Besides the obvious (government, Bush, the dumbing-down of society, etc.), another major contributor to the loss of liberty & freedom in America is due to whiners and complainers – you know, they used to be called busybodies. But they’re more than just busybodies these days. These are the jerks and prudes that live next door to everyone who watch you like a hawk to find something to complain about, and then promptly & incessantly bitch, whine, and moan about it to any authority they can – landlords, city hall, county sherrif, police, etc. until you get in trouble for just living your own life and minding your own business. It’s these assholes who are responsible for loss of so many everyday freedoms - things you may take for granted, like what vehicle you choose to own, what color to paint your house, or what flowers to plant in your garden. Seriously, stand up for yourselves! Next time the BUSYBODY next door stares you down giving you dirty looks, tell ‘em to mind their own effin’ business!!

Now, I’ve always said that if I won the lottery and decided to buy a house, my #1 concern would be that I refuse to live anywhere where there are any “rules” against what I can and can not own or do. You see, I’m from a different generation. When I was a kid, we learned that we had freedom in America and that your home was your castle. And as much as I hate yuppies, it’s still the biggest load of horseshit that I’ve ever heard that ANYONE would have any effing right to tell you what you can and can not do or own! NO ONE should be able to stand there and complain and bitch and moan about your vehicle, landscaping, drapery, etc. I watch a lot of HGTV and I’ve seen things where like “the neighborhood (BUSYBODIES)” wouldn’t “allow” a fence that was oh say 24 inches high it had to be 22, you know, small shit like that. Real total horseshit, you know. It’s YOUR house, you OWN it, and NO ONE should have any gods damn right to tell you what you can and can’t do! So, if I ever won the lotto and bought a house, I’d tell my realtor that the #1 thing I want is to live where there are NO RULES and NO BUSYBODIES telling me what I can and can’t do or own!!!!!

And this really upset me the other day, too. I was reading around the ‘net about how vans & RVs are getting banned from parking on the street in front of the owner’s house, and even not allowed in your own driveway or garage. And it’s because BUSYBODIES can’t MIND THEIR OWN BUSINESS and whine, bitch & moan to the city hall and at town meetings about it - “Ohhhh my God, my neighbor has a hi-top conversion van, it’s the end of the world!! Oh I just can’t LIVE as long as that thing’s down the street from me! Waaaaaaahhhh! I’m a spoiled, pompous little retard who has nothing more important going on in my life so just the sight of anyone else enjoying their life, liberty and freedom just drives me crazy and you just HAVE to get rid of that van!”

And THAT is the downfall of America! Bitchy, whiny, NOSEY people who can’t mind their own business to save their lives! Seriously – it doesn’t hurt anyone or anything if a neighbor owns a certain vehicle or opts for country style fence over an ultra modern design or what have you!!! All it “hurts” is the whiney little pissant who is so bothered by what everyone else is doing that they have to complain and petition against EVERYONE ELSE’S FREEDOM & RIGHTS!!! Thus, it’s the whining BUSYBODY who hurts EVERYONE ELSE! And if you’re SOOO bothered by what everyone else is doing, then YOU, the busybody, need to SEEK PROFESSIONAL HELP in dealing with why you are so bothered by what everyone else owns or does!!! YOU’RE ruining America!! MIND YOUR OWN BUSINESS!!

I know it’s been a while, but I’ve decided to go ahead and link this new blog to my site rather than contue on with a site-specific blog. I’ve also gotten myself a van. It’s quite nicer than anything I ever thought that someone as poor as I am would ever be able to own. I hope it lasts because if it doesn’t, then I’ll be completely homeless, with no hope of ever being a part of the mobile homeless community again. I’ve also started forums on my web site and decided now that I have the transportation, to do a little local advertising for the site and hopefully get some users to join up in the forum. I’m kind of hoping that maybe instead of getting death threats from the local ultra-rich yuppies in control, that an active forum could become the basis for getting involved and having a voice in local politics, policies and laws.

Life, to me, always seems to be easier for almost everyone else. Which brings me to another reason for starting this blog… I’ve always felt that the story of someone truly disadvantaged needs to be told. You see, there’s other blogs and books written about being poor, homeless, or living in your car, that are written by people who either willingly gave up six-figure salaries and prestigious careers, or lost them through unfortunate circumstances. And yes, street life is hard, I know that first hand, but I have a real tough time feeling too sorry Ivy league graduates who’ve lived the good life and either lost it or gave it up by choice. And then they get back on their feet through writing a popular blog or getting a book deal, but you don’t hear any stories from people like me who’ve never had anything. And I don’t mean just money. I mean to truly have nothing. To come from poverty, to live in poverty, to be homeless… No rich parents to put you through college, no good looks to sail on, or any talents to work with. I have heard a few stories of others born to poor families who write about it and get rich, and I couldn’t help but think, “Well, geez, if I looked like a supermodel, I’d be a success story too!”  But life isn’t so easy for everyone. For some of us, life doesn’t work out. For some of us, nothing ever works out. And that’s the story of my life. That’s what I’m here to tell.

So, as I was saying, it must be easier for the former suburban-$500,000 townhouse-soccer-moms to start out as a mobile homeless person when they’ve had the resources to have bought their car brand new and can trust that it will run for years to come and cross the country without fail. But what if you come from poverty? For me, I honestly never expected to have a driver’s license in my lifetime. That’s the kind of poverty I come from. My parents wouldn’t let me learn to drive at 16 like most people, and I had no friends to help me either. And then with being homeless and poor, I never thought I would drive. And now I’ve only had a license for four years – licensed at the age of 26. I saw a car in the newspaper for $300. And not just a car, but my dream car. A car that as a kid, I liked and wanted. And when I saw it in real life for the first time, I fell completely in love with it and bought it. A mid-80’s Chrysler Le Baron – the most gorgeous cars ever made. Unfortunately though, they’re total bombs. Especially mine. None of the previous owners took care of it. Not at all.

As much as I’d love to show my baby off, I won’t, for purposes of privacy and anonymity. But, just because it’s kind of interesting, my favorite car was also Frank Sinatra’s favorite car.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

See, isn’t that a GORGEOUS car?!? (In my opinion, mine is even more gorgeous than that. The Le Barons are absolutely stunning in burgundy!)

I’m going to miss it though. The time has come to give up on my baby. It’s got a new engine, new transmission, new starter, all new suspension, and so much else has been replaced, and it still can barely get to the mailbox and back. Even if some more ‘cheaper’ fixes could make my car run a little better, the point is, it wouldn’t get me 10 miles out of town, let alone 1000+. I need more than a daily beater, I need a good long distance car. I need something I can live in for years to come. So my decision to buy another car is extremely critical. To make matters more complicated, I don’t have a dime to my name. I only have credit.

And I’ve gone out on a limb for my family, getting credit cards for us to live off of for the past few years. Now (including my student loans), I’m around $10,000 in debt. But anyway, as I was saying, I’ve gone out on a limb, maxing out 4 credit cards to buy groceries, medicine, and everything else needed for our survival, and of course, it’s not even appreciated. That’s why I want to get out of here. I’m 30 years old, beaten, tired, and defeated. But deep inside, I’m not quite dead yet, you know. But my family’s negative attitudes, negative view of me and their controlling-ness has just become too draining to bear any longer.

But before I can leave, I need a car to get me out of here, and I only have $2000 (of credit) with which to find something that doesn’t have nearly 200,000 miles on it. And that’s hard to do in my area. Once again, if I lived in a city where things are normal, you can find $1000 used cars. But here, used cars start at $4000, rock bottom. And even at $4-5k, you’re only going to get something comparable to what I have now: a mid-late 80’s model with 180,000 miles on it. So you see, I have a very hard decision to make. Whatever car I buy, I have to live in. It’s easier for people who’ve had money and have decent cars to start out with. I have nothing and come from nothing, and my life and the lives of my cats depend on whatever car I do get.

So I’m sorry that I can’t feel too terribly sorry for people who have lived life on easy street. Some of us out there don’t come from money or have any resources to work with.

I vote nice things.

I’ve been painting lately. No, I’m not great or anything, but I do try my very best. I’ve sold a couple of paintings online (not for much, under $10 each) and several haven’t sold. Although, oddly enough, the bizarre/dark/gothic/horror paintings generated interest while the “nice” stuff like portraits of my cats and scenic stuff didn’t. But since I’m otherwise terribly untalented, unskilled and have nothing else to offer the world, I’ve been thinking that I’d look for places where there’s other street vendors and (hopefully) sell some paintings to afford cat food, gas, insurance, you know, necessary stuff like that. And I was thinking that the audience or general population around would be older folks, local (to wherever I’m at) seniors and older tourists. So, I was thinking of getting a head start (well, if anyone can give me a break from their demands on my time) and painting some scenic things. I think scenic “nice” paintings will work on the road as a mobile homeless street vendor and at flea markets and stuff. The whole demons, blood & guts thing works online, but I don’t see that working on the road. I could be wrong though..?  *sigh*

Destined to be Destitute is the story of someone who never made it in life. It’s my story, and I will be blogging about my lifetime of poverty, homelessness and car-living. The term used in the URL, gutterpunk, refers to my years of being homeless as a teenager. A gutterpunk is typically a kid that’s either unwanted or abused and chooses to live on the streets instead. Though I’m not a kid anymore – I’m 30 years old – but I’m still poor/homeless and have really only seen life through the eyes of a street person.

For a little bit of a back-story on me, I go by Ashe (pronounced “ash”), so that’s what you can refer to me as. I’m a woman who was born to a poor/lower middle class family in West Virginia. I’m a 7th generation West Virginian, all of which has been nothing but in poverty in my family. Now, I don’t say this to be hateful or spiteful towards my family, it’s just a fact of the matter in how I personally feel about my childhood. But anyway, I had a rough childhood, although not physically abused in any way, I was just unwanted and uncared about. School was a big part of the problem because I was severely bullied and never fit in – and got the blame and punishment for the bullying, which I believe caused my mom to not care about me. And then I became homeless and lived on the streets on the west coast in my teens, so I know all too well the realities of homelessness and street life. My grandmother had me come back home to West Virginia ten years ago. Almost right away, I went to college and got a computer degree, but six years later still have never been given a job due to the rampant discrimination around here. (I became disabled shortly after returning home as well, but that may or may not get discussed in the future.) So, here I am, 30 years old, in debt, and about to hit the road as a mobile homeless person. And that’s what this blog will be about.