Mixed Bag O' Shit
"Anywhere I Go Somebody Gets Clipped!!" Jessica Fletcher - (1986 - 1995) CBS TV
"Anywhere I Go Somebody Gets Clipped!!" Jessica Fletcher - (1986 - 1995) CBS TV
A Dash of Speilberg and Houston
My client Vyra Vixel pays me quite well. She does not want to listen or can’t bring herself to understand that David Addley does not exist.
When I received the file from the previously engaged private investigator, I believed I could nail this guy. But now, no way. I went over everything the original investigator did, twice. And I constantly go over everything I’ve done. This guy never existed, I now finally realize that. This is truly a cold case with no suspect.
When I wanted to end it, Vyra used all her feminine charm to keep me going on this case. Then, out of nowhere, she amazingly relented and we amicably ended our professional relationship. I thought she finally accepted David Addley did not exist. But there was more to Vyra. I found out there always is.
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My client Vyra Vixel pays me quite well. She does not want to listen or can’t bring herself to understand that David Addley does not exist.
When I received the file from the previously engaged private investigator, I believed I could nail this guy. But now, no way. I went over everything the original investigator did, twice. And I constantly go over everything I’ve done. This guy never existed, I now finally realize that. This is truly a cold case with no suspect.
When I wanted to end it, Vyra used all her feminine charm to keep me going on this case. Then, out of nowhere, she amazingly relented and we amicably ended our professional relationship. I thought she finally accepted David Addley did not exist. But there was more to Vyra. I found out there always is.
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Flip Frost Loves New York
His awakening thought: The roaches were probably still sleeping. They only come out at night.
He looked in the cracked dresser mirror and yawned. Gazing down at his 1960‘s analog clock radio (the only artifact from his childhood he still owned). It non digitally registered 5:45. He figured it must be afternoon.
After all, his foggy alcohol drenched brain is slowly recalling stumbling out of CBGB’s to the blinding morning sun. He also remembers breakfast at Leshko’s on Avenue A. Ordering pancakes with his new friend Johan from Germany. They picked up and dragged along those chicks from that fetid excuse for a punk rock band, “The Sanitary Napkin.” A Typical New Jersey art school chick wanna be band.
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Summer of Love
Roscoe Mueller sat on the bed in his hotel room, flipping through the cable channels to find the porn. He experiences an introspective moment about his occupation: Hired Assassin. To his sensibility, Hired Assassin sounded better than the generic Hit Man. "Why are people enthralled by guys like me?" Roscoe will never quite understand this fascination. READ MORE |
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Shit For Brains
Angelo Pinterano was a seventeen year old living in Elmhurst, New York at the beginning of the 1970‘s. He quit high school and was working as an apprentice furniture slipcover maker. “This is a good future for a boy like you Angie,” his boss Mr. Kopelstein assured him. Angie silently replied, but with a faux smile as he stitched a beaded lavender laced sofa cover.
One night, Angie went along for a car ride with some older kid he had just met. It turned out to be more than just a quick innocent car ride to grab some White Castle cheeseburgers.
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Angelo Pinterano was a seventeen year old living in Elmhurst, New York at the beginning of the 1970‘s. He quit high school and was working as an apprentice furniture slipcover maker. “This is a good future for a boy like you Angie,” his boss Mr. Kopelstein assured him. Angie silently replied, but with a faux smile as he stitched a beaded lavender laced sofa cover.
One night, Angie went along for a car ride with some older kid he had just met. It turned out to be more than just a quick innocent car ride to grab some White Castle cheeseburgers.
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The Old Neighborhood
Upon my discharge from the service in 1969, I went directly to Ohio University and eventually returned to New York City to live and work in Manhattan. My old neighborhood, Lefrak City just became a fading afterthought.
As time went by, I would pass Lefrak City when traveling on the Long Island Expressway. Like most Manhattanites, I considered all of Queens “fly over country.” You know, as most obnoxious bi-costal elites consider the midwestern United States.
When I lived there, Lefrak City, the high rise apartment complex, was a combination of mostly Jewish and other Caucasian ethnic families. It was built for those escaping the deteriorating ethnocentric neighborhoods of Manhattan, the Bronx and Brooklyn. This exodus included leaving behind the major crime that invariably accompanied urban blight.
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Upon my discharge from the service in 1969, I went directly to Ohio University and eventually returned to New York City to live and work in Manhattan. My old neighborhood, Lefrak City just became a fading afterthought.
As time went by, I would pass Lefrak City when traveling on the Long Island Expressway. Like most Manhattanites, I considered all of Queens “fly over country.” You know, as most obnoxious bi-costal elites consider the midwestern United States.
When I lived there, Lefrak City, the high rise apartment complex, was a combination of mostly Jewish and other Caucasian ethnic families. It was built for those escaping the deteriorating ethnocentric neighborhoods of Manhattan, the Bronx and Brooklyn. This exodus included leaving behind the major crime that invariably accompanied urban blight.
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Charlie's Secret
Frankie was the first to know Charlie’s secret.
Frankie and Charlie were students at Queens College. In August of 1971, Charlie called Frankie and asked him for a really big favor. Charlie needed an immediate ride into Manhattan to secretly see a doctor.
On the way in, Charlie reluctantly confessed what was going on.
Charlie admitted he was gay and may have contracted anal gonorrhea.
Frankie wasn’t that shocked, He noticed some telltale signs over the past couple of years he had known Charlie, but he never gave it any serious consideration.
"I've always said you were a Liberal Fag" Frankie stoically said.
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Frankie was the first to know Charlie’s secret.
Frankie and Charlie were students at Queens College. In August of 1971, Charlie called Frankie and asked him for a really big favor. Charlie needed an immediate ride into Manhattan to secretly see a doctor.
On the way in, Charlie reluctantly confessed what was going on.
Charlie admitted he was gay and may have contracted anal gonorrhea.
Frankie wasn’t that shocked, He noticed some telltale signs over the past couple of years he had known Charlie, but he never gave it any serious consideration.
"I've always said you were a Liberal Fag" Frankie stoically said.
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Snap, Crackle, Pop
I believe I was stuck down here in the recesses of Leon’s subconscious because of the lack of oxygen we experienced at birth. I see and feel what Leon does, but I have no say or control over whatever he, or should I say, we do.
Leon is not aware I am part of his psyche. My circumstance is somewhat comparable to that of a stroke victim or person in a coma, they can hear and feel everything around them, but they can’t respond and are totally helpless.
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The Third Avenue Caper
Sean O’Mera owns an old time neighborhood Irish bar on Third Avenue: Jimmy’s Place. He loves it. He’s been running it for more than twenty years. The real estate people are always bugging him to sell. But Sean has resisted all the money they continually offer. He still honors his deceased father Jimmy’s commandment: “Never sell the building or the Bar... This is Jimmy’s Place!”
This old building outlasted the Third Avenue Elevated line. In some nooks and crannies you’ll find dust that’s way over seventy years old.
Just take the bar: As you walk in, the middle of the ivory white marble door saddles are worn smooth. They brace the heavily trafficked black and white checkered classic tile floor. Especially along the dark old mahogany bar as they run through out the rest of the historic establishment.
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Sean O’Mera owns an old time neighborhood Irish bar on Third Avenue: Jimmy’s Place. He loves it. He’s been running it for more than twenty years. The real estate people are always bugging him to sell. But Sean has resisted all the money they continually offer. He still honors his deceased father Jimmy’s commandment: “Never sell the building or the Bar... This is Jimmy’s Place!”
This old building outlasted the Third Avenue Elevated line. In some nooks and crannies you’ll find dust that’s way over seventy years old.
Just take the bar: As you walk in, the middle of the ivory white marble door saddles are worn smooth. They brace the heavily trafficked black and white checkered classic tile floor. Especially along the dark old mahogany bar as they run through out the rest of the historic establishment.
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The Fuck Pit
After all these years, Mavis and Karlo Duncano are quite a team. The couple met at Coney Island. It was lust at first sight and love eventually entered the picture a very short time later. They are still together, still partners and the best of friends. Mutual Muses, that they are.
Married middle aged women wistfully smiled at teenagers Mavis and Karlo while glancing over their sunglasses as they followed their determined husbands myopically searching for a patch of sand to stake out on the increasingly crowding beach.
It's the Late 1960's at Coney Island.
Mavis and Karlo made some scene. Their bodies yearned to intensify the electrified touching and sensual steamy breaths they shared while kissing and melding to each other on Mavis’ colorful beach blanket. But who cared, this was summertime in Coney Island!
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After all these years, Mavis and Karlo Duncano are quite a team. The couple met at Coney Island. It was lust at first sight and love eventually entered the picture a very short time later. They are still together, still partners and the best of friends. Mutual Muses, that they are.
Married middle aged women wistfully smiled at teenagers Mavis and Karlo while glancing over their sunglasses as they followed their determined husbands myopically searching for a patch of sand to stake out on the increasingly crowding beach.
It's the Late 1960's at Coney Island.
Mavis and Karlo made some scene. Their bodies yearned to intensify the electrified touching and sensual steamy breaths they shared while kissing and melding to each other on Mavis’ colorful beach blanket. But who cared, this was summertime in Coney Island!
READ MORE
Your Destiny is Frankie's
Frankie’s ability to employ Kentucky Windage and hit long distance targets is conventional wisdom among the VC.
Frankie’s intense stalking commenced.
Hours from the Landing Zone after humpin’ in the Bush all night,
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Frankie’s ability to employ Kentucky Windage and hit long distance targets is conventional wisdom among the VC.
Frankie’s intense stalking commenced.
Hours from the Landing Zone after humpin’ in the Bush all night,
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You Do What You Gotta Do
The radio was quiet, we had just gotten our pizza and were slowly driving toward Madison Square Park to observe lovely women walking to the subway on their way home. The clean and refreshing breeze made the leaves on the trees rustle along with the hum of the city on this fine September day. The late setting sun filtered through the tall buildings and trees casting long shadows and turning the cityscape and those on its streets into a Johannes Vermeer landscape.
It’s a beautiful autumn afternoon in 1982 New York City and I’m loving it!
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The radio was quiet, we had just gotten our pizza and were slowly driving toward Madison Square Park to observe lovely women walking to the subway on their way home. The clean and refreshing breeze made the leaves on the trees rustle along with the hum of the city on this fine September day. The late setting sun filtered through the tall buildings and trees casting long shadows and turning the cityscape and those on its streets into a Johannes Vermeer landscape.
It’s a beautiful autumn afternoon in 1982 New York City and I’m loving it!
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Quenchable Revenge
As told by Police Officer Janis Johnson,
NYPD (Retired:)
Never did he commit perjury, take or solicit a bribe, use excessive force to make an arrest or perform any other dishonest behavior. No shades of grey, that is the truth. Anyone who knew him (cops and perps) could attest to this fact. His integrity was never compromised.
This duality cop thing was never a problem for him. He had plenty of “iffy” opportunities, but he did not succumb to temptation. He was no goody two shoes God fearing Christian, he was just himself.
He really took this cop shit seriously.
There was ONLY one exception: People who abuse children and perps involved in sexual abuse. Street Justice was always out of the question, but these situations tested his convictions.
All cops despise those people, as did he.
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As told by Police Officer Janis Johnson,
NYPD (Retired:)
Never did he commit perjury, take or solicit a bribe, use excessive force to make an arrest or perform any other dishonest behavior. No shades of grey, that is the truth. Anyone who knew him (cops and perps) could attest to this fact. His integrity was never compromised.
This duality cop thing was never a problem for him. He had plenty of “iffy” opportunities, but he did not succumb to temptation. He was no goody two shoes God fearing Christian, he was just himself.
He really took this cop shit seriously.
There was ONLY one exception: People who abuse children and perps involved in sexual abuse. Street Justice was always out of the question, but these situations tested his convictions.
All cops despise those people, as did he.
READ MORE
Shit on a Stick
I’ve been around the Lower East Side of New York for a long time. I remember when SoHo was starting to go from industrial to trendy and the cry of the indigents was “SOHO SUCKS BRING BACK THE TRUCKS.”
I was witness to it all, buildings occupied by squatters in the East Village becoming million dollar condos almost overnight. Bodegas disappearing and fancy boutiques sprouting up in their place. An almost instant repatriation of an entire neighborhood of people out of an area to be replaced by midwestern millennials.
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I’ve been around the Lower East Side of New York for a long time. I remember when SoHo was starting to go from industrial to trendy and the cry of the indigents was “SOHO SUCKS BRING BACK THE TRUCKS.”
I was witness to it all, buildings occupied by squatters in the East Village becoming million dollar condos almost overnight. Bodegas disappearing and fancy boutiques sprouting up in their place. An almost instant repatriation of an entire neighborhood of people out of an area to be replaced by midwestern millennials.
READ MORE