They Were Committing Crimes

And no one ever caught.

Thrillseekerman sold dope for 14 years, and the cops never caught on. He finally quit, and now he's scared to do it again, but the temptation is always there, because he so loved the outlaw dealer life where you never get caught and outsmart the law.

He also loved being a dealer because he loved being a criminal. As a dealer, you can be a criminal without hurting anyone else, so if you have a shred of guilt left, and Thrillseekerman does, it's a great Catholic profession.

I mean, a few months ago, or 10 years ago, Internetman met 15-year-old girls on the Net, and they sent him nude pics without him even asking, and said they wanted to have sex with him right now, but they were too far away.

So what did he do with the pics? Delete them, call the cops and turn himself in, or keep them in an evil secret file to show it to his most evil friends? I bet they are gone now. Internetman is paranoid. Were they illegal?

Internetman went into a chatroom the other night, or was it five years ago? There was a teenage girl in there masturbating on cam, and everyone in the room was watching the fun. Well, she was 13, but she looked like a full-grown to him. The chat room was full, mostly kids but some adults too, both sexes. Was it illegal?

It was seven years ago, or seven weeks ago, or seven months ago, and 14-year-old girls came to talk to Internetman in the chatrooms and ask for cybersex. What's a man to do?

It was a while back, or the other day, or some time ago, or 4-7 years ago, and Internetman did the cybersex thing with them, the 14-yr-olds, the 15-yr-olds, and the 16-yr-olds, and of course the droves of legal-aged women as well, and it was all in good fun.

One of them begged and begged for him to send her porn, so he broke down and sent porn to a 14-yr-old girl. Was that illegal? Now he's paranoid, and he'll never do it again. Or will he? Maybe he better not.

In a chatroom, five days ago, or last year, or five years back, the 17-year-old girl saw he had a cam and asked him to turn it on. Internetman did so. She started whining for him to take his pants off so she could see his stuff, because she had never seen one before. "But I've never seeeeen one before," she whined into Internetman's headphones, but he chickened out again.

Internetman went into these really evil chatrooms, just on a wild dare, and people were all trying to do horrible and illegal stuff in there, men and women of all ages, normal folks and weird. Internetman tried not to do anything illegal. Will he go there again? He doubts it.

Internetman went to this chatroom last year, or eight years ago, or yesterday, and met this guy in Kentucky, a psychopath I guess, who wanted someone to rape his wife. You had to break in, tie her up, rape her, and get away with it.

He described the sex acts he wanted Internetman to engage in with his wife. He said you could not hurt her in any way, and that she would secretly love it. Getting away with it was Internetman's business, and the guy would not call the cops and report the rape.

So Internetman sat there and wondered whether or not he could be a criminal rapist and try to get get away with it, under special circumstances of course in which at least the victim's husband consented, but he chickened out at the end.

Internetman met a girl once on the Net a few weeks ago, or was it seven years ago? She was 17 years and seven months old, and wanted sex right now. She kept demanding and demanding, and she would not knock it off. She was a lesbian, but she wanted to try it with a guy to see what it felt like. Internetman figured it was an evil plot by one of his enemies trying to get him arrested for child molesting.

Good thing he was paranoid, so he never took her up.

The Internet is the most evil place Internetman knows.

You can do just about anything on here, and who knows if it's even legal or what. Where are the cops? What's a cop? There are bulletin boards right now where people are asking for child porn and bragging about their antisocial acts, and Internetman knows where they are. He's been to them, lurking, but he didn't do anything illegal.

Internetman went to chatrooms where sex perverts traded porn pics. Mostly it was fun, but some people sent Internetman really illegal pics without him even asking, and he freaked out and deleted them about as quick as they hit the screen. Was that illegal? Did Internetman commit a crime?

One of his drug addict friends, Killerdude, came over the other day, or was it 22 years ago? He asked Thrillseekerman to be the getaway driver for an armed robbery, and Thrillseekerman considered it, but thank God he didn't do it.

A few months back, or 18 years ago, one of Thrillseekerman's doper friends drove the getaway car for an armed robbery and he told Thrillseekerman all about it.

Then the armed robber himself came over to Thrillseekerman's house with his girlfriend and they sat around and took drugs. He seemed like a smiling psychopath, and those guys are always charming in a way. Later Thrillseekerman called the cops and told them the guy's name, but there was not much they could do.

Last week, or 21 years ago, Thrillseekerman called the cops on his friends and tried to get them busted. Once for selling heroin, because Thrillseekerman thought that was shitty. The other time because Thrillseekerman was mad at his friend who sold pot and wanted to burn the guy.

Dopers work with narcs all the time, mostly for revenge reasons. Most people don't know that. Without dopers to work alongside them, every narc in America would be unemployed.

Once, 11 years ago, or a few weeks back, Thrillseekerman stole Killerdude's car, not to be a criminal or anything, but just because he was furious at him, but he brought it back when the cop's son across the street was going to have him arrested.

One time, it was last month, last year, or it was 20 years ago, and Thrillseekerman drove by a business at 5 AM with a slingshot and blew out a window in a business that because he hated it and it was evil.

Committing street crimes like that, which was actually a revolutionary act in favor of people's power and against the crooked businesses that rip off the people, is one of the biggest rushes that Thrillseekerman knows. You will shake like a leaf. You will shake so hard it will be hard to steer the car after you do it. You will be terrified and thrilled all at the same time, and when you get away with it, there will be no better feeling.

Killerdude came over a while back, or 25 years ago, or the other day, and said he was considering taking an offer to kill some guy, from a woman who was offering big money to have her husband knocked off. So they, Thrillseekerman and Killerdude, sat around for hours blasted out of their minds on dope and talked about whether or not you should murder someone for the money.

They discussed Christianity, as in whether or not a Christian should kill, and whether or not the would-be murder victim deserved it since he was a wife-beater, and Thrillseekerman tried to spy on Killerdude for the cops, but it did not work. Thrillseekerman didn't like the idea of killing for money (even Thrillseekerman had some basic values) and thought his friend was degenerating morally.

They took lots of drugs, Thrillseekerman and Killerdude, while they talked about all this insane and evil stuff. It was last month, or was it 15 years ago?

They sat around for hours at night stoned out of their minds on chemicals, saying, "Yeah! I could play the role of the insane serial killer! I could play that role! I could play any role! I could play as many roles as you could! And that's a lot of roles," as they shook their heads and laughed demoniacally but didn't really consider it, just fantasized about it. About what? Being a serial killer? How many people do that?

It was really weird back in those days, or the other day, or whenever it was, but not too many crimes happened.

Once they got loaded and made some bombs. It was a few months ago, or 13 years ago, or back in the 80's. Thrillseekerman had these antisocial maniac friends, some of whom seemed like they might snap, but Thrillseekerman wasn't worried, and they liked to make bombs, like all maniacs do. It's so fun making illegal bombs. The psycho dudes showed Thrillseekerman how to make bombs, which is so easy it's scary.

Then they took the bombs and blew up this dude's windshield (who deserved it) with a fused time bomb, and they slashed his tires, then they took another bomb, this time sort of a firebomb that shoots up a flame, and threw it on some other guy's lawn (who deserved it), and it burned a hole in the lawn.

Making little bombs is the easiest thing in whole world to do, and every revolutionary and maniac of any age might want to make them and set off them in the street at least, that is if you have the nerve, just to see what an explosion looks like and to piss off the neighbors.

They called themselves a gang and sat on the front porch of Thrillseekerman's house and shot BB pellets and rocks and dirt clods at the neighbors' house (who deserved it) and dared them to call the cops.

The people did call the cops, but the cops hardly cared because they thought Thrillseekerman was doing a civic duty by getting rid of the real criminal (the neighbor) he was attacking. In other words, Thrillseekerman was a public service vigilante ridding the neighborhood of scum as he saw fit.

The cops paid him a visit on the phone, told him to watch it, and told him to spend $10 to repair the door Thrillseekerman had smashed in with a baseball bat after laughing maniacally and running across the street in broad daylight as a joke just so the whole world could see it and to dare them to call the cops. If you're doing a public service crime, do it in broad daylight. It was just the other day, or long, long ago.

Another time Thrillseekerman sneaked into the ladies room to take a crap because the criminal, feral, 13 year old Black youths were in the men's room threatening with their eyes to attack anyone who came in. A woman called the cops, and the detectives threatened to kick Thrillseekerman's ass if he did not confess to a perverted crime he did not commit.

He only wanted to confess to taking a crap, which was the only crime he did. Well, he was also trying to see if he could get away with it, so there was a thrillseeker aspect. The detectives quickly figured out he was not a pervert, but they kept on torturing him anyway and trying to get him to confess. Don't you just love detectives? How many people in the US just confess unless the cops beat the shit out of them?

He was 20 again, or was he 50, or was he 35? He was jogging in the park, and Thrillseekerman met a 12 year old girl he had known from an old job for a long time, and they chatted a bit and smiled and laughed, and then she flat out asked Thrillseekerman to have sex with her, and smiled when she said it, just like that. Not only that, but she was beautiful, brilliant, wise and athletic.

And Thrillseekerman considered being the ultimate criminal that you can be, a child molesting sick evil scumbag piece of dirt, but then he decided against it. There are Lolitas and teenage girls that want it, 12 and up, with adult men, 18-45. And if you do it and get caught, you are going down in the worst way.

It was yesterday, or long ago in another lifetime. A whole crowd of gangsters came in the door. There had just been a gang fight, and people were hurt. The gangsters were underage, some of them, but they used an 18 year old girl to get in the door because they knew Thrillseekerman's fatal weaknesses.

Later there were shots fired 50 yards from his door, and the cops didn't even want to take any witnesses. They never do in gang crimes, and besides, in Greater Tijuana, here in California, there are pro-gang Hispanic spies everywhere.

Thrillseekerman's White, and he claims Norteno, or does he? Or does the whole neighborhood? After all, he lives in a Norteno hood, so everyone more or less claims in a way. Thrillseekerman wears jogging shoes with N on them for a reason, or does he?

Three weeks ago, or nine months ago, or 12 years ago, someone came by and flashed a United Farm Workers shirt (Do you get it?) at Thrillseekerman and asked him to go out with a shotgun and kill some Surenos. Thrillseekerman had to think about it for a bit, because nothing would be so thrilling and dangerous, and Surenos probably deserved it anyway, but thank God he declined.

There were criminal opportunities all over the place for decades, right under your nose, people enticing him here and there to break the law and commit serious crimes, some of them felonies, if only one was psycho enough, and they seemed to dare you and egg you on. In the barrio anyway, no snitching was the rule, so you might even get away with it, but you could still get caught.

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I Stuck Gumby Christ On the Wall

The latest death toll figures from Hurricane Katrina can be seen on this website here. The famous Russian neo-Nazi video is on this blog here.

Updated April 12:

I put Gumby on the wall. He's a Christian Gumby now, a Christ Gumby and a Jesus Gumby and he's up there to writhe and squirm for a long time.

I don't know why I did it. All I know is it was late at night, I was seriously wasted, and I saw Gumby smiling and I thought as usual he was laughing at me and my idiotic life. This time I got so angry that I grabbed Gumby by the throat, grabbed a hammer and nails, and nailed the sucker to the wall where he can laugh at me no more.

I have Gumbys all over my apartment. Pokies too. And plastic dinosaurs. There's stupid plastic cows and a plastic Batman and Robin the Boy Wonder (except my toy Robin is not homosexual like the real one), all real tiny, appropriate for a 50 year-old manchild.

I really want me some little tiny armymen. Then I am gonna line those suckas up on my top shelves and get some rubber bands and play Shoot the Armyman.

I'd like some creepy crawlers but I can't find any anymore. We used to make em with Plastigoop. It was good times. Then they would go on creepy crawler marches all over the whole house, only moving a few crawlers at a time, and then moving each crawler a few steps forward. In this way, the insipid marches could go on hours and hours.

There were two leaders of the crawlers, Horny and Hornet, and they were two green horny toads. They were husband and wife, but I never saw them have sex or anything. My leader was Tim, a red spider. I'm ashamed to admit that I still love Horny, Hornet and especially Tim more than any girlfriend I ever had, but maybe most guys are like that?

My Mom stood there and laughed at us like we were so stupid. "Why do you only move a few at a time?" she asked. You know females always think they are superior to us guys, but they don't get it.

The crawlers were in formation and they were a marching army dammit. Plus we got to crawl around on all fours and that's always fun. I still do it sometimes. I will even bark at you and pretend to bite your heels if you give me enough alcohol.

Plus, all males come from creatures that walked on all fours. That part of the collective unconscious faded in women, and it's now a distant memory they only remember painfully while they are cleaning the floor like they ought to do when they are not getting us beers from the fridge. But with guys it's a real thing. Bipedalism is a new thing to us, as is rudimentary speech. Many males still communicate mostly in grunts to this day.

Well, Gumby Christ has started people worrying in the complex where I live. Some of them still think I am a criminal, but it's good for people to be scared of you around here in the Hood. Now there is a rumor going around that I am insane because I stuck Gumby Christ on the wall.

As long I don't start worshipping him, I think I will be ok. When I start bowing down in front of Gumby Christ and yelling, "He died for my sins! For yours and his and hers and Pokey's too!" I promise I will try to seek help.

I admit I was seriously deranged when I crucified him yesterday but it had to be done. He was leading all the toys around here astray and fomenting rebellion in my apartment. I'm the High Priest in this damned apartment and I won't stand for any rebellions, so I killed Gumby, and that is that. Go make a religion and say he died for your sins if it bothers you so much.

People look at the Gumby on the wall and they say man, that is so stupid. I agree. That is why I did it. I normally never decorate walls because guys leave walls bare, and also I'm usually too neurotic and terrified to stick stuff up. I'm afraid it won't look right.

Gumby has two old paintings on either side of him that don't really match. On another wall is a Jesus mask from Guatemala with two Guatemalan knives on either side framing it. People think that is weird too, but they need to be quiet about it or I will pull off one of the knives and show them how sharp it is.

People see all these Gumbys around here and they start laughing. There's Pokeys around too, a gum-man's gotta ride something, and this is before the iron horse. Hardly anyone around here seems to be on my side, except maybe these friends who keep coming over, but I even wonder about them sometimes. I figure Gumby's on my side at least, so there is some comfort.

Sometimes Gumby does ride Pokey around here for everyone to watch. Also sometimes people come over and Gumby and Pokey might try to have sex with each other, as much as a man and horse can do that without the guy dying. People think that is childish too, and it is, I admit.

People see these stupid Gumbys and and ask me if I like Gumby. I say no, I hate Gumby. Then they ask why do you have all these Gumbys. I tell them I don't know.

On another wall is an evil Devil mask from Guatemala. It has two worthless university degrees on either side. Everyone hates it and says it's evil and gives off bad vibes wants it taken down, but that's why I put it up in the first place.

When they object, I just laugh diabolically and tell them I am the Devil, and ramble off a bunch of other names for him like Beelzebub, El Diablo, Shaytan, Satan, and especially The Evil One. I say, "The Evil One", really evil-like, and then I laugh real loud and say, "That's my name!" People get disturbed when I do that, but that's why I do it, and anyway, it's pretty funny.

I went over to see a friend the other day at his store. He was doing carpentry in the basement. I walked into the basement and asked, "Is this where you store the bodies?" He didn't think that was funny at all and I had to apologize. Some people just can't take a joke.

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