Loretta Nall

Snoring and contemplating why shit stinks

noreply@blogger.com (Loretta Nall) — Sun, 25 Jan 2015 17:11:00 +0000

So today I feel really, really rotten. Was up all nite with a backache so bad I was nearly crying. My fucking box spring is neither box nor spring but instead some sort of Medieval torture device constructed by Satan himself. It's made out of what feels like 1x4' s....one for every disc in my back I'd swear to it. My mattress might as well not be there for all the damn good it does. A bed of nails ain't got Jack shit on this one. So I tossed and turned all nite long. About one I turned my head to the foot hoping for some relief (but wouldn't you know it that end is made of the same stuff). In the process of doing so I woke the snoring dragon beside me who quipped up with, "Ain't this side good enough for you?" That very nearly earned him a knee square in the cods. I was soooooo tempted. Knee was in perfect position to pass it off as a withdrawal related spasm. Then of course he dropped right back off to dreamland with no pain to contend with and no withdrawals from addiction to contend with. Nope...he was happier than a pig in shit and fell immediately to snoring again. I spent the next two hours gleefully contemplating smothering him with my fucking pillow. It helped my back...or my head. Anyway he lived to be an ass another day. I cant vouch that he will make it through another nite if he starts snoring again and wakes me up or keeps me awake. I hate snoring if it's being done in my bed and I'm not the one doing it. And yes I'm fully aware that I snore too. But goddammit my snoring don't keep me the fuck awake whereas YOURS does. I often wonder how many people met their end when their insomniac, in pain, and rightfully enraged partner couldn't take it anymore and just smothered the shit out of them in their sleep? I'd bet a bunch. I'd bet even more wound up with mysterious broken ribs from a well placed sharp jab. Those jabs came from the school of "Couldn't go through with the act of smothering my partner." I don't know what school I'm from. I'll let you know tomorrow. I got up at three because laying there was just making me hurt worse and thereby increasing my ever present rage factor. I made coffee and sat and read my absolute most favorite book on earth "The Poisionwood Bible" by Barbara Kingsolver. If you haven't read it you must do so at once. It's about a Baptist Missionary family from Bethlehem Georgia, led by their crazy mean father, who find themselves plunked down smack in the Congo in 1960. They are of course tasked with "educating the heathen Tribes of Ham in the way that Jesus would have them go." Who do you think gets educated? The book is a scream from almost page one. Always makes me laugh...even when I feel my worst. You'll love it. About seven I cooked breakfast for everyone and served my patient. About 7:30 Mr. Good Nights Sleep comes sauntering in like the world was his oyster...yawning and stretching and scratching and just generally rubbing my nose in it. You know how people who slept well do. He was lucky I'd already put the butcher knife down. I decided I might ought to try stretching out for a minute before someone,and I'm not saying who, got hurt. So in the interest of the safety of all who live here that's what I did. And I magically managed to get comfortable enough to doze off. I had just reached that drifty, dreamy, floaty stage where actual sleep is on the descent...where you can taste it. Yea, you exactly what I'm talking about. And guess what happened? My boyfriend shakes me awake and tells me the patient has to shit. OH. MY. GOD. ANYTHING. BUT. THAT! To be woken up with those dreaded words was nearly more than I could take. I woulda rather have been told the fucking house was on fire. At least then I wouldn't have been assaulted by the smell of someone else's shit. But sadly the house wasn't on fire and the stink of shit was on the menu of never-ending delights in store for Me today and there was nothing to do but get up, snap on the gloves, grab the God cursed "bullets" and get to inserting. So that's what I did. I once again for about the billionth time wished for a biohazard suit complete with its own closed source oxygen supply. I hate the smell of shit in general, who doesn't? But why is it the smell of someone else's shit is so much more overpowering and vomit inducing than your own shit? Just why is that? Anyway, that's been my day thus far. And it's still real early. Ain't life grand

Loretta, where the fuck have you been?

noreply@blogger.com (Loretta Nall) — Sun, 18 Jan 2015 16:41:00 +0000

I've been largely absent from the internet and public life for something like three years now. That changes today. I apologize to my fans, followers and friends for my untimely disappearance with no explanation. Sometimes life gets so fucked up you just kinda have to drop out for a little while and take stock and get your shit together. That's what I had to do. This posting is going to be a purge of all the garbage that I've been living with and kept inside. When you finish reading it you'll understand why I kept my problems to myself. So, where to start? How about with the truth of when my life started getting off track. Let's go back to 2007. Two words for you.... OPIATE ADDICTION One morning I was taking my German Shepherd out for a walk. I stepped off the bottom step wrong and broke my foot. I have osteoporosis so I break bones fairly easily. Up until I broke my foot I was able to manage my pain pretty well with cannabis. But although cannabis is great for some kinds of pain it isn't so great for a broken bone. That shit hurts. No two ways about it. So I went to the ER and was prescribed 120 10 mg Percocet. Now, I'd taken opiates for pain in the past after childbirth and surgeries and never developed a problem with them. Had been administered Dalaudid IV when I had my appendix out. No problems developed. Had taken lortabs after having my tubes tied. Hated them because they made me itch and made me nauseous. Never ever thought I'd become dependent on an opiate. Never planned to. Who the fuck does, right? But from that first 10 mg Percocet it was a love affair. The Dr. kept prescribing them long after it was necessary and so I kept taking them long after it was necessary. I remember the moment I knew I had a serious problem. I woke up in the middle of the night with goose skin and sneezing. And I knew. From that point on my entire life descended into the bottomless pit of addiction. Nothing mattereHhhhd to me but getting my next pill. I spent every penny I could get my hands on on pills. I spent every day chasing the shit down when my prescription ran out. And my Dr. had to know I was hooked. Who.the hell needs 120 10 mg Percocet 6 months after a broken foot has healed? But he kept' prescribing them. And I kept eating them. Then my Dr. moved away and I was left with no legal way o acquire them. So I resorted to illegal means. This went on until 2012. Eventually I ran out of money. And when that happened I started thinking about doing crazy shit like knocking over pharmacies or hunting down heroin. And those thoughts scared the living fuck out of me. I'm not that kind of person. I'd never rob anyone and the thought of even touching heroin almost made me sick. I realized I had to seek help. I looked into methadone but two things kept me from going to a methadone clinic. It was cost prohibitive because you have to pay daily and I would have had to travel 120 round trip daily for 90 days before I would be allowed to take my script home with me. Plus, that's some seriously dangerous shit and I was trying to live, not die. I heard about Suboxone. I researched and decided it was the best solution for me. I picked up the phone and called Dr. Jimmy Blake in Birmingham who runs a suboxone clinic and also happened to be a friend of mine and set up an appointment. This was in Nov. 2012. That was the right choice for me. Jimmy wasn't just my doctor he was my friend and I needed one right then. Under his care I was able to get a handle on my out of control addiction and regain my self respect and start getting my life back in order. I was also strongly encouraged to lose the weight I'd gained while in the throes of addiction. When I started seeing Jimmy I weighed 230. I'm now down to 170 and holding. Suboxone was a miracle drug for me. It controlled my pain and it was so goddamn strong there was absolutely zero compulsion to abuse it. One strip and I was on the nod for hours. I decided a whole strip was way too much for me and dropped myself to a half strip a day. Another great thing about Suboxone is that when my dosage was decreased I never noticed. When I was eating 20 pills a day and could only get 8 I felt it. I never felt that with suboxone. I continued making the biweekly trips to Birmingham until a transportation issue came up and I could no longer get there. I switched to a local doctor. Huge mistake. I went one time and was drug tested. It never occurred to me that I would be. Never had been up to that point. Of course I was positive for cannabis. At this doctor's hole in the fucking wall clinic in Dadeville AL cash ruled. On my only visit I learned they would not accept any form of insurance even if you had insurance that covered it. I didn't...but that was beside the damn point. Each visit cost a whopping $125. Almost twice what I had been paying. They also required that someone else drive you to the clinic and be your "sponsor". The only person I had to do that was the elderly gentleman I had recently moved in with to take care of. He was happy to help. So, after I pissed in a cup I went in a trashy little room and waited. Suddenly I overheard the nurse and everyone from the front office discussing my pee results. And I mean everyone. And that wasn't even the worst. The "doctor" came in and started raising hell about my drug test. Then he went up front and brought the old man I take care of back into my exam room and shared my results with him. I told him I had not fucking consented to him sharing my information with his entire office staff or the gentleman who had brought me and that doing so was highly illegal. The bastard looked at me and told me I needed to go to church. I informed him I was an Atheist and he started preaching. I told him I was there for treatment and when I wanted a sermon I could get one for free but that I didnt pay him $125 so he could proselytize to me. He said he wasn't going to treat me unless I came back for five weeks in a row with $125 in my pocket each time and a clean drug test which would cost Me an additional $100. I told him I made $9 an hour and there was no way I could afford that. He wrote me a script for 15 suboxone. I made that shit last for two months. And I never went back to that doctor. Sadly he's the only one in close proximity to me. His practice is all about money. I know three people who have been seeing him for over six years and he still prescribes 90 strips a month to each of them. He has not tried to step them down at all. He's as bad as a pill mill doctor. After that disaster I once again had to resort to illegal means to get my strips. It wasn't hard when you have a doctor like that prescribing that much to all his patients. That stuff is everywhere. And since one strip will last me a week it was a fuck of a lot cheaper to buy four strips for $80 than have to spend $225 weekly then pay for my strips on top of that. Legal? Hell no. But sometimes you have to break the law in order to survive. I'm alive and I haven't robbed anyone and I haven't shot heroin so it was worth it to me. And I've never cared much for laws that restrict what I put in my body anyway. But last week I ran into a huge problem. I couldn't find anyone with a strip. I've said for along time that I would never even try to come off suboxone. It works for me. The two most frightening words in the English language to me are opiate withdrawal. If you've ever been through it you know how God fucking monstrously awful it is. The sneezing, the waterworks nose, the puking, the cramps, goose skin and worst of all....firecracker ass. The unrelenting insomnia. The restless legs. Not to mention the depression. Oh the miserable awful depression. I'd said I'd rather die than face that shit. But today is day six with no opiates whatsoever. I found something non-addictive that has kept the worst of the withdrawal symptoms at bay. And I can sleep. And friends and neighbors I think in another few days I will finally have this monkey off my back. I can't believe how easy it's been up to this point. All I know is I feel ok today. No firecracker ass. None of anything that I feared. I'm sick of being in bondage to this shit. I want my life back and I'm going to get it. Keep me in your thoughts in case it gets worse. I'm determined to come off. Some people may say that I shouldn't be so honest about my addiction. My critics will say that marijuana led me to opiates. Bullshit. A broken foot led me to opiates and a doctor who knew better than to keep prescribing them led me to addiction. I take responsibility too. I could have stopped going to the doctor and getting them. But it was too late for that in my case. My brain is hard wired for addiction. Runs in my family. And once opiates sink their claws into some people there's no looking back. I'm one of those people. At least I have the testicular fortitude to share my trials and tribulations with you. Took me a while to rediscover my balls, true dat, but now that I've found them again nothing will stop me from sharing my life with those who want to know. I hope my sharing helps give courage to someone else struggling with opiate addiction. It can happen to anyone. And does. Every day. And there's no shame in it. Talking about it helps. Hiding it hurts and leads you to isolation. I know. I lost everything. Every friend I had I pushed away. Every penny I had I lost. All the activism I did that meant so much to me and others fell by the wayside. I lost myself. I lost my personality. Worst of all I lost my sense of humor. Life ceased to be amusing. I miss that most of all. Humor. Best medicine in the world. This is going to be the end of part one in a series of articles I'm going to write about where I've been and what I've been doing. Part two will be about ending my 23 year marriage and mental illness. Look for that one tomorrow possibly. Thanks for reading and stay tuned.

Compliance through pain

noreply@blogger.com (Loretta Nall) — Mon, 11 Jun 2012 15:31:00 +0000

Compliance through infliction of Pain At the store where I work sheriffs deputies regularly stop in to get free drinks and such. It's no big secret that I do not like cops on general principal. I don't like the way they swagger around like they own the world and everything in it, including you. I hate the way their deadly weapons squeak and jingle when they swagger. Everything about them just sets my teeth on edge and gives me instant piss off. When I see one I go into instant activist mode. I can't help it. I'm civil to them because I have to be. If you work with the public then you have to attempt to be civil to everyone. Sometimes that is difficult, at best. What happened at the store the other night merely reinforces my theory that 99% of cops are ignorant, power-tripping, high school diploma holding at best, assholes who ain't shit without that badge and gun. I've met a few good ones but not enough to make me think there is any sort of reasonable balance between good and bad among the ranks. My side of the store, the grill side, closes at 7pm on Sunday, 8 pm Mon- Thurs and 9 pm on Fri and Sat. We start breaking down thirty minutes before closing time and shut the grill down. Anything that is left is all moved to one steamer and we serve from that if someone comes in and wants a hamburger or a hotdog. What is leftover goes home with employees, if we want it, or into a bag for the guy who comes by to get it for his dog. Well, the other night two deputies came in at closing time. I was getting ready to take out the trash and mop and had already put the remaining food into the doggie bag. One deputy got what he wanted from the store side. The other one came halfway over to my counter, not at the register where a normal person places and order, and announced that the wanted a hamburger. I said I was sorry but he was too late because the grill closed thirty minutes ago. He looks at me, smiles and very casually his hand moves down to his gun belt, unsnaps a holster and he pulls out his fucking taser and points it in my general direction. I looked him dead in the eye and said, "I wish you fucking would." He responded, "Oh, so it's been a day like that?" I replied, "No, my day was fine til you walked in. I can dig you a hamburger out of the doggie slop bag if you want one that bad." Instead of responding he puts his potentially lethal toy away and heads back to the other side of the store. I was sorely tempted to point him in the direction of the donut aisle, but refrained. He'd already proven himself, unprofessional and most assuredly unstable and, while the makers of the Taser and the cops who love to use them for the least provocation, would swear before the very throne of God that they are non-lethal, last time I checked there were over 500 deaths in the US directly attributed to their use. My ticker is a little funny and I just didn't feel like dying that night over a fucking hamburger. You know, you sort of expect that kind of idiotic behavior from street punks and robbers. Criminals. But more and more it's the cops acting like thugs. Every day it gets harder to tell the difference between the two groups. The only difference that's clear is that one group of thugs has government sanction and government power backing it up and the other does not. I guess what this particular punk mother fucker with a badge and a gun did passes for cop humor. But I'm not a cop and I didn't find it a bit funny. So, here's a bit of advice to cops who might read this, something they should have learned at their mothers knee and had reinforced in cop school; Don't pull it out unless you intend to use it. Tasers aren't toys any more than guns are toys. They are weapons. They can and do kill. Also, electrocuting me will not make me make you a hamburger. Why, it's even less effective than saying, "Make me a sammige, bitch." And you should never, ever, piss off the cook. That night the taser happy cop decided on a box of chicken bites that had been under the lamp for a stretch. I hope they gave him salmonella

Fringe candidates party on beyond the mainstream

noreply@blogger.com (Loretta Nall) — Fri, 09 Mar 2012 19:40:00 +0000

Yesterday a fantastic article by Patrick Hruby was published in the very conservative Washington Times about third parties and the difficulty we have breaking through the media and various campaing laws in different states. A large part of this article features my 2006 campaing for Governor of Alabama. It's a great article which showcases the positive and lasting contributions third parties have made in American politics. Please go read

Fringe candidates party on beyond The mainstream

My part starts on page 3.

Many thanks to Patrick Hruby for his flattery and knocking this one out of the park.

A frightening picture of drug war reality

noreply@blogger.com (Loretta Nall) — Fri, 03 Feb 2012 00:37:00 +0000

In Andalusia, Alabama 16 people have enterEd guilty pleas for various crimes and offenses.

One of those people, Christopher David Hughes, 32, plead guilty to "sexually abusing an intellectually disabled female family member, He has remained incarcerated in the Covington County Jail since his arrest in May."

The paper goes on to inform us that Mr. Hughes had previously been convicted and incarcerated for raping a 15 year old girl.

And the judge and prosecutor agreed on a deal whereby Mr. Hughes will serve one year in prison. For raping an intellectually disabled female relative.

Meanwhile nine of the remaining guilty pleas were from drug offenders. No mention of violence connected with their crimes of possession or manufacturing and certainly no mentally disabled rape victims in their wake. Yet the minimum sentence for this group was nearly three years and the maximum was 25 years on two drug charges.

What's wrong with this picture? Who are you more afraid of walking the streets? The guy who occasionally likes to smoke a joint or the guy who preys upon defenseless handicapped girls?

If I were in Andalusia I'd make it a point to let the judge and prosecutor know just how out of line these sentences are and be looking for their replacements come next election. I will be writing a letter tonight. I hope you will join me.

Child rapist gets one year, drug offenders get up to 25

Here is a quote from the esteemed Walt Merrell District Attorney of Covington county Alabama where all of this took place. The quote is from a story a few months back about how he planned to cage all drug users.

“(Those arrested) have preyed on the young, the weak and the afflicted for long enough,” Merrell said. “The act of selling drugs is sub human, and we won’t tolerate it. Predators belong in a cage, and that’s where we intend to put anyone who sells drugs.”

– Walt Merrell
District Attorney
Covington Co, AL
07/07/11
334-469-5744

Please take a moment and let Mr. Merrell know what you think about his practices.

noreply@blogger.com (Loretta Nall) — Sun, 22 Jan 2012 16:14:00 +0000

I have an OpEd in today's Birmingham News about HB25 the medical marijuana bill which has been prefiled in the Alabama House.

Alabama must enact law for medicinal Marijuana use

Please read, comment and pass along.

Then use this form to determine who your representatives in Montgomery are and contact them and ask for their support on HB25.

Alabama House Roster

Medical Marijuana bill filed in Alabama House

noreply@blogger.com (Loretta Nall) — Fri, 13 Jan 2012 14:47:00 +0000

Rep. Patricia Todd has pre-filed the Michael Phillips Comapssionate Care Act, the medical marijuana bill in Alabama. The number is HB25
It has been assigned to health committee. Please contact your legislators and ask them to support safe access to medical marijuana in Alabama by voting YES on HB25. Legislative contact information is here

The Lucifer Pig

noreply@blogger.com (Loretta Nall) — Tue, 11 Oct 2011 04:07:00 +0000

So, I've got this crazy pig, a Vietnamese pot bellied pig, a male, an intact male, and around this time of year for the last two years he gets downright unmanageable. Oh yeah he's a LARGE pig. I'd put him at least 150. He resembles a mini-tank...or a bulldozer....or maybe a rhinoceros is a more apt description. He has large tusks sticking out each side of his jaw. Sharp ones! He has huge teeth and an huge mouth and he is stronger than an ox.

Now, nine months out of the year he's a really friendly guy. Follows us around the yard and wants belly rubs. But when fall rolls around he becomes a horny, disgusting lucifer of a pig. The bastard is downright scary and dangerous. I should have had him cut when he was young but the vet wouldn't do it and the proscribed method was to find an old farmer who knew how to wield a razor blade. This method involved no anesthesia and I just couldn't subject him to that. I cannot overstate how much I regret that unfortunate decision.

Fall is apparently mating season for pot bellied pigs, regardless of whether or not another pig of the opposite sex is nearby. There isn't a female pig anywhere near my house so the male pig, being the incredibly intelligent animal that he is, has found multiple substitutes for his absent piggy partner. Last year it was logs of firewood and a couple of empty white barrels. When he can get one he has settled for feed buckets. Pretty much anything with a round shape that isn't cemented down will do as a stand in for the real thing.

This season the lucky girl is the ever lovely rectangular garbage can with wheels. You know, the ones that have to be placed at the end of a drive on trash day? Those.

Since fall rolled around poor ol piggy has fallen very hard in lust with the trash cans of two neighbors. Since the trash picks up on my side of the street all the cans have to be placed on that side. When piggy hears them rolling down the driveways destined for his side of the road he squeals with delight. He starts plotting. Gets very busy. And within minutes he has bitten through the chain link fence and worked himself free. We can't keep him penned up on trash day short of a damn underground concrete bunker. I'd put money on him even getting out of that when his gals stand so invitingly at the end of the driveway.

And then, by god, come Friday morning it's on. And he's on....the trash cans.

As soon as the truck empties them and makes them easier to roll around and have his way with them, he shoots down the driveway like a pig with an ACME rocket attached to his ass and right there in front of God and everybody he proceeds to make passionate love to his trash can. Doesn't matter which one he gets to first. Apparently he is equally fond of both. He knocks it down, rolls it around, mounts it from all sides and has his undisputed way with it. With people driving and neighbors with small impressionable children looking on he sprays his nasty piggy jizz into every orifice of his trash can gal all the while squealing and grunting with delight. The wheels, the underside, the handle, he opens the top and gives the inside a good working over too. No can left unjizzed is the motto of this particular pig. And he can go at it for hours. Its like Ron Jeremy eat your heart out.

Last week he got my neighbor from across the streets can and rolled it into the woods. I didn't see it until a few days later. I retrieved it and washed it off and had my husband walk it back over to their house. They weren't home so he was spared the humiliation of offering an explanation. However, this past Friday they saw me at the mailbox and I had to offer up the explanation. Not fun. They are awesome people though, and having seen him go at it with one round object or another over the last few years, including the large plastic pumpkin belonging to the neighbor on my side of the street, they have developed a sense of humor about it. After we returned the can we were able to quarantine and barricade the bacony love machine....until this Friday morning anyway. And that's when all he'll broke loose.

One minute he is seemingly secure in his chain link fence and the next thing you hear is the loud bumping sound of him rolling around one of his bulky girlfriends. Then you have to go tearing out the door and down the driveway to try and wrestle one of his girls away from him. And that, my friends is no easy task. As I mentioned earlier he's a large, strong animal with huge teeth and he uses all of those attributes to keep anyone from disentangling him from his love interest. This Friday my husband went down and took the first can away from him. The pig fought him all the way back up the drive way. Piggy will bite in and hold on. And it's not like you can kick him off. You'd be apt to lose a foot. It's not like you can physically restrain him in any way at all. He's shaped like a muscular bullet and there is no where to grab hold of him. And even if you could grab hold of him no one wants to touch the filthy genetic material slime covered mean bastard anyway. ICK!!!

Well, as I said, my husband gets the first can away and eventually piggy returns to his own yard. We tried to trick him into going up. He was having none of it. None. Of. It. And all we could do is wait for round two. We didn't have to wait long either. Directly we heard the hollow booming sound of the empty can being raped from the bottom of the driveway.

Now, I had just taken a shower and was on my way somewhere and didn't want to be anywhere the foulness of that beast. I thought, "Dammit I'm gonna get hog shit on my shoes and goo no telling where else on my person". I did not want to help. But since my husband did the first one alone I agreed, very reluctantly, to help him this go round.

Now on the first disentangling adventure none of the neighbors were out and about. Not so lucky this go round. My neighbor Budrow, a large and humorous black man with a deep voice and manner of speaking that always makes him sound like he's eating a large greasy pork chop, had ventured out to sit on his porch. Piggy had the other neighbors barrel just off the side of the road and...well you know what he was doing. At first my husband and I just stood there trying to devise a way to get the can away from him safely. The can was down a mild embankment covered with saw briers and slicker than goose shit. No good footing was to be had and the last thing on earth either of us wanted was to lose our footing and fall victim to the sexual advances, hell let's be really honest...it would have been sexual assault, of this rampaging, oinking, squealing horror. So, no going down the embankment to get it. Finally I retrieved a large stick from the truck and from a safe distance I was able to push and prod the pig off enough for my husband to grab the horribly defiled can and sprint for the damn truck to safety.

All the while this spectacle is unfolding I can hear my neighbor howling and snorting laughter on his front porch. Right in the middle of our trying to get the can my neighbor hollers out, "Terry and Loretta das da horniest pig ah eva did see." After the had exhausted his laughter over that witticism he hollers out, "Dat dar pig coulda been a porn star." And when he says porn it comes out sounding like it rhymes with cone. It's like pawn star.

When he said that I nearly fell down in the middle of the road laughing. If anything had been coming I would have been run over. There was no getting control over myself at that point because I am a sucker for humor, even sometimes at my on expense, and I'm sorry but that shit was funny.

I told my neighbor I had his can and would bring it back once it had been de-pigged. By this time piggy had run off to destination unknown and we thought since we now had both cans we were done with the humiliation at least until next Friday.

Wrong!

The very next day my neighbor drives up in my yard and asks for his trash can back. He also mentions that the sneaky pig has stashed a barrel (one that we had been searching for for months) behind his house in a ditch. He kindly requested that we get the barrel while we were there in an effort to keep piggy out of his yard. So we back the truck down again. My husband gets out and goes over to first get the barrel. Luckily piggy was elsewhere at the time, probably having his way with a tree in the woods or some such thing, so there was no wrestling it away from him. As soon as my husband reaches for the barrel my neighbor hollers out in his 'I'm eating a delicious, greasy pork chop voice, "I woulda had brought dat back to you but after all dat love he been done made to it I ain't wanna touch it."

Now, I like the pig when he isn't on a sexual assault rampage of all inanimate objects not welded, nailed or cemented down, but I've had enough. Enough to the point where if the guy who is supposed to come and relieve me of this terrible burden doesn't hurry, piggy is likely to meet with an unhappy end.

I've always heard that vietnamese pot bellied pigs aren't good to eat. But as a friend so poignantly asked me the other day when I relayed this story, "Well, what in the hell do the Vietnamese do with them?"

When bullies get bullied

noreply@blogger.com (Loretta Nall) — Fri, 07 Oct 2011 23:57:00 +0000

I've just returned from my daughter's school where web had a very lively discussion with the offending teacher from yesterday. Up front I will say that I intended to piss her off so I could see how she would react and then measure how her reaction coincided with my daughters description of how she acts in class. And, wouldn't you just know it....she acted just like my daughter said she would. Beautiful!

When we first got there the assistant principal said right off the bat that this teacher had received some emails asking for permission to use the restroom and that she, the teacher, felt it was harassment. I just nodded my head. I don't think it constitutes harassment. If you work in government or for government in some way, in this case she is a teacher and therefore a state employee, and you do something that outrages the public then they are perfectly within their rights to let you know about it. Her email address is public.

But anyway the asst. Principal said that his discussion with her had gone well and that she was sorry and so forth and so on. He said that, much to his surprise, she had even indicated a willingness to apologize to my daughter in front of the class. Her willingness to apologize implies guilt in my eyes. I told him that was fine but that I still wanted to have a chat with her. Then he invited her in. And things got complicated. Quick.

I don't remember exactly what I said first. I believe I asked her to explain to me why she felt the need to make such a big deal out of a request to use the restroom. I told her I could maybe understand her reaction if there was a history of my daughter abusing bathroom privileges. There isn't. And even if there was it would not excuse the teacher's behavior. Something to put her on the defensive for sure. Could have been the fact that I went in with the intent to handle things like a prosecutor. I deposed the defendant. Before the meeting I had my daughter write down everything she remembered from yesterday. I then proceeded to go down the list and ask the teacher if she had said those things.

"Did you tell my daughter that there is no way she had to use the restroom right after the bell rang but not before? If so, then explain how you are more attuned to her biological functions than she is?"

I asked her, "After my daughter returned from the restroom did you ask her in front of everyone if she knew how to use the bathroom?"

I asked her if after my daughter returned from the restroom and was obviously in the throes of a panic attack did she check on her or ask if she needed the nurse. She claims she did. My daughter says differently.

She denied saying any of that. Just flat denied it. Which is exactly what I expected. But she wasn't convincing.

At one point I asked her that after my daughter returned from the restroom did my daughter inform her that there should be an email in her box concerning restroom breaks? She said yes. I asked her if she then checked her email to confirm that and she said yes. I asked her if she, after reading the email, apologized to my daughter for her conduct and she said yes.

My daughter said no, that what actually happened was that the teacher subjected her to further ridicule in front of the class and even kept her after class to lecture her some more. Later on I brought the issue of the email up again and the teacher completely changed her story and denied that my daughter ever said anything about a possible email from the nurse. I reminded her that only a few minutes before she had answered yes to those questions. She denied ever answering yes.

Now, I may or may not have a recording of the entire exchange :) Plus, she said all of that in front of a witness.

I brought up previous incidents that my daughter has shared with me involving this teacher. Namely her propensity to invade personal space and take the liberty of touching my daughter. She likes to put her hand on the student's shoulders and squeeze. I explained that my daughter does not like to be touched if she hasn't invited anyone to touch her. Further, I told her that I see that form of touch as intimidation because it implies that someone else has physical power over your person. I informed her that she is never again to lay one finger on my daughter. She seemed very offended and put off and said, "Well I can promise you
that I will never touch her again!"

"Good then we understand each other," I said.

I then mentioned what my daughter told me a few weeks ago about an altercation she had with this teacher regarding an admission slip. After a student is absent, in order to get back into class, they have to have an admission slip from the office. The excuse for the absence had not made it to the office yet and my daughter thought it had to be there in order to be given an admission slip. When she tried to explain this to the teacher the teacher started her usual routine of ridicule and humiliation in front of the class.

When I asked the teacher if this happened she denied ridiculing my daughter and then immediately contradicted herself by saying out loud and in front of me, "I asked her how she ever made it to 9th grade without knowing what an admission slip is."

For the record my daughter is an honor student and unless it has changed very recently turning in admission slips has nothing to do with whether or not a student passes to the next grade.

Then I said, "And you don't think saying something like that in that manner and tone in front of the whole class is ridiculing or humiliating...condescending maybe? Hateful?"

She didn't. I opined that we obviously have very different views on what constitutes being ridiculing, humiliating, rude and hateful. It was beautiful for her to just come right out and be herself. It was exactly what I wanted her to do. Show her true colors.

Basically she claimed my daughter was rude and hateful and was lying about everything and that she herself was an unsoiled angel in all of this. I told her that I don't buy that because, as far as teachers go, I never get complaints about my daughter, that all I ever get is praise about how polite she is, how helpful she is, how mature she is, what a joy she is to have in class etc....

"Well she was rude to me," she said.

My daughter said, "I wasn't rude to you. I just asked for permission to go to the restroom and you blew up at me in front of the whole class."

Then this crazy whack job all of a sudden said to my daughter "I can still write you up right now!"

And boy howdy that did not go over well with me. I looked at her and said, "You do that but let me remind you that teachers no longer have tenure in Alabama."

She said, "Are you threatening me?" (Well, duh?)

My daughter piped up and said, "Well you just threatened me."

I couldn't believe the teacher was foolish enough to threaten my daughter with a write up a day after the fact and while we were sitting in the office discussing the teachers hateful nature and bullying ways. It was her final attempt to hang on to her imaginary authority. And it was a colossal mistake.

I said, "You can take it however you like...I'm merely pointing out the fact that you no longer have tenure and you'd do well to remember it."

At this point the assistant principal saw that there would be no resolution. He asked me what I wanted to do and I told him that I wished to file a formal complaint and that I was prepared to take it to the top if the education food chain. He again mentioned that the teacher had offered to apologize in front of the class and did we still want that. Before I could say anything my daughter spoke up and said, "I don't want her apology because it wouldn't be sincere." I concurred and stated that her speaking some empty words would not prevent this from happening again. At the point the teacher got up and stormed out. It was hard to keep from giggling...but somehow I managed it.

During further discussion with the assistant principal he pointed out that I hadn't really been nice and had been more than a little provocative. I admitted to as much. My whole intention was to push the teachers buttons and see how she would react. And she did just what I thought she would. Fell right into my trap.

As we got up to leave he asked my daughter if she was checking in. I told him that she would not be checking in (she was very upset) and that she also wouldn't be marching with the band tonight, mainly for medical reasons. I said we would go around to the band room and let the instructor know and the assistant principal said, "Mrs. Nall after that confrontation I think it would be unwise for me to allow you to go anywhere on campus unsupervised." I found that highly amusing.

I held up my hands and said, "I am unarmed except for my tongue." But, in the end, I accepted his offer to inform the band instructor that my daughter would not be there tonight.

Now on Monday I have to go back to the school and start the formal complaint process. This isn't over. And while it may sound odd to some of you I must admit that I had more fun today than I've had in months. There is nothing quite as satisfying and getting to bully a bully. There is nothing like making someone lose their composure like I made that teacher lose hers. I really should have gone to law school.

Is it school or prison?

noreply@blogger.com (Loretta Nall) — Thu, 06 Oct 2011 18:39:00 +0000

Please GO HERE and ask Mrs. Hand for permission to use the restroom. Click the permission link to send her an email request.

It gets harder every day to distinguish between public school and prison. Today has been one of those days.

My daughter has been having alot of medical problems recently. After visit to the doctor yesterday and a medication change I sent a note to the school this morning instructing all her teachers to allow her as many restroom breaks as she needs and to not ask any questions about it. When she got to school this morning she gave my note to the school nurse who converted it into an email and sent out to all teachers. I didn't expect any problems. I mean my instructions were damn clear. If my child expresses a need to go to the restroom then she is to be allowed to do so. End of story.

However, there is this one old bat who can't follow simple instructions. I got an email from my daughter about ten a.m. Asking me to come and pick her up because she had a nasty confrontation with a teacher when she asked to go to the restroom. The bat jumped all over my daughter and humiliated her in front of the entire class about restroom breaks. She said "why didn't you go before the bell rang?" My daughter answered that she didn't have to go then. The bat said "well you know the rules...you have to go before the bell rings." To which my daughter responded that she's sorry but her biological functions aren't on a bell schedule. My god she's not a Pavlov's dog.

My daughter informed her that there was an email in her inbox just waiting to be clicked on that I had sent to school today about restroom breaks. The bat responded that she doesn't have time to check her email, that she has so many other things to do...blah blah blah...even though the asst. Principal said a few minutes ago when I went up there that teachers are instructed to check their email multiple times a day and that they have even been over it multiple times in staff meetings. And if she was sitting in front of her computer (which she was) then why not just check the damn email and avoid humiliating my daughter and getting me up her ass? I guarantee checking the email would have been the wiser course of action. But too late for that now.

Further, the old bat started telling my daughter that she needs to learn to do what she's told and to just sit down and shut up. Now, I don't know about other people but I did not raise my kids to sit down and shut up when other people tell them to. I did not raise them to bow authority just for the sake of bowing. I raised them to speak up for what is right and to always stand up for themselves. Sit down, shut up and do what you're told is NOT in our vocabulary. Never will be. I'm not the kind of parent who addresses school problems by siding with the oppressors and telling them to "whoop their ass and send them back to class". In fact, I am adamantly opposed to corporal punishment. That isn't an issue in this case but I'm trying to make the point that I am not the average parent and my kids aren't the average kids. And I'm proud of that.

So I called the school and asked to speak to this old bat. She was unavailable. So I talked to the assistant principal about this incident. He told me he could meet with me and the bat in the morning. I told him that I was on my way to the school right then. When I got there my daughter was in his office explaining what happened. The first thing I said to her and the assistant principal was "The next time any teacher denies your request to go to the bathroom you have my permission to drop trou and take a massive shit on their desk." Then I told the assistant principal that not even in prison are people required to ask for permission to take care of biological functions.

He was very nice and accommodating. He told my daughter that next time permission for a restroom break is denied that she can just walk out and go anyway and then they can deal with the fallout afterward. I like the idea of her shitting on the teachers desk much more as an act of civil disobedience...but I guess it is impractical. Would get the fucking point across though.

Tomorrow at 11 I am going back to the school to meet with the assistant principal and this hateful bat. The assistant principal warned me that she is stubborn. I say she has no idea what stubborn is as she hasn't tangled with me yet. I told him that I want her to be forced to apologize in front of the entire class since she saw fit to humiliate my daughter in front of the entire class. He said I may not get that. I then told him I'd be happy to remind her that teachers no longer have tenure and that her job is not guaranteed. If I don't get what I want then I will take it all the way to the state board of education.

Be ready for fireworks!

Don't Touch Me

noreply@blogger.com (Loretta Nall) — Wed, 05 Oct 2011 23:29:00 +0000

Today after class I stopped off at a service station to pick up a few things. I was wearing my Vancouver Canucks jersey that Marc Emery gave me and also my STOP THE DRUG WAR backpack that I use to carry all my school books. The service station where I stopped is close to a State Trooper post. And as it happened there was an unmarked car there with a state tag on it. The man driving the car held the door for me. I didn't think anything about it. As I was at the register paying for my items he comes up behind me, puts his hand on my shoulder and asks, "What kind of hockey player are you?"

I looked at him and said "I don't play hockey." I was so stunned that he had touched me it was all I could think to say. And it was a stupid question. Had I not been stunned by his bold act I would have told him to take his fucking hand off me. Where does this guy get off thinking he has the right to touch anyone he isn't currently placing under arrest? I can't stand for my personal space to be invaded by anyone who isn't family or close friend. I most especially hate it when it is a cop using touch as a way to intimidate. And he only did it because he didn't like my backpack. What a fuck wad!

Unless I invite you to do so it is unwise to touch me. I value my personal space and will respect yours.

Fake Reefer Madness

noreply@blogger.com (Loretta Nall) — Fri, 30 Sep 2011 16:58:00 +0000

A few weeks ago members of the Alabama Dept. of Public Health, Alabama Beverage Control and anguished parents who have recently lost kids to suicide came together in Montgomery to try and pin the blame for those suicides on what the media refers to as 'fake marijuana'. The products in question are also known under the brand names of 'Spice', K-2, Black Magic etc... and can be purchased legally in just about any convenience store and tobacco shop across the state. For the record I have not and do not use them and do not recommend that anyone else use them either. About the only point I agree on with those who are having this discussion is that we do not know enough about these substances to assume they are safe. That doesn't mean I want them banned. I contend that if marijuana were legal then there would be no fake crap on the market to begin with. But, that only counts if it is proven that the fake crap caused the suicides.

Now, yesterday the Anniston Star lead with the following story. Go read it.

Suicides raise concerns over legal compound

In this article the parents of the suicide victims make the claim that use of these products is the only possible explanation for the deaths of their children. The Alabama Beverage Control board is adding fuel to the fire by agreeing with them where no evidence exists to support the claim. And, of course, when I point out these issues and others I am threatened with physical violence, a little boy in blue attempts to intimidate me, I am called names and accused of being insensitive. But no real answers are put forth to my reasonable questions. Not surprising.Loretta Nall: I'm very sorry for this family's loss...however it needs to be pointed out that 1) correlation does not equal causation and 2) that if real marijuana, which is completely safe and a known quantity, were legal then there would be no fake marijuana on the market. It is very sad that this family, who is at the guilt phase of grief where they are looking for someone or something to blame for the tragic death of their son, is being used as pawns in the prohibition game. Shame, shame, shame, on Mike Reese of the ABC for using them to promote his political agenda when they are so incredibly vulnerable.

And apparently that just makes me wrong on principal according to commenter Jessica and all the other hysteria prone folks commenting on this thread. You'll have to read all the comments at the AS website. I'm only using the ones where the participants are at least making an attempt at reasonable discussion.

Loretta Nall: Jessica how exactly am I wrong? Wrong about what? If it were my child I would want empirical evidence as to why my child committed suicide. Not speculation, not knee-jerk reaction based on emotion. Cold hard facts. There is no empirical evidence here. It's time we stopped passing laws and restricting basic freedoms just because it makes someone feel better. There are a thousand possibilities as to why this young man took his own life. Only one possibility is mentioned in this article. 999 others are not. Shouldn't we examine all possibilities before passing laws? Doesn't anyone else want laws passed to be based on scientific facts and only after vigorous public debate, so that all our rights and freedoms guaranteed under the US Constitution are protected? Seems to me like the majority of people participating on this comment thread only want laws passed in order to make themselves feel better....so they can think "well I did something" regardless of whether it was the right thing to do.

Emily Collinsworth responds with : We have evidence! .........

Loretta Nall: Emily what scientific evidence do you have that these products were directly responsible for his death? Many people use these products, yet the majority of them do not commit suicide. Why? What one thing is different in those who take their own lives and those who do not after exposure to these products? Now, if everyone or even a small majority of people who used these products started committing suicide then there would be more of a basis for these claims. But that isn't happening. Correlation does not equal causation. No matter how much one might want it to it does not add up to that. There are many reasons kids take their own lives. All of them horrible. I'm a parent of two teens and I can't imagine anything more devastating than that. But if one of them ever resorted to that I would want to know why...not grab on to the first thing that came to mind, although I admit it would be tempting to do so. In order to prevent suicides we have to know the real reasons it is carried out. In none of these cases do we know. Sure, we could go around and ban products because that's easy. What's hard is asking the tough questions of ourselves and doing the research necessary to come up with the right answer. I also want to know is why the ABC board is involved in anything to do with this fake crap to begin with. It isn't alcohol so why is the ABC involved? Not that they should be involved in alcohol either. IMOP they should not even exist. Additionally, I find it ironically sad that an agency whose sole purpose it to sell and make a profit from one of the deadliest drugs ever known to humankind (alcohol) is pointing fingers and making accusations against any other substance. It's pretty hilarious when you think about it. That very few others make the connection is plain scary. I wonder...did any of these kids who took their own lives ever once drink a beer with or without their parents knowledge? I'd put my money on yes. Yet, no one is blaming the ABC board or Budweiser. Why is that do you think?

Jessica Cornwell: Loretta Nall I had a LONG response typed out to you but since Anniston Star's website apparently has some flaws it disappeared so instead I will say this..

1) YOU do not know as much about the ABC Board as you think. 2) Lt. Reese's only agenda is to SAVE LIVES. 3) You do NOT know either of these boys so you do NOT KNOW what they were like, or their lives were like. 4) Spice IS directly related to their deaths and the at least 6 others coast to coast I can name. 5) YOU had your chance to speak and listen to the "cold hard facts" on Sept 19th..YOU were NOT there.

YOU, Mrs. Nall, are assuming you know something about all of this, you do not. Since July this has consumed my life and I will continue to do anything I can to make sure it is banned!

To which I respond

Loretta Nall: Jessica all you have is conjecture. You don't know how much I know about anything. If you really believe that someone whose job it is to sell alcohol has strictly an interest in saving lives then I question your judgement. How is Spice directly related to the deaths of the kids you are referring to? So, they all took spice or similar products and committed suicide. That doesn't mean Spice or other similar products were responsible. They might all have drank milk that morning too or had a beer a few weeks ago, yet no one is looking at those things. There is absolutely NO empirical evidence that these products are responsible for the deaths of these kids. In order for it to be empirical we will have to rule out everything else. Things like home life situation, critical life changing events happening recently, mental illness in any of the family tree, depression (how many of these kids were on an anti-depressant?), was there a history of bullying at school and on and on and on. All of those things and many more would have to be ruled completely out and only spice or related products left before we can even begin to come close to proving that it was the cause. If it was the cause then how did it work? On what part of the mind did it work. How come the majority of people who are using this stuff aren't committing suicide? Can you answer that question? From what I have been reading in these cases it looks like maybe the kids were starting to exhibit signs of mental illness, quite possibly schizophrenia. That particular disease strikes mostly males and usually between the age of 18-25. No one knows what the trigger is for schizophrenia. All science knows is that people are born with it and that at some point in their life it triggers. Signs and symptoms are very similar to what is being described about the behavior of these kids shortly before they took their own lives.

Then Emily comes back with...

Emily Collinsworth: The symptoms of prolonged spice use are paranoia and hallucinations. This has been studied. Brandon was not bullied nor did he have anything wrong in his life. We would not blame it on spice if there could have been some other reason, but there aren't any other possible reasons. You are just being insensitive. Imagine if one of your kids died and you knew why, but there was some ingorant person trying to tell you there had to be something else wrong with them. That is insulting and completely untrue. Maybe you will understand better when this happens to someone in your life which is what WILL happen if people keep abusing this stuff. I bet you're feeding off of this stuff like you get some sick satisfaction out of letting people know everything you think. Well get this, you can't always be right. You aren't even worth all of this time and anger so this is all I am going to say. Just stop being ridiculous and trying to get your opinion out (not to supress it but you have already gotten your point across) and pray for us like any good person would do. That's all we want is prayer and support.

Loretta Nall: Emily, who studied the symptoms of prolonged use of Spice? What were the criteria for the study? Where are the peer reviewed published results? I am not being insensitive. I am being objective. We can't base our laws on the emotions of suffering parents whose children have committed suicide. That isn't how things work...or at least it shouldn't be. You can make all the baseless claims about me you want. That doesn't make them true. You can't argue your point effectively or answer my questions so you are trying to deflect. Please post peer reviewed studies published in credible medical journals which prove that prolonged use of spice and spice-like chemicals cause suicide, depression, paranoia, hallucinations. If it exists you will have no problem posting it for the rest of us to see.

And that is where this conversation currently is. I want facts, scientific proof that these products cause suicide. I want the media to be more objective in covering these types of stories. I'm sick of laws being passed just because it will make someone feel better. And I am sick of slick ass politicians using suffering, grieving parents as pawns in their prohibition games.

Is that to much to ask?

Feel free to join the conversation on the AS website HERE

Alabama Should drug test lawmakers, not Medicaid patients

noreply@blogger.com (Loretta Nall) — Fri, 26 Aug 2011 15:19:00 +0000

I had a great LTE printed in today's BHAM News

Alabama Should Drug Test Lawmakers, Not Medicaid Patients

And some very surprising and supportive commentary follows. Please read and leave a comment on al.com

ANTISEC Destroys Some Alabama Law Enforcement Servers

noreply@blogger.com (Loretta Nall) — Sun, 31 Jul 2011 23:23:00 +0000

Boy oh boy I'd give a lot to see what they got from the following Alabama LEO servers; especially the Alabama Sheriff's Association and Talladega Sheriff's Office.

Alabama Sheriffs

Cherokee County Sheriff

Cleburne County Sheriff

Randolph County Sheriff

Talladega County Sheriff

The entire list can be read here

Favorite Music Moment Ever

noreply@blogger.com (Loretta Nall) — Wed, 27 Jul 2011 21:51:00 +0000

Damn you Auto Correct

noreply@blogger.com (Loretta Nall) — Fri, 22 Jul 2011 15:08:00 +0000

Oh the trials and tribulations of auto-correct on cell phones. Mine usually inserts the word SEX into my texts.

However, thread at Damn You Auto Correct is not only one of the most hilarious things I have ever read....it makes my cell phone's insertion of the word SEX seem incredibly tame by comparison.

A MUST READ!

Shouldn't Drug Court be for Drug Users?

noreply@blogger.com (Loretta Nall) — Mon, 11 Jul 2011 13:10:00 +0000

Not in Shelby County, Alabama, apparently.

Hardly a week goes by that I don't get an email from some unfortunate person who has had a run-in with the law in Shelby County, and as a result, are being forced into the Shelby County Drug Court program. A few months ago it was the forced drug testing of parents with kids enrolled in the program. Today, it's something even more sinister.

Over the weekend I got an email from a woman in Atlanta about her current ordeal involving Shelby Co. Drug Court. Here is what she had to say;

Ms. Nall I have learned a lot about you in my research. I, too, am fighting a case against the Shelby Co. Drug Court. My case has now been moved to district court. I was arrested at a rock concert after someone passed me a joint, I'm not a smoker, so passed it on. Regardless, I was arrested along with the group around me. And although I haven't failed a drug test in Shelby Co. Pre-trial probation, and my arresting officers report says he saw me pass it, not smoke it, the DA refuses to drop my charges. At first the public defender tried to get me to make a deal. If I would just plead guilty, go through the drug treatment program, they would drop my charge. But I do not feel that I am guilty of anything,but being in the wrong place at the wrong time, so thats when I got a lawyer. In circuit court, they offered me to either go through the treatment program (without dropping charges now, b/c I won't admit guilt)or 2 years unsupervised probation w/risk of 90 days in jail. I refused that as well, and now we are going to district court. I didn't mention, I live out of state, so I cannot tell what a hardship it is for me to drive 4 hours one way to take a drug test 3-4 times a week, b/c they refuse to transfer my probation, which I am sure is b/c they will lose my money. But they are about to lose a lot more than that, cause I am determined to fight for my innocence, and my rights as an American. I have grown-up believing that you are innocent until proven guilty, but not in Shelby Co. Alabama. I have had to do everything to defend my character, now the prosecutors are trying to prove that the music I listen to proves that I am a likely drug user, yet they have no evidence. They didn't find any drugs on me and I haven't failed a drug test. They are charging me with constructive Possession (which means I had knowledge of the drugs around me), which has the same punishment as if they found a pound of marijuana on me. I have done a lot of research on the Shelby Co. drug task force and court system. There budget was cut in half at the beginning of the 2011 fiscal year. There director stated that they would whatever possible to maintain their program. Well, I am the example of that. They will charge anyone for anything, because most people will crumble and take their deal, b/c believe me they make it sound like its your only option. The public defender also tried to sell me on what a good program this was, and if I did good in it, I get promoted more quickly.

I never thought that what others were doing around me would affect me. I don't know anyone who would think to themselves, even though I paid for these seats, maybe I should leave my seat or venue to avoid breaking the law? As far as proof, I took my first drug test 6 days after my arrest, and the fact that on the date of my arrest I was 13 weeks and 6 days pregnant, which I also provided doctor documentation in court. It seems to me that there is no way in hell they are going to simply drop my charges. In the meantime, the judge has dropped the pre-trial probation testing, so I don't have to be back there till my district court date. And the only reason I won't just take the drug court is because they refuse to transfer it. It sounds great to me to jump through hoops for 6 months to get rid of all this. But I live 4 hours away.It is a 9 hour round trip for me to wait an hour, pay $30, and piss in a cup. Not to mention I have made the drive twice to meet with my Pre-trial Prob. officer, for her not to show up, and the other time she had a scheduled holiday, yet she set these appointments, and I got fined for missing the appointments. I own a business. It is a major inconvenience, (which is really all the program is designed to be)for me to leave my business unattended 3-4 days a week. It cost my company money, not just me, and we all know its near to impossible to keep a small business thriving these days. I have also used the business argument. I am a thriving member of society; I have a college education (from the state of Alabama). I have hired 6 employees since the new year. I am providing jobs therefore boosting the economy. The more I see how people are treated in Shelby Co. drug court system and the more I hear their testimony, the more I am convinced that there is something wrong with this. Not once have they ever asked me about my drug use or if I need help. They have never offered me a real treatment program. Its piss when your color is called, and pay $30 for your PO to ask you if you are still employed, have same address, or anymore charges. All they do is break people down by dehumanizing them. You need drugs after dealing with those people. I can go on and on about the people employee in the community corrections department. BTW, they don't take debit/credit cards, cash only. There is fine of $20 if you don't have correct change, nor are you allowed to leave to find some place to make change for you. Learned that the hard way my first visit. Its all about making a dollar by any means.

My husband got transferred back to drug court after circuit court, since our lawyer said he didn't have many alternatives left, which I don't think is true. She advised me to continue fighting since they don't have any evidence, but an officers account, but I am not happy with her results. She originally told us she could get my charge dropped, and my husband would just pay a fine, but obviously that's not the case in Shelby Co., and every week she sends us another bill for $500 and I'm not sure what I am even paying for anymore. Can you recommend a lawyer? Someone that may have a personal interest in fighting for a case involving a simple possession (.03 grams found on the ground in front of us), as well as someone who wants to stick to to Shelby Co. dehumanizing court system.

There are obviously a lot of unconstitutional practices going on in Shelby County. As well as some corrupt officials. And someone finally needs to challenge them. I can send you all information public records, and accounts I have found. I will be glad to share more details about my case as well. I want to get the word out about what is going on in Alabama.

So, a patron from out of state wishing to spend money in Shelby County's economy instead gets arrested on a drug related charge, of which there is NO EVIDENCE, and is forced into drug court even though there again there's NO EVIDENCE that this person uses drugs? How about that? Oh, and the concert she was attending was "Widespread Panic". Seems like every time Widespread Panic comes to that area the cops bring out huge buses and about half the crowd are undercover pricks intent on filling those buses with people who spend money in their town. Brilliant!

Now, correct me if I'm wrong, but isn't drug court supposed to be for people who actually use drugs? I disagree with the drug court BS altogether. It is nothing but a money racket that mainly focuses its resources on cannabis consumers (because there are more of us than all other illicit substance users combined and therefore a larger pool of money for them to extort) as opposed to people who have actual drug addictions...say meth addicts for instance. And in this instance the person wasn't using drugs and has passed all drug testing, so there is no evidence of drug use of any kind. So, why is she being forced into drug court?

According to the Shelby Co. Drug Court website Drug Court is an alternative to the traditional court process. In Drug Court, intensive treatment, rather than incarceration, is used as the primary means of coping with drug use, abuse, and addiction. The Program is designed to keep qualified applicants as contributing members of society rather than requiring society to incur the costs of jailing or imprisoning these applicants. Through Drug Court you will receive treatment, specifically designed for you, intended to resolve the issues that brought you before the Court, as well as intensive supervision and interaction by the Court and Drug Court team.

Under those terms this lady does not qualify for drug court because she 1) Doesn't use drugs and therefore is not addicted or abusing drugs 2) She is already a contributing member of society because she is a business owner from out of state 3) Doesn't need treatment (which they don't offer anyway because there is a horrendous lack of treatment space available in Alabama)

By forcing her into this sham they will prevent her from being a contributing member of society by breaking her bank account, placing outrageous hardship on her business and taking money from her that she would likely use to care for her child. They want to make her become dependent on the state so they can turn around and say, "Look how drugs destroy your life....". In other words they make it a self-fulfilling prophecy like they always do.

Another thing that jumps out at me is the bit about being charged an extra $20 for not having correct change and not being allowed to run across the street and get it. I wonder if that is in any of the handbooks or paperwork they give those forced into participating, or if they just spring it on you once you are captive in their court? If I were a betting gal I'd put my money on the latter. Sounds to me like maybe someone in the drug court system has found a way to skim off the top.

As I said before I completely disagree with drug courts altogether. It is nothing but government sanctioned extortion. If you run out of money while in drug court you go to jail anyway. If you make mistakes in drug court you go to jail anyway (and true drug addicts will backslide....it's part of the process). If you don't have money then you never have the opportunity to participate in drug court and that right there is illegal. It is unequal access based on your bank account. Having said that it seems to me that if drug courts must exist then they should be used to address the most serious cases of addiction. Not cannabis consumers and certainly not business owning concert-goers who weren't using drugs at the time of arrest and for which there is no proof that they have ever used drugs. I think this lady is a target for drug court because Shelby County has decided that she has money and they want it.

I also think she can beat the charges. Generally, once they see that the person who they have targeted for their extortion practices intends to fight back the charges will disappear. I am trying to help her find a better lawyer. Stay tuned for developments. If you are in Shelby Co then write your representative and senator and demand that they put an end to this nonsense. Use this new report from the Drug Policy Alliance on the ineffectiveness of drug courts to make your argument.

Drug addiction is a health issue

noreply@blogger.com (Loretta Nall) — Sun, 10 Jul 2011 12:48:00 +0000

by our readers Anniston Star

Jul 10, 2011

Re “Drug task force to begin operations in Clay County” (News article, June 30):

I read this article with dismay. Will law enforcement and the public never learn that our approach to drug use has failed and will continue to fail so long as we insist on treating drug use as a criminal act instead of a health issue?

The “drug war” started more than 40 years ago under Richard Nixon, and in that 40 years more than $1 trillion has been wasted. And for what? Has drug use dropped or ceased altogether? No. Has arresting and incarcerating adults for minor drug offenses stopped others from using drugs? No. Has the drug war made acquiring drugs difficult? No. Has the drug war stopped drugs from coming into or being produced in this country? No. Has the drug war increased the price or decreased the purity of drugs available? No. Has it kept drugs out of the hands of children? Certainly not.

It has created the horrific prison overcrowding we see in Alabama. In our prison system, which was built to hold about 12,000 people, we are running at 195 percent capacity with nearly 30,000 inmates. The state Legislature refused to address this issue in this last session, so now the federal government is coming in to take it over. It has created a police state where everyone is a potential suspect. It has created no-knock, SWAT team raids on the suspicion that someone might have a couple joints in their home. These raids place everyone involved, police, suspects, kids and family pets in extreme danger.

People who are addicted to a substance need no additional help in further complicating their lives. Addiction is a private family matter and should be treated as such. Imagine if we had alcohol task forces who went around kicking in doors, throwing grenades, and imprisoning everyone who liked to occasionally drink a beer?

Enough already.

Loretta Nall
Alexander City

Read more: Anniston Star - Drug addiction is a health issue

Goat Electric

noreply@blogger.com (Loretta Nall) — Thu, 07 Jul 2011 19:59:00 +0000

Check out this new blog Goat Electric

Interesting connection between Chrissie Hynde song "Back on the Chain Gang" and the News of the World scandal.

Also hilarious online vote to make Georgia tags look like a horses butt.

Back from Lu-Z-Anner

noreply@blogger.com (Loretta Nall) — Mon, 04 Jul 2011 18:19:00 +0000

(NOTE:) I started this post about two weeks ago and only just now had time to finish it up

I've just returned from a short trip with my friend Christie to New Orleans where we attended the Southeastern Republican Leadership Conference and voted in the Straw Poll (GO RON PAUL GO!!)

Well, actually, the only reason we went was to vote in the Straw Poll for Ron Paul...because, really...who wants to hang out with a bunch of anti-fun, pro-war, anti-choice, anti-equal rights, bible-thumping, asshole Republicans who do stuff like this for shits and giggles? Not I. And especially not in New Orleans...the party capitol of the South. I keep thinking since most Republicans are against all of the extravagant debauchery that is New Orleans...why did they choose that city for the conference? And the answer is....drum roll...........they are just like everyone else only they lie about it. I saw a number of them on Bourbon Street that weren't wearing red badges (the colored badges of Ron Paul supporters). They want to control what the rest of the country does but not adhere to the same laws and principles.

Now, I've been to New Orleans twice before and both times it was in the winter and the temp was comfortable. This time it was summer and there is only one word to describe the hot jello like heat in the middle of June in New Orleans Louisiana....HELL. I really don't see that hell could be much hotter. It was fucking MISERABLE. I fully understand why NOLA has one of the highest per capita murder rates in the country year after year.

The heat.

If I had to live there I'd kill everybody. I only thought it was hot in Alabama. Let me tell ye...we ain't got jack on New Orleans. Or Mississippi for that matter. I'll get to Mississippi in a minute. No wonder monster storms that spawn F5 tornadoes always come out of Mississippi. GAWD!

Anyway, on the trip down I drove and we took I-10 through Mobile. Just outside of Mobile we hit a monster storm with wicked lightning and hail the size of marbles. I flinched every time one hit the windshield. Many people pulled off the interstate onto the shoulder....which is a totally dumbass thing to do. If someone hydroplanes then those people on the side of the road are going to get smashed. I simply slowed down to about 15 mph and turned the flashers on. I hate driving in rain like that as much as the next person, but if I am on the interstate then I will find an exit to stop at...unless it's on 59 in Mississippi, in which case there are no exits.

Once we got to New Orleans and got checked into the hotel (Never, ever, ever stay at the Hilton Riverside...they want $8 an hour for internet access in your room, and they charge $34 for overnight parking after they have charged you over $200 for the room) we took a little while to cool off and collect ourselves. Then we went out on the town. And yes I did take my 14 year old daughter down Bourbon Street. We stopped to eat on the Riverwalk next to the hotel. The service sucked. There was hardly anyone there and yet it took forever to get our food, which wasn't very good. However the tubs-o-liquor they were selling were tasty indeed. Christie and I both got the 32 oz pina colada. The waiter tried to sell us the 70 oz barrel version for $20 each with a promise to refill it for $10 the next day. He even tried to sell Bell an alcoholic beverage after she asked for root beer. Didn't ask for ID. And wouldn't have. We declined. I'm not much of a drinker, myself. However the frozen 32 oz pina colada hit the spot. I would'a dove in that sucker if the cup had been large enough.

After that we walked a few blocks to Bourbon Street to check out the many sights and sounds. Thank whatever deity you believe in for the overpriced gift shops that line Bourbon Street. They blast out the air conditioning to lure people in. I don't understand how, even with the horribly overpriced merchandise, they can afford what has to be a massive power bill. But goodness it feels soooooo good. We would have had three medical emergencies on our hands had it not been for the air conditioning. It was that hot. I don't understand how people live there. We were so drenched and exhausted by the end that we took a cab the few blocks back to the hotel.

The next morning we met up with a gentleman who directed us upstairs to register with the Ron Paul folks and vote in the Straw Poll. Unfortunately we missed all of the festivities with Dr. Paul the day before because we arrived late. I have had the opportunity to meet him before on a trip to DC. He is incredible.

While waiting in line to vote in the straw poll Christie, Bell and I were given tri-fold brochures promoting the sponsors of the event. Most of them were innocuous enough, selling media services, campaign websites and consulting ect....but one really jumped out at me...the gay bashing ad which stated, "Two dads can never replace a mom." Now, there are loads of gay people in the Republican party (don't ask me why). The former chair of the RNC came out as gay recently. Then there is Mark Foley, Larry Craig and God only knows how many other in the closet members of the Republican party. And yet one of the main sponsors was anti-family because they would rather a kid grow up in an orphanage, be passed around from place to place, be abused by religious whackos and thrown away than to allow two people, who happen to be the same sex to raise a child in a loving, caring home. Jeez I hate Republicans. They are such hate-filled ass wipes, hypocrites and control freaks. Not that Democrats are much better. But at least there is more acceptance and less hate with the D's.

I threw my brochure away. And then washed my hands...with lots of soap and hot water. I say as long as you are a consenting adult and you aren't hurting anyone else then what you do is your damn business and the government has no right to control it or interfere in it in any way.

After we voted in the straw poll we loaded up and headed back to Bama. We decided to come back on 59 through Mississippi since we were staying with Christie for the night just outside Tuscaloosa.

I-59 through Mississippi is the most desolate place on the face of the earth. I thought 65 South between Montgomery and Mobile was desolate and devoid of human life. Let me tell you.... 59 in Mississippi makes it look like a burgeoning metropolis.

Once you cross the state line into Mississippi there is like absolutely NOTHING. No exits, no gas stations, no rest areas with bathrooms, no humans, no nothing. Not even any road kill.It was creepy. I kept wondering how in the hell people get around Mississippi and where in the hell they lived and how one would get there and why there was even an interstate? I mean you'd ride 90 miles in between exits (all 2 of them) and occasionally in the middle of that 90 miles you'd see a neighborhood off to one side of the interstate or the other....but absolutely no way to get there, save driving down a damn embankment. I'm still wondering how one would get to those homes from the interstate. And if you broke down there would be no way for a wrecker to get to you without coming from 100 miles away in either direction. You'd be absolutely screwed...and baked to death by the brutal sun long before anyone got to you. It's like driving through the damn twilight zone.

And the ride itself was terrifying. Now, I love my friend Christie to death....but her driving scares me to death. I drove us out of NOLA and she said since I drove down she would drive back. This was the first time I had ever ridden with her. And on any future road tripping I will volunteer to do all driving. To be fair everyone's driving scares the hell out of me. I'm an incredibly careful driver. I've had one accident (which was caused by a hellacious thunderstorm). Since then I have not be comfortable riding with anyone. If I am in a vehicle I want to be behind the damn wheel. End of story. But I was tired and decided to be a passenger for the ride back.

No sooner had Christie taken the wheel than she began to fiddle with the cd player, the stuff in the floor, her drink etc. While talking to me she ran off the side of the interstate and hit those ridges meant to wake up sleeping drivers. I dove for cover. A few minutes later she did the same thing on the other side. I dove again. Then I told her if she did it again I was driving. And she did it again. Problem was there was absolutely no where to pull over and give me the wheel. We didn't switch places until we crossed back into Alabama. It was the most terrifying ride of my life. And it all happened at the light speed of 80 miles an hour. It's funny....the other day she sent me a text message saying she was on her way to the Dr. and that her mom was driving and that she was scared to death because of it. I wrote back that if her mom scared her then I couldn't imagine how bad her driving was :) It must be genetic.

So, here is my advice to anyone traveling to NOLA and back through Mississippi on 59. Go in the winter. The summer heat will nearly suffocate you. Get your windows tinted to keep from being baked alive in your automobile. Fill up the tank of your vehicle before setting out across 59....otherwise you will be stranded and dead long before anyone gets to you. Have a good spare tire and know how to change it. Take food and water and an empty jug to pee in cause your ass ain't stopping on 59 to pee or get gas or food or anything else for that matter. There isn't even any roadkill to bbq in case of an emergency.

Despite all my snarkiness in this post we actually had a lot of fun. It was great to get out of the house for a few days and see the sights and sound of New Orleans. The ride down was beautiful. Many thanks to Christie for inviting us along on her dime. She is generous to a fault and one of the best friends I have ever had.

Federal Marijuana Legalization Bill Introduced in US House

noreply@blogger.com (Loretta Nall) — Fri, 24 Jun 2011 16:25:00 +0000

Yesterday Rep. Ron Paul (R-Texas...Go Ron Paul Go!!) and Barney Frank (D-Mass) introduced a bill in the House Judiciary Committee that would remove marijuana from the schedule of controlled substances and leave it up to the states to regulate.

Marijuana bill introduced in US House

HB 2306 is not yet available on THOMAS the congressional website similar to our ALISON.

Already the chair of the House Judiciary Cmte., Rep. Lamar Smith is rattling his drug war saber, saying that he will not put the bill on the calendar. Sound familiar? He also said a bunch of other backwards thinking nonsense in his dismissal of this much needed legislation.

I need you to do two things.

1) Contact Rep. Lamar Smith's Office in Washington and demand that he give this bill a fair hearing. Here is his contact information. Go to link below to email him and please also give him a call. Pass this along to everyone you know.

Rep. Lamar Smith
Washington D.C. Office
2409 Rayburn House Office Building
Washington, DC 20515
202-225-4236

2) Go HERE to send a letter to Rep. Lamar Smith and your own US Rep. asking them to support this bill. Pass this along to everyone you know.

We are fast approaching the majority in this country. They cannot deny the will of the people forever. Make sure your voice is heard.

Books you HAVE to read

noreply@blogger.com (Loretta Nall) — Mon, 06 Jun 2011 12:42:00 +0000

If you like to read and especially enjoy Southern Humor then by all means check out the following books by John Pritchard..."Junior Ray" and "Yazoo Blues". My friend Marc Emery sent these to me after he finished them at the federal prison in Yazoo City and I have laughed so hard I've come close to having an accident. For your convenience you can purchase them from Amazon by clicking the links below.

Reading these books has inspired me to collect all the funny essays I wrote during and after my campaign for Governor and self publish them. Who knows...I might make the NYT best sellers list.

Found!

noreply@blogger.com (Loretta Nall) — Mon, 06 Jun 2011 12:34:00 +0000

The miracle of all miracles happened yesterday when we found our beloved Scout!

Bell and I had gone to the store and on the way there she talked about how she had not been sleeping well since Scout went missing because of nightmares that whoever had her was fighting her or abusing her in some other way. I had asked her a couple times if she would like to get another dog but she declined saying that would be like replacing one of her parents should anything every happen to us.

On the way back from the store we decided to go down an out of the way road where we hadn't looked before. We found nothing. Then as we pulled into our driveway my neighbor from about a quarter mile up the road pulled in behind us and I asked him if he had seen our puppy. He said, "The brindle pit bull with a black collar?" and we showed him the flyer and he said, "Yep that's her....she's been at the house for over a week."

What's strange is that I had stopped by his place three times but was too afraid to get out because he owns about 4 large pits and his truck was never there. I never saw Scout out in the yard with the rest of them so I didn't figure she was there.

We jumped back in the truck and went straight over there and as soon as Bell opened her door Scout leaped in and started loving her to death. Scout was a little worse for the wear. Much skinnier and flea and tick infested because her flea and tick pill had worn off while she was gone....but she was otherwise ok. Neighbor said he had wormed them all last week.

We brought her home and the first thing she did was bound in the house and steal Saul's rawhide bone and hop on the couch. She is such a turd. Bell and I gave her a long bath to rid her of bugs, fed her lots, loved on her for a long time and the first thing she did when she went back out was steal some goose eggs, which seem to be her favorite food.

Saul was so happy she was home I swear he smiled. I took him out to play with her in the fence and they had a ball....although she is a tad more snappy than she was before she left. I guess having to fend off three or four other large pit bulls for two weeks brought out the worst in her. But, I'm sure she will settle down in time and once again become the sweet baby we know and love.

Bell went to bed early last night and slept well. In fact, she is still sleeping.

I can't figure out why she just didn't come home. The neighbor's where she was hiding out is like a quarter mile from here and surely she knew the way. But, who knows the minds of dogs? We are just ecstatic that she has returned unharmed. We will be reinforcing the fence so that miss Houdini stays in her own yard from now on.

Lost

noreply@blogger.com (Loretta Nall) — Sat, 28 May 2011 16:54:00 +0000

LOST NEAR PEARSON CHAPEL ROAD AND BICE CEMETERY ROAD ON MAY 27. ANSWERS TO SCOUT. WEARING BLACK COLLAR.

BELONGS TO A VERY SAD LITTLE GIRL AND A GERMAN SHEPHERD WHO MISS HER VERY MUCH.

IF SEEN PLEASE CALL 256-625-9599 OR 877-528-5647

$$$ REWARD OFFERED $$$

NO QUESTIONS ASKED

Medical Marijuana OpEd's in BHAM News and Press Register

noreply@blogger.com (Loretta Nall) — Sun, 10 Apr 2011 11:24:00 +0000

Today I had OpEd's on HB386 The Michael Phillips Compassionate Care Act appear in both the Birmingham News and the Mobile Press Register

Birmingham News
Drug War Politics Hurt Medical Marijuana in State

Mobile Press Register
Alabama Should Allow Use of Medical Marijuana

Please go and leave a comment and also write a letter to the editor in response.

To send an LTE to the Birmingham News email it to editor@bhamnews.com

To send an LTE to the Press Register use this link