After I moved into my place in Echo Park, back when I was getting wasted every day, I got license plates in the mail. They belonged to the guy who’d moved out. I knew my landlady would know where he went. And I should say something. But I didn’t. I kept them. Because what if I need these plates. If I get in trouble for my crimes, I can put them on my 1979 Mercedes S Class. Leave town. They’ll think it’s another guy driving Idi Amin’s car.
When I got sober I had to make amends to everyone I’d harmed. A long list. One of them was this guy. If you can’t find the person, or if it would cause harm, you don’t do it. I hoped this was one where I could make “living amends.” Not steal license plates in the future. Instead of tracking down some weirdo who might get pissed off. But I googled him. He had a web site with his picture and email.
I still didn’t do it.
I became the “general service rep” for my Alcoholics Anonymous home group. The AA student government. You sit in nine hour meetings where people who huffed spray paint yell about Robert’s Rules of Order. I went to the meeting. To vote on some horseshit about the pancake breakfast. There he was. I couldn’t believe it. He was the head of student government. Running the pancake breakfast. He didn’t hate it like me. He was helping people.
I said hey man, you don’t know who I am. But I moved in your place after you. I have to make an amends. I stole your license plates. They got mailed to me. I didn’t look for you. I thought if I ever got busted I’d use them to skip town. This was selfish and dishonest of me, etc.
He said yeah, I remember. I never got those plates. So I was driving around without them, hammered. I got pulled over and got a DUI. That’s why I got sober.
delicioustacos 
“When I got sober I had to make amends to everyone I’d harmed.”
How come you still haven’t made amends for your shitty, self-absorbed, narcissistic writings to everyone who has ever read this blog?
Narcissists don’t write about being flawed, fucked-up wrecks. They blame others for their problems; kinda like what you’re doing with this comment.
Hi, Tacos. Posting anonymous comments on your own blog now?
That’s sad.
You have the same 24 hours as the rest of us. Go somewhere else.
Delishy Tacos, for what it’s worth, I axed G-d if He could inspire you to write something for the Monf of November. G-d replied via text msg saying “why don’t you leave an obnoxious comment on his blog that pressures him to poast something for this monf”. I thought it was a good Idea that so that’s what I did. Lo & Behold, a later you poasted, and I got entertained. For a brief moment, I felt less alone. Thank you and G-d Bless. One day I will buy your book. But only if it’s on sale. I’m on a tight budget.
Yours is a blog I would like to read. Where do you poast?
this blog is the only blog you need to read, Kirk.
I internalized DT’s lessons and landed a hb10 who loves me (for now). You’re doing God’s work all over. Blessings.
Glad to hear, Dome Beers. Congrats on the gf. I’ve got quite the contrary story. You see, I failed to internalize DT’s lessons, and I’m still a drunk. My finances are in tatters. I own zero bitcoins. Zero alt-cryptos. My cock is ravaged by milf-pr0n addiction and I can barely function without booze, cigs, and federal welfare stimulus (which has ended). I wish you and all of my fellow Wh*te brethren good luck in the wars to come. I will be there on the front lines, canon fodder when the time comes. And inside my jacket pocket will be a copy of Finally, Some Good News. Hoorah. S**g H**l.
I listened to deltacos article about becoming your own GF. It blew my mind. Took that advice seriously. Started wearing women’s clothing and panties, lingerie, perfume, the whole shebang. Went on HRT. Got breast implants. Feels pretty pretty pretty good. I get tons of action now with my fellow transfolks. Take the pinkpill.
I once recognized DeliciousTacos at the Brentwood Whole Foods, and sheepishly asked him to autograph a copy of THE PUSSY, which I carry around me at all times. He replied “ugh, fuck off you uncreative betasimp” and muay-thai kicked me into the hot food bar. It was a transcendent moment. Since then I’ve gotten into shape, learned writing and fighting skills, and no longer see myself as as a weak victim. I am now the Main Character in my life story, and I never want or feel the need to ask for anyone’s signature, especially if he’s an AlfaMale. Unless they’re signing a contract to GIVE ME MONEY.
True story by the way.
Got another DT suckcess story: i learned about The Bitcoin from this web-site. now i’m a multi-multi-Billionaire. the rest is history.
i love shit like this man.
thank you for writing about it.