Thursday, December 29, 2016
Thursday, December 22, 2016
Tuesday, December 20, 2016
all that was is now again but it is a lil different
http://littlegirlandfatman.blogspot.com/2016/12/a-new-beginning.html
Wednesday, November 16, 2016
A True Success…
It all went fubar… just like that. I was in control. I was constant and steady,
and like a flip of a switch the world turned upside down and before I could
even say my name, the black was descending on me faster than a blink of my
eye. That is what living with the black
dread is like. That is what can happen
in a blink of an eye, the read of an email, the call of a phone, the wind
changing from south to north, the sun rising or setting. I can’t tell when it is going to happen. I can’t tell why it is going to happen. I can
only tell you that it can happen, normal one minute, the next a train wreck of
anger and sorrow. The worst is I can’t
hide it from the world. I just can’t. My
emotions are worn on my sleeves.
Whatever is happening on the inside is the duplicate on the
outside. I have not poker face. People can read my body language from across
the state; they can feel my vibe across the Ethereal Plane. It is as it has always been my whole life,
once this happens people assume they know why.
That my reasons are as transparent as my state of being and this is not always
the case. I also know because I radiate
this blackness and poisoning of my sole that it is best to remove myself from
any situation to go away and sit alone and let the black pass as it always does. However, sometimes there are
obligations. Sometimes you have to be
somewhere at some time, but is being there better than not being there when you
have no control over your state of being?
I don’t know. I really don’t. I know that as soon as I possibly could I
made a break for the exit and to my car. I drove home; it was a short drive,
which was awesome. I was greeted by
Shiner who is always so happy I am home.
She makes me feel so loved. I took her outside. I enjoyed the smell of the rain that had just
fallen. She did her business. I took in the back yard and the darkness of night. I went inside. I turned on the Spartans, I am Izzo fan after
and this mainly b/c the Boy is one. I
went to the fridge; I warmed up the chili I had made over the weekend. I measured ¼ cup of sharp shredded
Tillamook. Love thy Loaf as they
say. Counted out 12 saltines and logged
my points. I sat down took a bite, set
the spoon down, had a drink, so on and so forth. I logged into the laptop and I searched for
theater style home seating. Which is way
too expensive to get but is nice to look at all the same and let the feeling of
Ka-Mai just fade away. I answered some
texts from some concerned friends. I
watched basketball and searched for seats.
I got a call from the Beav and I helped him with a revenue
questions. Good, I will miss 97-2 it
really is the one thing in life I had a firm mastery of. Got a text from Sunny d and he said he was
coming for a visit, wanted to finally see the new place, which I knew what he
wanted, he wanted to check on me. It is
great to have friends. It really
is. He stopped over. I gave him the tour. We held long palaver. I won’t lie as he was here my mind shifted
towards the stuff. Towards what used to
be comfort. Maybe a pint of B&J’s or
a bag of chips, but I pushed these away and focused on the palaver at
hand. Then my buddy said it was time to
go home and I understood this b/c I thought it was almost time to go to
bed. He stepped out of the door and I
can’t remember exactly what he said but it was something to the extent of don’t
got to McDonald’s and I smiled and said I won’t. To be honest to the point I hadn’t really
thought about it. I told him I had eaten
what I cooked and counted my points and that I was good to go. He said he half expected to find me 5 big
macs in and I was like no, not this time.
Not this time. He left. I went to
the fridge and I got out my cut up melon.
I ate it. I watched Parks and
Rec. I took the puppy to the potty and
we went to bed and this a.m. I got up, I made coffee, I cooked my breakfast and
I sat and I ate it while talking to the dog.
I waited for the plumber to come, then the lawn guy came and I worked
and now on my lunch break I scribe. I
won’t over think what it means other than to say after losing in the afternoon,
I ended up winning the night and the day.
Things to take away set up an appointment with the Doctor. I need to reprogram my brain and find the silver
linings in things, I need to be able to focus on the positive and put away the
black. I know I have a lot of work to
do. Rome wasn’t built in a day and I won’t
overcome my demons in one night.
However, I think we have progress and with progress there is hope and
like always I am way too stupid to lie down and quit, so I will just keep getting
up and trying it again and again until I get where I need to go.
Monday, November 14, 2016
A long time in the making...
For the longest time I have had this vision in my head about what normal people do each morning before they go to work. I have this insane sitcom like vision in my head that the family all sits down around a breakfast table and has time to read the morning paper, eat breakfast, walk the dog, etc... etc... However, for the last 17 years I have been waiting to have one of these normal mornings. One in which I didn't sleep till the very last minute. One where I wasn't running out the door with my oh shit face on, saying if I don't speed I am gonna be late again. Part of me thinks the sitcom breakfast is a figment of my imagination. I mean after all i don't recall even having it growing up. Now I think the chaos that took place when their were four children growing up together with very distinct schedules somehow tarnished this. See how we all had our own agenda, whether is sports related, school related, or just plane loving to sleep and not caring if I ate breakfast or not and waiting to the last possible moment to jump in the shower and then pull on some sweat pants and head to school. Yes, my senior of high school yes I went all George Costanza and gave up and wore sweat gear to school for like 40 some straight days. Man, I loved me some sweat gear. I had an all purple sweat gear outfit and I rolled around looking at all Grimace and I was proud of that.
I digress of course. That is just what I seem to do these days. Go down a never ending path to now where. This morning I had what I think was as close as I might ever come to the sitcom breakfast. Mainly, because I got up and cooked breakfast and sat down and ate it looking at a picture my buddy the Beav hung for me this weekend. I also walked the dog and took her out to potty. I even had time to clean up after myself once I was done cooking. OK, so that is a stretch I wiped up the counter and put the pans in the sink. Better than not doing anything with them I guess.
I think the point of all this nonsensical rant is that I had time to make breakfast this a.m. and then drive into the office. My breakfast was about 25% of my intake for the day. So that over three meals and snack is not to shabby. I was at work right at 9, and it only took me 12 minutes to get here. There was no stress. I was not rushed. I was well pretty relaxed and not worried about the commute. That was a good thing. A real good thing, or so i think! Also spent time yesterday cooking. Made me some chili and pulled pork. So the new week is off to a good start. Or it was until I bit into one of my sandwiches and sprayed my self with egg yolk. Shiner got a kick out of that trying to clean the mess off me b/c I did the eggs over easy which I have become pretty good at and without thinking i just bit in and explosion and egg every where.
Shiner came to visit for a week. I think she is adapting to the new place. However, she scared the living shit out of me last night. When I took her out back to make pp at 2 a.m. and the second she stepped out the back door she growled and all the hair on her back stood up. I was like oh know there is a fucking boogen out their. She then proceeded to go over and make potty and come back in. I locked up quickly and turned the alarm back on. However, when we got up this a.m. for the morning meal I saw what she was freaking about. There was not one but two cats in my back yard this a.m. and she all but begged me to let her out to get them. I did not... b/c first i think the cats would totally kick Shiner's but! And in off chance she got one of them, I didn't want cat scattered across my back yard.
Shiner on her first visit to Livermore:
Tuesday, November 1, 2016
Billy b looks at 41...
Billy b looks at 41…
I don’t know where forty went. It was a blink of the eye. It was here then it was gone. I can’t say forty was bad. However, I can’t really say it was good
either. Forty was just forty. I failed to have that life altering aha
moment. You know the magic movie moment
when you are faced with the opportunity to be great and you rallied by those
around you and stand up and do just that “be great”! I also think I realized that moment is never
going to come. The light switch will
never just turn one day and I will wake up and not want to eat three double
cheeseburgers. That you are going to
wake up every day and feel great about yourself and what you are doing with
your life. Those things just don’t
happen. They take work. The road ahead of me to get back to where I was
just 3 years ago is long and very hard.
The road ahead that appears less and less likely. However, I don’t know how to quit. It doesn’t matter how many times I fall down,
I get back. It doesn’t matter how many
attempts I make and get ignored, or go down in flames, I just keep making
them. I am if nothing else resilient in
my pursuit of what I want and my dreams.
In two days I make a daring move
that I truly do believe will star to give me my life back. It is just the first step in a much longer
road. On Thursday a new journey begins
as I pack my house in San Jose, a place that I thought I would stay at for a
long time, and move to the Tri-Valley.
My birthday gift to myself today is going to see my house completely
painted and floored for the first time.
That is a pretty good gift. Then
tomorrow it will be cleaned and Thursday afternoon I will be in and that is
pretty exciting! So a new house equal a new
life? Maybe? I think the one thing I have to keep focusing
on in my 41st year is learning life isn’t all or nothing. So a
new life is probably a bit of an overstatement.
I am just going to make the life I have even better. The road I travel is long, some of it will be
dark but much more of it will be light. Each
day I will try to just get a little bit better than before. I know a few things. 41will be greater than 40. Less time in the car because my home is
closer means more time for my life. So,
in year 41 the revolution will continue.
Tweaks will be made. Movement
will happen more and more often. A
return to the pool and masters swim is on the horizon. Also we can’t forget about puppy. There will be a puppy before the end of
2016. That much I have decided. A new big house, needs a new friend and roomie. I think it will be very good for me to have
to take care of something more than myself.
Plus two walks a day won’t kill me.
Or god let’s hope I haven’t fallen that far just yet. No more looking back, only looking ahead to
the New Year! The 41st. I got a feeling that it is going to be a
great year and I am so very excited about that!
Tuesday, July 12, 2016
Page 186, Page 187, Page 188, Page 189, Page 190, Page 191, Page 192, Page 193 and Page 194
Book of 2016
- Page 186 -
- Page 187 -
- Page 188 -
- Page 189 -
- Page 190 -
- Page 191 -
- Page 192 -
- Page 193 -
- Page 194 -
- Page 194 -
Book
II
Things
That Go Bump in the Night
Chapter
1 – Deputy Mayfield
III
He came out of his paralyses and
tried to pick up the mic on his CB but he couldn’t because he still held the
folded over girly magazine in his right hand.
He looked at it and it said Kendra pushed upwards… Kendra? He thought?
Wasn’t it Lana? Or had his mind just wondered back to the little tramp
from the gas station. He knew the little slut wanted him. He could tell by how she acted. He flipped the magazine into the passenger
seat right next to his Mounty hat, he chuckled, or was that Mount-Me hat. Isn’t that what Cain’s son had said in that
football movie, nice Mount-Me hat. He
always got a kick out of that.
KSSHHHHSSSSSHHH KSSHHHHSSSSSHHH KSSHHHHSSSSSHHH
“Deputy Mayfield, Deputy Mayfield,
do you copy?”
Now with his hand free of
perversion he could reach down and grab the mic and return the call.
“This is Mayfield. Over?”
“I have a Code 2 and need you to
respond.”
“I was getting ready to take a Code
7, can you get another cover?” This was
a lie, he had already taken his lunch break, but what this asshole at
dispatched didn’t know, wouldn’t kill him.
“Negative Mayfield, this Code 2
needs to be looked into right away, your Code 7 has to wait, Big Joe’s orders. There
has been a nose complaint out at Hull and with the activity out there we need
the Code 2, over.”
He put his head back and let out a
long breath. His reading would have to
be put on hold for now. Fucking Hull
Cemetery and those creepy grave robbing kids.
It was Ransom and big Joe’s gig, but the boss was the boss after all and
with his alimony and the future call of his pension he didn’t want to fuck this
job up anymore. He made one last ditch
effort to through the green dicked kid at dispatch off. It wasn’t professional but if he could get
out of a run to the cemetery who cared about a little professionalism on the
mic.
“Isn’t that part of Ransom’s
case? Why don’t you call him he lives
for this type of shit!” It was true Kody
Ransom that paranoid uppity fuck lived for this type of shit. Mr. Big Time FBI law man coming home to
police the cornfields. He was an odd
duck. Never drank with the boys. He would hang out with LJ and that scrawny
corner but he acted like he was to good for the rest of force. Plus he was always talking to the Boss. Always, fucking kiss ass.
“Negative Mayfield, he was on for
48 plus, Big Joe said not to disturb him, over.”
Fuck that, I am not going to get
involved in the pretty fucks case, he thought to himself. That is the last
thing in the world Kyle Mayfield wants is to have anything to do with the crown
prince of the department. “Call him, he
is probably at home waiting for the call anyway. We know the pretty fucker doesn’t have
life. Other than going to dinner at the
bosses house, or hanging out with his buddy from the morgue.”
“Deputy Mayfield, do I have to file
a 1222 or are you going to answer this Code to at Hull?” And there it was. The little green dicked prick at dispatch,
playing the only card he could.
Threatening a write-up. Arrogant
little prick had already written him up twice.
He wasn’t afraid to do it and Mayfield knew it. He definitely didn’t want that, not over a
little stop over and finding some kids fucking with some bones. He can’t afford
that. He isn’t rich like the Ransom
fuck. He doesn’t have Daddy’s money to
fall back on, if being a cop doesn’t work out.
Plus, he likes his job. Sure he
gets the late shift four nights a week, but he always has three days off to
fish and drink beer with the boys. Plus
there are perks to being a Sheriff in this fucking town. The free magazine next to him is a testament
to that. Not to mention some other perks
he gets. This town seems to love its
Sheriff department and… even fear it?
“Code 33, on the move.”
“Report when Code 11.” Fuck you green dick her thinks to this, you
are a fucking amateur! The snot nose
little punk would have filled out the 1222.
He knew it. The kid didn’t
appreciate the good life he had working only four days a week. The kid wanted to get on the day shift, even wanted
to get out from behind the desk and start doing real police work as he called
it.
Mayfield laughed, what a fucking
idiot he thought to himself. What he was
doing out here was police work in Wander, In.
You bided your time. You tried to
find good places to sleep on the road.
You pulled over your quota of speeders, no more no less. Occasionally, you had to a domestic
disturbance, but those were usually fun.
This greened dicked fucker had spent too much time listening to Ransom
war stories probably. Did Ransom tell
war stories? Who fuck knew, uppity prick
probably didn’t.
He pulled his car back onto the
road still pissed off he’d wasted his hard-on.
He would have to take care of that later. Looking at his watch and seeing that it was
3:45 a.m. and knowing he would be off soon, he would take care of it not much
later.
He took dead man’s curve
slowly. He had pulled to many piles of
mangled meat off this road not to respect the awesomeness of the blind
corner. When he pulled through on the
other side heading for Hull he found himself muttering “Green Dick fucking kiss
ass punk!” He shook his head and stared
into the black.
Had he ever been as eager as that
Greenie? Was he like that at the
start? Before he figured out that it
really didn’t matter what the law was?
Was he? He couldn’t
remember. It has been some twenty years
ago.
The Greenie would learn what he had
learned. That the law itself and rules
don’t mean shit all that mattered was who you knew and what you could do for
them. He had the fortune of seeing that
very early on. It was his during the
first year of his time of paroling the back roads of Wander.
Hadn’t he been the first responder
to the Gas and Go that Halloween? Yes,
yes he had been. What he saw was a show
of brutality and force that he had rarely seen except in the cases of the
meth-heads and people strung out on PCP.
At least, the people he caught going nuts on angle dust or meth paid for
their sins. However, when the person you
stop from slamming a football players head into a door, is a Ransom, they may
or may not have gotten grounded because they sure, as shit didn’t get a trip to
the lock up, prosecuted, or even cuffed.
Let’s just be 100% clear he said as he watched the cornfields pass on
his left. They didn’t even get written
up.
He had forty pounds and 2 inches on
Kody Ransom. However, that night, the
night he won’t forget not because he lost his delusion they he could make a
difference. No he would never forget
that night because he had never seen so much hate or anger in anyone. When he had grabbed the kid and tried to make
him stop slamming his fist into the others head, he was thrown away, and he
fell forcefully to the ground.
As he started to get up he saw Big
Joe running passed him and yelling orders to him “Get the Rose boy, get the
Rose by, I have Kody. That is what he
called him Kody, not Ransom. Was that
when he realized how incestuous the relationships were? Maybe?
Big Joe had his billy club out and
he did she him wrap it around Ransom’s chest and use all his strengthen to pull
the kid back. He was up now though and
was running to Rose.
He reached out and placed a hand on
Rose’s shoulder. Rose looked up and
grinned at him. “Problem Officer?” He
said. Then he stood up and faced him and
held his hands out to be cuffed. He
grabbed his right arm and turned it behind his back and then reached around and
grabbed his left and pulled it back.
He turned and faced where Big Joe
was sub-doing the Ransom kid. As he was
pulling up Ransom, Mayfield got a glimpse into Ransom’s eyes and his blood
instantly froze. He kept thinking to
himself cuff him Big Joe, cuff that crazy fucker. If he gets loose that thing will kill me. It
could have happened too because what burned into those eyes was not the
embodiment of fear and anger that he had seen on a few perps facing when they
figured out they were getting arrested.
Oh, no it was not. It wasn’t
because those were not human eyes but the eyes of some feral beast that was backed
into a corner and would fight out of it or die trying.
He shook his head and watched more
corn pass. He would be at Hull soon
enough. However, when you were in the
middle of cornfields there really weren’t many things to mark the way.
The night was darker than
black. It was always darkest before dawn. As someone who rode out most nights he knew
that better than most. Had it been 20
years since that night? He couldn’t
really remember. Time has a funny way of passing, especially in Wander.
He knew two things. First, that was the first time he saw
insanity in the face of a man. Two, that
there was no justice in the world.
Ransom and Rose had broken jaws,
noses, and knocked out teeth. One boy was
kept in a coma for a week, after swelling went down he went on to have a
decorated career but still, what if he hadn’t? However, there were not
cuffs. There was no trial. There was no write up about the fight in the
paper. The girl behind the counter must
have turned off the cameras even though she swore she didn’t because there was
not tape.
He had started to cuff the Rose
boy. He remembered because he was
telling the quarterback punk that he could kiss his next start good bye because
he would be in juvy.
“Nah, no cuffs.” Big Joe told him.
“Set him down over here next to Kody. We
don’t know what happened here.”
Kyle knew what happened here. These two boys beat the shit out of those
three boys and it didn’t matter what happened.
You pulled up on an assault and battery; you cuffed the people doing the
beating and took them in for questioning.
If you got the wrong people you fixed that later.
He looked again to Big Joe and he
saw there was not arguing. His eyes said
it all. Do as you are told Dickweed and
don’t give me any shit.
He couldn’t remember when he saw
the prosecutor’s son and Big Joe’s son.
When he did things started to make a little bit more sense. He was going to cover for his kid’s pals and
do the prosecutor a solid as well. Somehow this would all end up being the guys
who were assaulted faults. They would take the fall.
He was both right and wrong on that
account. It is not like there were
rumors about payouts or anything like that.
No one showed up with new cars or new homes. New jobs were received for the kids and for
the parents over the next several months.
Records seemed to be cleaned up.
All three boys that had received a beating of a lifetime ended up
leaving Wander within a year of that Halloween and the immediate families as
well all with big hoopla made of there going because they were all living the American
Dream and moving on up. That is when he
knew that the prosecutor and Big Joe were on the take and that is when he
started his little taking.
He remembered one time asking Arnie
Dagget, a hardnosed long time Sheriff who had been his trainer when he started.
They had spent six months on the job together every day almost. They had become what Mayfield would have liked
to call friends.
Then there was the time that they
had gotten the call about the fire out on 59 and the two had raced there. Dagget told Mayfield to wait out side he was
going to go in and make sure there was no one stuck in there. Mayfield told him to wait for back up, but
Dagget said “No time son, no time.”
Mayfield waited for what seemed to
be an eternity and until he heard something come crashing down and then
followed his hardnosed partner into the burning house. A cross beam had fallen and landed on Dagget
and if he hadn’t gone in after him the only death in that fire.
With that he thought he could have
a little Palaver with Arnie and ask him about Big Joe and just what was Doc
Ransom into. When he did, he found out
just how strong is old partner was. He
was thrown into a locker and Arnie’s fist slammed into the one next to it.
“Listen to me you fucking
cocksucker. Big Joe is a goddamned
saint. If you ever suggest he is on the take again, I will take my revolver out
and shot you in your fucking face. You
got that. As for Doc Ransom, don’t worry
about it. That aint for dumb fucks like
you, he has helped this town more than you will ever know. Big Joe on the take, you dumb, dumb fuck. You know how many times he has saved my
ass. Don’t worry about what happened
with them kids. Those college kids
shouldn’t have tried to pick on some high school kids you dumb fuck.”
Mayfield was stunned and
speechless. He thought but I saved your life.
I was there for you, but didn’t say it.
He didn’t know what to say. The only thing he knew was he never spoke to
Dagget or was even acknowledged him again.
Continued from:
The Guardian at the Gate
Book I
Wander IN
&
Book
II
Things
That Go Bump in the Night
Chapter
1 – Deputy Mayfield
I
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