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Showing posts from May, 2017

True Ghost Stories- The Sepulveda Ghost

It was Thanksgiving, as I rode home from my sisters house in San Fernando Valley. The streets at night in Los Angeles are normally pretty barren, but since it was a holiday weekend, I felt like I was peddling through a ghost town. I was twenty two at the time and sharing a one bedroom apartment in Van Nuys. My roommate was out of town, so I was preparing myself for a quiet night. No crazy girlfriends nor any of my alcoholic friends would be banging on my door tonight, so as I made my way down Sepulveda Blvd, a smile of relief spread across my face.

  When I finally reached my building though, this peace full night at the pad took a one eighty.

There was an older lady standing outside my building. She was alone and dressed in a fur coat with a matching hat. She looked out of place. I don't know if it was her apparel, or how she was just standing there staring off into space, but something was off. There was also a large stack of books and boxes with her, as if she was moving or s…

Beer Cans and Dog Hair

Our daily rituals involve picking up beer cans and dog hair....

Finishing off uneaten vegetables from sun bleached lawn chairs....

Bitching is so typical with retirement and un unused timeshares...

Decades of marriage habituals is like baking rice krispies squares...

It's fun in the start, but soon turns to boredom and tempers flared
But, no matter how bad it gets, I hope you know I always cared....

I can remember the day, when I heard you fart for the first time.

You were so embarrassed, and my bellowing laughter was probably out of line

But now, you have no problem with you ass saying hello and goodbye
And when I cover my nose and wipe the water from my eyes
I'm still amazed by the sound that's created from such a petite size
The years have passed us by, and things have begun to sag….
Our wrinkled faces now resemble crumbled grocery bags
Gravity has taken over, in all the important parts
Your boobs hang past your belly
While my balls droop out my shorts

But, if it was wrong getting marr…

Wise One of Japan (Chapter Three)

(Train Station intercom) Ladies and gentleman, please refrain from boarding the next oncoming train, because there will be a selection check for all arriving passengers. Please stay behind the yellow line until the selection check is completed. Thank you for your cooperation.

"Why are we stopping?" asked Mao.

"I don’t know. Are they checking ID’s today?" responded an old lady, that was sitting next to her on their commute.

"I heard they might be in Tokyo, but we are still two hours away.Why would they come all the way out here?" Mao said back in "I'm about to start panicking tone of voice."

The old lady turned to her and said, "Yea, that’s true. Their check points are only in the city. Maybe, there was an accident or something."

"Yea, maybe another salary man was having a bad day. Oh, okay, here we go. We are moving again. That scared me a little bit."

"Yea, me too. Ever since my friends daughter was taken away.I have…

Billy the Thief

This is a story about a thief named Billy....
That gave grief to the TL peeps
by making every room chilly
He was a downer, that would steal the shoes off your feet, and then act willy nilly....
And this is why the towns people
planned for his death lilly....

He got his first taste, at the local liquor store,when he was eight, craving for entertainment....

Stealing, while his friends
cheered with amazement
And then enjoying the aftermath booty of fruity sugar snacks
Englazed from front to back, while their parents slept off their grave shift....

He liked to shop for clothes at the dime store
With his crack head street whore....

And when the staff were not looking
They'd stuff their pockets to the galore
Until stolen trinkets over flowed
And fell to the floor....
Security always considered watching them a chore
When she died, he swore that he wouldn't live this lifestyle anymore
But an old dogs learning curve is like paddling without any oars

He liked pressed shirts tucked inside his tight pant…

Flying Mice and Glowing Orbs

As he lied in bed, with his right leg in the air, a childhood memory surfaced.

   He was seven years old at his home in California. It was the beginning of summer, and he had just returned from his towns annual Flower Festival. He was grinning ear to ear with excitement because he had been waiting for this day to arrive for at least three months, and for a child, three months  can seem like a decade, if not more.

  Other than today’s agenda for him, this festival was the only thing to look forward to, if you were a kid in this sleepy town. It had stuff for the grownups to do, which was pretty much escaping your reality at the local bar, but if you were under the age of puberty, you had to rely on your imagination for entertainment, especially if you were the loner type.

  He wasn’t an outcast or anything. He played with the neighborhood kids, but when it came to fun, or what he considered “real fun” he preferred his own company. He figured out that it was best not to invite any one …

Holding the Title

Brian couldn’t smile anymore.

  Well, let me rephrase that, he could smile, but only during the times he was absent from his companies office. He had been employed by Sheffield and Son ten years prior, and had managed to climb to super star status as lead sales man, but lately, things felt…well…dead. He was bored with his job. And to make it even worse, the new batch of office folk, got under his skin. He didn’t really know why these people annoyed him so much. It could have been that he was over a decade their senior, or maybe because they were just a bunch of paled faced, pencil pushing douche bags, that only trash talked about whom ever wasn’t in front of their computer that day.

More than likely it was both…

And on top of that, he knew his days of glory were eventually going to come to an end.

There would be a new hero, and what he saw these days, he wasn’t impressed. He couldn’t come to grips with being replaced with this new generation. Someone that was just mediocre. Someone that…

Montana Chickens

She seemed like a nice old lady...

Late, into her eighties...
With a smile that would light up the sky

I was eight years old...
Stepping out of our vacation motor home

Wiping away the sleep from my eyes....

Livingston, Montana...
Is where my crazy family had landed
Stiff and tired from a three day ride....

She greeted us from the porch....
White and gangly like a stork
Then hugged my mother with a loving pride...

I looked at my surroundings....
The muddy ground....
And the sound of the Yellowstone River pounding, near by....

The old Conway farm, was worn down
And uncharmed....
But, had a beauty that would make you cry.....

After a couple of minutes talking...
The mother/daughter team came a walking
And called me over, to their side....

Grandma had a problem....

Ghost Story- The Mill Valley Santa

I have enough material to entertain any campfire audience through out the night, when it comes to ghost stories. My trunk is full of them. And when I’m into story four or five, I myself start to believe I’m full of shit, but believe me, these stories are real.
This one is about the time I came face to face with a full apparition.

I was working for a produce company in San Francisco, delivering organic fruit and vegatables to the well off residing in the Bay Area. Part of my route was in Mill Valley, which is located on the otherside of the Golden Gate bridge. If you can imagine a bunch of rich hippie types living in the woods, you can get the gist in what this place looks resembles.
Anyway, it was my first week on the job, so the driver that was leaving was riding shotgun, while directing me through out the day. We pulled up to this house, which had a ridiculously long drive way. So there I was, humping this box of apples and what not to this monster house, and when I entered the front…