Well I guess I'll do one of these for lack of something better to do wile its raining.
My name is Diagaro Enthio it means: me alive.
I have been traveling most all my life, it started when I was about 13 I got in trouble for selling pot at school and my mom told me to get out I bummed around town for a couple of weeks and came and lived in the shed for a wile till she found me and kicked my ass then reported me a run away and when the police brought me back to her she handed me the keys to an old (to me at the time it was old) pickup truck {a '86 dodge d-50 with a 5 speed and a 4 cylinder} and said "get it and your ass outta here" and dont come back till you figure out a better life plan.
I had no idea how to drive but after about an hour of familiarizing my self with the controls and guessing how they worked I drove away stalling it several times within a week I was drifting and powershifting like a F-1 driver - though I was some hott shit
till I got some tickets and ran I drove north on I-25 from Denver intent on returning to my home town in Seattle the truck blew the head gasket somewhere around Wheatland WY and i forced it to limp into Casper where I parked for the night in a napa parking lot and the next morning in a nut shell the woner of the store traded me straight across for his old farm truck - a 1982 dodge 250 with a a 9 foot bed and a club cab. the thing was big enough that even then at 5'6" I could lay straight across the bench seat. I had never driven a automatic before all I knew was that it only had 3 gears instead of 5 so I drove it liek a stick. the 4 barreled 318 screamed through the rest of Wyoming and Montanan (with the exception of stopping to gas and go - I have no clue how I never got caught) in fourth of July pass somewhere near the Idaho Montanan border I hit a fox or a lynx (something with big ears) at about 90 the blood splatter on the grille and undercarrage was horrific. I picked upa hitchiker in ritzville washington and took him all the way to everette he payed for gas the rest of hte way cause he was certain I would get nailed for driving off with out paying for gas on hwy 2 (and I would have too now I know that)
after I dropped him off I was staring at some ass on the side of the road and nailed someone rear end and the rozzies took me to jail for reckless driving and nvol (no valid operators licence) so for he next 3 to 5 years I urban camped, stole cars, bought cars, went to jail for driving alot, bummed the U-district - never broadway or the westlke center (fags!)
often drove back to Denver to see my sister sometimes to Portland for shows meet lots of hitcher kids but they alwase annoyed me and I kicked em out of my cars.
meet a dude names Dan Spriggs from lancing Michigan and his dumbass friend andrew? i dont remember we and I went to San Diego I was not yet 18 we bummed around pacific beach sellin' crystal and herb living in a Porsche 944 that his legitimate plumber boss kicked down to him till he was asked to go pick up a shipment from Tijuana never seen him again you can only guess what happened to a non-Latino American with a Porsche in TJ . . .
back to Seattle after I got my ass stomped by some drunken surfer kids and then met a dood named Troy Liston who we took a loaded Chrysler neon from puppet (if you ever came through Seattle in the last 10 years you probably know the dude - looks and acts like gollom from lotr) we sold of the system and bought two tickets to Petersburg Alaska and when we got there he disappeared off to the bearing sea and I got stuck in a cannery I camped out around the island, i lived in a dope ass three story cabbin (mentioned here http://squattheplanet.com/diy-die/wilderness-squatting/10706-stp-treehouse-commune.html ) and at a impromptu tent city on the island 5 dollars a night for a tarp covered house shaped frame on a wood platform. I spoke to natives with drinking problems, train hoppers gone crab fishermen and all other sorts of interesting people till one night I got too drunk and tried to shoot this red neck from Oklahoma with a modified 12 guage flare gun - it misfired. Needless to say I was no longer welcome there. He was mad that I sold dope in SD fuck him.
Since those early days I have been sticking to my same ol' stomping grounds; seattle, denver and the bay.
But a few summers ago I met some little babochka in Seattle and we drove to troy NY and I got her knocked up and its was touch and go for the last 21 + months and now she has some weasle of a new BF and I cant stay around my kid my daughter is better off with a absent father and a pussy step father and psycho muther than a dead step father and muther and a father in prison for 20 to life.
This next chapter is all about me.
So if you meet me out there don't fuck with me. Go where I'm going and do things how I say or kick rocks I have no time to follow anymore.
Right now I am gearing up for an epic Appalachian trail hike then to to eastern sea board to acquire a sailboat that I will sail down the eastern seaboard to key west and the rest of the Caribbean then one day maybe across the Atlantic.
-Captain Diagaro
My name is Diagaro Enthio it means: me alive.
I have been traveling most all my life, it started when I was about 13 I got in trouble for selling pot at school and my mom told me to get out I bummed around town for a couple of weeks and came and lived in the shed for a wile till she found me and kicked my ass then reported me a run away and when the police brought me back to her she handed me the keys to an old (to me at the time it was old) pickup truck {a '86 dodge d-50 with a 5 speed and a 4 cylinder} and said "get it and your ass outta here" and dont come back till you figure out a better life plan.
I had no idea how to drive but after about an hour of familiarizing my self with the controls and guessing how they worked I drove away stalling it several times within a week I was drifting and powershifting like a F-1 driver - though I was some hott shit
till I got some tickets and ran I drove north on I-25 from Denver intent on returning to my home town in Seattle the truck blew the head gasket somewhere around Wheatland WY and i forced it to limp into Casper where I parked for the night in a napa parking lot and the next morning in a nut shell the woner of the store traded me straight across for his old farm truck - a 1982 dodge 250 with a a 9 foot bed and a club cab. the thing was big enough that even then at 5'6" I could lay straight across the bench seat. I had never driven a automatic before all I knew was that it only had 3 gears instead of 5 so I drove it liek a stick. the 4 barreled 318 screamed through the rest of Wyoming and Montanan (with the exception of stopping to gas and go - I have no clue how I never got caught) in fourth of July pass somewhere near the Idaho Montanan border I hit a fox or a lynx (something with big ears) at about 90 the blood splatter on the grille and undercarrage was horrific. I picked upa hitchiker in ritzville washington and took him all the way to everette he payed for gas the rest of hte way cause he was certain I would get nailed for driving off with out paying for gas on hwy 2 (and I would have too now I know that)
after I dropped him off I was staring at some ass on the side of the road and nailed someone rear end and the rozzies took me to jail for reckless driving and nvol (no valid operators licence) so for he next 3 to 5 years I urban camped, stole cars, bought cars, went to jail for driving alot, bummed the U-district - never broadway or the westlke center (fags!)
often drove back to Denver to see my sister sometimes to Portland for shows meet lots of hitcher kids but they alwase annoyed me and I kicked em out of my cars.
meet a dude names Dan Spriggs from lancing Michigan and his dumbass friend andrew? i dont remember we and I went to San Diego I was not yet 18 we bummed around pacific beach sellin' crystal and herb living in a Porsche 944 that his legitimate plumber boss kicked down to him till he was asked to go pick up a shipment from Tijuana never seen him again you can only guess what happened to a non-Latino American with a Porsche in TJ . . .
back to Seattle after I got my ass stomped by some drunken surfer kids and then met a dood named Troy Liston who we took a loaded Chrysler neon from puppet (if you ever came through Seattle in the last 10 years you probably know the dude - looks and acts like gollom from lotr) we sold of the system and bought two tickets to Petersburg Alaska and when we got there he disappeared off to the bearing sea and I got stuck in a cannery I camped out around the island, i lived in a dope ass three story cabbin (mentioned here http://squattheplanet.com/diy-die/wilderness-squatting/10706-stp-treehouse-commune.html ) and at a impromptu tent city on the island 5 dollars a night for a tarp covered house shaped frame on a wood platform. I spoke to natives with drinking problems, train hoppers gone crab fishermen and all other sorts of interesting people till one night I got too drunk and tried to shoot this red neck from Oklahoma with a modified 12 guage flare gun - it misfired. Needless to say I was no longer welcome there. He was mad that I sold dope in SD fuck him.
Since those early days I have been sticking to my same ol' stomping grounds; seattle, denver and the bay.
But a few summers ago I met some little babochka in Seattle and we drove to troy NY and I got her knocked up and its was touch and go for the last 21 + months and now she has some weasle of a new BF and I cant stay around my kid my daughter is better off with a absent father and a pussy step father and psycho muther than a dead step father and muther and a father in prison for 20 to life.
This next chapter is all about me.
So if you meet me out there don't fuck with me. Go where I'm going and do things how I say or kick rocks I have no time to follow anymore.
Right now I am gearing up for an epic Appalachian trail hike then to to eastern sea board to acquire a sailboat that I will sail down the eastern seaboard to key west and the rest of the Caribbean then one day maybe across the Atlantic.
-Captain Diagaro
