Terribly shocking stuff.

Dear friends,

hello again and thanks for taking the time to read this.
I haven't told you much about who I am but I suppose the most relevant thing about me that I'd choose to share with you,is that I'm just trying really hard to be happy in a decent and passive way.
Unfortunately this is not always easy for me,as I am a bit of a "hand full".
I worry a lot.
I can be very lazy and unmotivated.
I get depressed.
I like to get wild and crazy.
I am a real enigma.

With all of that said,I'll tell you a story......a rather terrible but true story about some of my worst behaviour.
I hope that you wont judge me too harshly as I'm no longer the same person......although I know that I could be.
This story occurred  some years ago.....I could give you more background but I reckon I don't have to.

THE MONSTER COMETH

One of my greatest moments of public humiliation was caused by my very own bad behaviour. 

A few years into my radio career saw me working in a large regional city.  This place had plenty of people who wished to live in much the same fashion as their big city counterparts.  

Accordingly they had a switched on and active business community.  

This thriving little city successfully tried its best to stimulate its economy and to show that it had a heart and a social conscience. To this end, the local chamber of commerce and its movers and shakers had organised a gala charity evening to raise funds for one of the many worthy African charities. The radio station that employed me was one of the sponsors and as part of our support we had promised to provide a fairly famous and prominent pop star to act as the gala evening’s master of ceremonies.

Late in the afternoon, just an hour or so before the big event, I received a phone call from the station manager informing me that the pop star had cancelled and that I would have to go along to host the evening in his place.  I again remind you that unfortunately I was a functional drug addict and alcoholic. I say functional because I was able to have a job and partially disguise the extent of my problem.

Part of being a functional addict means that when you are not working,  you are most likely using. My drugs of choice were cocaine, speed, ecstasy, marijuana and lots of alcohol. This particular day also saw me coming down from a particularly nasty acid trip. I had taken the little piece of blotter paper, which had been soaked in lysergic acid, only two days earlier. I had experienced one of the most terrifying drug induced hallucinogenic psychoses that I had ever known. I recall hiding in my bedroom absolutely terrified that I was not in my bedroom at all but instead I was convinced that I was actually out and about, lost somewhere in the city. I was absolutely and horridly freaking out and I had gone quite literally insane. This terrible fear and intense hallucinating lasted for about fifteen hours, leaving me pretty messed up and quite nervous for the next few days. When I got the phone call telling me of my last minute responsibilities I had no choice but to agree. I smoked a quick joint had a shower and skedaddled down town to get a quick run down of the nights events before the show.

Upon my arrival I at once recognised one of the guys in the set up crew. We said hello and he immediately offered me a big fat line of speed.

Budda-Bing Budda-Bang, let’s get this show on the road.

A quick check of the running sheet, a few speeches, a bit of musical entertainment, a fashion parade, a celebrity auction, some more speeches, some more music and good night. Quite easy really, all I had to do was join the dots. Before I knew it the auditorium was full, the lights were down and I was on. “Hello and welcome”, I kept my opening remarks tight and bright being careful not to say too much.

During the first piece of entertainment I went off stage, where somebody from the radio station said something like, ”hey Timbo why aren’t you being funny, have a few drinks and loosen up a bit”.

Free champagne all night, yeah why not. Then I was back on stage with the happy little buzz of a couple of quick champagnes and the speed really kicking in. “ Well, if it’s entertainment they want “…….

It’s kind of hard to piece together what happened next, the night went by so very quickly. I remember reading from my running sheet and introducing a representative from the Farmers Federation who had come to hand over a rather sizeable donation for the evenings cause. His name was Mr Hogg.

Yes the man from the Farmers Federation really was named Mr Hogg.

I can sort of remember laughing hysterically as I playfully but physically roughed him up a little bit on stage and yelled through the microphone, “piggy aha ha ha, piggy,piggy,PIGGY!!!”

I can also sort of vaguely remember, sombrely informing all of the five hundred or so guests, that, as they enjoyed the champagne and caviar, and since they were taking in the beautiful and somewhat exclusive fashions that were being paraded for them,  they should perhaps also think about ,

how it was just a total fucking disgrace that just a few short hours away by jet plane, innocent little children were starving to death.

I then apparently began hurling pieces of fruit at them.

Oh I was an absolute riot. I am also credited with some how, during this chaotic event, laying my eyes upon two drunken females in the audience.

No doubt they were the only two people in the auditorium who were not horrified and who were not stuck fearfully frozen to their seats.

I am told that ignoring everybody else, I spoke very suggestively to the two ladies over the microphone. I called them to join me on stage, apparently then exposed myself to the entire audience and left with my arms around both of the women and was last seen driving off with them in a taxi.

It is all a bit sketchy, I remember dribs and drabs of what I have just recounted to you but I do recall the next morning. I remember getting a phone call telling me to come in to work immediately. I remember wondering why there were two naked women in my bed, I remember telling them that who ever they were, they ought, best get dressed and go home. ”I’m sorry but I think I’m in some sort of trouble”. They left and I somehow got in to work. I recall that upon my arrival there, nobody would look at me. Not one person gave me eye contact. I knocked on the manager’s door and entered. He looked up from behind his desk and said,” I’ve done nothing but take phone calls complaining about you all morning, I don’t know what your on son but get your things, take your pay and get out and don’t ever come back”. With a sigh I shrugged my already stooped shoulders,

I said, “okay I understand”, and left the building.

Afterwards some friends of mine said that I had done a really good thing. They said that they thought that those other pretentious people had deserved a good shake up. My friends were under the false impression that I had bravely made some sort of statement. To set the record straight, the only statement that I made that fateful night, was that I was a rude, selfish, lunatic with a severe drug and alcohol problem. I had singlehandedly, ruined the best efforts of a group of decent people who had actually put their money where their mouths were and by doing so had tried to help a very worthy cause. Sadly Tim Carroll the monster had put a stop to that.