Chopper Hostel

I knew when I bought this place it was gonna be a matter of just jumpin’ in and do what I have to to transform what was literally nothing but four acres of dirty diapers surrounded by meth heads and forgotten into a campground people would like to travel to. The physical aspect of reclaiming the property from under its disgusting blanket was something I could handle without thinkin’ about. It’s all the other fires that needed to constantly be put out that I wasn’t prepared for.

When I set off to get this place, I paid a lawyer a couple of hundred to finalize the deed and everything that needed to be done, back taxes and such. This all done at least the property was mine, bury me here. It’s a strong feeling knowin’ you got a roof, no matter how leaky, to crawl under no matter what.

I’ve been wakin’ up and choppin’ the days wood before my first cup of coffee. Been burnin’ some junk wood but now that the snow’s flyin’ I’m up in the mornin’ choppin’ locust. I’ll be just as warm as I wanna work, wood heat is simple.

Yesterday was no different than today. First thing, choppin’ locust and locust sucks to chop with an axe and a sledgehammer. I’ve gotten pretty good at it. I can chop the days wood while coffee is brewin’. By the time I’m done I can sit down with a warm cup and put out today’s fires, once I figure out what’s burning.

With a fresh 4″ of powder, a warm cup of mud in my hand, I kicked down the driveway to check the mail while Butters is actin’ like a retard playin’ in the snow…which he is. It’s gonna be a good day in the studio and maybe I’ll do some writing, I need to brush my teeth.

It’s a about 50 yards to the mailbox, just a long enough walk to take a few hits of Mary Jane to accentuate that cup-o-Joe and send the day in the right direction. Damn it’s good to be a gangster.

I only check the mail once a week or so, but I really don’t get much but water and power bills. I get about a week before they start gettin’ fussy and they have to be paid. No surprises.

It makes me feel good that I was able to make all this work without any consistent signs of income, money’s hit and miss but things are lookin’ up. I moved to an area where I can afford to live but I’m seriously in the thick of it and jobs are few and far between but I’ve been makin’ it, no complaints.

Hangin’ my jacket on the hook by the woodstove, I take a seat by the easel and shuffle through the day’s bad news. Third letter down through the stack of the usual junk mail I stumble on a way to important piece of registered mail with the great seal of West Virginia blazoned across the front of it. WHAT-THE-FUCK! I’m no legal genius (although I’ve been arrested a few times) but good news doesn’t come registered mail.

That was Friday, I couldn’t bring myself to open it until late Saturday afternoon. I finally knuckled under and dug into it…it felt like I was waiting for the results to an AIDS test but less confident in the outcome. Here we go…it’s from the West Virginia Auditors office, and they have their hand out!

My taxes here are $75 a year here and I thought I was up to date, but I was a payment behind, and somebody decided they would rather own my property, paid the $75 and caused me over 2k in fines and fees due by the 12th or I LOSE all of my hard work!

I guess it’s common practice in these parts and the conglomerate that goes through buying property has no regard for the hard work I’ve put into this place, they just want the property. I gotta stop this and get a check to the sheriff’s office for a couple of grand by December 12, today is the 1st

I have no idea how I’m gonna pull this off, I barely have money for groceries and I’m not selling the bike! I hate surprises, I guess I’ll be taking in a few commissions after all…what ‘cha got?!

I literally have to get some work in here or I’m gonna lose Chopper Hostel! I really was lookin’ to slow down on commissions, but I have to do whatever I can to get this bill paid. I can’t cut any huge deals, but I’ll hook you up.

I’ve been on the phone tryin’ to pull funds together but the people I know aren’t in any better shape than I am. I’m open to ways to make a few bucks so hit me up. I’m panicking, I ain’t gonna lie.

I can resolve any problem with accelerant, fire, brute strength and stupidity but not this time. I need to put out an all-hands-on deck and ask you to help out saving my place. This ain’t a joke, scam, hustle or the easy way out… it’s the only option while I try to shuffle things around behind the scenes.

Like I said, I’m accepting a couple of commissions, if you’re interested you can contact me here or at my e-mail hamsteakdawg@gmail.com . If don’t need a painting and you would still like to help, I am happily accepting donations with the form below.

I’m scrambling to get this taken care of as quickly as possible and really need your help keepin’ the dream goin’. I appreciate you reading this far and hope you can help keep this dump alive. I’ll update thimgs in a few days to keep you updated…thanks again “GTP” out!