my buddy danny ford the man on the left was like an uncle to me growing up. been hunting, camping, partied with him since i was just knee high to a grasshopper. he passed away earlier this year. i always looked up to him as a man, a friend, and a person. he was hurtin' because problems with money, job, & wife, then dealing with his dad and brother that passed away. i miss the man.
he was more like an older brother than anything. i remember when i was 12 he was fucking with me in front of everyone when we were camping one year. telling me he'd be snuggling up with me that night to keep me warm. grunting and groaning like he was gonna make me his bitch. obviously i wasn't having any of it but it still makes me laugh about it til this day and everyone had a good chuckle about it that night. mother fucker i'll miss ya. lol
john "moon" the man on the right. been a very good family friend of mine since i was a baby. one of the most honest people i know. he was a passionate man and would give you the shirt off his back if it made you feel better. lived every day like his last and that is no exaggeration or cliche. he'd slam a bottle of vodka to the face and dance around the fire to his favorite blues music namely janis joplin because that's how he lived life everyday.
i remember one night when i was a little younger prolly smokin' weed at 13-14 years old. we were hunting and camping up here in northern cali. he was fucking plastered trying to take bets from everyone in camp saying he could hit the bullseye of a target in the middle of the night. naturally we all thought it wasn't the greatest idea considering it was pitch black out and you couldn't see your hand at arms length let alone a target at any distance. but after all was said and done moon did it anyway and made good on his bet by hitting the target dead center as he held the target between both feet on the ground and shot it at point blank range with his hunting rifle. both scaring the fuck out of everyone and making his impression on all of us by making great stories like this for all of us to remember him by. that was a good day.
just one of the many hilarious things i'll remember about my friend. who passed just recently from health problems stemming from cancer and various other indulgences he was involved in throughout his life.
i could write a ton more about both but i'll save those memories for myself. i didn't get to make it to either of their funerals for various different reasons. so this is the least that i can do for my friends, the select few that are actually worthy of being here at dynastoned.com. hopefully i'll see them again some day. if not it was fun while it lasted.
idk why i just feel like crawling out of my skin right now. chasing a high, chasing money, trying to keep families together. nobody has their shit together. i'm not even upset i just don't understand how people can't be comfortable with themselves. it's always a fake fucking front trying to be more than you are.
how hard is it to kick back, turn on some tunes and just relax? life is too god damn hard to be always upset or angry and spiteful. just enjoy yourself and everything comes to you. it's easy just let it go.
how do you get that to those who are wrapped up in the fucking materialistic worthless things around them? theres always an underlying motive for something more. it's fucking fake and some would say it's human nature. i just want to eat, sing, love, and live. it isn't that complicated.
it's just tiring day after day someone else falls under the surface. another one who couldn't keep their head above water. got lost in the woods and they just blew away like an early morning fog. whos to say they should have done this or they should have done that? were all stuck in the same predicament. you could be next. so why waste today?
its been like 20 something days i think now of alcohol consumption and pill popping greatness. it finally commenced into a bastard of a hangover and a bit of vomit monday morning about 30 minutes before i had to be at work.
i of course fought off the hellish hangover with a few grunts and a steady dose of opiates in the form of a synthetic pill(s). It had been a disastrous weekend and was now spilling into the work week where I'm supposed to be somewhat coherent.
Needless to say when I got home from work monday I took it easy and ate a few more goodies that i like to call vikings aka more opiates. In general I was just trying to get some sleep. Hoping Tuesday would bring a brighter future if only for a few hours at a time. "Hope" as turns out is a very dangerous thought process.
So the following morning I finally drag my half dead ass out of bed after hitting the snooze button 12 times. Hop in the shower give myself a quick rinse, surprisingly actually put some gel in my hair, grab my shit, and hop in the truck.
Already running 10 minutes late I do what any reasonable person would do... Drive like a fucking maniac all the way to work. Breaking every traffic law in the book. Crossing double yellows, passing 3 semi's at a time, doing 100mph into oncoming traffic. All the while singing along to some jimi hendrix playing on the stereo. You know, the norm.
Finally show up to work completely sober for the first time in weeks, 5 minutes late as usual. Typical for a guy trying to get fired, but thats a story for another day.
It turns out to be a pretty uneventful stress filled day with mountains of paper work that I have to dig myself out of daily. Eventually 4:30 rolls around. So I drag my leather ass home via 90 mph in the silverado while I nod off from complete mental exhaustion. All in a days work.
Only to come home to news of my dads cancer surgery. You guessed it, unsuccessful. He has already left amid the bad news to the mountains to try and clear his head with some 357 gun fire. So I'm left alone stewing on all of this. Pretty helpless at the moment with nothing but a truck and a pocket full of money.
After a few decisive beers flow down my esophagus I'm feeling randy. So I hop in the truck, drunk driving in my glass house, and let the tires spin all the way down the road on the way to the liquor store. Blowing through stop signs with zero regard for pedestrians. Last of my worries is a simple DUI Manslaughter at this point.
Once I reach the terrorist liquor store I immediately grab 3 sticks of teriyaki beef jerky and an ice cold box of Pacifico. Two of the handful of things in life I genuinely enjoy. Roll myself home and turn up the tunes. Because of course when all else fails get yourself some beer, music, and beef jerky.
So after an entertaining night of alcohol consumption and loud music I jump in the sack and dream about the lighter things in life.
And the cycle starts all over again. Green vile flying from the same throat I so graciously sent all those beers down with. Spreading across the bathroom floor and toilet seat at high velocity. Only to wipe it up, brush it off, and smile at myself in the mirror muttering under my breath how sick of a human being I really am.
The daily life of the dynastoned. Isn't as gracious as it may appear, but I'm still here!
