17, 2009, I was completely cured, and my liver survived. I would always ask the doctor “Are you sure you have the right chart?” when he said everything as OK.

So, I am free to live my life again, right?

Not Really!

JQ

If you would like to help me keep writing so I don't have to keep sneaking into Starbucks for WIFI and can actually order of mocha Frapuccino, donations are always appreciated!

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The Secret Google Algorithm: Explained Exactly (Webmaster Excess 1)

“Being a webmaster is like being a rock star without having to know an instrument.” – Steve Lightspeed (in the Philippines)

The Phoenix forum at Hooters
I remember my first porn convention. “Big John” and I  attended the New Orleans snow . Among the highlights when John sleepwalked into the elevator naked, being told to stand outside wall John pulverized some guys and walked out with a suitcase full of blood and later John pulled some dude's head through the window of a bus. I'm not sure why that happened, but I'm sure he had his reasons.

The conventions are still going, at a much smaller level, there was something known as a “webmaster gathering” that was where two porn webmasters or more would meet anywhere in the world to talk about “business opportunities.” What it boiled down to was a lot of going to whorehouses, drinking and getting more smashed than Lindsay Lohan on New Year's Eve. Although any proposed business could have more easily handled via IM or phone, it seemed better in exotic locations. The “gatherings” started in the US: Los Angeles, Phoenix, New Orleans, Miami, Tampa, etc., but as time went on, and our passports became thicker we would travel to Panama (Cuba), Colombia, Prague, Budapest, Curacao, Mexico, and the Philippines.

Included in “webmaster Excess” are highlights or lowlights of the many years of attending Webmaster gatherings. It seemed that during the boom years of porn which (which were from around 1999 to 2008) I'm not even sure which tale to tell be until I found what I'm about to show you.

Here is a little-known fact. Many may not know. The most important seminars at conventions are held at around 5AM to exclusive private groups.

During this workshop, I accidentally spilled the beans on the entire Google algorithm to a small select group of webmasters.

(you might want to enlarge this)

The real secret behind the Google algorithm
The real secret behind the Google algorithm

FIGURE A: Represents the highly guarded Google search technology in action.

FIGURE B: Represents my nuts doing the windmill to the left. The workings of FIGURE A are determined by which way my nuts are doing the windmill at the time. Many in the SEO community believe that when my nuts are windmilling to the left; highly optimized search terms tend to get better ranking.

FIGURE C: Represents the SERPs (Search Engine Result Pages) – you will notice in FIGURE B that my nuts are windmilling to the left and highly sought after search terms have been pushed to the top.

FIGURE D: Represents the rest of the SEO community speculating on the direction of my nuts and optimizing their pages accordingly.

There you have it – the secret Google algorithm explained. Who says you can never find the good shit on blogs?

I am leaving this link to my PayPal as I do with every blog. I am not seeking sympathy, If you want to support or enjoy my writing my Amazon affiliate links have generated a grand total of about $3. 🙁 That being said, donations are always appreciated.

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