Larry da Junkman

An I wanna liquify
Everybody gone dry
Or plug into aerials
That poke up in the sky
Or burn down suburbs
With half closed eyes
You don’t succeed
If you don’t try
- Clash City Rockers
The Clash

7-7-77.
I was 17 and looking for a place to burn. Cause I was on fire. I was angry and didn’t know it. I had a mean streak. It had a skunk like quality to my meaness.  I could stink up a room. I could make regular people upset, but my friends thought I was funny… or I thought they thought I was funny. I don’t know. Maybe we were all stuck together because we grew up together and we were stuck…
Stuck in the back of the refridgerator, in a tupperware container. Fuck. we were like spoiled food in the back of the refridgerator that you forget about, and then when you remember, you don’t want to deal with that rot. Yeah, we were rot. 17 year old rot in 1977. Stuck in our own stink.

We loved our rot. we loved our stink… Me, Bingo, Evil Eyes Pinky, the Gooseman, Joey Bonanza, and about fifty kids on the park in Flushing. Drinking rot gut. We ruled the streets at night. We put the plastic people back in their homes with the doors locked tight at night. We were ghouls running the wax museum and it was melting. If you looked through the windows of homes, we would see skeletial bones made of gelatin and everybody was wobbling when we were around. Hey, Gelatin… What’s shaking…
And we were around, every night except when we were celebrating New Year’s Eve. We celebrated New Year’s Eve every Friday night at Gooseman’s apartment. He was 17 and living on his own. Shit apartment off of Northern Boulevard in factory land in Flushing. We could make noise and we did. We put on party hats and forgot about going home.
The lights were dim and we were dimwits…
We were emerging…. We were using up a lot of juice and burning the sockets. You could hear the fritzing out of the socket. We were emerging from shit. We were a creation, not unlike Frankenstein’s monster. Someone had to pay, and you best get the fuck out of the way. Fire would be left on the road behind us.

Our Party hats were starting to look shabby. This was like our 26th New Year’s bash of the year. Vomit, grease, scum on our party hats… and oh yeah, we brought sand from the beach and covered Gooseman’s apartment in sand one night, so we could have a beach party. We used our hats to build sand castles.  Confetti was all in the sand. The Guy Lombardo record was fucked too. Somebody used the record as a cutting board and there was cheese and a melted piece of pepperoni adhered to the record. It just would not come off. We played the record anyway.

Joey Bonanza would steal cases of champagne every Friday, and Bingo and I would shake the bottles up and pretend the Mets had just won the World Series. Pretend and make believe. You Gotta pretend and make believe. Everybody, had a bottle of their own except for Joey. As the eldest, he was 20, the Doctors already told him, his liver was only good with smothered onions. He’d been drinking since he was 12. So, Joey Bonanza was sitting on the sand, which covered a splintered floor. He sucked on M&M’s which were laced with Acid or something else.
“The M&M’s melting in your head and not your hands,” I said to Joey.
Four girls dragged Joey to a wall, and took off his cowboy hat. They began taping his long hair to the wall. It looked cool. Joey would eventually pay for his art.
Some new girl I never saw before held the tape dispenser and was giggling. She was a good six feet tall in her kick ass boots.
Wow. She had a paper clip dangling from her lower lip.
“You must be from the city,” I said.
“How can you tell?”
“The paper clip is very white collar. We’re all blue collar fools here.”
“Are you against the paper clip.?”
“Not by any means of the imagination,” I said. “When I say we’re blue collar here. I mean we have one foot in the grave. I might be able to use that paper clip to dig out of the grave.”
We talked. Her name was Slinky and she was… Slinky and Six foot solid. Cute little breasts. Model. Next year’s Model.

Gooseman prepared fried chicken in the hot apartment. He threw 100 wings into a garbage bag. then he cracked a dozen eggs and threw them into the garbage bag. He shook the bag. Then he opened up two containers of bread crumbs and tossed that into the bag. Again, he shook the bag. Then he opened up the oven and threw the contents into three metal tins which had oil smoking on it. It was not a pretty scene. Very blob like pouring out of the garbage bag. We all waited for dinner.
Bingo said, Do the abortion joke Squid.” I was known as Squid Liquid back then. Gooseman, named me Squid Liquid because he said I was hard to read sometimes. He said, I shot black ink in front of my face. He said I was like my dad the mob guy. You didn’t know what he was thinking and he didn’t know what I was thinking.
The girl Slinky had her arms folded and said, “Yeah, Squid do the Abortion joke.” She looked pissed.
“I don’t think you really want me to do the abortion joke,” I said to Slinky.
“What are you chicken?” Joey Bonanza said  with his head of hair still taped to the wall.
The party started clucking in my direction. Then simutaneously they turned to me and asked,” Squid, how does a chicken have an abortion?”
I cracked an egg against my head. Everybody started hooting and hollering.
Slinky went out the door. I chased after her with egg on my face.
“What does that mean?” she asked.
“What does what mean?”
“You know exactly what I mean. What does that joke mean?”
“The point of my joke doesn’t mean anything. Chickens do not have abortions. They are just not allowed to hatch all their eggs. It’s a forced abortion issue.” I walked back into the house.
The chicken was ready. I grabbed a piece. Hot and good. I seperated the bones and watched the steam come off of the meat.
“Crack another egg on your head,” Joey Bonanza said. “I love when you crack an egg on your head. That’s so ballsy.”
“Hey Joey, why don’t you find Hoss and ride off to the Pondarosa.”
Joey tried to get up but his head was really taped to the wall. About twenty of us watched Joey try to get unattached from the wall himself. Three girls came over with shears. The only way Joey was going to remove himself from  the wall was by cutting his hair. It was duct tape they used to pin him in the first place. They started to cut him down. Strands of long hair remained attached to the wall.
“I had this hair for six years, “Joey said and started crying. They cut him down and he looked at the circle of hair which remained on the wall.
After a minute of everybody staring at the hair attached to the wall Joey said,”Classic.” That hair would remain there for years.

All through our rituals, Evil Eyes Pinky was playing records. She was the one going into Manhattan to Bleeker Bob’s and picking up these Punk 45’s. She loved her glam too. She played Bang a Gong and she loved Cheap Trick. She played Surrender about every 15 minutes. The tall girl worked in Bleeker Bob’s even though he hated girls. I guess she had a look with that paper clip
“Mommy’s alright, Daddy’s alright,
they just seem a little weird,
Surrender, surrender
But don’t give yourself away.”
“Joey admiring his haircut in a mirror said, “Please stop singing and playing that song. You’re freaking me out.”
He walked over to the wall and touched his long hair. I could see he was considering  reattaching his hair back to his head, “I need some air,” he said.
The M&M’s were getting to him. He stepped out.
Evil Eyes Pinky and the new girl Slinky were dancing around a pile of chicken bones on a sand bank.
Evil was cute in her rainbow icy mohawk. Her baby fat jiggled. Her big tits bounced up and down keeping the beat. Her big smile turning to grimaces as she kept dancing around the chicken bones. She had big puckered lips and she started braying like a horse. Running, jumping, arms akimbo, splitting legs, slipping on the sand.
Joey ran back into the apartment and made a dash for the record player in a frantic manner. Evil Eyes tackled Joey and they struggled for a moment and then started making out.
Evil Eyes Pinky gave Joey the hairy eyeball.
“No, no, don’t give me the hairy eyeball. I love Cheap Trick  but mostly I love you.”
They continued to roll on the sand and on the chicken wings and continued to make out.
Slinky walked over to me,”This is a fun party. Evil Eyes is a funny girl.”
“New Year’s is always fun,” I said.”Evil Eyes is one of my best friends. We’ve known each other since we were kids.”
Other couples were fooling around.
“Let’s get out of here,”  Slinky said.
“Let’s,”  I said.
She grabbed my hand as we walked out the door. Bingo came running after us, “Hey, where are you guys going?”
“We’re going for a walk.”
“Good, I’ll come with. Let’s walk over to Shea?”
“I don’t want to go to Shea, I said. I tried to think of a way to shoo Bingo away but with no luck. Fuck it. He can come for the walk, “O.K. let’s take her to Shea,” I said.
“Bingo,” Bingo said. He was such a happy Puerto Rican punk.
What’s Shea? A Punk club.”
“Definately,” I said. Me and Bingo laughed.
Shea was where the Mets played and it was only a half a mile from  Gooseman’s apartment. It was in Flushing Meadow Park, right behind The Queens Botanical Gardens. We hopped the metal fence and smelled the flowers. Bingo had a little flashlight with him. He always carried one, just in case there was a black out.
“Evil Eyes tells me you’re a Jewboy.”
“He’s a crazy Jewboy,” Bingo said. “Alot of punks are Jewboys. The Ramones are Jews. They’re from over there. He pointed to Forest Hills and Rego Park. The Dictators are from over there. He pointed North to the Bronx.”
“Shut-up Bingo. The girl didn’t say there was anything wrong with me being Jewish. Did you?” I asked.
“No, I’m a Mid-Western Jew girl. I’m starting Columbia in the Fall.”
“You’re going to Central America.” Bingo started talking very fast in Spanish to her.
“I think she meant the University, you dope.”
I wanted to cry. I don’t know why. I said,” I just want to learn how to be,” I mumbled. I really didn’t know why I felt vulnerable with this Amazon from the cornfields or where ever she was from. Suddenly, I was glad Bingo was with us.

We walked to a park bench with a lot of kids on it. They were listening to Devo on a cassette player by the big sculpture of the globe in the old World’s Fair Park. They were smoking weed and were surrounding another kid. Bingo who is only a little bigger than five foot 4 inchesand he tried jumping to see what was happeningover the crowd. When, I saw who it was that had a steak on her eye, I cut through the kids.
“What happened to you,” I said to Savage.
“She took off the steak which was on her eye, either to see who was talking to her or to show me her black eye.”
“Come on ,” I said. You’re not going back to that house till I talk to that cocksucker.
“Where are you taking me.”
“It’s New Year’s at Gooseman’s”
“Oh, fuck. I forgot it was Friday.”

Savage was one of my best friends. Her dad died when she was 8. Then her mom remarried. Then her mom died when she was 15. Now, her step dad didn’t like the way she was dressing and didn’t like the music she liked and my father’s mob blood was boiling in me. I was going to do something sick. I had to think. “Stay calm. You can straighten him out. You don’t have to ask your dad for a favor. You can do this yourself.”
Fuck if I knew what to do but no one was going to hit Savage. My sweet friend was not going to feel unsafe in her own home. Not that I felt safe in my own home but at least my asshole dad never hit me. He let me get hurt. He could have prevented things from happening. He let me get beat up on occassions but he never hit me.

I dropped Savage at  Gooseman’s. The party was winding down. I had a plan. Savage’s dad was a cop and he would have a gun in his home but I didn’t give a shit. I was too young to give a shit. Sweet Lucy was hit by a monster. She had no mommy, she had no daddy. She had this monster in her home. Her home. Fucked families for miles around. Fuck. So many sad miserable people, mistreating their kids. Broken down. Broken. Broke… Fucked.
Who the fuck did I think I was?.. Sweet little Lucy with a black eye and her dead mom with a black eye. Fucker had to pay and he was a cop. Could have gotten my crooked mobbed up dad to do something. Then I’ll owe him something. I can angle this. I grew up with that madman. I got it
“Joey, you got your sledgehammer in the back of your pick-up?”
“Where else would it be?”
“You got your ski mask?”
“Where else would it be?”
“Let’s go.
“Go. I can’t go anywhere. I’m high man. I feel like a midget going up the assshole of the Jolly Green Giant.”
“You’re driving. Let’s go.”
“I can’t drive. I’m really high. I’m looking for undigested peas up the Jolly Green Giant’s ass. I need snacks.”
“I’ll drive,” Slinky said.
“You’re not involved.” I said.
“Not yet,” she said.

As we were leaving Bingo said,”You want me to come.?”
I could see he was nervous. Nah, stay here with Savage and keep her company.
“Bingo,” Bingo said.

“Here we are, come to a sudden screeching stop. I got out of the pickup and made alot of noise. The sun was coming up. New Year’s was ending. I got the sledgehammer and limped to the fuckers car. I don’t know  what kind it was. Nothing new or valuable. I smashed the front window of the car out with the sledgehammer. The lights to his bedroom went on. I saw him looking at me with my ski mask on. He pointed the barrel of the gun at me.
“Do you know me?” I asked. “Do you want to see my face?” I smashed another window of the car out. Do you really want to see my face! Think about it buddy.” I knocked out a headlight. Am I here by myself. I smashed the rear window out.
“I don’t want to do this but I was hired to do this. If you want to see my face let me know.”
I pretended to take off my mask. I saw the cop lower his gun and then shut off the lights.
“Leave Lucy alone. Sell the house and give her half the money. I don’t want to come back.”
I turned around and limped back to the pick-up very slowly. I threw the sledgehammer in the back.
“Drive away very slowly,” I said to Slinky.
“Yes sir. Where’d you learn that.”
“I’m fourth generation Jewish Mob on my father’s side. I know things, I don’t even want to know.”

We got to Gooseman’s and they broiled the steak that was on Savage’s eye.
“You can go back home today. Your asshole step- dad will never bother you again. I’m pretty sure. He’s going to sell the house and give you half the money.
Savage gave me a hug, “You want a piece of steak?”
“Wasn’t that in your freezer since you were a kid. Didn’t you mom defrost that over her black eyes and then refreeze that. Isn’t that like ten years old of freezing and then refreezing?
“Maybe,” Savage said.
“Fuck,” Bingo said as he swallowed a piece of  steak with ketchup on it.
The End

Slinky and I dated for three months. I still talk to her. Nobody died from the steak. Bingo threw up just in case.

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An I wanna liquify

Everybody gone dry

Or plug into aerials

That poke up in the sky

Or burn down suburbs

With half closed eyes

You don’t succeed

If you don’t try

-Clash City Rockers- The Clash

Alot of people are asking me what happened on that plane? How can an entire plane be taken over by  mob guys, including the pilot? How was it possible to pass metal detectors with guns and 100 grand in counterfeit money ?
Not now.
Gotta tell you something else…

End Part IV Come back later for more

“I’m not going on that plane, with this gun in my pocket.” I told my dad and tried handing him back the 44.
“Son, it’s o.k. I wouldn’t ask you to hold that gun except that I’m already loaded with weapons. He opened his briefcase. It was filled with cash and two weapons.
I looked at the briefcase and shook my head, “You know, we live in stressful times. You could end up in a nice Hotel in on Guantanomo Bay, with all this money and guns. We are about to board a plane.”
“Fine,” my father said. “Throw the weapon in the briefcase. You can carry it, after we go through security.

END PART III

Category: Religion and Philosophy My funeral was awesome. I can still feel the bubbles of champagne fizzing in my head… No… That’s the zombie poison fizzing, turning my brains to mush. So, if I can eat your brain now… Wait… I just ate brain at this funeral… My funeral…. Whose brains did I eat?… Brain matter in my pocket. I guess for a snack for later… Did I find my killer? Who cares? Hahaha… hahaha.
I jiggled the brains in my hands like dice or like evidence. I put it back in my Armani suitjacket pocket.
Wait, did I put this long needle through my ear?… Oh, it helped me think. I’m doing much better with the needle lodged in my head. I can control alot of my thoughts… Old Zombie trick. Gotta hand it to the internet. Zombies are on it, helping explain their plight. We are victims, not that I’m complaining. My life as a Zombie, I mean my death… My stuck status of being a part of the walking dead, has been nothing but positive. Whereas, my living life was shit.

Category: Religion and Philosophy My funeral was awesome. I can still feel the bubbles of champagne fizzing in my head… No… That’s the zombie poison fizzing, turning my brains to mush. So, if I can eat your brain now… Wait… I just ate brain at this funeral… My funeral…. Whose brains did I eat?… Brain matter in my pocket. I guess for a snack for later… Did I find my killer? Who cares? Hahaha… hahaha.
I jiggled the brains in my hands like dice or like evidence. I put it back in my Armani suitjacket pocket.
Wait, did I put this long needle through my ear?… Oh, it helped me think. I’m doing much better with the needle lodged in my head. I can control alot of my thoughts… Old Zombie trick. Gotta hand it to the internet. Zombies are on it, helping explain their plight. We are victims, not that I’m complaining. My life as a Zombie, I mean my death… My stuck status of being a part of the walking dead, has been nothing but positive. Whereas, my living life was shit.

A bunch of Cartoonists were fighting. Cliff was duking it out with Mort. Tony was fighting with Hellman. I walked over to them.
“Everything all right with you fella’s?”
Cliff pointed to Mort, “Do me a favor and eat his brains.”
Mortt said, ” Rip off all his limps, and let him spend eternity spinning in circles.”
“Why are you guys fighting?
“We all want to do the same story about you.”
“Thanks,” I said. “Carry on.” They began fighting. Later I would eat their brains,” I thought.
Uh, here comes a real suspect…

Dopple Ganged On The Side Of My Head
Category: Jobs, Work, Careers

Dawn asked, “So who do you have to kill?”
“It’s much more complicated than that.”
“Does it pay? We need to generate more money. Your dying junkstore business is wiping us out.”
“Hey, the store is doing good, Ebay is good, Amazon is good, what could be bad?
“Our bank account is bad. We overdrew last month.
“How is that possible?”
“Maybe if you weren’t running around with your family so much, we could get some stuff at the store done. Or, if you took more care of the kids, I could get in there and take care of the clothes at the store.
“O.K.,” I said. This week I’ll take care of the kids and you go take care of the store.”

“So, what’s the job?” Dawn asked again.
“I’m too embarrassed to tell you.” I picked up the three month old boy  and made faces at him.
“What’s the pay.”
“A hundred grand.”
” A hundred grand? Your cheap ass mobster father is going to give you a hundred thousand dollars.”
She repeated a hundred thousand dollars, as if it might be something other than dollars. Hundred thousand pebbles from the beach. A hundred thousand  paper bags for the store. A hundred thousand pieces of shit to sell at the store.
“A hundred thousand dollars in cash to be delivered when I find my
father’s doppleganger.”
A fight ensued. My wife won. She always wins the fight. Usually, it’s because she’s right. Sometimes, it’s because she grew up in a household of lawyers and politicians. Bottom line, she’s smarter  than I am and she knows how to debate.
We agreed that my father’s crazy notion of looking for his doppleganger could take years and that it would best get an hourly rate. Say, 40 dollars an hour…
Just then, my father called. How’s that for serendipity. My father called, and I could tell him my new idea of how I would like to be paid. 40 an hour and ten thousand extra upon finding my father’s doppleganger.
As soon as I got on, I made my demands, “Dad, it could take me 10 years to find your doppleganger. Instead, of giving me a hundred grand in one shot, I’d like 40 bucks an hour and if I don’t exceed a hundred grand, I’d like ten thousand bonus…”
Dawn patted me on the back,”Good job,” she whispered.
“That’s fine for you.” I smiled to Dawn
Then my jaw dropped and I hung up the phone.
Dawn looked at me perplexed, “What’s wrong? You negotiated better than I would have. That bonus idea was great.”
“I have to pack my bags. My dad’s picking me up and we’re flying to Vegas. My Aunt Mina in Vegas, the talent scout, thinks she ran into my father’s doppleganger. We’re leaving tonight. This whole case may only take a few hours. We just lost out on a hundred grand. Maybe it’ ll take a couple of hours and I’ll make a couple of hundred dollars , instead of a hundred grand. What did we just do?”
“You shouldn’t have changed the deal around. Always, stick with the original deal.”
We packed in silence. I felt like I lost my wallet

Is the glass half full or half empty.
I spilled out the water and started chewing on the glass. It tasted like potato chips, the cheap kind. In fact, when I was still alive, my joke about cheap potato chips was that it tasted like sharp chards of glass. Ha ha. Now, I was eating glass. At least, I still had a bit of a sense of humor.The glass went down smooth.
I did not see the Zombie who got me coming. That’s because the Zombie took the form of a chihuahua. Got me right on the ankle. Little Fucker. Usually, Chihuahua’s will let you know they’re there. Not if it is a Zombie. Damn. Quiet and confident.
Damn, what bad luck. I took precautions. I listened to the Government reports. They said Zombies are dangerous but they also said go about your business. Now, I was dead. I just didn’t see that little fucker coming up behind me. One little bite and I was dead.
I tried to remain positive. It’s part of my nature. So, I was a Zombie. Eventually, I would hunt humans and eat their brains. I would be doing them a favor, I thought. If possible, I’d only eat morons. Tons of morons.
Thinking was still possible, and I guess even though, my heart wasn’t beating blood anymore, and I could eat glass, I still felt human, as long as I could still think. I just wasn’t alive. There were all kinds of humans who took delight in sticking firecrackers in Zombie’s heads and blowing us up. Not nice.
I must say sometimes, I wanted to kill Zombies. Zombie killers were seen as heroes. I guess the same way your butcher is a kind of hero for cutting up your meats. I mean, eventually all humans would be able to kill in order to survive, it’s in our nature… I mean their nature. I’m not used to being dead yet and I’m not all Zombie yet. It takes about a week to stiffen up and be driven by one goal of wanting to exclusively eat brains. Verbal stuff goes,but you have thoughts for a week before… What was I saying. Hahaha.
Truthfully, it’s not much different then who I was when I was alive. I mean, I never wanted to eat brains before. I meat, I mean, I mean when I was human I also lived by being driven by one goal. I didn’t know exactly what that goal was but I was driven by what all the other humans seemed to be driven by… I have no idea what I meat. I mean, I mean, let me tell you what I was.
My name is Robin Blanks… I mean my name was Robin Blands. No, it was Robin Banks… No, I used to rob banks… No. I was a Computer Hacker… robbing bands. Rubber Bands. I have a rubber hand. That’s true. If the chihuahua would have bitten my hand. I would still be human…
Let me try again. My  name is Robin Hood. No… I wanted to be Robin Hood when I was a kid. When I grew up, I started robbing banks with computers. Now, I’m rich and part of the one percent. One percent dead… No, I was one percent rich. Now, I am dead… Also one percent only. We are a growing population. Will you count the animal Zombies. So.I was in the one percentile of the wealthiest, and now one percent of the sorry ass Zombie battallion. Wait, the animals are growing in Zombie population. You gotta watch the chihuahua’s. Hahaha,hahaha.
Wait, how did the chihuhua get into my fortress. I live in a mansion with camera’s and security. Oh… I get it now. I was murdered. Damn. Get my lawyer. No, that cock will eat my brains like he always does and take everything from me…
Get my trophy. No, she is in Haiti. Hahaha hahaha. Haiti zombies! Hahaha hahaha.
She is making some movie, I am producing… Wait it is a Zombie movie. Hahaha.There’s alot of funny stuff when you’re dead but still thinking.
So, my jaw is getting stiff. Who am I? Was I? Who was I?
Robin Blake. No… If I could just eat your brains, I’m sure I would remember. Robin Blanks. Yes… Yes… and I am part of a different one percent now. I am still special. I was special alive and I am special dead. Who else can go to their own funeral. Damn, I was lucky. Live fast,die young but still linger around. Nice. Just like a true cocksucker. I was going to have a funeral too. You’ll see. You’ll be there if I invite you.
I felt pretty good too. Happier than I’ve ever been. Calm. Serenity. I had none of these things when I was alive. I had wealth and could get my dick sucked by anyone I wanted. Everybody wanted to suck my dick one way or a deader. I mean one way or another. Holder of my semen could mean big bucks.
You know, I wasn’t such a nice guy. I feel luckier that I’m deader. A double header. A double deader. I was dead when I was alive and now that I’m double deader, I feel kind of alive. Hahaha,hahaha.
Whoever killed me did me a favor. I had to go thank them in person and suck their brain out their nose.
Damn, doesn’t it sound like my lawyer and my wife dud me in. I mean did me in. No, they dud me in. They wouldn’t need to kill me. I knew they were fucking. They knew that I knew they were fucking. They were diving in the shallow part of the pool. None of us knew or cared or thought anything meant much. The higher we dove into that shallow part of the pool, the better
No, somebody who loved me brought that chihuahua into the house. They killed me and turned me into a Zombie to make me happy. And happy, happy I was. I would have at least a week of happiness to find the person and eat their brains. No… Thank them.
What I really wanted to do was find out how this Zombie fad started. Some say Government. Already, there was Zombie recruitment for the Army. Some say, religious fanatics. Zombies were great for Sunday preaching. Some say, one crazy man. All say, from my one percent. Now, I was one percent of the richest and one percent of the wealthiest Zombies. I was wealthy because I was going to find out who made us Zombies and I would not eat his brain.  I will bite him on the ankle and make him happy. Hahaha,hahaha.
Come back for my funeral. Better wear boots… Hahaha.hahaha. If I invite you, you may be a suspect.

End Of Part I

The Braves were in town and Bingo and I decided to play hookey and sneak into Shea again. We’ve been sneaking into Shea for thirty years.
It’s easiest when the Mets are in a losing season but this was another Camp Day and as you can read in the blogs, Bingo and I were very successful last time. Last time, it wasn’t just Camp Day, John Travolta and Robin Williams were at the Stadium shooting a film and we got to meet them and hang out with them. I guess if you’re more interested in that story, you should go read it now. This Met story just involves Bingo singing like a human beat box and me shitting my pants.
“So, I don’t want to sneak in by being a Camper again, We did that a couple of weeks ago and John Travolta still thought that I was ten years old when we said goodbye after three hours of hanging out.”
“That’s cause you act like a ten year old.”
“Oh, and you act like what?”
“I’m the brains of this operation.”
“Well, that’s bullshit. I’ve gotten us in.”
“Yes, cause you’ve done whatever I said.”
Bingo’s Puerto Rican blood was beginning to boil, “I’m getting us in.”
“Go ahead,” I said. I turned on my boombox and Africa Bambaataa’s, Planet Rock was playing.
“Damn, that’s a good song.” I’m glad I brought the old summer tunes with me, even though this box is so heavy.”
“That’s it,” Bingo said.
“Oh no… What are you thinking.”
“We’re going back in time. We just need some cardboard.”
“No, not cardboard, we’re middle aged guys with kids. We can’t go on cardboard. I’m a fat guy. I could die.”
“After all these years of almost dying sneaking into games, you are going to listen to my way.”
He was totally right. We’ve been chased down by every govenment agency over the years. Once we were even shot at with a b-b gun. We have history. After 30 years, I had no choice but to listen to my partner in crime. Besides, I was really running out of ideas of sneaking into the game and we just pulled the camp councilor stunt a couple of weeks ago.

Braves 7 Mets 6

Got some rest. I feel refreshed.  For the rest of my life I will be running, but I feel good.
I made the papers by killing my compubot. So be it. I loved him but he had to go. It was like killing someone who was suffering and had  cancer. He would not be able to survive without being plugged in to me. He was me though. My better half? He was smarter than me. After all, he was the computer hooked into me since birth. He was definately me. When I killed him , he bled. That surprized me. I don’t think he really bled. I’ve read about this. It’s happened before. When men have killed their Compubots, they thought their machines bled. They began to think their better half was human. The Authorities, wanted us to call our Compubots “better halves”. I guess we were the lesser’s. The Lesser’s and the Better’s. I like that.

The End for Now