Up and coming musicians live off their meager tips while belting out tunes in tired bars.
Street performers rake them in near Los Angeles’ famed “Muscle Beach.”
And now, the internet makes it easy for even online journalists to place a tip jar on their website.
Thank you for helping me by donating a small amount toward what I do. You can adjust the amount donated by scrolling the up and down arrows next to the $10 denomination
I don’t get paid for any of the stories you see on my website, other than those that appear under the paid portfolio pages.
Which stories do you think get the most views, and the most feedback?
The Rock Island County corruption pieces, of course. I’m proud to say many other victims have reached out to me, shared their stories, and then reported their own abuse through the proper channels.
Not only am I NOT getting paid for these pieces, they’re costing me work.
My attorney friend, Michael Warner, former partner of Rock Island County Chief Justice Walter Braud, told me I’d be severely blackballed if I ever reported what happened in the jail.
He was right.
Waving my tin cup for medical cannabis
Before this blog turns “negative,” because the County of Rock Island indeed is a pathetic disgrace and we’re going to get into that in a minute, I want to share some of what I consider my best unpaid work.
I hope you will continue to support my work, and even consider a small offering via my secure electronic tip jar on the home page. Click here to go back to the home page, then scroll down to the tip jar and PayPal/MC/Visa portal.
PTSD and employment are like oil and water
It has been hard for me to find work after what I have been through. I have a temper and do not tolerate lies or abuse of any kind any more.
I have intrusive thoughts (the reel of the jail terror plays constantly in my head), I sometimes spontaneously fall asleep (not unusual in people with PTSD) and working with the public anywhere in the Quad-Cities is pretty much out of the question.
I don’t need to explain that, but it’s the truth. And verifiably so.
That leaves me working at home (and thank God that has worked in the past) or landing a job somewhere like a plant…a marijuana cultivation center, for example.
As a medical cannabis patient, I can’t pass a drug test. No, you don’t get a free pass on drug tests just because you have the card.
And anyone who says, “Suck it up and dry out for 30 days” can go straight to hell. A diabetic doesn’t stop taking insulin for 30 days.
Life was so much easier for me here when I was a coked up drunk.
Ashamed community pretending nothing happened to me
I was laughed at, and continue to be laughed at by many, even though one politician admitted he lied to a grand jury. Almost nobody knows Davenport Alderman Bill Boom resigned from the City Council and had to relinquish ownership of the town gay bar.
Believe me. Most people in this town do not read a newspaper. The brazen radical left bias of the local sheets has left all but a few chuckling over the soaring cost of these failing products.
You don’t have to feel sorry for me. But if you appreciate, even silently, what I have accomplished so far with my reporting, I really would appreciate your support.
My parents are dead. There are maybe two people in this town who care whether I get out of bed each day. I am being punished for blowing the whistle on drugs, human trafficking, dirty cops, and dirty politicians.
I applied for some help today with a bill. I’m happy to report that I do have a small income coming in from what has evolved into a regular gig with a local business. And I’m loving it.
But I’ve been on a tight budget which basically leaves no money for medical cannabis. As a result, I’m seeing a doctor about being doped back up on Pharma poison. At least it’s a backup.
Illinois Medicaid expansion will happily dope you up and pay for, in full, all the addictive opioids or benzoidazepines you want. But…NO MEDICAL CANNABIS FOR YOU!
I cannot lose my temper when I have PTSD triggers. It’s not an option. I appreciate myself too much.
But I hate the idea of bloating up, feeling itchy, depressed, etc. Pharma anxiety pills are just what I said: Poison.
But they work for a short while, if you only use them once in a great while.
I took abuse for years and years and years from the hateful, corrupt, narcissistic LGBT community of the Quad-Cities.
Particularly the depraved, woefully corrupt County of Rock Island, which has been lying to taxpayers over just about everything for decades and decades and decades.
This town has not acknowledged my worth since the day I moved back here. Journalists who report the truth about the corruption that has plagued this town for a century long have faced what only can be called as “Blackball Syndrome.”
One of my former Mary’s on 2nd Street bar friends, indisputably the most powerful lawyer in Rock Island County, warned me I’d be blackballed for reporting what happened inside the jail. Indeed, he flat out said I probably never would work again.
As for the lying, corrupt filthies, the business community isn’t going to like looking like foolish accomplices when the truth comes out about political indiscretions.
It’s already out.
Thankfully, a few local companies are more concerned with their bottom lines and/or their moral compasses than pleasing corrupt politicians. Some of these dishonest, filthy politicians repeatedly have intimidated their constituents and/or members of the business community alike.
They’ve done it too many times to too many people. And we’re connecting now.
You’re caught, filthies, whether anything happens to you via the justice system this time around or not.
Some rather powerful and wealthy members of this community are tired of the drama that a couple of these previously untouchable politicians have caused. You can’t cross certain industries in this town and expect to stay in office long-term.
Money and lies can’t change the truth during political campaigns. The truth doesn’t change.
So, let them blackball me all they want. My number one goal in my life is staying sober and having purpose. Blowing the lid off just how slimy the politicians in this depraved town really are has brought me great contentment during a period of otherwise terrifying duress.
All while I’m supposed to be healing. The filthiest, most dishonest politicians of this corrupt bunch of Rock Island County rodents knows exactly who they are, and exactly why I’m angry.
I’ve known you all for years. I was caring for my dad and was sober. Your political cronies and some of my other friends were boozing and drugging and, well, I’ll stop there.
You know I’m right AND YOU’RE FILTHY.
Eventually you’re all going to be caught in your lies, because none of you know how to act right. Plain and simple.
This county is so filthy and corrupt it sidesteps elections every chance it gets, for God’s sake. What a slap in the face to the United States Constitution.
CLICK HERE. This story by a rare fine journalist at the Rock Island Argus should be required reading for every fourth-grade child in Rock Island County. In the context of what happened to me, it’s just chilling as hell on every level as far as I’m concerned
For those of you with your heads still up you’re a$$e$ about Democrats who smile and blow stand-for-nothing propaganda soundbites out both ends, it’s time to wake up now.
Until next time.