massah Jack-off-Your-son wows cops by blowing llamas

Massah jackoffyourson allegedly staved off a child molestation accusation in 1990 with a $2 million payment to the son of an employee at his Neverland Ranch, according to a television report, which went on to say he also paid out another fifty three dollars to the family of a neighborhood pig, who refuses to be identified because he is afraid he will be labeled, quote, 'another one of massah jackoffyourson's washed up, ex-celebrity, rubba bubbas... like one of them corey's.'

The television news magazine, Grapevine on JPC, which reported the payment in a segment to be broadcast Friday night, did not disclose its source of information, though it is suspected they merely went to a jackoffyourson fan sight and checked out the section where the kids took polls on things like, "Did you enjoy massah jackoffyourson's mouth on your anus?"

The poll was taken by over three hundred children, and seemingly not one was into anal ligulas.In the segment, a retired Santa Barbara County Sheriff, said his office investigated Jackson in 1993 in connection with one boy's claim and came upon the second accusation. The ex sheriff spit repeatedly on the ground as emphasis of his disgust as he told reporters, "Yea, we knew he was a chicken chaser from way back, just couldn't get none of the parents to let them kids talk, not after getting to be millionaire's all sudden and signing away their rights. These are poor people who he victimizes, ones he can actually impress with all his fancy surgeries and highly advanced oral sex techniques on llama's and chimps. You think he can sing? You should see how he blows llama! You gotta respect something like that a little, but the kids? Now, if I had arrested him, I'd of shoved his sick, pus dripping ass out of my squad car when I was doing about ninety, and then turned around and run him over a couple times, then shot the hell out of whatever was left for trying to flee from a police officer.

"The first boy reportedly was paid $15 million to $20 million by massah Jackoffyourson to avoid what the jaskoffyourson's attorney's claim was an 'allegation' that would damage massah jackoffyourson's career even if proven untrue. Which is of course just another lie from their putrid lips, because, as all people not on the jaskoffyourson's payroll will now admit, it could only be good for massah jackoffyourson's career to just once be proven not guilty of molesting children, which is of course, impossible....Reporters laughed in the beak of jackoffyourson's press agent when the talking parrot dressed in leather chaps told them, "Massah Jackoffyourson denies, ark . . . ever harming any child. . . . and is… Rubba, let's all do shots and play rubba... ark, cracker... is currently fighting charges he molested a boy in 2003. He says he can, lie and buy his way out … ark... he owes me a lot of crackers... ark... for shitting in his mouth, like he demands... ark, crackers."Jackoffyourson is reported to have stated repeatedly that he was going to, quote, 'bitch slap that damn charge,' though his attorney has tried to explain to jackoffyourson that this is impossible, his efforts to get jackoffyourson to understand the nature of the rule of law was purely in vain. “He’s obviously… ark… a lot dummer than me, a goddamn parrot… ark… do shot! Rubba!!! Crackers….�

His attorney, the Scum Sucker, as his closest call him, went on to say, "My theory is, he thinks these kids are baby llamas. Arck... doesn't matter to me though, win or lose, I get paid a fucking barrel of money!!!! I'll say or do anything!!! Hell, if I hadn't shirked legal responsibility for all of my kids, ..ark... he could rubba them for this kind of money!! Ark!"The retired sheriff interviewed on the newsmagazine, Grapevine’s JPC, told reporters, `We always believed there were eight to 10 other children out there.'' ``

The sheriff also said that the employee's son did not file charges and didn't want to testify, saying, " He was afraid his friends would think he was a homosexual, or even worse -- a pig fucker or a llama blower or a chimp eater outer, or a parrot but lickerm or ... Well, quite frankly the kid went on and on -- two officers vomited half way through... Let me tell you, buddy, it is just pitiful what that freak does to those animals. He has leather costumes for those damn llamas... hell, the pigs, too. One pig he dresses up like Elvis all the time, even has a black pompadour he pastes on it’s head. He claims that he has captured Elvis’s soul in the pig, by some ritual he made up with peanut butter and banana sandwiches -- which were indeed the king’s favorite, so we are also investigating the possibility that the king lives, and may have, god forbid, been sodomized."The retired sheriff has previously discussed the boy's claim, but said he wasn't sure until the GRAPVINE report that massah Jackoffyourson had paid the boy $2 million.``GRAPEVINE'' said the settlement contained a clause barring it from being discussed publicly.The sheriff said the 12-year-old accused Jackson of ``fondling him through his clothes,'' which could be the basis of misdemeanor charges. No charges were ever filed because officers on the scene were too busy eating the free donuts and pizza and watching jackoffyourson perform amazing oral feats on both a lusty llama and a bi-sexual yak.J

ackson, 45, has pleaded not guilty to committing a lewd act upon a child, administering an intoxicating agent and conspiring to commit child abduction, false imprisonment and extortion -- as well as a series of sodomy charges on a list of animals that would make the Los Angeles Zoo green with envy. His trial is set to start Jan. 31, 2005. Not so president, when he heard that jackoffyourson would still be in possession of his children, went on telvevision with an impassioned speech calling for any al queda sleeper agents to never, ever blow up massah jackoffyourson. Democratic candidate, Mr. 'I don’t have an RV… oh those seven, well, the wife owns those….' Responded by saying, "Oh, his asinine attempt at reverse psychology is not going to work."Not so president responded to democratic charges by saying, "How the hell did they find out about reverse psychology? Find me that damn press leak... now!!! Have the cia kill them with paper clips, a slow death from a thousand points of paper clips... Yea, I like that there sound of words there... A thousand points of paper clips... Might work for torturing them camel riding yahoos, too. Now, tell me again, just what the hell were we talking about.

Massah Jackoffyourson recently renamed his never, never land ranch to simply, “No I Never, Never Played No Rubba With their Cute Little Asses Ranch.’

When asked by reporters what the fuck is up with the new name, jackoffyourson responded, “My attorney thingy, he says I mean don keys… What, oh… No, donkeys. They have cute asses… you ever stick your head in a donkey’s ass? It’s all warm and juicy, like Jiz Taylor’s pee pee thingy.�At that point Jackoffyourson was led away by a parrot, who could be heard by reporters saying, over and over as he lured the reluctant jackoffyourson away from the spotlight and into an awaiting limo filled with children, “The children in the limo are getting cold. Ark…The Children in the limo are getting cold….�

PUFFINS REFUSE TO SHOW THIER SMILING FACES TO THE CROWD

FACES TO THE PASSING CROWDS!!THE QUEEN IS NOT AMUSED.!!!For days now, zookeepers at the Lincoln park zoo have been having trouble with the rather notorious puffins in the main birdhouse. There have been rumbles with other birds in the past, photographs of the bouyant waterfowl flashing gang signs, and whispers that only their well-documented excessive use of drugs keeps them constantly smiling all day -- yet, in spite of all their personal problems, and what numerous puffins have described as 'really, really killer hang overs,' the puffins have always somehow gathered the gumption to show their smiling faces to the crowd. Not today, though. No, on this dark excuse for day, the puffins have turned their backs on the adoring crowds and are spewing white runny feces out their asses out right onto their once faithful well-wishers... Yes, this is hard to remove from the hair and lips, feces; this fount of puffin shit indeed does sting in the eyes, and taste terrible in the mouth. For journalistic purposes, I did have to have a taste…The Queen is not amused!!!

The bejewled old leach called a special session of parliament today, immediantly after news of the Puffins unruly, anti-market behavior hit the shocked and sadden shores of great BrittanyThe queen addressed parliament for thrity seven minutes, screaming over and over into the microphone, "The queen is not amused."

Landed Gentry in the parlaiment then began singing, in gregorian chants, over and over, rising and sitting as they intoned, "Theeeeee Queen . . . is . . . not . . . a.. mused."

One of the princes flounced up and smacked the old queenie to stop her from screaming that she was not amused, and the bejeweled wrinkle then went on to urge the puffins to ‘do their part,’ by 'smiling through the bars of their cages.'

Seemingly unimpressed, the puffins responded by continuing to spew white gook from their anuses at the passing crowds.

In related news, the penguins are still spinning around in circles as fast as they can and screaming, “Oh, the shits with you,� over and over again with no sign of stopping.

When their publicist was asked just what the heck those waterfowl are up to, she mysteriously answered this reporters stern, probing question by smiling and looking out at the horizon, then saying in a breathless, excited voice, "“They are ushering in the new time!!�

SENATOR DENIES PAYING FOR GOAT SEX

Senator Hollum of Buttwart, Arkansas, defended himself as he left the courtroom, telling reporters, "Now, look you weasels, I will not stand here and be accused of paying to have sex with a goat dressed up to look like my ex girlfriend Merry Belle... I have never once in my life had to pay for goat, you damn liberal terrorists!!"

WHO ATE THE HAMSTERS????

This question has been put to both cats and ruby dog.

At this point, none of them will admit to anything.

They are cagey, like old cons, just look at me with cold expressions. I’m convinced that they are waiting to have a lawyer present. Try to explain that to an uppity lawyer, though… none of them would come to the apartment for the trial. By the way, if I have to say, ‘yes, I am serious,’ to one more person today, they are going on my lists… you’ve been warned.

M., like those fucking lawyers, just doesn’t seem to take this very seriously. She won’t even listen to my arguments for torture. I know I could make them talk, but M. doesn’t want to ‘entertain’ what she erroneously refers to as, ‘another reason’ I should be ‘taking my medication.

’Those hamsters were coming around, too. Unlike the cats and the dog, who will still have nothing to do with the idea of killing humans. I am puzzled, once again, by just what I did wrong while raising these animals?

PENGUINS TAKEN IN RAPTURE!! Despondent humans left behind!!

Seemingly only penguins, the nypd's swat team, the pope, a few adjadcent aquatic birds, and various winos who were sleeping on benches in zoos across the world were taken up into the heavens this morning when a supreme deity finally kept its promise to save the worthy from the hell of the world.

As the deity scooped up the penguins in his hands, thousands of screaming human voices were raised to protest the supreme deity's decision, representing every type of whining known to man. The deity shushed the humans, then pointed at the amusing antics of various penguins who were doing an elaborate ice-scapade version of a tale that they explained, in a short introduction, was too complex for human understanding. . .


Before leaving, the deity told the humans,"Hey, ectoplasm, get over yourself. I didn't even try to make another species that comes close to a penguin. Let alone, Man... Yea, right -- come on, you don't even really believe that do you? Every dog you have ever met is a better being than you. . . I mean, name a dog that isn't a better being than you? ... Let alone a penguin -- they're fucking nature's clowns, man! You put your robin williams and conans on stage with an emporer penguin, not only will it kick their asses, it will make you laugh harder than you ever have before in your life while it does so. You are a component in an echosphere, and if anything, you should be punished, if not just weeded out. You're probably very lucky that I don't bother thinking about you very much."After finding out their species is well down on the animal totem pole that god uses to judge specks of the echosphere, humans around the world were reported to be, 'thinking about other stuff,' and 'keeping busy.'

NOTE FROM JOHNNY PAIN: Well, I'd say YOU HUMANS have a bit of egg on the old face, today, huh? I am so glad I married into another species, marsupial. I mean, we might go after dogs or something, but man? Like the deity said when asked about when the humans would go, "Not on my fucking watch, that is for sure."

THE PUMPKIN PIMP

This tale occured three days before halloweed, though I could only write about the events once the court proceedings were over. Even now, I am under orders not to 'promote man vegetable love.' Like I would, jeez... All because I happened to stop at a road side farmer's market, and like I told the judge, had the misfortune of accidently running into a vegetable pimp.

He was there in court and I pointed at him as I told the judge, "He was keeping those vegetables on the street all day, and all night, forcing them to keep servicing clients by the usual brutal, horrifying methods of pimpery... "

That damned judge just told me to shut up and my attorney started looking all embarrassed for what seemed like the hundredth time (I assumed this constant uncomfortablness on my attorney's part was caused by some psychological damage that had been done to him by a sarcastic clergyman at an all male secondary school in England, and when I indeed asked him as much to prove my speculation, he answered, "You do think that, don't you?" Which I could only take as an affirmation, of course).

I only stopped at the stand to buy a pumpkin for halloweed related stuff. It was nothing like that veg. pimp said when he testified. The creaky old bastard had the nerve to wear the usual outfit of a vegetable pimp into court-- overalls and a truckers cap, but when I pointed this out to the judge, he had me gagged.

I'll never forget that old fart telling the shocked courtroom, "Now, he came up looking sorta normal... but then he kept rubbing all the squash and moaning. Hell, I thought he was sick to the stomach... Me and Ma didn't even know freaks like this existed. She is still in shock,you know? Can't even get her to cook any vegetable at this point. No, not a one."

Now, none of this happened ... No, I remember this quite different. I went up to the stand and this 'player' was all like, "We got some real hotties here. These bitches been out in the sun all day, geting hot and ready for you."

When he said this, I didn't even know what he was talking about. He could see I was confused, so he started suggestively rubbing the nubile yet rough and ready exterior of a dwarf pumpkin. When I realized what he meant, I was a little insulted that he assumed that I only needed a dwarf pumpkin.... This is also when his wife happened be coming up from the house while on the phone with her daughter, the local mayor, and they both heard me say, "Now, a dwarf pumpkin would barely hold the head of my monstrously large genitilia."

I mean, I never would have said this, let alone loud enough that those neighbors down the way would hear, if I was a vegetable rapist. No, I would keep everthing hushy-hush. On the other hand, when your penis has been declared tiny by someone who has no chance of ever being able to see if you are lying or not, one has to declare their manhood massive, if not outright freakishly large. Everybody knows this... except that damm judge and the jury and of course my lawyer.

I had to lie about everything to M.... I told her that I was going to court for punching out this senior citizen because his walker was taking up too much of the sidewalk, again... She didn't like this one bit, but it was believable, because there have been incidences... and this is a hell of a lot better than trying to explain to her why my pet name for her is Squashy.

Thank dog M. had to work on the court date. I came home from court and told her I had been found innocent, because I payed off a nurses aide to give the complaning party enough kaopectate that he wouldn't be leavingthe toilet this week. I knew if I said something criminal, she would respond with her usual wariness about being charged as an accesory and tell me not to tell her.... and yes, it worked.

The real trick will be convincing her that my campaign to stop the greenhouse effect from being the latest sin of the 'wealthy don't give a fucks' (a campaign I will keep up, until it involves more than spouting a few words) is now evolving into a plan of action, with me going out and picking up garbage along county roads. I added that I should wear a bright color, maybe even orange, and that if I could get enough people to go with me, we might even qualify for a police escort?. SHe seemed to buy all this... we'll see.

Knowing M., she'll do something sneaky like read the paper tommorrow and see that damn mug shot of me -- where I have one eye closed, one half open, toungue half out, long hair inexplicably standing straight up on the sides and top.... they even have some kind of special camera that was able to show my six hours worth of stubble!!! The cop who took the mug show was like a reverse artist -- he had to take like eight pictures before he had one ugly enough to be a mug shot. And of course under tha vile photo will read... GUILTY... CHARGED WITH... VEGETABLE MOLESTATION... TEN HOURS OF COMMUNITY SERVICE IN A VEGETABLE FREE ENVIRONMENT....

They'll probably quote the judge making his assinin remark after the trial, "Hell, if I could, I would keep this freak out of every vegetable aisle in this country. I sure as hell hope he runs from a cop or something on his way home. You hear me sherriff? I said I sure as hell hope...."

What the judge didn't know about the sherriff was that he shook my hand once when no one was around and told me, almost in tears, about the love he had during his teen years, for a small summer squash named ethel, who he had to horrifyingly enough watch rot away....

PENGUINS KICKED OUT OF HEAVEN!!!

Penguins left earth last week in the Rapture, leaving behind despondent, whining humans.

This week, inexpicablly, the birds are back.

When asked to explain, the penguins merely shrugged and continued smoking incessently and staring off into space.

I pretended like I was sicking the dog on this old lady and someone was killed.

Does this make me bad?

I could see this woman's fingers start shaking a half block away from the Ruby, her eyes widening as she came closer to my wolf looking dog -- who was smiling and thus showing a lot of teeth... I practically had to step off the sidewalk, wait until she got her motorized wheel chair up right beside me, and then release Ruby, who is always anxious to run up and kiss and strangers and was indeed pulling at her leash toward the lady, as I screamed, "Kill her boy, kill!!!"


There was this high pitched sceam and blue hair bouncing as she tried to speed off on the ice and lost control, fell over in front a guy on a bike and got run over . . . and then her damn coat got all splashed with blood when the bicyclist's nose was scrapped off on the sidewalk. This is not my fault, and I don't think I should have to pay to clean her damn coat. I mean, I was merely trying to give her a little thrill, you know? Like a roller coaster ride or something like that. She should be thanking me. Tell that to the cops and M..

I had no idea all of this mayhem would occur, and as such, no matter what M. says, I am keeping the video footage that I made... so what if it does make me laugh like 'an evil hyena?' I mean, like I told that damn skeptic, M., -- I only laugh to hide my tears..... Really.You should see this footage.

Did I mention the guy lost his nose? It was laying there on the sidewalk. I walked up and picked it up and told the guy, "I have your nose."M. says I was being thoughtless, but hey -- the guy needed a laugh. By the way, I didn't know he was dead yet, or I wouldn't have wasted the energy kicking him when he didn't laugh at the nose joke.You know, much to my surprise, I just realized that there is actually a lesson to this meandering, memoirish mourning...You see, the bicyclist died and couldn't call M. and get her all upset, or threaten to sue us, or convince that cop that she wasn't senile and had not attacked Ruby while screaming that she was spike the vampire, like I told him... That sorrily deluded officer got so mad that he asked me If I was insane, or just needed an ass kicking. M. did not come to my defense, of course... in fact, she told the cop, "He is insane, but that doesn't mean he doesn't need his ass kicked."

Well, you are probably waiting for the moral of this story.. that would be, if I had it do all over again, I would have saved myself a hell of a lot of hassles by stomping on the old ladies head until her brains squirted out her wrinkly little ears. M. thinks this is would be 'just horrifying.'

When she said this, I was like, "Well, yea, so?"
Turns out, she explained to me, in M speak, 'horrifying' is somehow bad.
"Tell that to George Romero," I told her...

She refused to see the light, just stubbornly held onto her ignorance and still thinks I would be do something 'bad,' by saving us hassles, which is so achingly obviously good....

More Trouble From The Penguins!!!!

TEA PARTY DARLING SARAH PALIN COMES OUT AGAINST TERRORIST PENGUINS!!

Penguins all over the world are spinning in circles so fast that they appear like black and white blurs as they scream again and again, "Oh, the shits with you!' Visitors to zoos across the world responded differently to the odd behavior on the part of the notoriously unruly aquatic waterfowl.

At New York zoo, the cursing penguins were pelted with empty cans of coke and admonished to "put up some amusing antics, or get the hell out." Surprisingly enough, the normally unarmed penguins returned fire with doubled barreled shotguns, taking out large swathes of the crowds gathered in front of their stage, and making for a few tense moments with a swat team before the police force surrendered to the penguins and joined them in their cages spinning around in circles screaming, "Oh, the shits wit ya!!"

When Sarah Palin  heard about the mass exodus of new York's finest to the penguins, she told white reporters, "You know what we have here? We have an animal terrorist event!!! You know, chickens, for some reason, all had it out for my family. Fuck em, and all the birds. We don't need em, not if they're terrorists. And they are -- terrorist animals!!! I won't have this, not on my watch!!!"

The increasingly unstable Sarah Pain who aides and pundits alike are calling, "Maybe too full of herself," is said to now be traveling with three nuclear bombs in her briefcase, in case, 'God tells me to blow stuff up and kill everybody."   The ex-cheerleader  is canvassing the senate and congress today trying to drum up support for her plan to, quote, " . . . take out all the other animals, once and fucking for all. "

Speaking to a shocked group of parents and students at the unveiling of a new wing of Children's Library devoted to the presidents, Palin  told a crowd of quickly crying children, "I've been thinking about getting bit by this squirrel when I was a kid, or at least I'm thinking about it now. Who the hell can tell? And this bird... that fucking bird that messed up the grill on one of the very first cars dad bought me. Well, I wrote in a paper for some damn class about how men had been at war with wild animals since leaving Eden . . . maybe it was a sermon I heard somewhere, a readers digest or some damn thing . . . ."

Still no comment from the penguins. .

Fishing For Winos

Fishing for winos

Now, let's all remember in this Christmas season that it's still fun to be mean and petty to the small and weak. People tend to forget that in December, and this leads to all the rises in crime and suicide that we see during the holidays. To fight this, I suggest doing something mean, like sucker punching midgets, but if this is too much for you, here is another fine way to fight seasonal depression.

Get a ten-dollar bill and tape it, very well, on the end of some fish line. Then, at stop lights, when wino's come up to the window, toss that ten their cup and chat up the guy so he doesn't hassle anyone else for a few seconds, then when the light changes and you are ready to peel off, pull the string and watch that wino's comical face when he sees that ten come flying back in the window. This is fun for the whole damn family, let me tell ya. Sometimes their change goes flying all over and they get hit by a bus or even a couple cars while they are scrambling about trying to save their pennies, but you can't expect this kind of uproarious result every time.

My cat, buk, is the supreme leader of the universe. Who would have thought?

My cat buk is the supreme leader of the known universe

Other than this, he is a perfectly normal cat. Who would have thought?
Yes, one of my cats is at the helm of a federation of all known sentient dwellers of space and time dimensions (they laughed at me when I asked why humans are not one of them, by the way...).

I had no idea Buk wielded such awesome powers with his little furry paws, but then today, out of a gray Chicago sky, a silver, cigar shaped ufo came buzzing down with a loud roar that shook the very bricks themselves as it landed in the courtyard of my building. I went to the window and looked out and saw these strange and bizarre alien creaturespouring out .... And the kitty-bum Buk, who had been, of course, napping, suddenly perked up and started floating around the apartment.

Now, my cats have never floated before. I have even tried to see if they could fly by tossing them up in the air and screaming, "Fly dammit, fly...." Even after they plopped down without the slightest sign of lift off, I remained convinced that they were just keeping it from me--and my shrink said this would change with therapy, that charlatan!!!

Anyways, next thing I know a green guy, with long antennas coming out of his head and bulging eyes on it's fish like face, floats up to our apartment and shoots this ray gun that blasts orange fire at our window, blowing the wooden frame back into the apartment and making my hair, for some reason, stand up straight from my head. They then came into the apartment, floating through the window and settling down on the hard wood floor amidst the broken wood and smashed plaster and broken TV and computer... . They were small, no bigger than a foot tall, so I grabbed the red metal baseball bat that I keep by the door and was getting ready to go at them, when suddenly my cat, the warm little fluff I have petted and fed and cleaned after for ten years, shot out his paw at me and a lightening bolt like ray smashed me back against the wall and paralyzed me with my arms and legs all twisted up behind me. They all laughed at this, too... Buk, the red tiger I thought I knew so well, was then addressed for a few minutes by various aliens, speaking in some weird language of purrs and chirps. When they were done, Buk put his paw print on some kind of slab of marble, and this seemed to end their business because they started to leave...

I was released and fell to the floor with a loud crash. One of them, looking like an orange slug with the wrinkled face of an aging mole, walked up to me at eye level as I lay there in pain, and told me, in a surprisingly deep and gruff voice for one so small, "He didn't think you humans could be trusted with knowing who he is."

"Then why is he here?" I asked as I rubbed a knot on the back of my aching head.

"Earth is known throughout the photons for good napping."
"Oh. Then why are you telling me now?"
"Humans are not intelligence enough to make use of such data. Though he will deny this in his usual way if you try to expose him, because the exposure would surely cut into his napping. Don't mess with his napping."
"What do you mean by that, he'll deny this in his usual way?"
"Arrogant silence."
"I thought that was arrogant silence, but everyone said it was just napping!!!"

When they were gone Buk just laid back down on his black furry pillow and crashed out for a few more hours.

Getting a new book started....

I started working on my new book this summer. I have the basics of the plot, and a good idea of who the characters will be, and the metaphorical underlying message.... My next step is to break the story down into chapters and add a few minor plot twists to keep the action moving. In my last novel, I didn't do this until almost the end of the book, because I believed that somehow my education would just produce a good book if I sat down and wrote. And write I did, for years, thousands if not millions of pages were written and thrown away... In the end, One War is only about 130 pages. It is tight. I really, really, need to send it off again. But, more importantly, I need to get going on my new bo

I am truly going to write this book on line, so if that interests you, follow along... Any comments you can make will be thoughtfully considered.

Okay, here is the basic synopsis of the book...

Four fine arts painter are living in an apartment above a sleazy bar, that was inherited by one of the painters. They keep a web sight, where they publish humor and essays... Basically, they are trying to replace the bible with a moral way of living godless.

This goes along just fine for a few years. They split the bar into two spaces, and open a gallery for their paintings. The apartment is in Wicker Park, on the corner of Milwaukee and Damen, a real party spot that is crowded with characters day and night. Their insular world of just painting and hanging around intellectuals starts to fall apart when a new guy shows up, a painter of talent and well read. He is a big fan of their blog, and wants to come and live with them, basically. They are used to couch surfers and let him stay 'for awhile.'

Jonathon, the new character, is fresh out of prison and violating his parole by leaving Indiana, where he was incarcerated for armed robbery. In prison, being a young man, there were a lot of advances made upon and he indeed did find he was bisexual... he doesn't want the others to know this, let alone that he was raped three times during his stay, forcing him to finally become the 'bitch' of a somewhat vicious black prisoner. He survived the experience by using heroin, drinking mouth wash and cologne; anything to get him high. He also spent a lot of time in the prison library, where he was aloud to surf the net, which is how he first learned about the little collective of artists with a gallery called The Elves Attic.

Jonathon frequently wrote comments and praise on their sight, under the monsieur of, perhaps, Shecky Mellon Head (all of this is subject to change).

The other artists are very interested in crime, and feel like they are responsible for the well being of the customers in their bar, which is a total dive frequented by the neighborhood drunks and punk rocker types who like the juke box, which has hard core metal, punk, industrial; as well as a lot country, the good old stuff by Johnny Cash, Merl Haggard, George Jones... the regulars seldom play the juke box, but when they do of course it is country.

This idea that they have to protect anyone, including animals, who are having problems. This leads them to break up bar fights, stop muggings, etc... But up until Jonathan comes, they manage to do so with a minimum of violence.

Jonathan becomes the catalyst that takes them from just writing about justice and doing the small policing of their corner, which has a game store, carry outs, and small theater; and lots and lots of bars.

One of the people living at the apartment above the bar is not an artist, but a kid who has a junkie mother who is a shelter, where the kid got all of his stuff stolen from him the one night he stayed there. He is a vegetarian, and a great lover of animals, as they all are. The trouble starts when this kid discovers that there are dog fights going on in their neighborhood. They know this because they find a couple dead dogs that are all torn up.

They call the police, and typically, the cops tell them that unless they have evidence, there is nothing they can do. The cop tells them,"We couldn't even break up a dog fight without a warrant, and since they move them around so much, there is little chance of stopping the fighting."

The artists are at a loss as what to do. Jonathan recommends that they shoot up the dog fight, which is run by a local Mexican gang. The other artists think this is a bit much, at first, but Matt, the high school kid who they let stay there, is totally into the idea. The guy who they inherited the bar from, uncle Sal, has a shotgun.

One day Matt sees a gang banger grab a dog off the street, and attacks the gang banger. With the help of Jonathan, they get the dog back. Later that night, as they are painting in the gallery, which can be seen from the street, the gang retaliates. They drive by and shoot up the place, killing one of the artists. The cops don't catch the killers, since none of them saw the shooters.

This is what sets them off... Jonathan begins to relate to the dogs, sees it like innocents being placed in prison. Jonathan and matt kidnap one of the gang bankers and torture him into telling them when the next fight is over. The other artists keep asking Jonathan what he going to do when he is done? Jonathan shocks them all by slicing the guys throat. Chicago cops don't spend much time trying to find out who killed a gang banger, because they always think it is crime related. Their philosophy is basically, "Let them kill each other."

They then go to where the dog fight is, and shoot it up. I am not quite sure exactly who will die in this. The gang bangers will be heavily armed, and definatly fight back hard.

That's it. To a degree. The next step, like I said, is to break everything down into chapters, so I know exactly what prose is needed.



I guess I should begin at the beggining, right?
What follows is a brainstorming session trying to come up with ideas for chapters.

1) a customer comes in the gallery, and one of the artists, Michael, steers her away from his paintings, trying to get her to buy someone else's because he misses them too much when they are sold. During this, Jonathan comes in. He is awed to see the place that he has been reading about while in prison, and meeting the artists. He orders a drink in the bar, then takes a look at the paintings.

2) Jonathan meets Matt and the other artists, and bonds well with them by pulling out some primo bud. Their gallery almost always smells like weed and insence. Jonathan shows them slides of his work, which he keeps at his brothers house in Indiana. Then, to the amazement of all of them, he goes outside on the sidewalk and starts drawing people for five bucks a shebang. He quickly makes a hundred bucks, then walks in and gives ninety bucks to the boys and asks them if he can couch surf for a few days, telling them he'll give them half of what he makes for the privilage.

3) A guy gets beligerant at the bar, and Jonathan beats him up badly. They dump him in the alley, unconscious. The violence he displays shocks the others. Later, Jonathan explains himself, telling them all what he went through in prison, and how he now doesn't take any shit. He has taught himself martial arts, and always carries a knife strapped to his ankle.

4) Paul witnesses a black kid giving a dog to a gang banger, goes home and tells the others. Jonathan says that they probably stole the dog, a boxer, for fighting. This makes them all pissed, and since they know where this gang banger lives, they call the cops. This is when they find out that nothing is going to happen on thier end. Matt becomes obsessed with stopping the dog fighting, and begins following the gang banger, who hangs out selling crack on a corner a few blocks away.

5) Matt witnesses a dog being given to the gang banger and tries to stop the transaction. He is severly beaten. The dog is scared all to hell by the commotion, and his eyes Hurt matt more than his bleeding lips and black eyes.

6) When Matt goes home and the others see how beat up he is, they decide that they have to do something. Jonathan wants to get some automatic weapons and take out the gang banger. This is totally nixed by the others, who feel that they have no right to kill someone.

7) That night, the gang bangers do a drive by and shoot up the gallery, killing Jimmy, who is kind of the neil cassady of the bunch. After this, Jonathan and Matt and Paul and Mike start spying on the gang banger. When they finally see him snatch a dog, they gather their weapons and wait... Two days later, they see the gang banger going out with three dogs. One they recognize as a neighbors.

8) they follow the gang banger to an old warehouse on the south side. The place is filled with gang bangers. Guards at the door have Uzi's, and they are patting everyone down and holding thier weapons until after the fight. Jonathan and Mike take aim at them and shoot them both simultaneously. They take the Uzi's and go in, telling the dog fighters and betters that they are taking the dog and leaving, and that if they find out there is another dog fight, they are going to kill everyone there.

9) Some of the gang bangers still have weapons, the ones who belong to the gang which is holding the fight. They wait until the boys are distracted by the dogs to pull out thier pistols and start shooting. Jonathan fearlessly walks into bullets as he attacks them and kills them. Paul is alson shot, in the stomach, and Matt is hit in the leg. They get out of there,. Paul has them drive by the store, where he shoots up the boards on the windows, to provide an alibni for the shootings (cops are always called when someone goes to the hospital with a bullet wound).

10) They go home, leaving Johnathon's body behind. They drive way up north of town to a hospital, where Matt and Paul are treated, and also interviewed by the cops. They claim that there was another drive by at their store.

11) They go home and find that their dogs are missing. Matt goes to the gang bangers house and just shoots the shit out of the place, gets the dogs, and then goes back to the store. They fill a van up with their paintings and just drive away. They stole the money from the dog fight, too, which amounts to 14 grand or so; a nice bundle for them to start over. They drive off telling themselves that they are going to settle in some small town. Staying in the city is pretty much out of the question because the gang will not stop hunting them.

It is late.... I will need to add some subplots... maybe a woman or two. Hopefully, there will be about twice this many chapters by the end of the novel. My next step will be to write out each chapter in a non-prose like manner, meaning I will simply write the action, and then go back and try to make the words 'sing,' so to speak. An example of what I mean would be

Jonathan appears at the door. The customer is looking at a painting. Mike is talking to her, kind of slamming the paiting she is looking at and steering her toward one of Jimmy's painting. Matt is playing a video game in the back, which is seperated from the gallery only by a cloth hanging of some sort, a painting on cloth, basically. He can hear everything that is happening, and yells out out something like, "Mike hates selling his own paintings... don't listen to him." Paul comes up, and since he is the actual owner of the place, he tends to act more adult than the others. He goes to the customer and takes over for Mike, who Thew girback to his easel to work on a painting. Jonathan is silently twalking around looking at the paintings. From the back, they can all smell weed.