Biden’s chin
Current mood: cold

I have a habit of describing television personalities by their physical features. Chyukhin! finds it hilarious. Which is yet more evidence we were meant to be together.

The anchor on Channel 2 until recently was a woman I referred to as "Big Hair Little Head." BHLH, I'm sorry to say, has since moved on to some bigger television market in the Lower 48.

BHLH was joined at the table, often, by "Bushy Brow Droopy Mouth" and at times by "Dimple Chin."

Then there's their political reporter, old "Crooked Smile," who should soon be returning from Washington where she's been covering the Stevens trial.

There's another reporter I call "Space Face," then there's "Baby Face" (so named not because he's young, though he is, but because he actually looks like a baby) and "Little Hands."

There are others for whom I haven't come up with a name. Usually these are reporters I know well from covering courts with them or who are famous enough that I already know their names.

But this penchant I have for picking on people's physical characteristics has translated, recently, to candidates for high office. Folks on the presidential ticket have some physical attributes I've found hard to ignore:

1. What's the deal with the left side of McCain's face? He's got a puffy cheek. Like he's chewing tobacco or storing acorns. And he's always got his jaw clenched. The combined effect leaves him looking like a cartoon character with a toothache. A constant toothache.

2. Biden's chin. What the fuck? Has anybody else noticed this? The center portion appears to be infinitely more agile than the rest. There's like some weird muscle hopping around down there when he talks but the other two thirds of his chin stay completely still. It's hypnotic. During the Veep debate I often found myself not listening to what he was saying and instead just watching his chin.

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Officer, I’d like to report a theft

Caller: Someone stole my shower stall!
Dispatcher: Your what?
Caller: My shower stall!
Dispatcher: How did they get it out of your house?
Caller: It was in my backyard!
Dispatcher: ...

Been giggling for a couple days now over this press release. Becuase not only did they steal the shower stall, they had to get the fucking thing over the fence:

On October 8, 2008, at 0930 hours, Kelci Hatcher, age 31, of Wasilla, reported the theft of a used shower stall. Hatcher stated that during a recent remodel the stall had been removed and stored in a fenced back yard. Sometime during the night of October 7th, the stall disappeared. When new, the stall was valued at approximately $200. The investigation continues.

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Press Release
Current mood: distraught

What in the goddamn hell do they mean by this?:

On August 20, 2008, a Palmer Librarian reported that sometime during the night of August 18, 2008 someone smashed mushrooms on the front of the Library.

I'm open to any interpretation you might have.

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Press releases!
Current mood: cantankerous

A large portion of my day is spent going through press releases from various law enforcement agencies. Here are some (with italicized intros from yours truly) that made me giggle:

Hitting a moose is something just about every Alaskan does at some point or another. Chiyukhun! tapped one once; the moose looked back in annoyance then walked off. Radam totally destroyed his Bronco hitting a calf moose. But two moose with one car? When my turn comes I hope I'm as lucky as this dude:

Location: Palmer
Case number: 08-11319
Type: MVC-D Moose
Text: On 02-12-08 at approximately 0748 hours, Alaska State Troopers responded to the report of a collision involving a single vehicle and a moose on the Palmer-Fishhook Rd. near Gordy Rd near Palmer. Investigation revealed Kimmith J. Irwin Jr, age 37 of Palmer, was driving south on the Palmer-Fishhook Rd near Gordy Rd when a cow moose and her calf ran into the roadway, into the path of his vehicle. Irwin was unable to stop before colliding with both moose. Irwin reported wearing a seatbelt and reported no injuries. Damage to his vehicle is estimated at $7000.00. No citations were issued.
Author: AJB2
Received Tuesday, February 12, 2008 11:12 AM and posted Tuesday, February 12, 2008 11:17 AM

A longer, but significantly better, press release involving a moose (By the way, who knew that a moose is worth $500 or that it's the property of the state? Not me.):

Location: Near Aleknagik - GMU 17C
Case number: 08-9907
Type: Harass, Herd, Drive Big Game
Text: On 2-12-08, Jeri J. Alakayak 24YOA and Gusty N. Ilutsik 20 YOA, both of North Shore Aleknagik, appeared in Dillingham District Court for their arraignment hearings regarding their actions harassing, herding, and driving a moose on the ice of Aleknagik Lake. The moose was herded across more than three miles of frozen Lake Ice, towards an area of open water where it fell through thin ice and ultimately died. Both defendants plead no contest to their charge and Alakayak was sentenced to a fine of $3000.00 with $2000.00 suspended, a jail sentence of 60 days with 60 days suspended, ordered to pay $500.00 in restitution to the State of Alaska for the illegally killed moose, complete 50 hours of community work service, and was placed on probation for a period of two years under conditions of committing no other fish and game or criminal offenses. The snowmachine, a 2005 Polaris RMK 700, used to commit the offense was forfeited to the State of Alaska. Ilutsik was sentenced to a fine of $6000.00 with $3000.00 suspended, a jail sentence of 75 days with 60 days suspended, ordered to pay $500.00 in restitution to the State of Alaska for the illegally killed moose, ordered to complete 50 hours of community work service, and was placed on probation for a period of three years under conditions of committing no other fish and game or criminal offenses.
Author: JCR9
Received Wednesday, February 13, 2008 10:13 AM and posted Wednesday, February 13, 2008 10:59 AM

I done told that motherfucker you can't use proper names!:

Location: Juneau
Case Number: 08-13161
Type: Assault IV
Text: On 2-19-08, Juneau AST received a complaint from an inmate at the Lemon Creek Correctional Center that he had been assaulted by another inmate. Investigation found that inmate John Ryan Borglund, age 32 had physically assaulted inmate Charles Fischer, age 41 after they argued over a game of SCRABBLE. Charges will be forwarded to the Juneau DAO.
Author: MED9
Received Friday, February 22, 2008 11:22 AM and posted Friday, February 22, 2008 11:53 AM

The Kodiak Launch Complex is one of the few visible, on the ground manifestations of the Missle Defense Shield. I don't believe it will be a permanent base for the shield. Indeed, it's owned a semi-private corporation. But the defense shield has been their main client and was the main reason the thing was built in the first place. They've been using it as a place from whence to lob mock ICBMs for interceptors in California to shoot down. The complex is far away from the city of Kodiak. But, apparently, even at the very very end of that long-assed highway, they're not immune to the insanity that is often a part of life on Alaska's Emerald Isle:

Location: Kodiak
Case number: 08-14786
Type: Theft II, Terroristic Threatening II Criminal Mischief III
Text: On 02-25-2008 at approximately 0845hrs the Kodiak Launch Complex (KLC) reported criminal mischief and theft at the Launch Complex at Narrow Cape. During the investigation AST contacted Randall Eisenhauer, 53, of Kodiak. AST interviewed Eisenhauer and then left the residence Eisenhauer was staying at to continue the investigation. Eisenhauer then phoned KLC threatening to kill employees at KLC and himself. After a brief search for Eisenhauer in the Kodiak area Eisenhauer contacted AST Kodiak Post. Eisenhauer was initially taken into protective custody for mental evaluation. After Eisenhauer's release from mental evaluation he was arrested and lodged at the Kodiak Jail for Theft II and Terrostic Threatening II.

Author: DVD0
Received Monday, March 03, 2008 2:03 PM and posted Monday, March 03, 2008 2:14 PM

This week's crime of the week was pretty good, for at least a handful of reasons:

A Public Service Announcement
Crime of the Week
"Robbery 2nd"
08-8016

On 1/30/08 at about 2006 hours, AST responded to a reported robbery at the Tesoro station near mile 49 of the Parks Hwy, near Wasilla. Investigation determined a white male had entered the store and demanded cigarettes and cash from the clerk. He became angry and threatened the clerks when he was denied. The suspect began throwing objects at the clerk until the clerk surrendered a pack of cigarettes. The male was described as in his early thirties with medium length brown hair approximately 5" 8" tall and slender to medium build with no facial hair, wearing a gray Carhart type coat and dark colored hoodie sweatshirt. He was last seen running across the Parks Hwy towards Piittman Road.

The governor's daughter got into a fender bender that showed up on police reports. There are many reasons I have for disliking the governor. Don't get me wrong. I don't think she's doing a bad job. Well, I mean, it could be worse. I do, however, find her personality deplorable. Something about her speech patterns and suburban soccer mom persona just grates on my nerves. But none of my beefs with her as a person are more superficial or more heartfelt than my hatred for how she named her kids. She has four. Bristol, Piper, Track and Willow:

Wasilla Police Department
On February 8, 2008, at 1737 hours, Wasilla Police responded to two vehicle collision at Seward Meridian Parkway and Fireweed Drive . Investigation revealed that Bristol Palin, age 17 of Wasilla, was driving a 4-door sedan and attempted to turn into a business when she struck a 2-door sedan driven by Joshua Moffet, age 19, of Wasilla. Palin was issued a citation for Failing to Use Due Care to Avoid a Collision. Moffet was issued a citation for an expired registration and no proof of insurance.

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What’s Whack doing in Tennessee?
Current mood: drunk

Tornado Survivor Grabbed Pants, Whiskey

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The dang mosquitoes breed in there!
Current mood: accomplished

Springfield, Minnesota is a place I spent a great deal of my childhood. My father grew up there and, shortly after he split with my mother, moved back. I've toured the air compressor factory. Been to the brick yard. (Both tours, oddly enough, included people besides us. Which, looking back on it, means there are multiple families in rural Minnesota with little better to do than tour an air compressor factory... or at least there were in 1990.)

It's a damn nice place; farm country but filled with hard-working, good people. Lots of rich farmers with good senses of humor. They have a very cheap, very well-maintained golf course. And there's a modern pool with a waterslide that replaced the brick pool where I learned to swim. Springfield is also where I learned that I love Golden Grahams and that Hogan's Heroes is the funniest show on television. I like it there and I hope one day Gabe can spend his summers there, too.

That is, I hoped. Until I found out the place was run by a curmudgeonly, cartoon-hating crazy person. That Mac Tilberg is fucking nuts. And to all you fuckers who think city managers don't run cities, that elected politicians that we voted into office do... enjoy your ignorance.

From the Springfield (Illinois) Journal-Register:

Stay away, Homer

Some Springfields want no part of the Simpsons
BRUCE RUSHTON STAFF WRITER

Other Springfields, it seems, have better things to do.

"There's a bunch of people in town who don't want nothing to do with that show," said Mac Tilberg, city manager of a Springfield in Minnesota where no one is going ga-ga over "The Simpsons."

While some Springfields scheme and plot for advantage, Tilberg's town is one of at least two that said thanks-but-no-thanks when 20th Century Fox solicited Springfields to compete for the honor of hosting this summer's premiere of "The Simpsons Movie." A Springfield in Georgia also said no.

"We don't have time to do stuff like that," said Amber Nettles, deputy clerk for Springfield, Ga. "We've got to be focused on how the city runs before we can worry about extras."

In Minnesota, Tilberg says he's never seen "The Simpsons."

"I quit watching cartoons when I was 10 or 11," he said. "It's only a television show. It seems to me as though 20th Century Fox is slipping one in here. They're kind of using you to promote a movie that will make hundreds of millions of dollars at your expense."

Tilberg said he shopped the contest around town when the movie studio called in March but couldn't find much interest. Even if the Minnesota version of Springfield bested all others, the town (population 2,215) doesn't have a movie theater, so hosting a premiere would be problematic.

Some townfolk were adamantly opposed, Tilberg recalled, based on the depiction of Springfield in the television show.

"Everything that the Simpsons' Springfield is, we're not," he said. "We don't have any crime. The mayor's not corrupt."

The Minnesota Springfield has a big pile of tires, Tilberg admitted, but it's not on fire like the one on TV.

"The dang mosquitoes breed in there," he said.

Tilberg bristled at the notion that his town might be suffering from an inferiority complex that prevents it from competing because losing would be devastating to whatever semblance of civic pride or psyche might exist in a town known for ...

Well, that's a good question, isn't it?

"It's nothing to do with an inferiority complex," said Tilberg, who pointed out that Springfield, Minn., is known for its air-compressor manufacturing plant. "Our little town could absolutely outshine any Springfield in America. There's no sour grapes. You can say you've got something (special). You don't, either."

Abraham Lincoln?

"The guy died a long time ago," Tilberg responded. "Guess what? Elvis is dead, too. Where is that - Kentucky or something?"

Don't have a cow, man.

"We thought it was going to be a cardboard thing," said Tim Farley, executive director of the Springfield Convention and Visitors Bureau.

"This box in my office is 10 foot by 6 foot. It's 450 pounds of plastic. There's a DVD on how to put this thing together. We're all shocked."

A Springfield in Kentucky is going all out, according to a story published Wednesday in the Springfield Sun, which urged would-be stars to contact the town committee that's in charge of the film.

"Auditions will be necessary for some parts such as vocalists, actors, a pianist, a quartet, church choir and perhaps more as the details are formulated," the newspaper reported. "One particular scene will require full mask costumes (not clothing but face masks only) and anyone willing to participate in this scene is also asked to call. Those participants must furnish their own mask, which can be purchased online."

As in Abraham Lincoln's Springfield, the Springfield in Kentucky isn't saying much about what will be in the film sent to contest judges.

Farley said the contest is all in good fun and well worth his time.

"You will have your naysayers, obviously," he said. "I've never seen anything with this much interest locally. It's about getting free publicity for the city."

There's no shame in being known as the Springfield where the Simpsons live, according to at least one academician.

"I think the honor of being mentioned at all is stronger than the jokes you have to take," said Karma Waltonen, a lecturer at the University of California-Davis who has a doctorate in English literature.

Waltonen takes her Simpsons seriously. While at Florida State University, she taught a class called "Writing About The Simpsons: Satire and Post-Modernism." Good things happen in the fictional Springfield, she says. Every show has a happy ending, and the seemingly dysfunctional Simpson family always gets things right in the end.

"The message of the show at the end is always one that's really positive," Waltonen said. "The marriage is in trouble, but by the end of the show, they're going to figure out a way to keep it together. The children learn lessons. The family stays together. The message ends up being as old-school family values as anything else."

But Waltonen isn't sure she could live in the Simpson's Springfield.

"The bright colors might give me a headache," she said.

Currently watching : Futurama, Vol. 2 Release date: 12 August, 2003

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Supercriminals
Current mood: impressed
Category: Games

A young man is heading to trial this week for a couple of semi-related incidents in August. Barely out of high school, the man wracked up an impressive list of charges after he ran from police in a stolen Ford Explorer, ditched it in a parking lot off the highway, then ran away through the woods.

Police went to his house and, lacking a warrant, had to get permission from the man's parole officer to enter his apartment. This, apparently, gave the young man enough time to barricade his apartment door with a couch and leap through a second story window. Police were dumbfounded.

Then, two days later police found him again. This time he'd stolen a motorhome. (Amburger saw part of this pursuit, a motorhome passed her then a gaggle of squad cars with lights flashing. She looked up the press release and when she got to the perp's name I yelled, "shit!" and quickly called my editor to rescind a brief I'd filed on the couch barricade incident. The story, understandably, had just changed dramatically.)

So the dude drives around Wasilla, police in tow, before they finally manage to get his tires popped and he pulls into the largest parking lot around, that of Fred Meyer's, and runs inside the store. Police find him somewhere in the back (one can assume near the meat coolers, though maybe he was in Sporting goods or girls' clothing) where they arrest him and cart him off to jail.

It's been awhile since August, and when I saw "Scottie Ramsey" on the court calendar I had to turn to our archives to refresh my memory. I came across an article from last year about a similar spree Mr. Ramsey had engaged in. He and a friend stole a truck from Anchorage and then ran from the cops, hitting a patrol car before taking off. He, like a lot of criminals, ended up in the Valley where they stole a motorcycle and loaded it into the back.

Then police popped his tires and he drove into a parking lot, then over a bike path (that's where the motorcycle fell out) and into a swamp. He ran on foot and was arrested.

Apparently that's what he was out on parole for.

It's just got me thinking a little about what it is in this Valley that creates supercriminals. He's probably the fourth. Three of my other favorites:

Man mad at his wife throws a propane tank through her window, then drives off. Troopers spot him further up the road and he comes to a stop, throws his car in reverse, and rams them.

Man running from cops after being shot in the neck runs through a home he's just entered illegally looking for keys to the 4-wheeler he spotted outside. He sees a stunned 14-year-old and stops long enough to advise her, "Don't be like me" before running out the door, keys in hand (that incident, by the way, was cited at sentencing as evidence of his redeemable character and a reason he shouldn't be hit with the maximum sentence. The judge agreed, kinda. Sort of split the difference between what the defense and prosecution were asking for. Another thing I find ironic is that judges will say things like, "I've been hearing your trials since I became a judge" or "I remember when you came in here after stealing a car at age 13," but will say, soon after and without irony, that they know the person isn't such a bad guy.).

Man running from cops runs his truck into a tree. Ambulances show up. He's unconscious. They turn their back on him for a minute and he disappears. They find him slumped over behind the wheel of the ambulance he'd tried to steal with a ruptured spleen. Man later escapes while on bail to attend his father's funeral and goes on the lam for two weeks, prompting law makers to tighten up temporary release rules.

What is it about the Mat-Su Valley? Why are criminals so goddamn awesome/stupid up here? There's a couple today that ran from cops on stolen snowmachines, hitting trooper cars twice before getting stuck in barbwire and hitting a light pole respectively.

I think it might have something to do with the methlabs. Maybe it puts something in the air. Only the criminal who told the girl not to be like him admitted to having a meth problem So if none of these guys are methheads it must be something else, perhaps in the air or the water. But meth being the huge national scourge that it is and the Valley being Alaska's meth capital, I firmly believe it plays a role.

Whatever. I guess I don't need an explanation. It certainly keeps my job interesting.

Currently listening : Mambo Italiano [Maxi-Single] By Wiseguy Orchestra Release date: 25 January, 2000

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Shame on me!
Current mood: lazy

So I had my first rape story the other day. Visions of crazed Coast-Guardsmen kidnapping me and driving into the woods to hunt me for sport plagued my dreams but, in the interest of fairness, I called the accused's parents. The accused is 19 (old enough to have his name printed but not old enough, apparently, to have left home). After I explained myself, the boy's mother handed the phone off to the boy's father. "It's the newspaper. They want to write a fucking story about (the boy)" she told him.

So I sat and listened to a good five minutes of abuse from the father. I Re-iterated my request for comment, informed the father that I was giving him a chance to balance the story, to tell his side, and got nowhere. Ten minutes after I hung up he called the editor. Apparently they were tag-teaming because the mother was in the ad manager's office (not realizing, I guess, that the ad manager traditionally and for good reason has no power over editorial content).

I was actually impressed with the way I handled myself. I reiterated our policy of printing stories of major crimes and waiting for the accused to be arriagned. I took every opportunity to explain that his statement could actually help his son and repeatedly asked if parts of our conversation could be included in my story. When he declined comment and insisted the story should not be printed, I stood my ground and referred the father to my editor, just like they told me in J-school.

Anyway, long story short, we ran the thing but in a highly edited form. "Signs of anal penetration" was reduced to "Signs of penetration" and "Foreplay rubbing" ran in place of "Making out while naked." Like most police reports dealing with rape allegations, the one filed in this case was very, very graphic. Precious little of it was printable.

I suppose it's inevitable that such a story would prompt community ourtrage. But the following letter is only my second piece of hatemail so it's worth a blog:

---------

Shame on Mirror for sensationalism
Letter to the Editor
Article published on Thursday, October 20th, 2005
By A. Pistoff Kodiakan

In reference to the front-page story in the paper Tuesday concerning a local man charged with sexual assault: Shame on you! This is a small town, where people care about and support each other during hard times. These are young people who are in need of that support, not additional humiliation. It is insensitive and incredibly harmful to print details about this kind of case that the public has no need to know. That article is the kind of cold-hearted sensational journalism that may be seen in big-city newspapers where people do not know each other or care about anything except increasing their circulation.

It is too late to undo the harm you have done to these particular youth; printed words cannot be taken back. Perhaps in the future the content of your articles could be examined more carefully for decency and common courtesy.

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

For those of you who skipped the letter, I'll summarize: "We live in a small town. Therefore, rape allegations aren't newsworthy." Of course the exact opposite is true. All the big city papers I've read don't print this sort of thing because there's simply too much to keep up with. Unless, of course, it's a serial rapist with at least 3 victims all of whom are white, the accused also is alleged to have used the transmission from a '58 Chevy or other large foreign object in the act, the accused slaughtered chickens and bathed the alleged victim in the birds' blood, etc etc.

Sometimes I wish I could print responses to letters. Although I enjoy city life, I get the feelnig the letter's author does not. Why else would she live on this rock? And I get the feeling she's damn glad she lives in a place where this sort of thing is news. Where the police department website isn't filled with scads of unreported murders.

All told, though, I'm about as satisfied as can be with the story. It was factual, everything was attributed, we withheld the name of the victim (a minor) and it was as balanced as I could possibly make it. I called everyone involved and gave them all time to comment. I kickass. Anybody who thinks otherwise can fornicate themselves with an iron stick.

Currently reading : The Associated Press Stylebook 2005 and Briefing on Media Law By AP Release date: 2005

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I am God's messanger so listen the fuck up
Current mood: impressed

When I started working in Kodiak and realized that my e-mail address at work would be published daily in print and on the web, I was a little worried. But that was before the fun started.

Of course our policy on publishing e-mail addresses does generate a lot of unsolicited e-mails from Nigerian bankers who have recently come into a large sum of money they are willing to share. But the e-mails in reaction to my stories are a blast. The number of illiterates, activists and religious nuts who think I agree with them or even give a shit about what they think is mind-boggling. Where these people find the time to read stories from a 2,000-circulation paper in rural Alaska, let alone to write responses, is beyond me.

And so, dear readers, we begin the first installment of “This Month in Drool’s Inbox.”

One of the things I’ve noticed ever since I wrote a profile of the Unification Church in Kodiak is that the Moonies are a lot like the anti-Wal-Mart people. Both like to fill my inbox with scads of e-mail. Both seem to think that just because I wrote an article about their particular obsession I somehow agree wholeheartedly with their worldviews. I’m not a fan of Wal-Mart but I wouldn’t call it a fascistic monolith. Nor do I think my article implied otherwise, just like I don’t think writing a non-negative (but still not positive) article about the UC in Kodiak makes me a good candidate for conversion.

And just like the anti-Wal-Marters, the Unificationists have a particular flair for hyperbole. Just as these articles from obscure websites that make it to my inbox “strike a blow” against Wal-Mart and “expose” Wal-Mart’s corruption, my article showed me to be a "channel for God's Will." I’ve been getting these Moonie things all week, 10 so far. And they just keep getting more and more awesome.

Apparently my article made it to some international Moonie e-mail newsletter. Our fisheries reporter (a Moonie elder) said she had nothing to do with it. Maybe Moon himself had a hand in it. I wouldn't put it past him. Whoever did it, I’m starting to get a little worried about how all this attention will affect the public’s perception of my objectivity.

Not too worried though.

Anyway, here’s a selection of this month’s e-mails. Since I don’t trust you fuckers, names have been removed.

The first is pretty mild. And I like the salmon metaphor and the use of the word “tripe”:

Mr. Wellner

I must say that, as a Unificationist, [who has for too long seen too many hatchet jobs and regurgitation of univestigated facts rule the day] I found your article balanced and comprehensive and yes even positive. And that can't hurt after all the tripe and negativity.

I hope you didn't have to swim against any strong tides to get the news out! But then again that's what makes a salmon strong.

good luck & best wishes,
A. Moonie

The second is less mild. I, apparently, am doing God’s work. And I thought I was an immoral, drunken atheist. Who knew?

God Bless You, Brother :)

Thank you for that wonderful objective article about the Unification Church in Kodiak.

May many more newspapers and other medias follow your example of excellent journalism throughout the USA and the world.

Expect great Blessings coming to you and your family......

Albeit a small newspaper, your works have made history, for which all your future descendant will be mighty proud of, when they eventually will know the value of Father Moon. I hope that you will deepen your understanding of Father Moon's vision, by studying the "Divine Principle".

Again, Thank You for being a channel for God's Will in this historic time. May God Bless You and Your Family abundantly.

Sincerely,
A. Nother Moonie

I hope when he told me to “expect great Blessings” he meant drugs, booze and hookers will be showing up at my doorstep. Anything less and I’ll feel ripped off.

And here’s an e-mail that has nothing to do with Unificationism but which struck me as funny nonetheless. It is in reference to an article I did about the city considering an ordinance to ban roosters from city limits. I think assemblyman Walters said it best when he observed that no other city he is aware of allows roosters in the city limits and that it is time for Kodiak “to enter this century.” Note the letter’s author’s casual attitude towards grammar and punctuation and his misspelling of the word “criminal.”

Mr Wellner,

The people that are complaining about the rooster need to get life. I have over 30 rooster at my house and there is no smell as far as the crowing goes it is nothing compared to a barking dog than I am sure some of the people complaining have also one dog will draw more flies and stink more than several chickens, maybe they should be made to get rid of themdogs.

As far as cockfighting goes ,Walters said it is a inherently cruel thing, I dont know why people make such a big thing about fighting a chicken it is on top of our food chain and not any worse than fishing, or hunting, why make a creminal out of person for that,

Ima Cockfarmer
Thackerville, Oklahoma

Maybe it’s wrong of me to make fun of my readers. I mean without them I’d be out of a job. But then I think they asked for it when they sent the e-mails. And I’m sure none are subscribers.

Currently listening : The Transformers: The Movie - Original Motion Picture Soundtrack By Various Artists Release date: 10 March, 1992

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It ain't over yet, bitches
Current mood: content

I know fiction week is over but I liked this story so much I decided to post it. The lovely Amber wrote it as a companion to my meager contribution. It clarifies things.

Really I'm just posting it for the boost it gives my ego. I mean it's like fan fiction written in tribute to my own work! I'm a damn celebrity.


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

"Aspen! Pick up your Legos NOW, or they're going in the garbage!" I yelled from the kitchen. I was doing dishes, I hate doing dishes, but they had been sitting there since I'd made chili for Francis. That was three days ago.

Francis had been acting so strange these last few days. He was so distant and withdrawn, and if interrupted he would startle and become angry. In fact just today when I had talked to him on the phone to see if he was coming over tonight, he'd said no, he had something important to do for work, and that he'd found the coolest thing under his car. When I asked what it was he was silent. I waited, but he remained silent. Finally I told him I had to go.

"Mom, you can just throw them away, I don't want them anymore."

I was about to reply with a threat far worse than Legos in the trash when there was a knock at the door. I could hear heavy, labored breathing on the other side. I opened the door cautiously. Who would be knocking this early? Francis had some important job to do, so it couldn't be him.

There was only a fraction of a second between the time that my eyes saw him, and my brain registered what I was seeing. But thinking back on it, it was that fraction of a second that seemed to be the longest part of this whole ordeal. It was that fraction of a second that changed my life, and altered my grip on reality.

"Jesus", was the only thing I could think to say.

As is customary for Francis, he responded with some stupid comment about not calling him Jesus.

Somewhere behind me I heard Aspen sing, "Jesus, Jesus, your name is Jesus." And then the scream. A primal scream. I'd only heard this type of scream once before when a man came into the hospital with brain damage and a smashed skull from a car crash. It was the purest type of scream I have ever heard. Completely uninhibited and animalistic.

My mind spun, I could feel the darkness closing in. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. Just as I had learned from working in the emergency room, I exhaled, forcing the breath and panic out.

I opened my eyes just in time to see Francis slump to the floor. I began assessing his wounds. My god where was his face? I removed the claw hammer that stuck out of his cheek. It was so close to his eye. Just as I was finishing wrapping the towel around his head, he began to wake up.

"Francis, what the hell happened?!"

He managed to recount the story of the three men in the McDonalds parking lot between ragged and gurgling breaths.

...

The paramedics came and took Francis away, and I took Aspen to my mom's. He would stay there today and probably tonight. I spent some time doing my best to comfort and console him, and then left for the hospital.

When I arrived, I let myself in through the password-protected emergency room doors. As I was walking towards the nurses’ desk, I noticed a Hispanic man wearing an apron sitting in the pediatric room. He was hunched over and rocking.

In Francis' room there were two uniformed police officers, Dr. Burnside, and a man I had seen on many occasions dealing with the psych patients. It was Dr. Jensen, he was the local psychiatrist.

I was introduced to officer Maloney and Officer Marks.

"Mahogany, did Francis tell you what happened?" Asked Officer Marks.

"Yes he was jumped by three men in the McDonalds drive through, and then left in the dumpster behind El Chicanos. Did you find them?"

"Well, yes...we found three men we believe were involved, but we have no reason to believe that they hurt Francis in any way. We also investigated the dumpster where Francis said he woke up..."

The officer paused; he had an uncomfortable look on his face.

"What?!" I demanded.

"Mahogany, has Francis had any history of mental illness?" asked Dr. Jensen.

"No, not that I'm aware of. What the fuck is going on!?"

"Well, we didn't find Francis' car in the drive-through like we expected, so we checked out the dumpster behind Elchies. His car was there, and inside we found blood all over the drivers side of the car. Massive amounts of blood on the steering wheel and blood and tissue on the driver’s side window."

Dr. Burnside chimed in, "also these wounds are consistent with self-inflicted wounds. There's no way this was done by anyone but Francis himself."

Those speckled lights that threatened to take over when I first laid eyes on Francis' mangled face had returned. I fought it.

"Emanuel, cummere." Shouted Officer Maloney.

The Mexican man with the apron came walking slowly in, he looked miserable, and his eyes were bloodshot and swollen.

"Manny, tell her what you saw."

I recognized him now; he was the cook at El Chicanos, the only Mexican restaurant in town.

I was taking out the garbage to the dumpster ... and ... this guy here, this fucking guy..." His voice cracked, and he appeared to be choking back a gag. "...he was sitting in his car and he was hitting himself with something, and there was blood....he was peeling off his face...he was tearing pieces of his fucking face off!" He stopped and slumped onto the nearest chair sobbing.

"We went in to talk to the people at the restaurant, and found Manny here huddled in the corner."

"So what about those three guys?" I asked

"Mahogany why don't you go ahead and sit down honey," officer Maloney said with that familiar southern drawl.

"No. I don't want to sit, just tell me. Please!"

"Well, ok. We were searching the car, and we opened the trunk. There were three men in there; they had all been beaten to death with a blunt instrument, probably the hammer you found. We could only identify one, the others are at the morgue. We're still trying to figure out who they are. But the one we could ID was Jimmy James. Do you know who he is?"

"Yeah, I know him…"

Again the darkness was coming, it closed in around me, but I didn't fight it this time, I let it wash over me, and as I was falling, I heard myself whisper, "Jesus..."

Currently listening : My Aim Is True (With Bonus Disc) By Elvis Costello Release date: 21 August, 2001

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