White trash zombies.

 There was a ruckus coming from the single wide trailer next door. Edgar said, “Shit Betty they're at it again.”

 “Yeah? Well don't talk to me abut it, I am busy, Jerry's on!”

  Edgar mumbled something as he looked out the window at the single next door.  He could see the shadows of movement and the noise was just getting worse.

 This kind of crap happens when the checks get in. The whole park gets loud on the 1st and 15th of every month.

 Everybody gets liquored up and gets rowdy.

But the zombies next door just creped him out.

War bunnies

 They were tired of the ridicule. They were tired of the explotation.

 To not look conspicuous in the beginning they just gathered in small groups.

 But their best brains had given them a number. A population count that would assure their victory and they had reached it.

 It was time to fight, it was time for war.

 The hares, rabbits and bunnies armed themselves and gathered. They were going to take over the world.

 They gathered outside the edge of a small town on the back forty of Mr. Wilsons farm.

They attacked.

 Where were you when the revolution started?

A New Baseball Story

I have not posted any baseball stories in a long while because they all are basically the same story; One team gets their asses handed to them and they bitch and complain the whole game until I either throw the coach out or I call ball game.

This weekend I scheduled 7 games. Seven games in one day, for those that know, 7 games is a VERY long day, more than 14 hours of baseball. Yeah, there is a 20 minute break in the schedule but rarely does a game end on time or start on time so there is no break except to turn in the score card, grab some baseballs and water head back out to the field.

 So Saturday in the 4th game the team that refused to practice and felt that the sport is played by complaining was doing their part to win. The coach asked why every ball call was not a strike. Seriously they wanted a pitch 4 balls off the plate and into the batter’s box called a strike. They wanted to know why a tie did not go to the runner.

"Com'on blue seriously that was a tie, and the tie always goes to the runner."

"No coach there is no “tie” in baseball. The word "tie" is not even in the rule book." "The rule reads 'the batter-runner must beat the ball to the base in order to be called safe'"

"Oh my god the catcher did not even move his glove."

"Yes you are right he did not and he is holding it 12 inches off the plate."

"Jesus Christ!" exclaiming as he is throwing his hat into the dirt. "I swear to god blue, you are doing this on purpose."

"Time!" I say holding up my hands. "Coach, please come here."

The coach walks over smirking to his peanut gallery bleachers, and gets 1 step too close to me, on purpose. I do not step back, I lean in 1 inch and say "Really? Who are you that I would care that much to do something like that to you?"

"I don’t know" he says "but you have not given us one call."

I smile "Given you a call? No one gives anybody a “call” in this game. In fact this game was already decided on Wednesday night with software."

"Wait what?" He steps back and blinks. "Already decided?"

"Yes sir" I hold my poker face. "Yeah it’s just like wrestling; baseball has been a scripted sport from the beginning."

"Bullshit!"

"Now hold on coach, keep it down, all sports are scripted even the Olympics. Well except high school. obviously." 

"Fuck you!" He says looking at me like I just said something about his mom.

"Now" Placing my hand on his shoulder and slightly guiding him towards his dug out. "Here’s what I am going to do, I am not going to throw you out for cussing or for behaving like a poor sport. I am telling a secret and if you do not like it, then you should go and talk to the tournament director. Tell him what I told you and tell him that I said I felt bad about you paying your tournament fees, and that he should reimburse you, because I said you were a nice guy and should not be taken advantage of like this." we ended our short walk at the gate and my partner had already opened the gate and he passed through the gate and we shut it.

The look on his face was priceless, it was a mixture of dumb ass and 'what there is no Santa?'

As we turned to get back to the game, he called after us, "Hey blue? Are you serious?"

I turned back and looked at him with the dead pan seriousness of a reporter, "Coach, is this your first game today or your second?"

He looked even more bewildered "Our first."

I made a face resembling pain, "oops you weren't supposed to lose the first game." Sucking air through my teeth and glancing at my partner who was now smiling and facing outfield, "It was supposed to be the second game; I got the whole thing screwed up. I am very sorry; really you should go talk to the tournament director. Tell him what happened, tell him I got your two games mixed up, He will know what to do. Tell him I told you he should make it right for you."

We finished the game with a run rule, 20 run difference , (23-3) after 3 innings of baseball 1 hour and 5 mins.  That gave us a break of about 25 minutes.

My partner and I went out to our cars to change and get a drink of water.

At the cars, the tournament director and the "Umpire In Charge" walk up. "Hey ahh John," The tournament director started, "what happened on your field just now?"

Squinting into the 3:00 sun "Why what do you mean?"

 The tournament director continued, "I had the craziest conversation with the East Nicolas coach. He said you told him that all the games were rigged and that he was not supposed to lose the first game but only loose the second and you made a mistake."

"Yeah" I said, "he was acting like a jerk and making the game personal, so I told him some stuff to get him off the field."

"Why would you tell him that?"

“I dunno it seemed kinda funny and it was either be funny or be a lunatic I choose funny. Did you keep him in the office?”

“Yeah, Thanks. I do not need your craziness in the office!”

“And I do not need their craziness on the field.”

“You know you have his team at the 8:00 game? “

“So?” I said, "he was ejected you have to bar him from the next game.

"well," the UIC was now smiling, "you did not eject him so I have to let be in the next game."

“Crap!” I exclaimed.

“Exactly!” They both said with big ass, stupid smiles on their faces.

Needless to say the 8:00 game was with no events, no complaining, I do not know what the coach was thinking as he watched his team win the next game. Did he think they actually won? I have no idea. The game ended 3-2 in favor of East Nicolas and I went home.

Old Zombies Come Back To Haunt Me

For some time my son has been harassed on FB about my where a bouts and my health

To you all I have written an open letter;

You know I was a nice guy back when. I was always agreeable. Then the scene started to hit critical mass and there was 
fractioning and cliques and little drama wars.

 Then I realized, I guess I always knew, that this was no-where’s-ville this was not a sustainable life style. 

 I remember the Tales of Terror coming back from the slavery tour and being different. I remember many friends being swallowed by their

vices and addictions. I remember going to Bedrock Bill’s funeral, you all remember that? Remember how he was found and how sad and

pathetic his family looked during the viewing and the evil “kill you where stand” looks from his mother.

 I was already starting to distance myself from it all, but I think that was the clincher. That look from his mom was a monstrous weight

heaped upon me.

 I knew my mother was insane, but I also knew I did not what her to go through that.

 I left. I kept in touch with many and lost touch with many more. I became a terrible friend to all of you eventually, but it was for the

sake and sanity of me and my future family.

 I took my family to Texas without ever telling my mother where we were. That should tell you something about my privacy and protection of

my family.

 We are different from when we were then and there is a reason we lost touch. We changed and now when we are all 40+ and staring at the

horizon of our lives we try to go back, but we cannot rewind time.

 I have changed I am a mean mother fucker I hate just about every human on this god forsaken rock spiraling into the sun.

 I have come to realize humans are evil simple fact. it is amazing that we ever evolved past the fish on the beach. By all accounts we

should have eaten each other there on the beach and had been god's failed experiment.

 That said I have a couple of things to point out;

 Jeff said, “Have to say.... John was a jerk...and a pig... with his silly rotting catbones, plus the fucker chipped my tooth... could 

say more but why bother...”

Jeff:
 You did not rule shit you acted like to the poser fag you will always be.

 I vaguely remember you talking some shit 25 years ago about some chipped tooth and I kind of remember I was not responsible but then

again I cannot clearly state I remember the whole sorted crybaby saga but I am sure you were doing something stupid to get me to do

something to chip your tooth, but then again that is the youth and the culture of today, isn’t it? It is never your fault it is the fault

of someone else.

"It was not my fault I was arrested for drinking beer in the park, it was the fault of the Chinese guy at the liquor store or the old guy

who called the cops but clearly it is not my fault for trespassing and violating ord 3.1.5.2 of the city penal code. No way, not mine, boo

fucking hoo"

 So Jeff, maybe in your little world with pink skies and purple grass, you are somebody.

 Maybe in your little world where all of your furniture is made of the scrotum skin of young men, you are important.

 You might be king shit where the maggots go to worship, you might be a prophet to the little turds in the sewer.

 But in my world you are an open festering sore on a dog’s ass. You are nothing and you do not even require a name.

 You are just simply shit, not king shit bubba douche bag. Not even bubba douche bag.

Malcom

 It was Stiv Bators not Iggy Pop that served us whiskey and as far as the penis thing well I remember hearing about you touching Iggy’s

dick while I was in jail, you cheating bastard!.

Randy:

 It was not Rats Ass, Boots and John. First of all Geoff hated the nick name boots. Second it was Rick W. myself  and Sam C. that got

arrested in the back of the club for damaging the ceiling and we three were taken off to the station.

 During our incarceration someone else fell through the ceiling onto the stage and another dip shit punter broke through the ceiling and

stole the ticket money thus corroborating our story that two others had fallen through and got away.

 If I offended some of you all, well I guess I did. If some wonder if I hate them, then I probably do, and if you want my e-mail then 
Y3d0c3RyYXlkb2dAeWFob28uY29t

 But really you zombies need to leave my son alone; he does not need friends like you I should know.

 Burn in hell, you sinners, you evil tools of satan. For one day the lord will come and you all will be cast into hell and I will be there

in all my glory kicking dirt into the hole and laughing and pointing at your misery and dismay. It will be a glorious day then too for the

lord has come to take all his children home.

Memories and darker places

I was touching bad memories and evoking disturbing emotions the other day and thought that hey this ruined my Sunday how about I ruin everybody’s Tuesday. I am sorry but this is a bit of therapy for me and I now think I can start putting this to down I a tangable format.

I remember lying in bed at night praying that I would get to sleep before they got home. She would be too drunk to occupy him and once she fell asleep and he found me awake....well never mind that horror show. But I remember lying in bed thinking that there has to be a better place than this. Some place that did not hurt. Some place that was warm and nothing was threatening.
I used to think that I could remember a time when that was true. That if I squinted just right and pulled on the edges of my young memory I could see my real dad and my mom smiling and the sun out and there is a fish on the end of my line on my bamboo pole.
I remember laughing at my mom running from the fish as I pulled it out of the water too fast. I remember my dad, my real dad and how brave he was grabbing the squirming flopping fish without hesitation and pulling the hook out of the mouth that made the OH but never spoke.
Another time
I remember the principle coming to my house. I felt so proud when I opened the door and he was there. Man he seemed tall in the door way.
I remember the smile he greeted me with. I remember my mother asking if I was in trouble and him laughing and saying "John? Heavens no."
Then my square headed “Frankenstein” step dad coming in from the back yard and grumbling "who is this"
And my principle introduced him self.
My mother asking if he would like a drink or something. And he said that would not be necessary.
I got embarrassed then because principles do not eat or drink anything, and this must be a special occasion for him to leave school. Man, Mom you had to have known that!
My step father demanding to know why he was here.
He said 'he was here to talk about john'
I was told to go to my room.
I heard the principle say that last week there was test and
The dip shit failed...
No..... I shut the door.
There was murmuring and laughter
Then I heard my step father yelling and then I heard a slap
Then I heard my name being called
And I came out and I was asked what my name was and I told him “John Sleestaxx”.
My mother just sat there with her hand on her cheek and the principle sat there uncomfortable looking at his shoes.
Then my step father said, "there you go he's a Sleestaxx and there is no way a Sleestaxx is smart his real daddy is stupid and he is too.
You made a mistake and I want you all at the school to forget it. There will be no more tests for him and you will leave him in the class he is in." Leave me in my class? Man I must have really failed bad. They wanted to put me back into third grade.
I was glad about that because Miss Meyers was pretty and I liked being in her class.
Mom just sat there as the principle got up, looked at me and smiled, and said that he was sorry for intruding. He shook my hand and I remember my hand just disappearing in his.
And then my step father said that he had overstayed his welcome.
The principle said that he was sorry again and left.
The door closed and I wondered what had happened
I asked my mom as she got up to make dinner "why did Mr. Steiner come over?"
But she said that it was mistake and my stepfather said, "You know Johnny you are just a Sleestaxx and if you were special your daddy would have you at his house with his new wife and kids."
At that moment I knew my step father was right. If I was special I would be with my father, he would have kept me. I would not be here.
But that is as far too happy or proud as I ever get.
I can not recall anything happy about my child hood from that point on.
Just dodging the drunk and the angry mom.