This is presented as a work of fiction and dedicated to nobody.

“Post Office”, Charles Bukowski 

Fiction: Bull The Pug Bone #10

Bull The Pug

Bone #10

December 2nd is always a cherished day
in the household of Bull and Miss Tweety. It’s the day they brought home their three
little bundles of fat and joy. It was the also the start of a new tradition of
putting up the family Christmas Tree. They go with one of the smaller versions
that is around three and a half feet tall. Just enough for Bull and Miss Tweety
to use a step stool to get it looking right.

The boys are marveled by the blinking lights and
they have a bad habit of trying to eat the crocheted versions of gingerbread
men and candy canes. They are so disappointed when there is no taste to them.

Miss Tweety surprised them with some real
gingerbread cookies and some egg nog. They jumped at the chance, Bull included,
but he pulled a flask out of his back pocket to make his an “adult doggie”
version.

They finished putting the ornaments on the tree
and Bull ran off down the hall to the bedroom and came back with a wagon full
of presents to put under the tree. Of course, at this point the little boys
were checking names and shaking the ones with their names on it trying to
figure out is in them. Porkchop said “This is either a fruit cake or a brick”,
even with him being a little fat boy he wasn’t a fan of fruit cake. Darrel and
Darryl also had similar packages and the each were stumped on what was inside.

Bull grabbed the remote and pawed at some buttons
which eventually turned on some Christmas music. He and Miss Tweety sat on the
couch and watched their little chipmunks sing along with Alvin, Simon and
Theodore. Bull whispered into Miss Tweety’s ear and she smiled and said, yes
that would make a great Halloween costume next year.

Till next time (maybe it won’t be 4-5 months this
time).

I finished “City of Bones” by Michael Connelly a little bit ago, poured through the majority of it last night in between what amounted to 3-4 middle of the night naps.  

This one was harder to get into early on simply because a lot of it was used in season 1 of the TV show “Bosch”. After becoming bored with the “stand alone” “Chasing The Dime”(will get around to that one at some point), I poured through this one, and in the end, it continued to have some similarities with the show Bosch, but had enough differences to make it somewhat unique. 

“Lost Light”, is the next Bosch book on the agenda. I still need to pay Hunter a visit and my old friend Lucas Davenport is a bit lonely, but I only have his “new” one left to read, so he sit there for a while, or at least until the new Virgil Flowers book rolls out later this year.

I’m still surprised I’m reading this much fiction, or reading that much at all. 5 years ago, it was occasional sports biography. I guess it’s an escape from reality. 

Fiction: Bull The Pug Bone #9

Bull The Pug

Bone #9

It was Miss Tweety’s birthday and Bull had just
got back from dropping the boys off at his parents’ house. They’d come back a
bit more spoiled, and loaded with sugar, but that’s what Grandparents do.

The boys spent the morning fixing Miss Tweety a
lunch, her favorite sandwich a BLT with extra extra B and Miss Tweety spent the
afternoon cleaning up the kitchen and putting everything back together.

Bull pulled in the driveway dropped out of the
Jeep and was signing a tune as he walked in the door. “How much is that doggie
in the window?

The one with the curly pug tail.”, yeah he adlibbed
it a bit, but it made Miss Tweety a little weak in the knees, all four of them,
when she heard him singing with his scruffy voice.  She was nearly finished dressed and Bull
hopped in the shower continuing his song.

They pulled in to the parking lot at Miss Tweety’s
favorite Chinese place, and he reached over into the glove compartment and
handed her a box. Her paw, came up to her mouth and you couldn’t tell it, but
she was blushing. Bull had bought her a little inch and a half diamond tennis
bracelet. He said, “if it doesn’t fit just right they can adjust it.” She said,
I’m sure it will be fine as she put it on. She leaned over and gave him some
kisses and licks and they went into eat.

They both ordered a Sesame Chicken combo meal,
which came with fried rice, broccoli and carrots. Bull ordered eight egg rolls
for the table. They cleaned their plates except for three egg rolls and ordered
a banana split for desert. Bull asked the waitress Sally Mae, a Lhasa Apso with
an overbite for a doggie bag. He wasn’t offended by the name because he knew
doggies loved leftovers. He paid the check, left a tip and he and Miss Tweety
were headed over to pick up the boys.

They corralled them and got them in to the Jeep.
They were wired. It was Momma, Daddy, Momma, Daddy until Bull tapped Miss
Tweety on the leg and pointed to the doggie bag and nodded to the back seat.
Miss Tweety turned around and gave each of the boys an eggroll, and that pacified
them for about seven seconds. Momma, Daddy, Momma, Daddy. Then Bull got them to
hush for a moment and talked them in to sing “Happy Birthday” to Miss Tweety for
the fourth time that day. She simply smiled each and every time.

Till next time.

Ficition: Sarah Leigh Radley

Sarah Leigh Radley (Don’t Call Back)

Friday Night Baseball and The Beach Boys

Friday night, Mack came back home from eating
dinner with a couple of old high school friends. He was full, a bit tired, but
also a bit wired. He knew he wouldn’t find sleep for quite some time. He came
in, put his keys on the table by the door and went into his den and cut the tv
on. It was 11:30, he figured he’d could catch a west coast baseball game. He
dialed up ESPN, and the Giants and Padres were in the 2nd inning.
Madison Bumgarmer throwing the pill for the Giants against some young Latino
pitcher he had never heard of.

He walked into the kitchen, opened his cabinet
that contained his non-refrigerated adult beverages.  He wasn’t in the mood to mix anything, so Jack
Daniels it was. He grabbed the fifth and there wasn’t much in it.  He poured it into a tumbler, kicked it back
and killed it. He looked back into the cabinet and pulled out a new bottle. He
took the glass and the bottle back to the den and sat down in his chair, and
poured another.

He put the game on mute. Growing up listening to
Vin Scully broadcast the Dodgers game, it was hard to listen to anyone else
attempt to do the same job. He grabbed his laptop and started to set up a
playlist to his most recent birthday present from his sister, “Made in
California”, a 6 cd box set of The Beach Boys, that contained some unreleased
material, demos, and covers, along with alternative or live versions of some of
their hits.  Feeding it through a wifi
signal made it much easier.

He put the laptop down on the coffee table,
poured another drink and watched MadBum (Bumgarner) strike out the side). The
game was headed into the 8th inning and Bumgarner was tossing a
no-hitter. He hit the 2nd batter of the game, otherwise he’d have a
perfect game going. He was also 2-3 at the plate with an RBI double which was
the Giants only run in this 1-0 contest. He was due to lead off the 9th
and jacked a first pitch fastball into the third deck of the Western Metal
Building that helped enclose the stadium. Bumgarner as you can see, can rake. 2-0
with 3 outs to go for each side.

Mack poured another drink, the bottle was well
past halfway finished and he thought to himself, “there are a lot of these
songs I’ve never heard before.” Then the phone rings. He leans down picks it up
off the coffee table. 7-0-4-f-u-c-k-o-f-f “what does she want?” he says aloud
with no one there to answer. That little devil on his shoulder says “answer it”.  He swipes the green button up and says “hello”.
She tells him what a jerk response his email was, and all he can do is ask “what
do you want from me”, and the only answer she could muster is “I don’t know, I
really don’t know.”  

He shook his head, kicked back another drink and
watched the Giants 1-2-3 hitters ground out short, 2nd and short,
respectively. He told her that the “pitcher she liked was on ESPN and about to
throw a no-hitter if you want to watch it”, she mumbled some answer and he
thinks he heard her reaching for the remote.
8-9-1 due up with a pinch hitter due in the 9th spot. The #8 batter
lined out to short on the hardest hit Padre ball of the night. The pinch hitter
struck out, MadBum’s 14th on the night, which made him wonder if he
had matched Bumgarner’s strike out totals with drinks. The leadoff batter
worked the count full and with a horrid call on ball 4, he headed to first
base.

You could just see anger steaming from the left
hander’s eyes as he was yelling into or chewing on the palm of his glove. Bruce
Bochy, the Giants manager called time and went out to the mound to calm his
pitcher. The umpire came out to break up the meeting on the mound and Bochy unknowingly
turned right into the camera and it looked like he said “shut up you blind
cocksucker”. The umpire throws him out of the game on the spot as they go nose
to nose. The rest of the Giants react and the catcher, Buster Posey wraps up
the pitcher and walks Bumgarner off the mound to keep him in the game. Sarah
asked, “What is all that about?”, and he said, “they didn’t like the call and
the oldest one called the umpire a cock sucker”. He said, “I’m going to go, I’ve
got things to do in the morning, Bye”. He heard a soft whisper of “bye” as he
ended the call.

Bumgarner struck out the next batter for #15, the
win and the no-hitter. As the team celebrated the manager was still barking at
the umpire when he was headed out to celebrate. Mack powered down the laptop,
cut off the receiver and grabbed the bottle and the glass leaving both on the
kitchen counter. Went and used the bathroom, brushed his teeth, stripped off
the rest of his clothes and crawled into bed. A little past 2am the phone rang
again. He didn’t move.

Fiction: Bull The Pug Bone #8

Bull The Pug

Bone #8

Miss Twetty and Bull spent most of the early
morning sharing some alone time, they did a little dance, made a little love,
then they heard their herd running down the hallway and into the living room,
so they got up to start the day.

Bull had big plans for his first 4th
of July with his boys. The grill would be on most of the afternoon with hot
dogs and hamburgers being served. He’d likely have an adult beverage or three.

Every evening but a few(rain/thunderstorms) since
Father’s Day after he got home from work, he spent some time out in the yard
with the boys playing baseball. Off in the side yard they had actually worn
some spots in the grass making their own diamond. Miss Tweety wasn’t 100% happy
about it, but she knew boys would be boys and she had four of them, if you
include her hubby and she did.  She was
less happy about the window that got knocked out by a foul ball, but that
turned into a group project with Bull hauling the boys down to Home Depot to
teach them how to replace a window.
Again, it comes with the territory and boys playing baseball around the
house has, would, and will cause future damage. Stiches here and there could
also be in the forecast.

They ate a small breakfast, only two breakfast
meats, eggs (made various ways) and toast. The boys were told to pick up their
room before they could go outside which basically meant a lot of stuff was
pushed under the bottom bunk and into the closet. Miss Tweety would have to
take them to task about that.

The boys had been outside about an hour and she
took them out a Scobby Doo, half iced tea, and half lemonade, which they loved.
Bull had the boys positioned at 1st, 2nd and 3rd
base and he was hitting them ground balls, teaching them how to turn a double
play. They wanted to hit, but as a good pug daddy, he had to teach them all
concepts of the game of baseball. They took a break, drank the rest of their drinks
and gave their momma some licks and kisses and then they each took a round of
batting practice before coming in for an afternoon snack and nap. Snacks and
naps were a family tradition.

They woke up and it was dark outside, not night
time dark, but potential for a thunderstorm dark and the boys were wondering if
it would ruin their plans of going to the park and watching the town’s
fireworks. Bull and Miss Tweety showed them some fireworks on youtube and the
boys couldn’t wait.

Bull had a surprise and even though this was
their first 4th of July, we are talking “dog years”, so they were
old enough for it. He told them each to stick out a paw, and to close their
eyes. He gave them each a sparkler and lit it and told them to open their eyes.
Daryl got scared to start with and dropped his, but Darrel and Porkchop were
amazed with Porkchop hopping around a little bit watching the sparkler dance.
With the cloud cover it was a perfect light outside for the sparklers.

They ate some more hotdogs and hamburgers and
crawled into Miss Tweety’s Jeep and headed for town. Bull had a little cooler
up front with a 6 pack of Bud Light in it. They pulled into the field where
they could view the fireworks. They crawled into the back of the Jeep and popped
open the glass and they waited. They were amazed. Daryl again, got a bit scared
cuddling up to his parents but Porkchop and Darrel were howling they were so
happy. Daryl eventually was howling too. Well until that loud one that sounded
like a sonic boom that startled all five of them a bit.  

The fireworks ended and they were headed home. By
the time they pulled back into the drive way the three little boys were
sleeping and snoring on the back seat. Bull had nodded off with his head
leaning against the window. Miss Tweety just smiled.

Fiction: Belize Episode 5

Belize

  • Episode 1
  • Episode 2
  • Episode 3
  • Episode 4

Episode 5

Backing out of the drive way, he stopped, reached in his pocket and pulled on
the ski mask. He needed it as he passed the security camera as he pulled out of
the gated community.  Living there for four
and a half years, he knew every inch of it. Since he was still receiving the
monthly newsletter via email, and with his name still being on the title as a
co-owner, he received any updates and changes they made to their “secure”
neighborhood. Pulling out on to the road, he pulls the mask off and stuffs inside his pocket.

It was time to switch cars and dump hers into the
water. He knew the perfect place. A little overlook near the damn. That was where
she blew him the first time. The front seat of his Nissan Pathfinder was bit
too cramped to go much further than that, but that worked.  He turned the radio up and Del Shannon greeted
him with “Runaway”, he sang along:

I wonder

I
wah-wah-wah-wah-wonder

Why

Why, why, why, why,
why

She ran away

Jack looked at him, his tongue sticking out the
side of his mouth with a look on his face, saying “dude give it up, you can’t
sing.” He rubbed him on his head and Jack’s tongue switched sides.

He turned right into the overlook and pulled up
beside his Avalanche.  He put the rest of
her stuff inside of his duffle, threw it in the back seat.  He picked up the body bag and put it in the
bed under the lid. He reached in, grabbed Jack and put him in the front seat.
He then made some adjustments to her seat, pushing it back up as far as it
would go put the car in gear and let it run down the dock off into the
water.  They might find it in two days,
it might be two years. Hell it could be two decades. It didn’t matter.

He got back into the Avalanche gave Jack a treat,
and pulled off into the night. He hadn’t driven the truck that much lately, he
forgot what cd’s he had in the changer, so he scanned through trying to figure
out what he wanted to listen to. The first disc was the Alabama Shakes, if the
disc had been in the dash he would have ejected and flung it out the window. It
wasn’t his cd. The second one was Gordon Lightfoot’s “Greatest Hits”, some good
tunes, just not what he was in the mood for. Disc 3 turned out to be “Born In
The USA”, by Bruce Springsteen, great album, one of his favorite, but again
just not fitting his mood.

He pulled up to the stoplight before getting on
the highway, reached into his console and grabbed his package of Red Man (he
didn’t chew that nasty shit, just hid his marijuana in it the packs) and pulled
a joint out of it and fired it up with the cigarette lighter, folding the
chewing tobacco back up and shutting the console. The music started and he said
to himself, “yeah this is perfect.” It was a homemade cd of The Doors, starting
out with angry version of “Hello, I love You”, he turned the music up and pressed down on the gas
and drove into the Georgia night.

To be continued.