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My Book Signing

  December 03, 2016 1pm to close Glow Worm New & Used Books 311 Main St, Spring, Texas 77373     Come join ...

Alien Harvest

There was a pounding in my head.  Like a sledge hammer against a metal door, trying to break it down.  Unlike a normal headache, this pounding was coming from the outside in.  Someone or some, thing, was trying to get inside my mind.
I woke up, holding my head in my hands, as if trying to brace myself from the impact.  My stomach began to rumble, yelling at me over the meal I had before going to bed.  I took a deep breathe, letting it out slowly.  I took another then another, I did not want to get sick.
The fog surrounding my head was beginning to burn away and I lifted my head.  That’s when I saw them, two gray aliens with a mysterious look on their faces.
I tried to scream out but one of the aliens threw up his hand and my screams became muffled.  The other alien grabbed both of my ankles and flipped me over, off of the bed.  My feet hit the floor as the alien let go of me and grabbed the rest of the blanket, throwing it over me, wrapping me up in it.
I started thrashing about, trying to kick my way out of the blanket.  The aliens began to drag me out of the room.  I started kicking even harder, hitting one of the aliens, causing him to let go of the blanket.  Using the distraction I was able to free myself from the blanket.
I started crawling away but the aliens reached back and grabbed me again, dragging me out of the house.  I struggled more and more but there was nothing I could do.  Since my voice was still muffled my stomach began to scream in protest.
The aliens looked back at me as my stomach growled at them.  A worried look passed between them before looking up in the sky.  They were ready for pick up and time was of the essence.
They continued to drag me further out into my front yard so that I was clear of the large pine tree.  My stomach continued to yell at them and their fear was growing more intense with each gurgle.
One alien looked back at me and images began to flash in my head.  Images of a dark room filled my brain.  The room contain a single metal table.  I could see myself laid out on this cold table, fear in my eyes, my ass lifted up in the air slightly.  Two aliens stood behind me.  One was checking my restraints as the other lifted a shiny metal cylinder.  There was no mistaking what was about to happen.
“OH HELL NO,” I shouted.
This surprised me as well as the aliens.  In their shock they dropped my feet.  This time I rolled to my left, up onto my feet, facing the aliens, ready to tackle whichever came near me first.
A bright light lit up my yard, freezing me in place.  I could no longer move but that didn’t stop my stomach from continuing the fight.  I used the only weapon I could wield.  My ass cheeks flapped in the wind I had just created, the foul smell hitting all three of us.
Instantly the light turned off and the aliens looked at me, anger clearly visible on their expressionless faces.  The one alien who had shown me the images of the probe sent a new image in my brain.  They would now be stuck on Terra because I had just wasted their fuel.
“Is that all,” I said, laughing.  “Wait here.”
I walked back into the house and went to my kitchen cabinet.  I grabbed two glass mason jars with the lids and came back outside.  I handed them both a jar before turning around.  They looked at me puzzled and could not see that I was about to pull my own finger.
I released the second bomb of the night.  They quickly opened the jars and captured as much of the fumes as they could.  The light filled my front yard once again, blinding me, then turning off just as quickly.  When I could see again, both aliens were gone.
Turns out that aliens abduct people and anal probe them because they really are harvesting farts.  They act as fuel for their spaceship.

My Book Signing

 
December 03, 2016
1pm to close
Glow Worm New & Used Books
311 Main St, Spring, Texas 77373
 
 
Come join me at this amazing little book store in Old Town Spring.  Get your holiday shopping done while enjoying a great atmosphere and good food. 
I will be signing my books as well as giving away some goodies.  I will have 5 copies of each one of my books but if you want to reserve a copy please email me before November 1st.
Can't wait to see you there.

I'm Batman

I only knew him as Batman.  He was an overweight hairy homeless man with a thick beard who wore a pair of blue jeans, with a rope for a belt, and an old gray shirt with the Batman logo across the chest, the yellow shinning bright despite the holes in the shirt.
He had a blue tarp that he used as a blanket at night and as a cape during the day.  He had a break from reality long before I met him but that never stopped him from having an uplifting attitude.
Batman was a proud man.  He never accepted money or food without trying to do something to earn it.  He would walk up and down Main Street in downtown, saying hello to everyone he passed.
“Hello citizen, I’m Batman,” he would always say.
I would always give him my hand to shake but he never took it.  He was afraid to touch another person for some reason.
I would see him every Saturday morning and I always looked forward to seeing him.  I thought he would always be there until one day he wasn’t.  After three weeks of not seeing him I started to ask around if anyone knew what happened to him.  It took another week before I got my answer.
During the week as people were getting off work Batman was patrolling Main Street, as he always did.  He saw someone was getting mugged at knife point.  Without thinking he sprang into action, yelling at the man to stop as he ran toward him.  The mugger stabbed Batman before running away.  He died the hero he always claimed to be.
While Batman may be some actor in a costume in a movie, to me, the real Batman was a large fat homeless man with a thick beard and a huge heart.
I miss Batman.

It's a bird, it's a plane

The air was cool and calm.  The only wind came from the whooshing speed of the blur flying by.  Was it a bird?  Was it a plane? No!  It was Superman!
The little four year old boy stopped running around in a circle and placed his hands, balled into little fist, on his hips and puffed his chest out.
“Dun da dun,” could be softly be heard humming in the air as he hummed Superman’s theme song.
“Up, up, and away,” the boy shouted as he jumped into a run, his balled fist above his head as he ran, no, flew, around in circles in the front yard.
A car drove up and a man got out, walking toward the chain link fence.  The boy stopped suddenly, his hands going to his hips once more, his feet rooted firmly to the ground, shoulder length apart.  He watched the man in uniform walk closer and closer.
The dogs next door began to bark loudly as they ran toward the man, their mortal enemy.  The fence kept them from ripping him to shreds.
“Have no fear citizen, no harm will come to you,” the boy stood taller, his chest puffed out as far as his small framed skinny body could allow.  “I’ll protect you.”
“And who are you,” the man asked with a smile on his face.
“I’m Superman,” the boy boasted.  “I’m faster than a speeding bullet.  I’m more powerful than a locomotive.  I can leap tall buildings in a single bound.”
“Thank you Superman,” the man said as he placed the mail into the boxes for the whole block.  “You better put some clothes on before your mother gets mad.”
The boy looked down at himself.  His bright dark red rain boots, his red underoos, a white bath towel he had just pulled off the clothes line, wrapped around his neck, tied and retied as he ran in circles in the front yard.
The sound of a screen door slammed shut snapped the boy back to where he was.  With his super hearing he could hear footstep after footstep as they approached the backyard.
“THOSE ARE MY GOOD TOWELS!”
“Up, up, and away,” I said quickly, fear in my voice, as I flew around in circles, hoping to escape the wrath of my mother.

Alton Sterling

There's a lot of talk about Alton Sterling being shot by the police. Was he murdered or was it justified? From what I've seen and I'm speaking from personal experience, this was justified.
Shortly after Hurricane Katrina Houston was flooded with New Orleans refugees. A lot of the criminal element came as well, turning some parts of Houston into a literal war zone.
I am a Commission Security Officer in the state of Texas and at the time I was working for Blue Moon Security, a company who thought they were a private police force. I, however, did not follow orders well, because I would have to remind my fellow officers that we are SECURITY and not police officers.
I was assigned to one of these war zones and on my second night there we had a bad encounter.
My supervisor, a former police officer who had been fired from his department, showed up to walk around with my partner and myself. We went straight to one of the "hot spots" and sure enough a local dealer was dealing.
The dealer knew that if he stood on the street then he wasn't on our property and legally we couldn't arrest him. This little detail escaped my partner and supervisor.
They stepped into the street and stood on both sides of him, with me staying on property, blocking him from coming onto our property.
Words were exchanged, tempers flared up by all three of them, and an audience was beginning to form.
"Sarge, he's not coming on property, let's just call the cops and report him so we can keep patrolling."
My request fell on deaf ears. The dealer shoulder checked my partner as he attempted to walk away and the fight was on.
My supervisor joined in, trying to take the dealer to the ground. I seen someone else start toward the three and I blocked him.
"Everyone stay back," I shouted as the three fell to the ground, rolling around in the street.
The rolled to the other side of the street and I walked over, watching like a wrestling referee, making sure no one else jumped in.
I was not going to get involved because these idiots over stepped their boundaries. But I also wasn't going to let something bad happened to them either.
I saw something that made me end the fight. I pulled my gun and put it to the dealer's head and shouted, "Don't fuckin move, drop it!"
Everyone froze and my supervisor said to put my gun away but I held it to his head and yelled, "I said drop it!"
At that point the dealer opened his hand and my partner's gun fell to the ground. During the struggle he was able to grab the handle and pulled the gun almost all the way out and my partner or supervisor didn't know it.
The point is he was pinned to the ground but his arm was still free enough to grab a gun. I'm thankful I didn't have to pull the trigger.
Just because someone is pinned to the ground on his back doesn't mean he is subdued. He was a threat and could have killed both officers. The same is true of Alton Sterling. It's easy to judge from the comfort of your cell phone but having been in this situation I can say it's not always so cut and dry.

Get In

That’s how it all started, I got in, no questions asked.  When you trust a friend with your life you tend not to ask questions until it’s too late.
I got into the passenger seat, laughing to myself, thinking this was a prank.  The tires screaming as they spun in place before throwing us forward told me otherwise.
“Hey man,” I shouted in protest and fear, yanking my foot completely in before the doors slammed itself shut.  “What’s going on?”
“No time to explain,” he said, staring at the road ahead of us.  He yanked the wheel quickly, not losing any speed, turning so hard I was thrown into my door with a hard thump.  “Seatbelt,” is all he said as he tried to correct the car, keeping us from rolling over.
I quickly yanked my seatbelt down and snapped it into place.  I braced myself as the next turn was coming. 
“You got your gun on you?”
“Of course,” I grunted through clenched teeth as he made the turn.
“Superman or Reba?”
“Superman,” I answered, bracing myself for the final turn out of the neighborhood.  Seeing the light for the main road was still red my heart began to beat faster.
“Slow down,” I shouted, “slow down!”
He made the turn, narrowly missing the two vehicles crisscrossing the intersection.  Horns were honked but we were gone.
“Sit back down,” he said, looking over at me.
I was bracing for an impact to the point I was half way standing up in my seat.
“You want to tell me what the fuck is going on,” I said, panic filling my voice.
He motioned to the back seat with a nod of his head.
“It’s play time.”
Looking in the back seat I seen an AK-47 and an AR-15.  There was a box with spare magazines and three boxes of ammunition for each.
“Load up,” he said as he honked his horn, letting other drivers know he was plowing through another red light.
“What happened,” I asked, more shocked than anything else.
“Just load up and don’t distract me.”
I seen the highway coming up and from the lane we were in it looked like we were able to head south.  Everything bad always happens south.
“Fine,” I said, reaching for the box and pulling it to the front, resting it on my lap.  “But I only have one spare mag for Superman.”
“Bug out bag,” is all he said.
I glanced to the backseat once again and all I saw was the two rifles.  I looked to the floorboards and found a small black duffle behind my seat.  Unbuckling my seatbelt I reached over my seat and pulled the bag over to the front.
Unzipping it I seen two fifty round boxes of ammunition for my pistol.  Anyone who truly knows me knows I only carry one size, a .45mm.
“I guess it is play time,” I said, dropping the bag on the floor at my feet.
I separated the spare magazines from the box and began loading the AK rounds first.  First rule of thumb, always make sure the other guy is ready first.  Since the AK is his signature rifle I made sure my friend was ready to go when we got to wherever it was we were going.
I loaded what I assumed would be my magazines and put the box on the floor board next to the bag.  I could feel the tension coming from my friend as we continued to barrow down the highway at ninety miles per hour, weaving in and out between cars.
“Are you going to tell me who we’re going to play with?”
“They shot the skinny bastard,” is all he said.  That was all he needed to say.  And that’s how I ended up in this jail cell.