Weekend At Willies Chapter Six: Sibilance

Birds Of Paradise, by Rumspringa.

Dirty Boots London has the only full version of it in all the intertubes.

Right-click on this link if you would like to hear it in a new tab.

It'll auto-play once, but other songs will follow.

Joey found himself full of adrenaline. He had no ride, but he had game. This little lion man could untie any knot that presented itself to his face. He was an instigator, and that would always be his super-power.


He hid and waited for the hostibal constable to stop chasing him, and while he crept down low behind many locked and secured vehicles, he knew that one of them would hold the key to his escape. The fear of alarm held him back. There would be no way to test each door one at a time and risk the car becoming alarmed, and flashing its lights and honking like an angry or frightened goose.



But what if every one of them was alarmed? Being the little instigator that he was, he decided to alarm all of them.

At once.

And then, there would be one or two who stuck out in the crowd because their owner had not locked them up. Sometimes, folks who park in the emergency lot of a hostibal have other things on their minds.


Once all of the cars were alarmed, he would not have long before someone would take notice and come see what all of the ruckus was. So he would have to find a car that was unlocked, and then he would have to try to start it, and he would not have much time at all.


+ + + + + + +



The young man went back to his iron cot and sat down. It was going to be a long night. The hiss of a death rattle echoed over and over in his brain. That is what the last exhale of a dead person sounds like. He was not going to be able to get back to sleep.



In his mind, he heard the sibilance of soft whispering from the lips of someone who held his memory intact, and she was gone. He knew it. He felt it in his bones.



Katheena was a dead girl.


“…Bryan…”


He jumped up and swung around. Someone had whispered his name in his ear.




It sounded like her.





+ + + + + + +



“It seems that your friend has left you here alone.”



“My friend? Oh, yes, that naked Tellesco chap. Did he tell you to where he was headed?”





“Tellesco? Is that his name?”


“Yes, it is. He said that he is my best friend.”



“Well, I don’t know why someone would leave his best friend alone in a strange place to fend for himself when he was incapacitated.”




“Yes, this is a strange place, indeed. But I’m certain he will be back. I could see it in his eyes. He would never leave Sean alone without help. Are you going to help me?” Seen looked up into the nurse’s eyes.



She nodded. “Don’t you worry, we will help you. You are out of danger.”


Seen smiled at her. She seemed to be telling the truth. He was happy that he was there, in a brightly lit place, when for so long, it had been all a black hole, and he had been awaiting his freedom. He had things that needed to be done.

He would get them done.


He had his own agenda.



+ + + + + + +



Tellesco screamed at me in surprise as I yanked that heavy hearse door open, and then he said, “Mr. Will! I thought it was all over for me! What’s going on?!”



“Drive.” I slammed the door shut and looked him right in the eye. “Sean is getting help. Now you need to get this bitch right the fuck out of here.”


Tellesco’s lip began to tremble. “Leave Sean here alone? But he’s hurt!”



I would have grabbed him by the lapels if he had been wearing any clothes. “Sean is safe. Now fucking drive.”


Tellesco wiped his tears and he put that iron beast into gear. “Ok. If you say so.”


Best thing he could have said.



We were gone.



God Help You.


God Help Us All.



---willies out.

154 Get It Up And Then Go Down

Here we go baby. Katheena wouldn’t go home the same way she had come in. None of us would.






Care to follow?










Katheena crept quietly back behind the lovely mansion into the darkness. All around her, shadows slithered and grew close.



She hid from the curious moon above, who had its eye on the ants in front of the mansion, where cars beeped and honked like angry geese, pinching asses of the stupid people in their way.



Katheena shivered, but not from the desert dust in her nose. Her senses told her to run.


She thought it was from dust.



No.





So This Is Goodbye, by William Fitzsimmons.








Instinct called to her, from millions of years of self preservation at the cellular level. It is always a good idea to listen to what your instinct tells you. Logic is a newborn, and while it screams and demands attention to be fed and its diaper changed, it does not have all of the answers.



Your shivery skin may tell you something, while your mind tries to reason your fear into submission.



Fear exists for a reason.



Listen to it when it is true, and become deaf to it when greater things arise.



She should have listened, this one time, to her fear.



Her Mettle is that she would do both, but not at the same time.




One follows the other, but neither is the leader.



Ya think?



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




The stairs were dry. Joey punched me in the thigh. “Dude! Don’t make me strike you in the ass! Let’s go grab Sean and get the fuck outta here! Why you waiting?!”





I grunted and rubbed my thigh, and turned back down to shout at him. I had the willies. All of my skin was creeping like it was covered with ants. “Joseph, shut the fuck up! You need to look at these steps!”




Joey’s arms dropped, and he sensed my fear. He looked down. “These steps are narrow, dusty and old. So what?”


I whispered, “I saw the Glinty dude go in here. He showed me the way.”



Joey’s eyes widened. He wiped his wet eyes. “You took me in here because of that fucker? I’m gone. Not my problem.” He swung around on his heel.



I grabbed him by the leather. “No! Hear me out, man. This is an escape route, to get out of the place from the floors above!”



Joey pulled away and his face was white. “Exactly what I’m saying! We need to escape and get the fuck out! Down is this way!”


I knew his panic, and I grabbed on his leather. “Nope. We have to go up. Sean is still up there.”



"What the fuck are you talking about, Weeeee-ill?! Ain't no one up there waiting for us but that creepy bastard who was trying to kill you. He looking to give me a rub down too!"



I really wanted to chust fucking bail now.





You see, I smelled Lorelei's perfume.





It was all over me.






I---







I...







i









Alone,







...nothing was there anymore.









Perfume from a girl under the ocean, thousands of miles away, here in this dusty stairwell that lead to hell below, or heaven above?



Her scent made me come apart at the seams.




Yet,






It held me intact.






What The Fuck?





Underneath the weak light of the filament bulbs overhead, I felt some strength.



Out of nowhere.






I heard the ocean in my ears, and I stopped shivering from my cold, soaked leather.





I was not drowning in my fear.





Peace, out of mayhem.



Huh.




I said, "Joseph, would Sean leave you and bail? Do you think that Sean would do that to you? Do you think? Do You Think At All?!"








His tensed arm softened.



He knew I was right.



No Escape for us, in this moment.




Joey stood there, in his fumbling mind, and then he straightened up. He recovered the ball. He looked back up at me. There was resolve in his eyes.



Fuck yeah.



I really needed to see that in this moment, because I would have followed him out and run off with him and escaped if he had simply said No.


But he didn’t say No.



Huh.




Most of the times, the Exit, (the Escape), is your friend.




In the other few times such as now, the opposite direction is the Entrance, and you must pass through it to Escape, to Exit.





Up to go down. The yang to the yin, baby. The white and the red. Desert and ocean. Exit and Entrance.




Never the twain shall meet.




Fuck the grey, the pink, the mud, the middle ground, the fence-sitting, and the inaction due to fear.



Joey shrugged his leather back onto his shoulders and adjusted his tie.



We would go up.









Jesus For The Jugular, by The Veils.






Katheena looked into windows as she crept along, feeling the tingle of what she thought was desert dust inhaled, but not recognizing that she was in imminent danger.



You know from reading the Lorelei Talks that Katheena was in touch with her Thailand heritage, through her mother. Katheena performed the excellent Japanese tea ceremony quite well. Asia is a continent comprised of hundreds of distinct cultures, just like the USA has over 565 original tribes of cultures, each with their own language, origin story, and customs.


Katheena's mother educated her with the beauty and strength gleaned from thousands of years of culture and civility.




Katheena knew much more than we two punk bastards frozen in fear in the dusty, ancient up-stairwell.




She knew more than she knew.




She stood up and swung around. The shadows held back, with their long tendrils about to slip up from the ground and the walls to grab her.



She pulled out the small white envelope and opened it.





She inhaled a deep breath,





and then she blew all of that desert dust into the air all around her, spinning, and she tossed the paper away.





LINKS


Karate Kid, the way it was originally shot. Before the special effects department dressed it up.






Brinicle. Icicle made out of sea water. It will kill you.






1,000 girls, (2,000 boobies), two hands. One month of Awesome.







So you say that you enjoy listening to Nickleback? Huh. Here’s the Motown version. Kinda improves it.





1/5th of a second. Beauty.

Seconds Of Beauty - 1st round compilation from The Beauty Of A Second on Vimeo.

Those funny Messicans. They chust don’t vote!

Watch American Voices: Gustavo Arellano on the 2012 Latino vote on PBS. See more from NEED TO KNOW.

25 pics of people in stoopid clothing. Kinda lost faith in humanity after seeing these.






How The English Language came to be.






Why the English Language is fucking awesome dooode.







Speaking of constructing things with your bare hands, how about a tiny engine? Pretty bad ass.





Speaking of speaking and creating things, Samuel L. Jackson narrates “Go The Fuck To Sleep.” A child’s night time story. Quite soothing…







God Help You.


God Help Us All.



---willies out.









OK, One More For You.


GI Joe. Home made, but pretty cool.









.

151 Pray For Rain

Joey roared, Katheena winged, and I composed myself.


We were going to look for ole Glinty McFlintlock.


This would end badly.


I did not know who the fuck those old rich bastards were, flocking in their purple robes over by the pool, but I charged at them, and they flew off left and right. Those in front of my charge jumped back and they landed in the pool.


You might not know that a velvet robe, once it is soaked, weighs exactly 42 pounds of I Don’t Give A Shit, but they found out immediately.

They had trouble getting back up into the air.


Others went to help, and that is when we three punks went off to look for ole Ginty McFlintlock and, of course, Sean.


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


We flew through the towel room and pushed them crooked vultures out of our way left and right, heading down the hallway where Minacca had run off minutes before, straggling her ripped-off garments over her bra and thong.


Crystal goblets of expensive wine and bone china plates of various tasty things shattered into clouds and mists of forgotten folklore.


We three punks were on a rampage.


There on the left was a familial area, which led off to the kitchen. You know to where I was leading my two friends.


Up.



There was a hallway beyond it that led to servants quarters, and a rear stairwell that held many surprises.



I was headed for Minacca’s room on the third floor.



The only thing that I had not considered was this: I was burning bridges. We would not be able to leave from where we had come. Once we found Sean we would have to make us a new exit.


Of course, that was the least of our worries at this point.


Katheena and Joey were simply happy to have me back among them, and leading them towards our original pursuit.



If only---



If only we had found Sean...



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



Cooks and waiters jumped out of the way as we charged through the galley, and they screamed. That is what folks do when they are concentrating on a task, whatever it may be, and they are loudly and rudely interrupted.


Our advantage was shock and fright.


We were Doc-booted punks dressed in black leather jackets, (one in a short black dress underneath hers) and we snarled with clenched teeth from our new found energy.


Some of those surprised kitchen staff grabbed large knives, as they felt the need to protect the house, to perhaps nab a reward or some shit for fighting off we invaders.


Once through the galley, we got to the hallway that led to the up-stairwell, the servants' quarters, and doors everywhere. I stopped to make sure that my two cohorts were in attendance.


They smashed into me and we fell to the floor.



“OWWW!”


“Fuuuuuuck Weeeee-ill!”



In the background, we heard these words, “They went through there!”




Then, as we jumped up, there was the awful sound of many footfalls echoing into this hallway.




At such a point, in such a situation, you have no time to think. You must rely upon your instincts.


The obvious instinct is to escape to where you were heading in the first place, and try to outrun your chasers.



But I had learned many things in trying to outrun some angry Messicans on my ten speed bike during the Trinity end-chapter.



I whispered to my friends, “Doors. Find ‘em and lock ‘em behind you. NOW!”





Joey opened a door that led down, and he grabbed me and Katheena to follow him. He had, indeed, found the wine cellar.

That would always be his nexus.



There, below, we looked around. Here was another one of those tombs that the rich bastards had dug out of the hard pan of the desert. We had no time to look around, but I could not help myself. There were rounds of Gruyere and other expensive cheeses. There were aisles of wine, as well.




What the hell? Was the whole high desert river valley of the Sans Joking River pock-marked with hidden treasure troves of expensive delicacies such as these?


I remembered Tommy Hewitt then and there. He had passed away in such a tomb.


Fuck that shit.







I grabbed my friends and glared into their eyes, from one to the other, left and right, right and wrong. They faltered from my rage. I pulled them close and muttered, “We will not end like this. We will head back up, and we will fucking dominate.”




I charged back up the stairs and erupted from the tomb into the hallway.







There were people in white chef coats and others wearing purple robes, all opening doors to the servants’ quarters and closets and shit.


We held the element of surprise, shock, and awe.


They all swung around to face us, with their knives and other accoutrement.



Feeling the adrenaline from panic along with the lovely, powerful charge of desert dust, I charged into them. They scattered into three dimensions: kitchen, hallway left, and long path to the servant’s exit/ entrance door on the right, which was armed with alarm. You needed to have a key or pass code to use the door.

Joey roared and leaped into the left side of the hallway to protect my back, and he grabbed them purple robes with his claws and flung those bastards to the floor.


He did not stop. He stood on their fallen bodies and looked for any one of them to raise a hand for a time-out. I think that he would have tore off one with his teeth if a single hand arose.


Katheena flew into the kitchen; landing near one of the knife blocks on the chopping table.


She stood and grinned at those scared, rich assholes. “Come get some of this you fuckers!”


She looked down at the knife block, and wrapped her hands around steely wood. She flashed those blades in the air, around and over her head, like a ninja chick or someshit. And then she charged at the cowering crowd.


Me? I dove to the floor, rolled, and then I jumped at them, Docs forward.



What the fuck was I doing?



I was joining in the fray, entering the melee, which is a French term that here describes, “Eat my heels, you bastards.” I landed on the chests of those who would do us harm.


I rolled back onto my front, and felt the come down begin again.


Fuck.



I shouted, “We gone! We out!”


Those two appeared in right in front of my face, and Joey said, “There’s no time to line! What do we do?”


I shrugged and looked down the hallway to the exit door. “We make it rain, and we bail.”


We stumbled over those who were getting back up as I led the way to the servant’s entrance, which exited on the farthest end of the courtyard from Katheena's ride.


We would have to run past them chauffeurs to get to Katheena’s escape vehicle, which she had named “Orion.”



You knew, back when I told you that Minacca’s mansion was built like a friggin hotel, well, there were fire alarms along the walls of the hallways.


They were everywhere, if you recall.


As we exited that fucked up place, I stopped at the last one on the way out. I broke the glass, reached in, and I pulled down the lever. A spray of indelible red paint exploded on my hand and misted over my two cohorts behind me, on their right sides.


It began to rain from the extinguishers overhead.



Pray for rain in the desert. It chust might come.





Inside.




Inside a lovely, old mansion that held all sorts of rich pigs, many who were up to no good.


We would find out many things, and you will as well, if you care to continue along this ugly path that will lead to redemption.



If you have been reading this far along, then I know something about you.



By now, you know many things about me.




Thank you for following me on this path.




Check this out, my friend:






Minacca was wrong.



We three punks were not the evil ones.




Nope.



But, why did she not have a clue, such a brainy chick?






We baptized that hell hole, that fuck of a place.








Except, we had left Sean behind.







FUCK.










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





God Help You.


God Help Us All.




---willies out.










A Find From Dotta:










.

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




















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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.







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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.














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143 GATE

The Little Lion Man simply smiled and said, “Weeeeee-ill. You need help.”












I looked up into the fading colors of the darkening sky for a jet trail of an eastern-bound night flight that perhaps would not crash into the sea.





Poolside is always the best thing, and it is even better when you are with your best friends.





And yet, there is no substitution for the fresh, clean water of a river (named after your people) that runs from the holiest place on Earth, into a bay that is named after your people.




Into the ocean.







I got up out of the poolside-lounge chair because I was done lounging about, with this short but mighty lounge dancer.





Joey understood, good host that he was, and he followed me to the side gate. He stepped forward and unlocked it with his key. Katheena exited in front of me. Ladies first, hold the door open, be a gentleman. Always.





Joey held the iron gate open behind us with one hand and said, “Weeeee-ill. I cannot imagine what you are going through now. I wish I had been in that Jeep with you guys, so maybe I could understand better.”







I chust looked back at him and said, “I wouldn’t wish that on anyone. No one deserves that shit we went through after it happened.”






Katheena opened her mouth to say something, but Joey interrupted her intentions. He said, “No. I should have been there. I should have followed you.”






Katheena looked up at me, waiting by my side.







They both were looking at me for some sort of answer, for some guidance, or even a fucking clue.






I had none of the above, so check the “D” on your multiple choice test answer sheet.




“Joseph, you might have been killed in that crash. Fuck it, we all should have died from that shit that night. Hell, some of us almost did. And there were some who did. I’m trying to figure it out. I don’t know much, but I have an idea.”






Little Lion Man said, “OK. Don’t forget this.”





He held out his other hand, palm down, and then he dropped the broken screw into my palm.





He said, “Ya know, I’d follow you to the ends of the Earth.”




I looked down at the tiniest piece of evidence of something that might possibly make a difference in such a world of fuck, and I felt like I had to tell him something.



Something, anything.




Nothing was not an option.




So I said, “I think you would. Perhaps you will.”





He had no words.





Sometimes, it speaks volumes when you don’t say anything at all.








I did not know to where this new path would lead, but I tell you something my friend:


I would not be alone in this quest any longer.




Perhaps you will follow me along as well?





The path will be ugly, but there is redemption at the end.














God Help You.



God Help Us All.



---willies out.













For you, from Dotta, here.














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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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