CRIME, CRAIGSLIST and COSMIC JUSTICE

Got a bully in your life? A violent madman with zero self-control? Are you sick of it and need some peace and quiet? Here's a simple solution that won't cost a cent, and the police will never show up at your door and handcuff you.

Click on the garbage can for further instructions...and then get some peace and quiet. Yes, it's time to take out the trash.

Pssst...

The other day I finished the draft of a novella (a scrappy 30,000+ words). What's a novella? It's a novel with a low-calorie, lifestyle disorder (caffeine diet, insomnia, deranged daydreams), hence its svelte word count. A novella can be easily spotted on the street. A novel puts on a silky book jacket before stepping outdoors, whereas a novella sprints up the street wearing Speed-o swim trunks and sneakers.

My novella, a thriller, is loosely based on my short story, EXIT, which won the 2013 San Francisco Litquake/Booktrack "Halloween" short fiction contest. This time around, there's less humor than the Jurassic Jim Fleetwood books. But there's plenty of dark suspense. And, as always, the narrative is very offbeat.

What's it's about? Well, the story begins at a movie theater. And at this theater, you never go out...the way you come in.

The story is still untitled. For now, I'm swinging it through a round of edits, and hope to release it later this month. In the meantime, relax, go see a movie.

King Kong "Stands his Ground"

(self-defense tips from the righteous Master of Love)

"I don't need no gun. I got love  'n romance on my side." -- K. Kong

My piece on Mr. Kong's last hour, and righteous last stand, can be found HERE at ALL THINGS CRIME BLOG. This is "stand your ground" the way it was meant to be.

Mr. Kong swatting planes and singing the Drifters' "Up on the Roof"

"When this old world starts getting me down
And people are just too much for me to face
I climb way up to the top of the Empire State Building
And all my cares just drift right into space
.....Up on the rooooooooooooooofffff.....

Bermuda Triangle Behind GW Bridge Scandal?

The Bermuda Triangle is actually the Bermuda Trapezoid, defined by points in Bermuda, San Juan, Miami, and Fort Lee, New Jersey.

The Bermuda Trapezoid 
(U.S. Dept. of Paranormal Oceanography)

The Bermuda Trapezoid is infamous for "swallowing" cargo ships and airplanes. American sunbathers crossing the Atlantic on air mattresses are especially at risk. Recently, a Royal Caribbean ship cut short a 10-day cruise after 700 passengers and crew fell ill with vomiting and diarrhea. The captain admitted, "The ship passed near the edge of the Bermuda Trapezoid for five measly minutes—then the sh*t hit the fan. It was a gastrointestinal tsunami."

So last year the U.S. Navy put traffic cones on the Bermuda Trapezoid sea lanes for sailing safety. Their bright orange color ensured visibility, even at times of maximum distraction (e.g., Godzilla appears, flips your air mattress). If you cruised between the floating cones, you wouldn't vanish or time-travel to 2040.

So far, so good. But here the tale gets twisted. A trapezoid has two parallel sides, and here are two parallel stories. Ready?

On Dec. 5, 1945, a squadron of five U.S. Navy torpedo bombers disappeared during a routine training exercise. Sixty-eight years later, several hundred cones vanished from the choppy waters near the Bahamas. Coincidence?

September 9, 2013. Miami, Florida, 6:32 a.m.

Before losing radio contact off the coast of southern Florida, an airline pilot was reportedly heard saying: "Everything looks strange, even the ocean," and "We are entering white water, nothing seems right. Traffic…traffic cones have…invaded our air space…"

September 9, 2013. Fort Lee, New Jersey, 1:36 p.m.

Lewy Koogler, age 40, was sitting inside Fort Lee Cineplex, watching Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs 2. Brats jammed the matinee. Lewy, a lifelong fan of animated movies, sat alone in the dark amid flying candy and popcorn hail, spellbound by foodimals and cartoon violence. The spell popped when an orange traffic cone dropped through a time/space portal in the theater's roof, and landed on his lap. For a fuzzy moment, he saw a tall top hat for a Dr. Seuss cat. Lewy cried out, confused, clasping the cone as if he were under attack. Excited, he hyperventilated, his head thrown back and eyes rolling.

Amid the laughter of hundreds of children enraptured by Meatballs 2, an adult's strangled cry rose above the din.

Within seconds a beam of light blinded Lewy. A teen usher appeared, pointing his flashlight at a pop-eyed adult rubbing a traffic cone on his lap. The usher grimaced and turned away, whistled, his flashlight beam finding another usher at the top of the aisle.

Within minutes the Fort Lee Police arrived at the theatre.

The arresting officer scanned the crowd of kids, turned back to Lewy and said, "You towering turd of turpitude!"

The second officer hissed, "A registered cone offender. You total peesa sh*t!"

"Whuh?" Lewy said. "What'd I—"

"You're under arrest." Officer #1 whacked the road marker with his nightstick. "Lewd conduct with a sex toy."

Handcuffed, Lewy was whisked outside to a patrol car, and booted into the backseat.

On the drive to the Fort Lee Police Station, Officer #2 turned to his partner at the wheel. "Cuffing perverts gives me munchies. Let's get some donuts in Manhattan."

Soon they were midway on the George Washington Bridge, heading into Manhattan. Lewy was having a EMERGCON-level panic attack. "This...this can't be happening. Pull over, I gotta puke."

Officer #2 turned, shook his fist at Lewy. "You touch your cone…"

Then it happened. A squadron of five U.S. Navy torpedo bombers, circa 1945, suddenly appeared in thin air directly over the bridge.

Officer #1 knuckled the windshield. "Jumpin' Jesus!"

The bombers opened their hatches. Traffic cones rained from the sky like cluster bombs, landing upright in perfect rows on the GW Bridge.

The bombers whooshed into the clouds, time traveling to 2040 or beyond.

A moment later the squad car dematerialized—POOF!—and was never seen again.

Before losing radio contact from the bridge, Officer #2 was reportedly heard saying: "Everything looks strange…Godzilla is in the Hudson River...sex toys line the highway...We are entering a pointless traffic study…"

Today, ALL THINGS CRIME BLOG posted another of my tales of bad behavior. Truly bad behavior. It's called:

The Mega Mack-Daddy of Illegitimate Daddies

click HERE...and cringe

Frankenstein:
Sperm Donor Daredevil

New Year. New Book. Dirt Cheap. 

For 99 cents...you can slither through the sewer!

A nod to Victor Hugo, author of Les Misérables, and its famous sewer scene. Think of this collection of humor as...

Les Mousérables

"Honey, this ain't the Tunnel of Love. Whoa!"

S.E.W.E.R is an acronym for: 

S.....Stories
E.....Essays
W....Warnings
E.....Exposes

R.....Reports

This book spotlights sewer rats (and a few innocent bystanders).

pipe dream  noun
A goal, hope, ideal, or plan so fanciful that it is very unlikely to be realized.

sewer pipe dream  delusion
A goal, hope, ideal, or plan so utterly deranged that it should be equipped with a toilet handle. To activate plan, simply flush it into the sewer system.

Question: Are you a connoisseur of bad behavior? If so, rejoice.

When does one officially become a connoisseur of criminal conduct? On the day following the weary realization that you cannot stop, reduce, or even put a dent into the rising tide of bad behavior. It's a global pandemic, a meltdown of good manners. A tsunami of terrible tantrums. And the tidal wave is roaring toward you. You are a sentinel on civilization's shore, arms raised, stamping your feet in the sand and screaming, "Stop the shit--behave!" Alas. Here comes a thundering 900-foot wall of water exploding with sharks, sea snakes, piranhas, barracuda, torpedo rays and crocodiles. Good luck.

Surf's up!

Yesterday you were appalled. Today you applaud bad behavior. Insert the letter "u" into the word "appalled," twist it around, it spells "applaud." Coincidence? Think of it this way: "You" + "appalled" = "applaud." You see, you are so utterly appalled and exhausted, you surrendered, jettisoned your standards, and now applaud bad behavior.

Making the transition from "moralist" to "connoisseur of the unrefined arts" requires three easy steps. 

• surrender

• drop standards

• clap

Frankenstein: Sperm Donor Daredevil is the world's first digital s.e.w.e.r. Available as an e-book at Amazon. Just click on the word S.E.W.E.R.

This slim volume is a standing ovation to bad behavior. Contents include the godfather of bad behavior, an embittered Walmart greeter, Frankenstein (the mega Mack-Daddy), telephone terrorism, Patty Hearst and Carl Jung, astral plane abductions, toilet bowl boosters, a miniature World War III, and…the world's only singing & dancing bank bandits. 

Don't be appalled. Applaud!

Les Micérables

SEWER RAT CHAT

"Chucky, I got a great idea. Listen. We need a disguise. We dress up like hamsters...and then...you know...we get Popsicle sticks...and when some putz walks by the sewer, like...we pop through the manhole cover and threaten to give him a Popsicle beatdown unless he hands over the cheese. Shit, Chucky, it's airtight. Chucky, you listening? Look at me, Chucky, when I talk to you."

"Buzz off, Karl. I'm busy reading Tom Davidson's new book, 'Frankenstein: Sperm Donor Daredevil.' Wow. It's chock full of rats and ratty behavior. It's like...the Twilight Zone inside a sewer pipe. It reminds me of that French classic of gutter literature, 'Les Mousérables.' Remember? Gene the Gerbil stole a popcorn kernel in the city park that was meant for pigeons. The police chased him through the city's sewer system. 'Drop the popcorn,' the cops yelled, 'or we'll shoot!' Imagine being a starving gerbil, and swimming through a brown river of raw sewage while dodging bullets."

"Shut up, Chucky. Or I'll slap your lips off."

WORLD WAR 3

(beneath the Christmas tree)

the *adult* version of the children's Christmas story?

Below this post is the children's version of this story. If you haven't yet hit your tenth birthday, check out the kiddie version. Just page down once and you'll hit it. The link is located just below the picture of the Little Drummer Boy.

On the other hand...

Today the slightly grittier and more deranged version of the story appears on the criminally entertaining and eye-popping blog, ALL THINGS CRIME. If you are reading this post and are ten years old or older (don't lie), and have at least a diploma from fifth grade, then you're already sufficiently disillusioned by life, and can now handle the crappy side of reality. So, here's the link to the grown-up version. Buckle your seatbelt. Oh...and Merry Christmas!

SECRET LINK TO UNSPEAKABLE YULETIDE TERROR