147 En Trance

Twenty minutes matters quite a lot in this tale I have been telling you all these years.



When you are engaged in the world at the root of its function, you will need to remember your time allowance, before you get kicked out.



Twenty Minutes: How long it takes your soul to leave your body after you die. We have “Wakes” for this reason. Sometimes, a body may awaken after two days, but there is no soul left inside. Beware of such an awakening. Zombie.



Twenty Minutes: The amount of time you are afforded after you enter a celebration of strange things to which you have not been officially invited.


Twenty Minutes: How long it takes for a certain stimulant to wear off. Until then, the world is your own, private moon party, no matter who has a telescope.



You, my friend, are officially invited to this here party: this tale, as we head on towards All Hallows Eve. And for that, I apologize to you. You do not deserve to witness this part of the story.










ENTRANCE














There exist entrances into other places which you may never see, here on this tiny blue marble, alone in the eternity of space.


Such entrances are not seen by those who stumble along life’s path with their eyes half-open, like zombies, looking for their own brain.


The rest of us are awake, with eyes wide open, and we are in a state of constant, total amazement.


Is this you?



I think you are.






This tale will get worse before it improves, TDC willies Enjoyer. There is redemption at the end, but you have to earn it. Sorry about that. You are a witness to hell, and that is the price. The cost is, indeed, considerably more.




Let’s check this out, my friend. I won’t leave you behind, if you have the guts to follow.



En-Trance is a French term that makes you all hypnotized and shit.


Here, we three punks discovered all the meanings of Entrance.


We would not find Sean, because he was off at Tellesco’s new place. But Minacca was there, and she did not approve of us showing up. Inside, we saw that freaky dude Glinty McFlintlock; a sweet old photographer who, as it would turn out, was an angry old cowboy ghost who used to paint his wagon hearse with a white circle K.



Yeah, there are entrances you may never see.


God Help You if you ever do. It could change everything.



Let’s go.



+++++++++++++++++



After we exited Katheena's car Orion, I stopped my two best friends to have a pre-game booster. One was staggering, and this indicated the manner in which the other two of us would be soon engaging, because we three young punk bastards had chust polished off a fifth of gin.



“Joseph, Katheena, hold on a bit. I got something here.”


I pulled out a small, white envelope and a straw.



Remember when the Little Lion Man stood behind us at the water reservoir with the giant blood moon glimmering upon it’s surface? Ant Knee and I done made a deal.


Over the chain link fence.



Then Joey began to talk about how Tommy Hewitt’s death was his fault.



Babysitter.


-------------------------


I reached in my pocket for my ID card, and there, upon the gleaming hood of Katheena’s beautiful bitch, I brushed off the desert dust and lined us up.



The black bird spread its wings wide.




Crows record our human condition, lest you have forgotten.



The first line was always the best. Twenty minutes later, you would be wanting more. And then, after many more, you would keep trying to chase the feeling of the first one.


Such a pursuit will always end in despair, ugliness, and fiending for more.


Never engage in such behavior.


Ever.



What follows is not an endorsement of bad things at all. It’s simply a description of a bad time, many years ago, which no one should ever have done.



I waited to see how Katheena felt about this Entrance into another World.


She bent, did it, then stood, and shrugged.


Of course, Joey and I watched her bend over in her short, black dress, and filled our eyes with her lovely back-side.



Now don't look at me that way. You would have looked. Man or woman, we all do this sort of thing.





She handed the straw to Joey.


She watched Joey do his.


She waited as I did mine, probably checking out my own rear. Why do women check out men's butts? Not much to see there, but is it biologically coded? To see if a dude has good pushing muscles back there? Fuck muscles?


I stood back up, rubbing my gums with the remainder of desert dust from her car's hood and I looked over to her.


Huh.



A smile grew across her face.





She came up to me and wrapped her arms around my waist. “Hug me.”



I did, and she started to giggle. It was pretty, like the tinkle of crystal goblets and bone china plates. I wanted to shush her, but what the hell. No harsh from me, then and there.




Joey woke the hell up. “Weeeee-ill! Where have I been?”



"Welcome back, Joseph. We off to the moon."



Indeed, a feeling of warmth and tingle crept from my legs to my sexual parts, and then up my back, down my arms, and then into my head.


A smile formed on my face that would not go away.




Katheena kissed my face all over, and it felt like I could fly off into the night sky without a care.



Again, this was something that would never exist again. Never chase such a thing. Nothing good results from it. You will see.











We walked across the tar to the front doors like we were the crown jewels of the world, as the moon overhead erupted out of it's death shroud of rain clouds and glared down on the Earth.




One of those chauffeurs came over and greeted us as we made our way to the front doors.



“Hi, I’m Gregory. Where is your car?”


I think, looking back, that he didn’t want us to be all parked sideways or someshit and blocking the lone lane out, which would inconvenience his employer when it was time to leave.




You know that we would be inconveniencing everyone, but not in that manner. We would be jetting off in twenty minutes, after the carnage involved.




Katheena smiled at him and he probably wet himself. She was a beautiful night angel from the bright moon. “We got dropped off, while you and those boys have been chugging from that flask over there.” She nodded at the group of men watching us.



Gregory halted for a bit as we rang the doorbell.



An older gent in a tuxedo greeted us. “Hallow there. Are you invited?”


Katheena turned back to Gregory and said loudly, “Thank you Gregory, that will be all. Don’t scratch the bumper again.”


She turned back to Jeeves. “Yes, we are invited.”


The older gent stepped back politely and Gregory turned on his heel and went back to his group.



Dayam, dude, Katheena showed real mettle.




We followed the butler inside through the Entrance.





We were fully Entranced, my friend.




This would not end well.









LINKS




Why is thedailycolumn.com an online place that will be replicated after the FB follows G+ into oblivion? OK, FB will probably always be around, but here’s an interesting 8 minute vid by Chris Poole about online anonymity and why it is important.

And why it will outlast other places. Cyber real is different than real real.








Oh, yeah. The world was supposed to “end” yesterday or something. Like it was supposed to end back in May. …So, how about some recipes for tasty food?





Zombies.


Blood stains and their usefulness.








Drink blood, or drink light beer? Rum and coke? It says a lot about you, mister man.







With the Occupy Everywhere “rebellion” going on everywhere, is there a danger that someone could take it over? There is anger and motivation involved on those places. All is needed is some egomaniac, and the next thing you know, a few million zombies will be created. And here’s why. Some folks don’t have a fist fucking clue.




What do you bet? I mean, do you bet on anything? Here are the 7 worst things that folks bet on and expect to win.







Why do we dream, and how does it happen?











Led Zep’s Whole Lotta Love, by that sound effects guy from the Police Academy movies. Rocking and ramping.















Dark Matter. No, not speckled in your under garments. But real evidence found by the Fermi telescope. Interesting.













God Help You.


God Help Us All.



---willies out.













OK, one more for you.










.

146 Imbationation Begins

.

“Katheena, once we start down this path, there is no turning back. Are you sure that you want to do this?”


“Will, it’s about time that I joined you guys in this shit that you do.”





“Yeah, but we have done some very bad things.”

“I know. You’ve told me. So here, I will follow you. Enough said.”




“Huh. Well, cool. Chust remember this; we are all in this together, no turning back. No bail.”


She leaned over and slipped me her tongue.


Dayam. Chick was showing her mettle.


Gobless her.




---------------------------



She drove her golden car with the gold-tinted windows and the giant black bird across its hood down the looooooong, tree-lined lane.



Joey said, “Are we there yet?”




Indeed, as we crept along, the road ahead stretched off into the night sky, where Plutonian shores awaited us. Pluto has a moon called Charon, and it is the farthest moon from our sun that can reflect its angry light.




The crown of a lovely, old mansion peaked over a grass-covered dune ahead, and then the palace grew upwards into the night sky.



“Oh. My goodness, Will. What the fuck?”

“I know. Minacca has money. Told you.”




Joey whistled. “Dude. They have a wine cellar?”


That was not appropriate.






“OK Katheena, now don’t forget. You need to continue on to the land keeper’s building straight ahead. The car garages are on the other side of this place. There is a huge fountain sitting there in the middle of the circular part, but ignore it. Chust drive straight past it.”


“OK. Thanks for the second by second updates, Will.”




I smiled. “Sorry. The gin is kicking in.”

She giggled. “Yup. Me too.”




The fountain appeared, and we saw that there were limousines parked all around it. Other cars of various, expensive design and purchase were arraigned on the far side of the circle, in a lot.


A cloud of smoke arose from where those were parked. Chauffeurs gathered there to gossip about their bosses and smoke cigarettes.



Katheena said, “Oh. Fuck.”


I said, “Katheena, just keep going, don’t stop, don’t speed up. Do Not Panic.”


Joey said, “There is a partay going on!” Joey was fully into the gin buzz now.





We should have done a three-point turn. But we didn’t.




Ya know.









We slid quietly by the large circle, and I could see the faces of those men in their driving suits and caps. Most of them held ciggies in their hands, and one was handing a silver flask to another. They were too busy gossiping to notice such a long, golden car on the other end of the driveway, where no overhead streetlamps would make it glint and sparkle.



We were stealthy.




Katheena reached the structure, and then she slowly crept her car to the right, and then reversed to back it in on the other side, in the dark.



We had made it.


But what the hell was going on this night? We will find out, my friend.



“Will. How do we get in?”


“Weeeee-illllll! We will walk in through the front doors like we own that fucking place! Like a fucking boss.”


“No, Joseph. There’s a servant’s entrance. There’s a stair well that leads up to the third floor.”






“Will, how did you enter this place when you came here that day?”


“Well, Katheena, I went in through the front doors.”





“And from where did you exit?”


“Uh, from the front doors.”





“So, did you get a good look at the rest of the layout of this fucking huge place while you were inside?”


“Uh, nope.”







“Will, do you think that they might have security alarms and that kind of shit?”


“Yeah, prolly. Damn.”







Little Lion Man had nailed it.



We would have to go in through the front doors. And then, try to get back out through them again, or else risk getting lost in that maze.





Joey shlurred when he shpoke. “Lesh go!”





Whoa.





Wait a minute.







Just wait a minute.






Cool?





Uh,







Nope.






Damn.






We would need twenty minutes to get in and get out.







I had something.





In case it was needed.







Fuck.






It would become our savior, our saint, and our bane.





There would be only it.

Katheena, I apologize for what I showed you. I never intended to introduce you to a high, white mountain of elation and instant power, which held valleys of shadow and destruction below it, on every side.


That was not my intention for you.


I chust was not thinking.


I chust wasn't...


Thinking






The road to perdition is paved with the stones of good intentions.



The way back up out of Hell is found with Redemption.

I wish I could redeem.



Too Late.






Sorry.

.
































.

145 Garland Imbation

Did you read the very last lines from the previous post? You should pay more attention, my friend.




Sleepy Time.



Mom had put Galen and Spamela to bed, and then brewed some of that “Sleepy Time” tea for her and Katheena before Joey and I came back in from our “palaver” with Ant Knee at the water reservoir.



Mom and I chatted about Katheena for a bit as she washed and dried her two, fancy tea cups and plates and put them away, and then she went off to bed. Only when I was certain that my home was safe and secure, then did I sneak out.


You know it baby.



In the red moonlight, I walked to the long, beautiful car sitting next to the water reservoir. My two best friends sat inside, and there awaited a freshly bought sack of ice cold brewskies.



We were going to take a trip. This might involve imbation.




Our friend had his head stuck up inside some rich bitch's pussy, and we were going to help him pull it back out.









The liar’s moon ignored we three and glowed behind clouds as we roared along to the north of Fuckno. It was important to stay away from traffic while we held imbation at bay for a bit. We would then travel along the top edge of the megalopolis towards the upper west side, where there lay fig tree orchards and stately mansions.



“You remember how to get there?”

“Yup. I drove there, and I drove back from there. I’ll let you know when to take the turns. I never knew that those huge places existed.”




“Hey you guys, ya wanna beer now?”

“Fuck yeah.”

“Me, too.”



-----------------------------


Been a long time since I littered. Back then, everything would go out the window. Lit ciggy butt-ends, fast food wrappers, crushed beer cans. Not my problem. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust, return everything to the earth.



Being such a young and ignorant asshole, I hadn’t considered how long it would take the desert to break down everything I tossed out the window. How long people would have to look at my shit scattered all over the countryside until it got washed away by a rare rainfall arroyo might take years.



Hey, don't look at me that way.


I was young and dumb.



-------------------------



The highest road that crossed above the top of Fuckno back then was Herndon Avenue. It was a crumbly, sketchy line of tar, long baked by the mean desert sun into a former memory of itself. Perfect for drifting and spitting chunks.




Of course, you know that Katheena took care of her beautiful car. Better than I had my own. She was not a horny teenage boy full of mischief and hormones who showed off his driving skills as if he was invincible.




She was a horny teenage girl full of mischief and hormones who showed off her body with tight fitting clothing. The damage would be done to your head, not to her car.



I rolled down the window and chucked the empties out. Katheena punched my arm.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

“Hah?”




“You just threw all that shit out of the window!”

“So?”




“So? Get a clue Will! All our finger prints are on them!”

“Well, better outside than have them here in the car if you get stopped!”




“That shit just might get us stopped!”

“Katheena, there’s no one out here but us, tumbleweeds, and some old cowboy ghosts. We don’t need empty beer cans in here to bring us any more trouble. Jeez.”




Joey tapped my shoulder. “Weee-ill. Katheeeena has a place to put 'em. They slide through into the trunk from between these two seats back here. There’s a false wall in her trunk so they can't be seen. I thought you knew?”




“Wow. That’s pretty cool, Katheena. Sorry.”

She shook her head. Then she took a breath and punched my arm again.

“Fucker.”









Herndon Avenue began to get tighter, as if instead of simply ending the road and making a left turn to south, the city engineers decided to narrow the road. Soon we would be on a tightrope.




And there it was. This was the turn that led to the hidden parts of Fuckno, from the north end. Doubtless there were other, better paths that the extremely wealthy used to arrive home. Hell, they might even have helipads and landing strips.




Katheena turned onto Garland Avenue from Herndon Avenue and headed south.


Yes, Fuckno had Avenues that ran from East to West, and they also had Avenues that ran from North to South. Most cities will help out the navigator by differentiating the X axis from the Y axis with Avenues crossing Streets. Well, now you have an idea about Fuckno.


Soon we would cover roads that were not indicated on any map. I wonder if they still are that way these days.


Huh.



We slowed because it was dark, but I had a feel for the area.



It began to look familiar.



We came upon it.


It was a long lane of solid tar, lined with stately trees that must have been irrigated from long, buried, expensive water lines. It was, if you recall, a bit of long driveway.


We passed it and pulled to the side of Garland Avenue.



“OK. Are you sure this is it Will?”

“Yup.”



“And you know your way around inside that place?”

“Yup, I do, to a degree.”



“So let’s get our game plan together here. We need to park somewhere for a secure getaway if that is needed. Not too far away, but someplace where my Orion won’t be found.”


“There’s a land keeper’s structure off to the left, and you can park behind it. You should drive down this lane with the headlights off so we don’t announce our arrival. How fast can you do a three point turn if we need to?”




“Don’t worry about that. I know my car. Joey, you good?”

“I am fucking good fellas. You guys need to help me finish this shit off.”



We both turned back to look at him. I wondered why he had been so quiet back there. He held out a fifth of gin. The top third of it was gone, baby, gone.



Oh shit.



Well of course, now it was our time to follow him. You never leave a man behind. And you never let one go on ahead alone.


We chugged.



We were young, full of piss and vinegar, ten feet tall and invincible. We would rock.




Or not.




Either way, imbation, my friend.














LINKS




Here we go again. New war in the middle east.





Never get involved in a land war like we did in Afghanistan, Iraq, and in Asia’s Vietnam.







Speaking of our country’s addiction to petroleum, here’s some more dumb shit: Don’t jump over cars speeding towards you.

This guy is just lucky. But dumb. Dumb luck? Or luck dumb?








Now, with a Lamborghini Gallardo.








Pray away the Wall Street Occupiers? Wow.





Rage Against the Machine? Tom Morello on Occupy Wall Streeters, and Obama.







Now here is the shit about the Police Detective who dressed up like a hipster.





More shit:


Alabama’s tough Immigration laws partially thwarted. Huh.







OK, Enough of that. It’s your Saturday. Time for you to unwind and recoup, lie fallow, let it all hang out and relax.






We need to look to the clergy to help us out, in hopes of lighter, happier times.





Speaking of Mawwiage, that bwessed event, here’s a young couple’s idea of using something other than wedding bands.





These are some stoopid Facebook Status updates. What are you thinking? No. What were you thinking? Not thinking…





Duck lips face.





From loyal TDC Forum Member Entropy_Happens, here’s something for your consideration. If you were a hitch hiker, would you complain about being forced to have sex with the chick who picked you up? Voodoo...







From TDC's Southern Statesman Kentucky Dave, here’s a video about a young, adventurous couple having sex while they skydive.








The youtube video has been removed by Alex Torres, who invented a new sort of high mile club. The only Member of his Club. Dude’s under investigation, so that only those in the gubment can see it now. Fuckers.








Well, that showed true leadership.






I know what I am.






God Help You.


God Help Us All.



---willies out.















OK, More For You.












October is the time for ghosties. Here’s a cool compilation of true ghost videos. Ya know, to give you the willies.







Peaceful Paris flooding.

5:46 am from ArtefactoryLab on Vimeo.

Trentemøller, Thinking About You






















nsfw




















.

144 UNFOUGHTEN

Happy 18th Wedding Anniversary, my Lady. I wish I could write pretty things for you. But you know me.

Let's go.










Joey closed the gate behind him.


He stepped up to us and said, “What, ya think I’d bail on you here and now?”



Huh.



Gawdamn, son.




Katheena fired up her golden car with the gold tinted windows and the giant black bird on its hood, and we flew off into the night sky.









Spamela’s eyes were wide open, and Galen wouldn’t let go of Katheena’s hand.

“Are you a real punk lady?"

“How do you get your hair to do that?”


Katheena looked like she had fallen in love.



“Hey Katheena, you cool here? Joseph and I will be right back.”

“I’m good. Hey little ladies, do you have any dolls?”



Very cute.



----------------------------



Ant Knee opened the door to his mother’s duplex and said, “Hey guys. What’s going on?”

“Hey Anthony, is Sean here?”


“Nope. He’s off at his girl’s place.”



“Dayam. When will he be back?”

“I dunno. Sometimes, he gone for a week.”




From inside his duplex we heard, “Ant Knee! Who’s at da back door?”

He swung his head back inside and shouted back, “Mind your own bidness momma!”


Then he stepped out and closed the door behind him. “Let’s go for a walk fellas.”



--------------------


The reservoir glinted with tiny diamonds from the liar’s moon coming up over the Sierras. It was a blood moon, and these were blood diamonds.


“Anthony, I gotta tell you, I had no idea that Sean would crash us all.”

“Well, I don’t know about that. I mean, you know how Sean is, right?”



“Huh. But to do shit like that to me and Bryan and Tellesco? Come on man.”

Ant Knee looked over the sparkly reservoir. “It was pretty fun up to that point, then you guys all went figgin. What the fuck?”



Lion Man spoke up. “Jerry had the good stuff. But that other dude who showed up, well…. He could match. And he did.”



Ant Knee looked down at Joey from over his arms on the chain link fence. “Yeah. He did. But I’d like to fuck up his shit for what he did.”


I nudged him. “Anthony, I know who that guy is. He’s called Muy Largo. He’s pretty bad.”


“Obvious. It’s lucky no one else got shot. But Jerry fucked everything up for all those big dudes.”




“Actually, that’s why we are here. I’m looking for that Fat Jerry punk.”


“Oh, he owe you some money?”




“No. He owes us some answers.”


Ant Knee looked into his palms. “I ain’t seen him since that night. No one has. But everyone’s asking. I mean, how do you show up to a party with all the good shit and make everyone happy, make a busload of connections, and then bail on everything? That fucker lost a lot of bidness. And now I look bad.”


Joey said, “I think I brought Tommy Hewitt to his fate there, because of that powder.”



We both looked at each other, then at Joey.


He said, “Don’t look at me that way. I’ve never snorted that shit, …well, I hadn’t until then. But shoot. It was me. I brought Tommy Hewitt there in my car.”



I grabbed Joey by the shoulder and looked into his face. “You think Tommy Hewitt met his end because of you?”

Joey looked up and shrugged. “There’s a lot about me that you don’t know, Will.”




Huh.




“Joseph, what happened to Tommy Hewitt didn’t have anything to do with you. That shit was from the explosions. That guy Muy Largo has to be called to the mat for what he did that night. He and Fat Jerry have to answer us some questions.”


Ant Knee said, “It was my fault for telling Jerry about the party. If he didn’t come, they would all be unfoughten.”


I looked at Ant Knee. “Is that even a word?”

He scowled at me. “You know what I mean. Maybe none of that shit woulda went down otherwise. Least of all, you and that Bryan dude would have fucking died from alcohol poisoning or someshit!”


Hah?


Joey frowned. “I should have been with Tommy Hewitt to the end. I owed it to him.”



Dayam. Now I would have to babysit Joey. I had not expected this.


Fuck it.



It was time to bail.


“Anthony, would you tell Sean that I need to talk to him ASAP?”


“Yeah, Will, I will. You guys be cool, K?”




“You, too. Be safe.”


Ant Knee’s eyebrows went up, and I headed off back to my own duplex.



Behind me, I heard Joey say, “But what if ---”


Ant Knee said, “Little bro, I keep asking myself that very same thing. But don’t pick a scab or it won’t stop bleeding.”


Huh. Cheesy ole Ant Knee was preaching to the Little Lion Man.



Yet, in his own way,


maybe he had something there.



= = = = = = = = = = = = = =



Katheena sat at the table across from my mom with a cup of tea in her hand. “Hey Will, I met your mom.”



Mom smiled at me. “Yeah, it was a bit of a surprise coming back from the corner store and finding a stranger here playing dolls with my baby girls.”



Katheena said, “Your mom can fight well, Will.”



It must have been the look on my face, because my mom laughed and said, “We didn’t fight! But I have to tell you, I don’t think I can take any more surprises like that Will. Please introduce me to your friends properly from now on.”


“Oh wow. I’m sorry Mom. I chust didn’t---“

They both laughed. Mom said, “We have been talking about how you just didn’t.”




Katheena and Joey made their way to the front door, and Katheena hugged me. She didn’t offer a smooch, but I took one from her anyway.




After I bade them goodnight and closed the door, my mom said, “Will, you have some very interesting friends.”


I turned around. “You don’t know the half of it.”





She chuckled and took the tea cups to the sink around the corner. I heard her say under her breath, “I like them. Remind me of my old friends back home.”






Huh.


------------------






Sleeping.



Awakened from a nightmare, with an echoing shriek in my head, in my empty room.

Was it my own voice?


I listened.

No one stirred.


I looked around.



There was nothing.




I didn’t want to fall asleep again. I didn’t want to continue that nightmare.


A large, powerful, pale figure with a purple mohawk dyed upon his CranBerry hair, with Zeros and Xs of white medical tape over the birdshot holes in his face and neck, and chrome shin guards on his Docs, well, he sang to me.








Tic Tac Toe, baby. New math.



X O X O X O X O X O X O X O





Best I could do, my Lady.







.


LINKS


From trusted and faithful mighty TDC Member Entropy_Happens, here’s pic proof that Nic Cage is indeed an immortal, a vampire. God Help Us All.






Here’s where I get my news stories. Yeah, right. Saturday Morning site for ya.







Duct Tape. Fun and games with your bros.







Like being a kid again. Another cartoon for ya.








Just don’t get anyone preggers.








Or you might turn out to be a bad daddy.







If you are a bad daddy, don’t create your fate this way.







Antidote.



Don’t steal from Jobs. We all miss Jobs.











Possibly NSFW. Tiny bikini.





Someone from Occupy Wall Street stopped smoookaaang long enough to post this.







Antidote for the above tale.











God Help You.


God Help Us All.



---willies out.

















OK, One More For You.









NSFW This is WootsonTV’s Channel. I thought you should know.














.

142 TDC WEAW Loose Screw

Katheena had not hit her first rock bottom like I did.


Yet.


Would I be the one to cause this to happen to her?



Dotta, 17, says this needs to be put here. OK. Rawnald Gregory Erickson, by Starfucker.





I pocketed the broken screw and then the hairs on the back of my neck and on my arms stood right up. Now that was weird, like inviting a bad spirit into your house when there is a knock at the door, and nobody is there, but you open the door anyway. I needed to get the fuck out of there. I thought that we both needed to get the fuck out of there.



If you are outside during a thunderstorm and you feel the hairs stand up all over your body, then you are about to be struck by lightning.

There is only one thing you can attempt.

You can not run faster than what is about to happen, and you should not run to a tree for protection.

You see, most lightning strikes on humans come from the ground and shoot up into the clouds, which are full of free ions that need a path to be grounded. If you are near a tree and you feel all tingly, then that tree will be the lightning rod from where it erupts, and you will be connected in the charge in a bright, loud, and dangerous way to you.

You should get away from the tallest thing.


That is most likely from where the electricity will flow, from all over the ground.

If you jump into the air, you will still be a part of the eruption of energy from the charge in the earth.



So what is the best course of action?



Simply this:




Dive to the ground away from that nearest tree and pull your limbs into a tiny ball and wait.


You may get burns, but perhaps your long nerves won’t get singed, which will follow you along your path for the rest of your life with pain and incoherency. You have a better chance of surviving a lightning strike if you are not sprawled out, nor standing near a tall thing like a tree or house, or lightning rod.

You may just survive.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++


Your fate is how you end, but your destiny is how you are remembered.



I ask you this: how would you prefer to go out? Will you be remembered for the things you have done, or simply the way that you left?


I would prefer to pass away quietly in my sleep, but it will probably be stuck in a burning car crash, held securely by my safety belt. Perhaps I’d done some good things in my life that would surpass that awful ending.


Tommy Hewitt must have lived a good life, because Katheena chust wanted to talk about him now, while she sped us back into Fuckno. I had my eyes only for Fat Jerry.


Joey and he were friends. I had some more questions that needed answers.


You might have been wondering why I had not considered this course of action before, and that is a fair wonderment. The answer may have been that I had not wanted to begin such an ugly task. We shield from our view things that we are not yet ready to see.







In this case, you may find a key at the bottom of the river.

Rock bottom.






Katheena said, “Tommy was cool like a big cat who’d found himself in a different sort of place, like an everglades, and he dominated because he was an invasive species.” Katheena had lit up, you see.


I turned back to her, from out of my head. “Like a Bobcat in Florida?”



She laughed and said, “Yeah, like that. Tommy could fuck up your world if you were not nice to him.”


I sure could have used Tommy Hewitt now, against Jerry. In a fair fight, and not in the way that Jerry had fucked Tommy.

Not like that.


We’d have to go see the Little Lion Man. Maybe he could shine some light in this dim sky.









“Weeeeee-ill! Katheeeeee-na! My two best friends! Let’s go poolside, shall we?”


Dude would never turn his friends away at the front door, nor ever make an excuse and blame it on his bitch or say “something’s come up” or any of that bullshit. He took care of his buds. That’s how you do it, right?


We lounged poolside in the fading day, and Katheena looked down on a small tea plate in her lap while her fingers rolled like Parkinson’s.

Joey sipped his iced tea and smiled, looking up into the pastel colors of the Califorever sky. He was in his element: a man of leisure, a man of pleasure, a man about town. Hehehe.


“Weeee-ill. Why your Docs all dusty? Look like you been walking on the---“


“Joseph, check this shit out. Today, Katheena and I went to the desert dunes. We went looking for that shack where Glinda had her portfolio shots done.”




“Oh yeah, you told me about that weird old dude. Did you find him?”


“Sort of. We found the place, but he wasn’t there.”




Katheena giggled. “Yeah. He wasn’t there.”


Joey looked down from the sky and over to her. “What’s so funny?”


She said, “He wasn’t there, and nothing else was there, too.”


I said, “It was the place, but there was no old shack there anymore.”




Little Lion Man shook his head. “You sure you want to smoke anymore of that shit?”


Katheena sparked it up, and that was his answer. She said, in the voice that folks use when they are partaking and have a lungful, “You should have seen Will’s face. He was scared!”


I shushed her and reached over with my two fingers. “I was about to be dumb-struck.”




Joey’s eyes went wide. “Huh? What do you mean?”


Now it was my turn to talk in a hoarse whisper. “It felt like I was about to get zapped by lightning. I grabbed Katheena and we got the fuck out.”



Joey shook his head as he reached with two fingers. “Did the place get burned down? What happened?”



I exhaled and coughed. “It had never been there. Nothing ever existed there but sand and cactus. All gone.”




Now Joey was the hoarse whisperer. “Then you bitches were in the wrong fucking place. Weeeee-ill, please.”


I nodded. “It was indeed the wrong place to be. But I saw my own boot tracks in the dirt, and there was this.” I held out the broken screw.


Joey took it and inspected it in the fading light. “Is this from your head? Got a screw loose buddy?”



“No, Joseph. I broke it off from a door that day of the photoshoot. That’s the only thing left.”



“Weeee-ill. This don’t make any sense. So what were you doing, screwing around out there like that?”




“I was peeking inside an old car garage, and I found Fat Jerry’s hearse inside, under a tarp.”





Joey’s eyes went big. “Fat Jerry’s hearse? Really?”



“Yup. I kid you not. That was the first time I had to get the fuck outta there.”




Joey looked down at the screw in the light of the reddening sky. “Weeee-ill. You need to start from the beginning.”


So I did.




LINKS


Remember the “erroneously suspected to be a terrorist” Hasan Elahi? (He had found out that he was on the terrorist watch list way back in June, of 2002. Please allow me to elucidate: Check out this short video from three years ago about him, on The Colbert Report, before we continue.

The Colbert Report
Get More: Colbert Report Full Episodes,Political Humor & Satire Blog,Video Archive

OK, now check this out. He’s still doing it, nine years and going on.



The question I ask of you is this: how safe is he, and would you do such a thing to make a point? Dude has some cojones, I tell you.


There’s a new song coming out from Leslie West soon. It’s in the middle of this short video when he invites Zakk Wylde into his home studio to produce it. It’ll probably be called “One More Time” or something, but it fucking rocks. Check it out. (1:35) and it’s only a small piece.






I’ve got something in my front pocket for you.



Obama. Huh.





Ali on Obama.





OR.







Sorry if this harshes your day. Docu about Capital Punishment. In Texas.





Too bad the killed didn’t live to buy this: the most expensive perfume evah.




Learn how NOT to drive.





Learn how not to EAT.




God Help You.


God Help Us All.





---willies out.






















OK, One More For Ya.



Elizabeth Warren talks about food. Yummy?

































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