Last weekend's last part.
Katheena had not hit her first rock bottom like I did.
Would I be the one to cause this to happen to her?
You might want to follow along in this new chapter, if you care to see. If you don’t care about these tales, that’s cool. There are links below for you.
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?
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.
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.
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.
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.
Ali on Obama.
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.
OK, One More For Ya.
Elizabeth Warren talks about food. Yummy?