3 Americas: The Florida Cocaine Connection

(Last updated: April 13, 2019)
(Published: March 28, 2019)
3 Americas: The Florida Cocaine Connection
by DR Wolfe

{As I continue a full revision, this is one of the new chapters from my revised autobiography, “3 Americas”.}

{Includes strong language}

Out of the many stories I may tell about my crazy days living in Florida, I’ll start with telling you about the two years I spent living in Orlando. And how I was kicked out of the dorms at the University of Central Florida for smoking a joint in my room (even though I know there were hundreds of other students doing the exact same thing ).

Why was I singled out by the university, while several of their employees I knew were snorting cocaine on the clock (and not being drug tested)?

So, here’s how it began. One evening, while sitting in my dorm room on a Friday night at UCF an uninvited quad Leader walked into my room and didn’t ask, just ordered me to put out my marijuana cigarette. I was sitting around the corner, by the window. Which meant, she was unable to see me until she walked completely into the room.

So, since I knew, or felt, it was an illegal search, since she didn’t knock; and since I already had two qualifying conditions that forced me to make this choice between these two perceived evils; and since she was being such a bitch about it, as politely as possible, I refused.

So the Jewish elite who run this “public” university (and almost every other state university in America), decided to kick me out of the dorms for using marijuana, medically, in my own room, out of public view.

Ironically, about six or eight months later an employee I knew from the UCF’s IT Department, Jim (a former-army clerk), took me over to his cocaine dealer’s house to get some weed, a guy from Orlando named Roger Bisblinghoff, and they ended up injecting me with cocaine! Luckily, I wasn’t infected with anything, but it’s interesting how and who these public universities (who receive public funding) enforce their “rules” against, and the consequences of these arbitrary practices–

At the end of the semester, and after I had lost my appeal, Jim had helped me get into an apartment just below his. We had met a few months earlier in the UCF computer lab where I was working, testing out the university’s new Hulet Packer talking computer (which even back then, in 1985, was better and more stable than any talking computer available today). Jim had smoked a couple joints with me after work, and I quickly became part of his inner circle after moving off campus.

If the “pharmajews” who run the state of Florida really wanted to slow down the opiate crisis they would immediately legalize marijuana for everyone, so they wouldn’t have to ever associate with people like Bisblinghoff.

Other than a few knuckleheads, posing as Florida sheriff’s, everyone knows the the “gateway drug theory” has been completely debunked. Although, forcing casual marijuana users to seek out cannabis on the black market, only helps to perpetuate the use of harder drugs. I remember, they took me into the bathroom, and Jim held down my arm wile Roger carefully inserted the needle into my vain…

Instead of making any reasonable distinction between these two very different drugs, Florida currently has some of the nation’s strictest laws against the casual use of cannabis and one of the worst medical marijuana laws in the country.

Consider this- newly-elected U.S. Senator Rick Scott was elected to be Florida’s governor twice, shortly after his company was accused of “stealing” nine billion dollars from Medicare. And when the former-CEO was questioned under oath about the case, over a hundred times he answered, “I don’t recall”…

Although I didn’t figure this out until later, similarly, Roger Bisblinghoff was providing a lot of the universities employees with cocaine, and like Senator Rick Scott, apparently he was being well protected. And I think that’s why, after I moved into a house a little further from campus (and away from “Jim the Jerk”), someone at the university sent the campus cops after me–

But I’m getting ahead of the story, and the Florida connection about why today I’m being tortured and slowly murdered by the government. But, being kicked out of the dorms was an immediate death sentence for me, as far as getting an education from the University of Central Florida went. this is because there were almost no sidewalks anywhere off campus. In fact, I was told, from time-to-time actual alligators could be seen wandering around the neighborhood.

So this nasty little Jewish administrator (the Dean of Students), and a handful of specially selected righteous assholes, posing as a jury of my peers ( who were actually mostly Jewish kids from south Florida), voted to throw me (an almost completely blind student) out of the dorms for smoking a joint in my room! I told them, I would not be able to safely travel to and from campus because I barely had shadow vision at that time… But it didn’t matter, since I didn’t play ball and had no wealthy relatives to build them a library or buy me a degree.

I have known several people who were in, or had been in, the ROTC, so I think it’s a good program. I wouldn’t want to claim that all ROTC programs are similar to the one at UCF, but here’s when I think where the problem began. And when I became a target of the ignorant anti-marijuana bigots of Florida.

Shortly after I came to UCF, I would run a few miles around the school track every morning, real early, It was located near my dorm, so I took advantage of the opportunity, because there were very few people out and about.

I would go running usually some time around dawn. So the only ones ever out there by the school track that early besides me, was the ROTC students.

Then one morning, after I had been running for a few weeks, some knucklehead from the ROTC group, who I suspect often saw me taking a little puff before I would run. deliberately parked his (or her) motorcycle in the first lane of the track where I was running (maybe to get that “pot head”, and be the “good little tin soldier”). It sure didn’t seem like an “accident”…

Needless to say, on the next lap around I ran face first into his bike and cut myself up pretty good. I hit the bike so hard, I knocked it down. Yet, not one of these want-to-be military bastards came over to see if I was okay. Hmmm…

I can honestly say, the MMJ sure came in handy that morning–

I did slowly get back up and, despite that my legs were bleeding from several places, finished the lap. As a result, I decided to never again run on the university’s track, which until then, was the safest place for me to run.

So, when UCF kicked me out of the dorm for using medical marijuana, later that year; and when the ROTC creeps from UCF tried to break my leg; and the University’s IT Department decided to inject me with cocaine; and one of my suite mates (the Student Body President) stole a $300 PA speaker from me; and after the University cops illegally raided my off campus home (and stole most of my medicine which was stashed in my back bedroom), my feelings about UCF changed significantly, and decided to get the hell out of Orlando before one of these thugs from UCF tried to kill me…but apparently they never gave up–

So when I heard some of these local sports talk morons from the northwest say how wonderful this institution must be for helping a football player like this, with a physical disability, get threw school is a little sickening, given my own experience–

For example, while I worked in the cafeteria, the school quarterback, Dana Thyson, used to sometimes walk around with a broom in his hand. A couple friends from Indiana who worked with me used to joke about how Thyson would have all these hours on his time card, even though he was hardly ever around (pretending to “work”).

Not that this is all that unusual, and most disabled students who need a significant amount of accommodations know this, but the lady who ran the disability office at the University of Central Florida was a complete FREAK! Like the lady out of that Stephen King movie, “Misery”, played by Kathy Bates.

When I was 23-years-old, I decided to transfer to UCF. Except, I also decided to no longer use a white cane, and depend entirely on my shadow vision to get around. This was probably a big mistake, but here’s why–

There is almost always an automatic response that almost all Americans have when they speak to a person who is holding a white cane, and almost every blind person has heard and felt this subtle discrimination, and knows exactly what I mean-

So, despite the protection it provided, I struggled with this dilemma every day, yet refused to given in.

A couple days after I arrived in Orlando that first summer, the disability lady offered to take me to get some dinner when she got off work since the cafeteria was closed and there were no restaurants within walking distance. It really was a complete commuter school back then.

When I got in her car I noticed it was really hot. So after we pulled away I waited for a few minutes to see if she would turn on the air conditioning. It was early June I think, and it had to be about ninety-five degrees outside. But when she didn’t turn on the air I took upon myself to roll down the window. Then just like in the movie, she starts screaming at me, telling me not to touch the window!

And why in the world would she act this way, you ask? Well, she explained ‘Because it was going to mess up her hair!’ So I quickly rolled the window back up, and as I recall (since I’m not Rick Scott), we only said a few things to each other after that…

Knowing the power these “support people” have over the lives of those of us with disabilities, I did what she asked, Since I was now a prisoner in her car and couldn’t get back to the dorm by myself even if I had wanted to. It’s so surprising how many times this has happened to me throughout my life, being held captive by the threat of others, implied or otherwise–

So, rather than sitting down somewhere and enjoying a hot meal in the fine city of Orlando, and giving me a chance to pick her brain about my new environment, she took me through a drive through and then quickly dropped me back off at the dorm. And so, this was how my second day on the campus of the University of Central Florida went.

When I mentioned all of this to another disabled student, I remember they laughed, and said something like, ‘Her hair is so short you couldn’t mess it up with a leaf blower’. I always remembered this funny comparison, because I remember I could hear someone nearby, who was using a leaf blower.

I suppose this is why, when I heard about the disabled football player from UCF being drafted by Paul Allen and the Seattle Seahawks in the first round, I felt it was important that the record was set straight about Orlando’s University of Central Florida (ironically, also the home of my sick friends from Disney, who I also wrote about). I wanted to make sure history knew that this is not how “they” normally treat people with disabilities at UCF, unless they can get something out of them, like they apparently did with Shaquem Griffin…who is obviously, a great athlete, who happens to have an impairment–