My First B-12 Shot

 I was doing a post about addiction and talking about never taking iv drugs, and it reminded me of my first B-12 shot. I think I told this story way back in my first blog but that was years ago. I was 22 I think and I was playing in an incredible band a couple of nights a week plus trying to squeeze in a few classes and working five days doing "landscraping" at a hospital here.
 There was this amazing woman named Libby who worked in admin in a doctor's office. She seemed really nice and she was completely hot. She had long blond hair and a classic, gorgeous face. Body by Fisher. She could've easily been a movie star but I'm glad she wasn't. She'd smile and make eye contact when I'd see her in the cafeteria or somewhere, but I thought maybe she was grinning at what a goofydick I looked like wearing a sometimes-dirty uniform every day, with the forest-green pants and bright yellow shirt that made us look like zoo employees or something.
 One day I was sittin' with the fellers over at our grimy table and I remember it was hot as balls that Summer and it was 101 in the shade that day. I wasn't all sweaty or anything like that. I saw Libby in line and she gave me an extra-nice smile. She paid for her lunch and to my amazement she asked if she could join us. "I insist" I said. To tell you the truth none of us could be considered a bad-looking guy and we cleaned-up okay, so it wasn't like we were repulsive to women or anything, but I'd never have thought about getting together with any body looking like that.
 Randy was a great guy and he looked exactly like the traditional image of Jesus, with long, straight brown hair and beard. Interestingly he was very "religious" too, but he was a really cool guy. He was down to earth and he had a dry sense of humor. Jay, "Hosepipe Guy," had really curly hair and a mustache and he could've been a character actor at least. Flo was a tall black guy, about 6-6 and he looked down on just about everybody, from a height standpoint that is. He was gruff but he was hilarious and a good guy and he was a trip to mess with, although very carefully.
 There was Willie, who became a good friend and someone I kept up with for years after I left. Willy was another tall black man who was better-looking than all the rest of combined. Willie was awesome and he also became friends with Dr. Jon, who was the bass player but was going to be a doctor and worked at the same hospital then. Willie came out to almost all our gigs and parties and whatever else was going on. Being a "Horticreature" as we called ourselves got a bit too hot for him that Summer so he got a transport job inside and he moved on up and still works there as far as I know.  Willie was family.
 Besides Willie, James was my favorite. He was a short black cat who had a cool mustache that came down his face and was trimmed nicely at the bottom. He had one of the coolest faces I've ever seen on a black guy. He was definitely black but he had a bit of an Hispanic-looking deal going on possibly, but it was unique. He was always smiling. He was also hilarious and in fact one of the funniest people I've known. He had sharp features and with that mustache he looked just like a happy Sheriff in some old Western, only black. He even had a great "Howdy, pardner" look on his face all the time. Give him a cowboy hat and a six-gun and he could've had a career in the movies. We were cool, and he came to several of our gigs. I remember some of the funny things he said to this day.
 OMG I just remembered. This is incredible. Apparently women found him irresistible. I've seen people like that but nothing in my life like James. Women would walk past and there would be a brief exchange of words and it always ended with plans to get together, usually that evening. I always assumed he knew them from the hospital, but when I'd ask he'd say "I dunno. Just met her." It was amazing. I remember one week that was a bit of a milestone for him. He had not one, not two but three women in the same hospital on the same floor; all having his babies at the same time. I shit you not. That has to be close to some sort of record. Meanwhile during all that he was still at work charming the pants off of new talent. I could see how women were attracted to him, especially since he was a true comedian, but I never sawr anything like it before or since. He was a piece of work.
 Anyway I ramble but it's always fun remembering crazy shit from ages ago. So Libby say down and freaked us out a little but certainly in a good way, and the rest is history. We went out that night. I went over to her apartment and the plan was to go out for dinner, but she looked at me and said "You look like you'd just as soon have dinner here." In fact I'd played a gig the night before and gotten maybe four hours sleep before going to work that day and I was a little tired. I said sure that'd be nice. It actually was a relief. I said I'd order delivery but she said no and she ended up whipping up a really nice meal later that evening. She asked me if I'd been out late cutting up and I said yes, but kinda working too. "You work another job too?" she asked. "What do you do?" "I play music." "Really?" she said. "In town?" "Yes." I told her a little about us and that a couple of the guys she'd met came out occasionally to see us.
 Of course that was a feather in my cap, but the good thing about it is she found that out after she was already interested in me. Although it was impossible 100% of the time, I tried not to exploit women who basically came up to me and offered themselves for the evening just because they were turned-on because I was in a band. I don't think it would've mattered too much anyway because she really liked me and I really liked her too. She was a true sweetheart and we went out for a long time until she moved to Chicago for a year to go to school and when she came back she was single but I wasn't. I wish I'd kept in touch.
 Anywho when she found out I had a legit reason for being tired and I wasn't some manic drunk or whatever, she said she had something that might help. I asked what and she said a B-12 shot. I'd heard of them and I'd heard they made you feel so good and energetic that it was almost a buzz. I said okay. She went into the kitchen and came back a minute later holding up a syringe filled with red liquid and tapping it. "It's okay" she said. "I work for a doctor." I laughed and started to reach my arm out but she said "Drop 'em." "Huh?" I said. "Your pants. Drop 'em." I could tell from her mock-serious tone that she knew what she was doing. She told me that that's where they give them. I said fine but if I was going to show her my rear I couldn't guarantee I could cover up all of my front. "It's okay" she repeated. "I work for a doctor." She was already looking down toward my rear. I liked her already.
 I dropped trou. Luckily I was wearing a button-down so I was able to more or less keep my front covered. She grabbed the bottom of my shirt and helped pull it up, and then she did something really cute...and hot...she leaned around and smiled and pretended to have a quick peek at the front of my shirt. Then she went back around and stuck it in the bun. It felt a little cool from being in the fridge but I could barely feel the shot itself. I thought maybe I didn't feel anything because I was on a buzz just from the night and being with her, but it's always like that. B-12 is a very thin liquid and non-acidic so it doesn't burn or irritate tissue as much.
 I pulled my pants up but after she'd done that little thing I figured there'd be a 50-50 chance they wouldn't stay on to too much longer. Right before I got zipped she went "Sooooo...ummmmmm..." "Yes?" I said. "Well, you don't have to be in a big hurry to do that...if you don't want to" she said. Bingo. Speaking of irritated tissue, the next day we both had gnarly rug-burns, and hers were so bad she had to wear dresses for a couple of days. We had lunch the next day, which luckily was Friday, and we sat at a small table to the side of the cafeteria. We might as well have been sitting dead-center. With no clothes on. It was great...she had on a nice dress with bandages on both knees, and I was doing the crabwalk all day long. It was painfully obvious, and anyone who cared, knew. She said the people in her office basically lined up and gave her shit one by one, like "So, do anything fun last night? Oh, what's wrong with your knees? Do you need medical attention?" and stuff like that. Man, she was a good sport about it and she laughed it off. They all loved her anyway.
 I guess I'd put my "First B-12 shot" story up against anyone's. Libby was cool. I hope she's well.

How to Scare the F*ck out of Anybody/Seriously-Cool Stuff

[WARNING/DISCLAIMER: I shouldn't have to say it, but DON'T DO THIS! This is for educational purposes only. No representation is made that the quality of...blah, blah. I neither own nor intend to obtain any of these products, although they are legal in most states. Having said that, I'd gladly be an R&D guy for their company. Don't be a dumbass, and have a nice day.]
 I've been literally lol-ing watching a video that popped up in my feed, and then going to the website and watching more vids. The first one was for this cool toy. Okay...to call it "cool" might be bad considering what it represents and mines are especially horrible, plus the fact that war is a terrible thing, but taken strictly as a toy, and one that involves pyrotechnics, it rocks.
 It's apparently an authentic replica and it actually works. It uses the plastic bang caps that have been around forever. I wish I had a nickel for every bang cap I shot as a kid. I'd be fabulously-wealthy. I figured it was a vintage thing; especially considering it doesn't seem very "PC" at all. Actually it's a modern toy and it's made right here in the USA. Who knew? It works by (carefully) pulling back the spring lever and putting the cap on top of a post, and locking down the whapper. It's exactly like you'd bait a mousetrap. We had similar stuff when I was a kid but nothing specifically made to be triggered by a tripwire (or pull-wire). I'd have gone berserk with this thing and probably gotten in some pretty big trouble. Judging by how hard I was laughing earlier I'd say that's a safe bet.
 The first thing that made me laugh was when the guy said "You can use your imagination as to how you can use this," and I did. What was funnier was that it reminded me of something I saw in a catalog years ago. There was a page about stun guns and they were listed in order of price and power. They each had a description and they each got a tad more serious in tone as the price, and voltage, went up. Maybe it was like "The model-A will slow down an angry grandmother. The model X-5 will piss-off a biker. Model Stunno-007 will make the bad guy woozy. The XL ZAPRUDER Model with stop a guy unless he's high on PCP, and so on. No, actually it was all pretty dry until the last model. They'd list the voltage and specs and it might say something like "This one will stop an attacker long enough for you to go get help." It was the same thing until they got to the flagship model. It said, simply, "We call this one 'The Laxative.'" I didn't expect that and it cracked me up.
 The video showed the toy in action and also in super-slo-mo and it was just bad-ass. The knocker unit that fires the cap is metal and similar in size and weight to a pair of nail clippers. The cap knocked it into the air and had it spinning around. I was impressed. The narrator said that it will scare you even when you're ready for it and I believe it. Those caps are loud for their size. It's not about how much powder you use but how tightly it's packed and sealed. The plastic ones had the same amount of powder as the regular paper caps, but the paper caps only had to blast through thin paper while the others had to go through plastic, so they were much louder. The paper ones weren't too shabby though. A roll had about 50-60 shots maybe. I'd put an entire roll on a nice sturdy rock and smash it with a hammer. It was just balls-loud and it's a miracle I can still hear at all. Well, lo and behold I found out that that was just their little trademark toy, and they made real shit.

Like this. It's called a "perimeter defense accessory" or something like that. This definitely the grownup version. It has a primer that's triggered by a pull string and it fires a naked shell. To the company's credit they warned against trying to load it with a regular shotgun shell and showed how the pellets blew out to the side and failed to scuff a Styrofoam head five feet away. Safety first. They do make another version that has a short barrel that I suppose could be a bit more lethal.
 It said the the regular blank cartridge, shown here, puts out a three-foot flame and puts out about 120db. Not bad. I clicked on the Products link to see what other shells besides blanks they might have, and oh, joy...they have some good ones. They had another blank round that had a bigger flash and put out 172dbs. That'd fuck you up for a minute. They had shells with pepper spray. If I were a cat burglar and I walked onto someone's front porch and was greeted with an unexpected shotgun blast and a face-full of mace I'd probably think twice before messing with that particular residence again.
 They mentioned that you could even use the toy version for protection by rigging it to hotel doors. A little cap would be loud enough to get a few other guests to open their doors and would probably send the perp scurrying off down the hallway. Maybe they'd crash into the ice machine for good measure. I don't reckon you'd want to try it with this version. If you did I doubt the perp would ever even mess with the same hotel chain again, but at the same time you wouldn't want to give yourself a heart attack from the surprise. Dang. My mind started wandering just thinking about all the fun (also known as trouble) I could have gotten into if I'd had one of these units in my formative years. It could've become an issue.

They also sell high-quality "cannon" fuse. This is what the pros use. It burns at a constant rate and even burns underwater. Back in the day we made homemade fireworks and we needed fuse, so we either cannibalized fuses from fireworks we took apart or bought fuse for Estes rocket engines, which we also put to good use.
 We'd build custom "fireworks rockets" where we'd take a regular Estes rocket, which was pretty cool by itself, and pack it full of fireworks and run fuses to everything. We'd put extra rocket engines and stabilizers and such to make up for the added weight. They were most impressive. The rockets flew so high that they were basically like real fireworks-display fireworks. They'd go up in the air and then halfway up more engines would kick in and send them for the Moon, while the fireworks would ignite. At the top of the flight, which was pretty high up, our little rockets would explode in a blaze of M-80 and cherry bomb glory. I couldn't even guess how many times we had the cops called on us but that was just part of the deal.

They also have special ghost-pepper cartridges when ordinary capsaicin just won't do. Maybe if you find yourself in a known drug-dealing part of town, where people could be high on Angel Dust or Flakka, then the ghost pepper rounds might be a better option. They also have waterproof blanks.They're simply coated with wax but they function normally. Those would be the best for long-term perimeter protection out in the elements. But the most impressive rounds are these "Dragon's Breath" shells. The literature said that they'll shoot a flame 300'. WTF...a shotgun shell that shoots a 300' flame? I'd never heard of anything like it and I had a bit of a hard time believing it...

...until I saw this. A little shotgun shell can do this? Damn. It also burns at over 5,000F. That's mind-bending. I reckon you could fuck some shit up royally with a few of those. Really it's a good thing these weren't around when I was a kid. I'd never have tried to burn anything down or hurt anybody, but the neighbors would've certainly gotten quite a display.
 Speaking of scaring the fuck our of somebody, I'm sure any of these products would do the trick, especially with the tripwire thing. I've always been a bit of a prankster, and I've been known to go to great lengths to set up elaborate pranks for some of my best friends,  but it was always fun stuff. I never tried to scare or hurt anyone obviously, but I'd have no problem scaring the shit out of a bad guy. They get what they deserve. And I know what it's like basically to have a shotgun blast go off five feet away when you aren't expecting it. It will change your mood in a heartbeat.
 Back in the day we used to camp out at the Cahaba River. Usually I'd go down there in the afternoon to gather wood and build a massive fire. There was a trail that went alongside the river. We'd go about half a mile down so that the fire couldn't be seen from the road. Some older guys did the same thing, only they had Jeeps and four-wheelers so they'd go further down the trail. Once in a while they'd steal out wood but usually they'd respect us and drive around the massive tepee structure I'd built. One night they'd done that, but they'd left us a little gift. I leaned over to light the kindling and I was blowing on the fire when BOOM, an M-80 went off right in my face. No, it didn't startle the fuck out of me or anything like that. Payback is hell though, and when I looked to see if they'd put in any more surprises for us I found about half a dozen unexploded M-80s.I carefully plucked them from the fire, and around 5am when the older guys came past us going home I lit the remaining M-80s and tossed them on the hoods of their vehicles. It was all in good fun and I think they appreciated us getting them back.
 So I can definitely imagine what it would be like for a bad guy, who was already jumpy because he or she was committing a crime, to be startled shitless by an unexpected 172db blast going off in their face. Speaking of shitless, I'm guessing the perp would shit himself. The cops could just follow the trail of shit all the way to the perps residence and make a bust. In any case I had a blast, so to speak, discovering all the wonderful pyrotechnics this brilliant company has to offer. Yep, yep...so many pyrotechnics...so little time. Sure this stuff is great for its intended purpose, but oh, the hell you could raise. A shell that shoots a 300' flame at 5,000F? Seriously? Get the fuck out of here. FLAME ON!

Third I Shades

This is incredible. I never saw this photo of my boy Prince, or these shades. I lol'd when I saw it. That was one really clever individual who thought this up. It's a play on the concept of the "third eye," or the Pineal gland. I miss Prince. He's one of my favorite musicians hands-down. I love the expression on his face. He knows those shades are some shit, and that even wearing them is audacious, but Prince could pull it off no problem.
 The third-eye deal could be diabolical due to what it represents to some people, even though it's hilarious. I guess I'll have to go into my usual "conspiracy" rant. If you really believe the "official explanation" the Prince really died in an elevator, which just so happend to be his biggest trademark, then you need to wake your ass up. WE'VE BEEN LIED TO. Get over it folks. Wake up. It's your only chance.

Quote of the Day

"They would not have to deceive us if they were more powerful than we are. They would not have to conceal the truth if it were not powerful."- Steve Olson

Light-Eating Laser

Well, if this isn't some shit. Scientists have come up with a new type of Laser that eats light. That's right...it doesn't create light, it eats it. Up until now the only thing that consumes light that I know of is a black hole, and that's a "gravity" deal. Supposedly the "gravity" in a black hole is so strong that it pulls in even light. I doubt this new Laser works by creating a black hole.
 This was just announced so I haven't had time to look into it much, but from what I gather after scanning an article or two it seems that it works pretty much exactly like the Bose noise-cancelling headphones (and the hypothetical "anti-bark" device) I just talked about in a recent post. I may not have this correct but apparently it matches the frequencies of light and sets up a counter-wave that's exactly opposite in frequency. When the beam, or whatever it is, from the Laser hits light, it cancels it out just like two waves meeting head-on in the ocean when one is at peak and on is at the bottom of the trough. For an instant they meet and cancel one another and the surface of the water briefly becomes flat and still. If you could create waves that exactly matched the normal incoming waves in amplitude and rate and all, you could create perfectly calm seas. It's the same principle with the Laser, at least if I understand what I was reading.
 I should have read more before I posted this but it's so wild I couldn't help it. I'm assuming it means any light including regular white light, instead of a single color, or frequency. White light is a mixture of all the colors (frequencies) at once, and unlike a normal Laser beam which is concentrated into a thin beam, normal white light is scattered all over the place. Please consult your Physics books for details, but a frequency can be considered a wave, and it can also be considered particles at the same time, so shining a white light is akin to shooting a shotgun, with the pellets (particles) going forward but flying all over the place. That a Laser, or anything else could cancel that out seems like magic. Maybe it is.
 As I've said before, it's not a question of if technology is ahead of what we know, but how far it's ahead. To recap, we know that it's definitely ahead of what we know; otherwise we wouldn't be getting the new iPhone 25 and anything "new and improved." Over the last decade or so I've heard quite a few people weigh-in on this topic. Some people say that we're maybe a few years or a decade ahead. Interestingly the vast majority of people think it's around a half-century, which is no doubt surprising to most people. A handful of people think it's so far ahead of what we know that it's basically impossible to calculate, but on the order of centuries or even millennia. That's nuts, but who are we to say that isn't the case? We don't know. Most of us aren't scientists, but I doubt even most scientists have a clue. Information like that is guarded with lives, and everyone involved is strictly on a need-to-know basis, which means that they don't know a thing about the big picture; only the little chip or whatever part it is that will eventually go into the bigger thing.
 Information is compartmentalized; just like the cubicles the workers sit in. By the way, if you read-up on the Manhattan Project, which was one of the best-kept secrets in all of history, you'll begin to understand how huge secrets were actually kept secret. Estimates vary, but without looking it up I'm pretty sure the number of people directly working on the Manhattan project was over 100,000, and maybe many more. That's a lot of people "keeping a secret," but really they never knew the secret to begin with, at least until they bombed Nagasaki or whatever and the employees found out about what they'd been working on (maybe) at the same time as John Q.Public.
 It wasn't like they went in to apply for a job making 3" bolts eight hours a day, and the boss said "Okay, we're building a big-ass bomb here and we don't know exactly who or when yet, but we're going to bomb the fuck out of somebody, and that 3" bolt you'll be building holds the warhead on. But it's a SECRET, so don't tell anyone!" It wasn't like that at all, but that's basically what most people think when they say it'd be impossible to keep a secret from so very many people. They never knew in the first place. I doubt that out of all those people who built 3" bolts for "Little Boy" and "Fat Man" and everyone else involved, any more than about a dozen people knew the whole story. If you can get your head around that idea then you'll begin to understand that they can, and do, keep massive secrets from the public. Back in the day of the Manhattan Project, even though the people involved knew nothing, they were still told to say nothing about what they were doing. I guess they were instructed to say nothing about nothing. Well, redundancy is a good thing.
 Almost twenty years ago my good buddy Tut started telling me things that sounded absolutely batshit-crazy, and at first I was like "Uh-huh, man," but I was grinning inside. But then I quickly remembered my lifelong policy of looking into "crazy shit" whether I believed it or not; just for the fun of imagining crazy scenarios if nothing else. Plus Tut was as sane as it gets. I know him well, and while we drank a bit back in the day, he never took anything stronger than a Lortab. He tried reefer maybe three times and didn't like it, and he never once took any psychedelics or any other drugs whatsoever. He'd never had any mental issues at all, even simple depression, so I began looking into some of the things he said, and guess what...I learned some SHIT. Heavy, heavy shit. Shit that could be corroborated by MANY different and unrelated sources over time, and when I wasn't even looking for verification. There's only so many times you can ignore perfectly good facts coming at you, simply because you don't THINK it's true.
 When you figure in things like miniaturization, computer power doubling every so often and such, even if technology is only a few years ahead of what we know it'd probably be mind-boggling. A decade ahead? I doubt we'd recognize the place. Remember, it's an exponential deal. Fifty years ahead? Forget it. That'd be Science Fucking Fiction. I lean toward "I don't know 'cause I wasn't there," but I'm with the camp that thinks that certain technologies go way far back, especially when I look at some of the ancient structures and ponder how they were built by any means. As the son and former draftsman of an Architect I know a bit about construction and what it takes to build a big-ass thing. Those ancient structures don't fit into the category of "easily explainable."
 If you watch these shows like Nascent Aliens on the History channel or YouTube docs or read articles about these massive structures with 100-ton blocks that we can't even lift today, or blocks that are "cut" (especially inward cuts) with so much precision, and repeated over and over to the point that it seems that the rock was actually vitrified, or melted, and cast in place like plaster, you have to wonder WTF. Stuff like that gets my attention. Interestingly the "H-blocks" found at Puma Punku are a mystery in themselves, again appearing to have been liquefied and cast in molds, and featuring such ultra-precise inward cuts that they say it would take hours with the finest cutting Lasers we have today just to make one block.
 The kicker is that they formerly thought that they were all the same, but fairly recently they measured the blocks more closely and found that they were almost all slightly different. That's hard to believe. They were made to be assembled in a specific order, and I'm pretty sure they were able to run a computer program like CadCam or whatever and reconstruct a virtual image of at least part of the intended structure, but I could be wrong on that. Why construction was stopped is unknown but from the rubble and broken blocks the best guess is an earthquake or some other major catastrophe.
 Well it looks like I went off on just a bit of a tangent, along with my usual science lesson/rant, but that's what I do. Even considering how far ahead technology may be I doubt I could've imagined a Laser that eats light. I'll be looking into what they're willing to divulge, and it should be pretty damn interesting. I'm guessing it's still on a small scale and it can only neutralize a tiny amount of light; maybe even in the single photon range, but I don't know for sure. I wonder how far they could scale it up. Could they ever make it big enough to make the Sun go dark? It's doubtful but you never know. We'd have a dark star. Bowie'd be proud.

Jobs I Wish I Had Update

Not long after the yellow-vest protests began in France, I said I wished I had a factory that made yellow vests, since everybody and their mom had bought one. I was only half-joking. I might have known that just like any fashion trend it would take off like a rocket, and there'd be lots of other vesters jumping on the bandwagon and pretty soon we'd be seeing vests in every color of the rainbow and then some. Now the pink vests have hit the scene and I'm sure others are planned. These look pretty fancy, and they sure are pink. Speaking of rainbows, rainbow vests are surely right around the corner, if they're not already here.
 In no time at all vests will become the hottest new fashion trend. I guarantee it. Fashion designers will jump all over it. There'll be vests for daytime and vests for evening. Vests for senior proms. Vests for Casual Friday. Vests to wear with a bow tie. Team-color vests for sporting events. Smoking vests. After-dinner vests. Logo vests that support every cause on the planet. Holy sh*t. Tie-dye vests. Drug-rep vests. Velvet vests. I'd have one of those. Camo vests. Oh, wait...they already have those. Goth vests. Kid's vests. Gucci vests. Aerosmith vests. "Save the Vests" vests. There'll be vests for about every damn thing under the Sun.
 I really want to open a vest company. It's the future, at least until it goes out of style. There are millions to be made on one single product. Inventory costs would be so low it'd be ridiculous. You might have to pay some licensing fees, but who cares? It'd goose you up to a way higher tax bracket. You can bet your ass my company would be gender-EVERYTHING. I'd take their money a hell of a lot quicker than I would LOTS of other people's. I want to start the Acme Vest Company. Tomorrow. And I'm not kidding. Any backers?

Walk Weirdly and Carry a Big Stick/Facing Your Fears

I've been wanting to blog about this odd fuck who lives in my apartment complex for a while now, but weird shit keeps happening so I've put it off. Maybe after what happened last night things will settle down. I'll start out out of chronological order.
 A couple of weeks ago I'd stayed up late playing drums and about 5am or so my dog needed to take me for a walk. It's about 1.2 miles round-trip but we hadn't made it halfway when I saw a guy about a hundred yards away just standing there. At first I thought maybe he was walking his dog too and it was doing its business, but then I noticed there was no dog. He did have a rather large stick though. He stood still for a couple of minutes and I figured he was high on something.
 Then he started flopping down on the hoods of cars and sort of rolling around on them. Then I knew he was high. He was rolling around and lying on the ground and acting like someone who was totally out of it. It was really cold that night but all he had on was a t-shirt and a thin jacket. I was guessing he was so fried he couldn't feel the cold. My dog stopped in his tracks and didn't make a sound. That's really rare for him and when he does that I know something's up. We both stood there watching this clown, and I was about to call the cops. Not only was he ill-dressed for the weather but there was no telling what he might do. I thought maybe he was going to smash a window with his stick to steal something or climb in and crash out. Finally my dog barked.
 He looked up and saw us. He started muttering some shit and started slowly walking toward us. I was a bit concerned but he was moving our way so slowly that I knew I could outrun him. He was dragging one foot and walking exactly like something out of a Zombie movie. Creepy? Hell, yeah. He was still a couple of blocks away but he was totally zeroed in on us and headed our way. "Fuck it...I'm calling the cops" I decided. "911...what's your emergency?" said the voice on the phone. I told her what was going on and she said she'd send a unit right away. "Can you still see him, sir?" I said yes. "What's he doing?" she asked. I told him he was muttering and cursing and slowly walking toward me. "Don't put yourself in any danger" she said, "but if you can, keep an eye on him. An officer will be there any minute. Stay on the line if you can." "Okay, thanks" I said.
 For the next few minutes I watched him slowly walking toward us as I was describing the action to the 911 operator. It was surreal and I could tell it sounded weird even to a jaded 911 operator. "Is he still coming toward you?" "Yes, ma'am." I wonder what his story is" she said. "Id like to know too" I replied. One of the neighbor kids came out to leave for work. She speaks broken English but I was able to make her understand that there was a bad man nearby, so she asked if I'd walk her to her car. I told the operator what was going on and she said "Good for you, sir." "Thanks." The girl saw him and told me that he lived here and that he "likes to scare people." "Okay, thanks. 'Bye." "Fuck that asshole" I thought. "That isn't cool. I'm glad I called 911."
 He got to within maybe 50' of me and stopped; still staring me in the eye. He picked up his stick and held it over his head. I figured it'd be a good time to retreat a bit and take my dog inside. I slowly crept back out and saw him slowly walking away and muttering and cursing to himself. He went behind some bushes just as the cops arrived. I told them the story and that I'd just found out that he probably lived there. I said I didn't want to get him in any trouble but he was obviously out of it and possibly dangerous. He said he'd question him so I went in for the night. Seeing some creepy fuck walking toward you like a Zombie while talking to 911 was plenty of adventure for one early morn'.
 If I hadn't been so initially weirded-out I might have connected the stick to several months earlier when I'd seen a dude practicing Aikido in the parking lot, but my brain was using most of its CPU capacity going "WTF...WTF..." I'd briefly spoken to him, and I gathered he wasn't the friendly type. Fair enough, but after the Zombie incident I figured he was half out of his tree. A week or two after I first met him I passed him again. I was at least 75' away but he said "You better keep that dog away from me." I thought he was kidding and started laughing. "I mean it!" he said. "You keep him away from me!" "You're the one with the stick" I said. I figured that besides the martial arts factor he was just a garden-variety asshole and I'd best steer clear of him. He seemed to be at least half a bubble short of level.
 Last night I was walking around 11pm and he passed us on his bike. It had funky flashing lights on it and he was blasting some good ol' Classic Rock on his little radio. Sure enough he had his stick with him. Somehow he managed to balance it, which probably wasn't easy considering it was about 7' long. I said "Hey, man" as he passed by. He grunted something back and I just grinned. He stopped for several minutes to poke at half a brick lying in the road and I stopped to watch. Who the fuck pokes at half a brick for two minutes? Finally he rode on. He had a bright flashlight and he was shining it up into the trees. What he was looking for I have no idear.
 A few minutes later he rode slowly past us again, only this time he was cursing me and the dog. "What's your problem?" I asked. "YOU'RE my problem" he replied, "and your little dog too." My little dog too? Something told me we weren't in Kansas any more. "HUH?" I said. "I don't even know you. And what did my dog do? He's friendly." He just kept glaring at me and cursing. I thought maybe he was mad because I'd called the cops on him but he was so seriously baked that night I doubt he knew it was me. "Have a nice evening" I said. "Fuck you" he replied. Something was amiss. About ten minutes later we were nearly back. He was sitting on his bike with his stick; almost as if he was waiting for us. He let go with another tirade of expletives, so I said "Hey, you got something to say to me, buddy?" "You put that dog up and I'll say something to you" he replied. "He'd never hurt another living soul, unless they tried something stupid" I said. I thought it best to leave well-enough alone and went on in.
 It was really bugging me though, and after a minute or two I decided to go see if he was still outside and he was. I was hesitant because I knew the guy wasn't all there, not to mention the big-ass stick. I think the word "Aikido" means "big whoopass" in Japanese. But I decided that I had to at least try to figure the shit out because it could escalate and I didn't want any trouble. I was unarmed. I walked to within a few feet of him and stopped. "Okay, dog's up. You wanna talk?" At first he just started cursing but I said "Whoa, hold on, man. If you have something to say to me say it, but if you can't be civil then please shut the fuck up. I don't want any trouble and I don't have time for bullshit."
 Finally he started telling me some bizarre story but he was talking so fast, plus he was a little buzzed, so I couldn't understand him. "Slow down, please. I can't understand you." He cursed me again but he told the story slowly. He said that a couple weeks earlier he'd pulled his Achilles tendon, and that I'd supposedly watched him crawl back home for 45 minutes without helping. "HUH? No no no...you've got the wrong guy." "I KNOW it was you" he replied. "Dude, I'd never do anything like that. It wasn't me." "I KNOW it was you and I KNOW it was your dog too." "Nope" I said. "It was neither of us." "Yes it was. You were in a red van, and no other dog bays like yours." "There are other Beagles here, man. I've seen them."
 I went on to tell him that I didn't own a red van and that I'd never watch another man or beast suffer if I could help it, and he could believe me or not. I think it did the trick because he finally apologized. "It's all good" I said. "I'm just glad we got it straightened out." I walked over and he shook my hand. Whew. I hope that's the end of it. You never know...we might just end up being friends. It's happened before. Peace.