Lyin' Lynda's Not-So-Private Orgasm

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I arrived home yesterday just in time to hear Lyin' Lynda Allen Auntie Lyn hollering her head off most obscenely, while her big, metal middle finger waved and twisted in the air,

"To the left... aaaah... to the left some more... don't jiggle it like that... Oh, yeah!... Right there! uhhh... perfect... Aaaah... Perfect... PERFECT!"

She must have had some damn good stimulation during the day, and the foreplay drove her to the brink as her surveillance camera came to settle... directly on me in my back yard.

Yes, indeed, this demonic parasite got off the only way she can - by forcing her evil spore into someone else's life (mine, in this case.) Just like a blood-swollen, pin-headed tick, she sucks her life from the host, then returns the favor by injecting her virulent toxins. To Lyin' Lynda, this is getting her rocks off, her true release; she only fucks men in the head. (Believe me! we are grateful for that small favor!)

What got her so dripping with excitement, you ask? Covering the day's news provides the answer.

The unsupervised Supreme Generalissimo of the People's Sovereign and Independent Republic of 810 Fishback Street [screw Manteca!] was in full and total control of events. Excitement was palpable in the air. Cork-Screwed scooped up dog shit expeditiously. Roly-Poly Red waddled - as expeditiously as her perpetual internal fog allows - to the marijuana grow sheds to cuddle and croon to "her baby ganga" (fickle bitch, this must be how the six dogs got to be Lyin' Lynda's "babies.") The Generalissimo cracks the whip, they step lively... or at least livlier than Roly-Poly usually steps. No time to waste.

Disappearing bottoms and house dogs

Traffic intensifies. Errands were run quickly. Several cars and a blue pickup go, come, go. We're on a deadline. ("We mus'n't be late for a most important date at the Queen's palace," said the White Rabbit.) Cork-Screwed took off in her car, with a doggie or two. Re-Upholstered Red left in the SUV with another doggie - and just by the skin of her smoke stained teeth.

At 10:09, the precise moment the overloaded ass-end of Rotund Red's truck cleared the driveway, a white pickup entered the driveway and parks, while another white pickup parked out front. The yard dogs were shut up in the Smokehouse.


Third set of "official" Manteca visitors in one week (see also Mar 22nd & 23rd)

10:16 to 10:25 Visitors get the back yard tour. This visit was by appointment, but it gave the mistress of ceremonies her third major opportunity in seven days to regurgitate and wallow in her shop-worn story:
What a clean place they keep, (whited sepulchre; clean outside, dead men's bones inside)
What good service they gave to the people of Tracy, (the trucks were a perfect "distribution" cover)
They were a legally grandfathered business before they quit, (repetition wins? Absolutely disproved)
What good neighbors they are to everyone in the neighborhood, (emo; the neighbors I've talked to say not)
The horrible lies the horrible neighbor tells about them, (emo; I only write observations, truth, or speculations with the highest probability)
See? We have only a couple dogs, (keep Lyin', Lynda; they already have a picture of each one)
We're just poor, helpless, old women who need protection, after all, (emo)
Woe is me... (more emo)

At 10:30 the inspectors leave.

Seventeen minutes later, 10:47, Cork-Screwed and her canine wards return to the compound. Of course, she had to drive up the wrong side of the road past my driveway gate to see if my truck was home.


One camera down (and back up)

Exhibitionist Cork-Screwed doffed her top, sporting her pot belly and training bra, for most of the afternoon, including the spraying of the property by the pest control guy.

...Until a kid in short pants drove up. As soon as his arrival was announced, at 4:20, the shirt went back on. That tells me this kid was a relative, probably the nephew from Modesto, and Auntie Lyn's lover's boobs were a "bad" thing. (This is the ONLY time they have displayed ANY discretion.) They got the kid to do all sorts of shit for them, and even gave him a tour of their holiest shrines, the marijuana sheds.

But the real reason he was there was to swap out surveillance cameras for them. He went up a ladder to remove one camera on the Smokehouse, which was watching their own yard. Then he replaced the camera on the pole, which the BDG's use to watch me and my yard.

He was in the act of maneuvering and twisting the pole, according to Auntie Lyn's screeching directions, to get the best view of her masturbatory fantasy.

Disgusting! Despicable woman! Using her nephew in such a fashion to achieve her own orgasm!

{I need a shower...}
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The Continually Disgorging Cornucopia of Detritus

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C.D.C.D. BDG
(say it fast five times...)

I am flabbergasted! - near to speechless!! - at just how much useless trash treasured trophies three Barefoot Dirty Girls, six dogs, a chicken, and a cat can cram into such a small space. The shanty shed, on its illegal concrete pad, continues to disgorge load after load from the inexhaustible heap of rubbish stored inside it and the Bally walk-in freezer.

Bally freezer, left foreground; shanty shed, right foreground.
Derisively known as Icemaker Corral, home of the ice-chewing dog.
(Pic posted November 12, 2008)

This new-found Spring cleaning fetish is completely out of character for Lyin' Lynda, Re-Upholstered Red, and Cork-Screwed Green. One wonders if, maybe, there's a code enforcement reason behind it? Perhaps a financial reason?...

{brain flash} Wait! Wait! It's a change of heart and they're finally getting ready to move to Oregon?!

Anyway, Cork-Screwed's flashing episode yesterday was, I'm unsure, an expression of... what?... anger, frustration, helplessness? self-loathing, perhaps?... on her own behalf and that of her dominatrices mistresses, Lyin' Lynda and Roly-Poly Red, who were party to the unveiling (assuredly, nothin' those two haven't seen before.) So audacious and incredible was the "in-your-face" presentation that I forgot to review the immediately preceding time frame for their mind-altering drug use.

Lest one thinks this is merely another example of BDG abberant behavior, keep in mind that Cork-Screwed was only mimicking Resectioned Red's own flash and waggle dance on the 16th of January.

- - - - - - - - - -



Red Letter Day -
September 24, 2010

The following posts document the river of trash that - sometimes flooding - slowly flows and eddies through Icemaker Corral:

July 2010 - Sliding number puzzle of trash

Mon, Sep 20, 2010 - yard sale begins

September 2010 - Large appliances removed (to the reconstructed back porch!)

Fri, Sep 24, 2010 - Icemaker removed

Sat, Jan 15 - Budget moving van

Fri-Sat, Jan 21-22 - Pickup and trailer, then another loaded pickup

- - - - - - - - - -

Yup, officer, tha's her, all right.
Hey, she could be a model
for geriatric Lipo-Zapp!

 

Tue, Mar 29 - Pickup load from shanty shed (with gratuitous flash.) Cork-Screwed first staged the detritus for Roly-Poly's inspection and Lyin' Lynda's veto, then they loaded it up and shuttled it off to somewhere else (flea market, maybe?), taking a loaded Playmate cooler along, and returning about seven hours later.

(Poor R/R had to stay home, shuffle dogs, do the laundry, nap, tend the marijuana grow, and toke her joints alone. So sad... so sad... just doesn't have the knobbles for heavy lifting anymore... 'nuther hit...)

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

Wed, Mar 30 - Breaking news.

F Another garbage triage going on this morning.

D Disappearing bottoms and house dogs (vanished before inspectors arrived for appointment.)

L Visitors get the tour (it seems everyone except plaintiff and attorney, as requested.)

K Mosquito breeding pond overturned (after four years.) {idiots!}

J One camera down (most likely only temporary.)


...
Details to follow. Keep your channel set here.
...
Don't touch that dial!

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Cork-Screwed Beats Roly-Poly In Flashing Cameras

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Cork-Screwed Green flips and flops...
Yes? No? ... Yes? No?





New Big Brassey Boobs
"Save Show Those Ta-Ta's"
Will the nightmare never end?




Speaking of nightmares, next thing ya' know, Lyin' Lynda's gonna put some skin in this game - something she's been feverishly dodging from the beginning.



Wha' skin'z he talkin' 'bout?



- - - - - - - - - - - -

See? Really weird things happen when the
Barefoot Dirty Girls and their "friends" get stoned.
That's some crazy shit they're growing and smoking!

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Odd Traffic Patterns (Except For BDG's)

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Tuesday morning, March 22, 2011 - What's better than once? Twice!

The two junkyard dogs are hidden away shut up in the Smokehouse and the four house dogs are all kept outside for a couple hours when the Blue Car Boys come to visit.

10:31 - First visit by Blue Car
10:54 - 23 minutes, first visit ends, Blue Car departs

11:04 - Ten minutes later, Blue Car Boys return for a second visit
11:34-11:54 - 20-minute back yard tour, led personally and exclusively by Lyin' Lynda.
11:55 - 51 minutes, second visit ends, Blue Car departs

During the indoor portions of the visits, Cork Screwed and Roly-Poly Red waffled around out back, doing nothing but wasting time and steering clear. Their shuffling body movements were perfectly clear; standing, pacing, quick circuits of the MJ sheds, peeking in through the screened porch of the house to see if the visitors had gone yet.

We were told... no, uh, never mind.
We're looking for real women to probe.

(You know, most people say a camera puts ten extra pounds on its victims subjects, but with Roly-Poly it looks more like twenty or thirty. Marijuana munchies?)

The fact of the matter is, those two xxxxlickers bootlickers leave all the prevaricating and story-telling to Lyin' Lynda because:

• #1) she is the Alpha Bitch, and
• #2) since 1987 the Alpha Bitch has perfected her outrageous pattern of lies and deceptions regarding nonexistent grandfathered status, illegal TLC Catering business, unpermitted construction, excessive dogs, no garbage cans, "po' little me and po' us'ns," and - since 2007 - the "Mommy, he's pickin' on me!" refrain for every imagined ill that has befallen the Barefoot Dirty Girls since that Neighbor From Hell moved in next door, and
• #3) they absolutely will NOT deprive their Alpha Bitch (the fangs! the big, brassey balls!) of the only way she can get her big brasseys off - and aimed at someone else!

Who's comin'? Who's goin'? Is it my turn yet?

Wednesday morning, March 23, 2011 - What's better than twice? Thrice!

A white pickup, with a number stenciled on the back, made a drive-by before staying for a visit. It arrived in front of the house at 09:54, one minute after one of the BDG's had returned home and rolled the gate closed. Detecting no intelligent life, it drove off a minute later.

It arrived again at 11:35, leaving again 23 minutes later at 11:58. (Contact made, Captain. Confirmed: No intelligent life here.)

The truck returned a third time a half-hour later, at 12:29, and stayed 34 minutes until 13:03. (Bridge to Gunnery: Lock on coordinates. Just nuke the place!)

At 13:17, the BDG's convened an ad hoc meeting out back and first order of business was to adjourn it to the Smokehouse for some massive hits of Sierra High © weed. (Bridge to Gunnery: Belay that last order. The broads are nuking themselves.)


Monday, March 28, 2011 - Driving while impaired... again.

Junkyard dogs in / house dogs out.
...Pick up dog shit.

......House dogs in / junkyard dogs out.

.........Move trash bin contents to trash truck.

............Shuffle dogs.

...............Run an hour-and-twenty errand.

..................Shuffle dogs.
.....................Tend the MJ plants.

........................Shuffle dogs.

...........................Wash out the MJ tubs. 

..............................Shuffle dogs.

What a tiring morning! This work shit is so debilitating, I need a hit! Schlepping 'round and 'round this hellhole really works up an appetite for a huge dose of :

Sierra High © homegrown!

Stretch... stretch... knuckle pop, neck swivel, straighten the Corkscrew. Wait for L/L to wake up from her nap and R/R to come out of her fog.

11:00 o'clock break in the Smokehouse. "Last one in's a dirty yegg!" Junkyard dogs turned out of their quarters. "Close th' winda. Don' care if'n it smells like dog breath and cat piss, it's too cold AND it's letting the secondhand cloud out. Jus' wanna smoke!"

11:59. Wasted clowns burst from the Smokehouse. Hungry, thirsty, L/L downs a soda and tosses the can for someone else to pick up later. "Lunchtime. Gots the munchies bad. Pizza delivered again, or go get it ourselfs?"

12:15 One or more of the BDG's pile in a car, back out of the driveway, and drive off down the street. "Get outta my f'n way! Where you learn drivin'? I learnt 'n Pinole!"

- - - - - - - - - -

And all the potheads say, "Weed don't kill."

Yeah, right.

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Rabbie Burns' "Rhyming Wrath" Bloodies Boneheads

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From fifteen, "When I first committed the sin of rhyme,"
to "Stringing blethers up in rhyme/ for fools to sing."

= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

On Politics, For Candidates

In politics if thou would'st mix,
And mean thy fortunes be;
Bear this in mind - be deaf and blind,
Let great folks hear and see.

(Poem, 1793)

In Manteca, that means acceptable candidates must hold membership in the Good Ol' Boys Club, 'cause those "great folks" run the city for their own benefit.

= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =


"Burns was not fond of civil servants either. He particularly disliked a man called Thomas Goldie, a commissary of the sherriff-court in Dumfries and the President of a right wing political club called 'The Loyal Natives' whose political views were anathema to a democrat like Burns. So he wrote this quatrain about Thomas Goldie's lack of brains and the thickness of his skull!"

Lord, to account who does Thee call,
Or e'er dispute Thy pleasure?
Else why within so thick a wall
Enclose so poor a treasure?

(from "Burns the Improviser", by Robert H. Carnie)


= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

On a local political contest
(with a slight amendment to the intended)

What dost thou in that mansion fair?
Flit, [BDG], and find
Some narrow, dirty, dungeon cave,
The picture of thy mind.


No Stewart art thou, [BDG],
The Stewarts all were brave;
Besides, the Stewarts were but fools,
Not one of them a knave.


Bright ran thy line, O [BDG],
Thro' many a far-fam'd sire!
So ran the far-fam'd Roman way,
So ended in a mire.


Spare me thy vengeance, [BDG]!
In quiet let me live:
I ask no kindness at thy hand,
For thou hast none to give.

(Epigrams Against The Earl Of Galloway, 1793)

= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

On Wat

Sic a reptile was Wat,
Sic a miscreant slave,
That the vera' worms damn'd [her]
When laid in [her] grave;

"In [her] flesh there's a famine,"
A starved reptile cries,
"And [her] heart is rank poison!"
Another replies.

(Epitaph for Walter Riddell, 1794)

Forget Walter Riddell! I think "Wat" is Lyin' Lynda Sue Allen!

= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

Two Poems on Quisling Arrogance

The Toad-Eater

What of [mayors] with whom you have supt,
And of [chiefs] that you dined with yestreen?
Lord! A louse, [lass], is still but a louse,
Though it crawl on the curl of a queen.

(Poem, 1791, Cunningham version, altered)

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Reply to the True "Loyal Natives"
(redirected to those immediate fools, the Barefoot Dirty Girls)

Ye [impugned “Grandfathered,”] attend to my song,
In [drug-hazed conniving] rejoice the night long;
From Envy or Hatred your corps is exempt,
But where is your shield from the darts of Contempt?

(Poem, 1793)

= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

Epitaph On A Noisy Polemic*

Below thir stanes lie [Lynda's] banes:
O Death, it's my opinion,
Thou ne'er took such a bleth'rin bitch
Into thy dark dominion!

(Epitaph, 1784)

* po·lem·ic (n) A person engaged in or inclined to controversy, argument, or refutation. (adj) of or relating to a controversy, argument, or refutation.

= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =


"Burns had another talent that is not so often celebrated, and that is his ability, to compose, 'off the cuff' and apparently without much previous thought, little snatches of verse - two, four , eight or 16 lines - which commemorate, celebrate, or excoriate some event or experience in his own life. ... As he puts it in one of his less well known poetic epistles:"

Some rhyme a neebor's name to lash;
Some rhyme (vain thought!) for needfu' cash;
Some rhyme to court the countra clash
And raise a din;
For me, an aim I never fash;
I rhyme for fun.

(from "Burns the Improviser", by Robert H. Carnie)

= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =



from THE KIRK'S ALARM, A BALLAD.

Calvin's sons, Calvin's sons,
Seize your spiritual guns,
Ammunition ye never can need;
Your hearts are the stuff,
Will be powder enough,
And your skulls are a storehouse o' lead,
Calvin's sons,
And your skulls are a storehouse o' lead.

= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

Letter to Mr. Cunningham

"[To Clarke, the Schoolmaster, Burns, it is said, addressed several letters, which on his death were put into the fire by his widow, because of their license of language.]"

11th June, 1791.


... God help the teacher, if a man of sensibility and genius, and such is my friend Clarke, when a booby father presents him with his booby son, and insists on lighting up the rays of science, in a fellow's head whose skull is impervious and inaccessible by any other way than a positive fracture with a cudgel: a fellow whom in fact it savours of impiety to attempt making a scholar of, as he has been marked a blockhead in the book of fate, at the almighty fiat of his Creator.

= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

My lament and resolve:

Fickle Fortune

Though fickle Fortune has deceived me,
She promis’d fair and perform’d but ill:
Of mistress, friends and wealth bereav’d me,
Yet I bear a heart shall support me still.-


I’ll act with prudence as far’s I’m able,
But if success I must never find,
Then come misfortune, I bid thee welcome,
I’ll meet thee with an undaunted mind.

(Poem, fragment, 1782)

"Prometheus" by Franz von Stuck




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BDG Pict-O-Graph For Manteca

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As of March 2011


I'll bet anyone any amount that Lyin' Lynda Allen and Ravaged Red Brassey did not give any correct background - or tell any truth - to their visitors today.

Even this chart is a simplification, by necessity, because of all the BDG's ancillary illegal spin-offs, such as the remaining noncompliant structures, too many animals, refused garbage pickup, and a hincky solar permit.

(Of course, Yellow, Red and Green are real Wingdings and need no permits to be cunt bubbles ...)


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Brownian Currents in the BDG Fish Tank

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I can understand the attraction of an aquarium. All the little fishies drift about aimlessly; do nothing except eat, sleep and poop; poke into every corner of their confined space in constantly shifting configurations; as close to a macro view of Brownian motion (press Play) as it gets. Very soothing, very relaxing.

Such was the Barefoot Dirty Girls' 810 Fishback fish tank when Spring sprung yesterday - soothingly aimless, as usual.

After another one of their now-frequent long weekends (leaving Friday, returning Sunday), they returned just before noon. (I keep hoping that one of these times they just don't come back.) Just like a professional circus act, the car disgorged the three clownish BDGs, three or four dogs, and required at least three trips between car and house to unload all the treasures and baggage. (It is an interesting observation that when all three march together, Lyin' Lynda leads like an unpedigreed pit bull, egg-shaped Resectioned Red waddles side-to-side furiously in the contrail, and the bow-legged, pot-bellied Corkscrewed Cow Pie picks up the rear[s].) They certainly do cast a "professional" aura.

- - - - - - - - - -

I'm sorry... I'm just so used to thinking of these venomous bitches as cartoons that I forget to humanize them (as much as is theoretically possible) for you, the more gentle, sensitive, undamaged reader. Anyway, here as they really are:


source (and more )





(click pic for source)

 Of course, the highest priority for these space cadettes was immediately to ensure the life support systems environmental health and safety of their  valuable cash crop  precious "medicinal" dope plants.

After all, they had not been able to bestow their own special brand of TLC on their special herb twice daily for two-and-a-half days.

Mary, Mary, quite contrary,
how does your garden grow?
Hydrophonic, ultra supersonic,
or does it growww... naturally slow?
(lyrics in "Ganga Babe," by Spearhead)

Then true Brownian motion set in...

For the rest of the afternoon and evening, the BDG's wandered around... and around... and around... constantly wandering.... They looked like they had lost something... (besides their minds).... They poked and sniffed every corner of their property, looking high and low, searching... they even stood around staring up into the sky... wandering off singly, or in all combinations of two out of three...

Several times they grouped together as all three Members of the Holy Fish Trinity, zig-zagging around their fish tank confines, Red and Green in the Yellow Queen's tow.

The whole afternoon was a condensed and refined version of the Sliding Numbers Puzzle they performed last summer with all their trash. At the rate they were going, it's no wonder they get the munchies (besides the pot smokin'... jus' sayin'....)

The oddest thing in the BDG fish tank yesterday, however, was instead of their regular 30-60 minute marijuana sessions with a few hours in between, it seemed they hit the Smokehouse every couple hours from the time they arrived until dark. Lunging, smoking... dodging, smoking... reeling, smoking... they acted like they really, REALLY wanted to get as high as possible. That, of course, made it even funnier to watch the THC-intoxicated Roly-Poly Red, or Lympy Lynda, or Curly Corkscrewed, as they bobbled and weaved from Smokehouse to main house for pee-pee breaks.

Yes, indeed, the signs of Spring are here!

'Course, this is California; Spring only last a few weeks (it withers slower than a BDG brain on dope.)

Yes, that IS Yellow's normal expression. ("Duh... what?")

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Trash v. Garbage

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Listen, male sex object, no f'n TLC from us!
We want weed... and we want it NOW!


My attorney tells me the BDG's are howling and barking again, refusing to produce discovery items in the civil lawsuit and, in general, just being their normal horrible, bitchy selves. (Maybe they should smoke more of their head case "medicine"... oops, maybe that's the problem?!)

Before the hearing on April 20th, I'm putting some housecleaning items back on the record to show that the central question in the Motion for Summary Judgment is most definitely ripe for decision.

Here is the letter going out today to the City of Manteca. The letter gathers together an assortment of lies, errors, and ignorances on the parts of Lyin' Lynda Allen, Big Brassey Boobs, and several Catatonic City departments.

(Happy St. Patrick's Day!)
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

City of Manteca
Mr. Pinkerton, City Manager
1001 W. Center Street
Manteca, CA 95337

March 17, 2011

Re: Deficiencies at 810 Fishback Street

Dear Mr. Pinkerton,

In February 2010 my neighbors gave up the illegal business use of their property, prompted no doubt by my civil lawsuit against them. The use was abandoned and their claim of legal designation was rescinded by the City of Manteca. (See attachment A, letter of December 15, 2010.) There remain four unresolved points with the owners and the property, three of which are directly tied to this rescinded use, and all of which are under City of Manteca jurisdiction.

1. Restore solid waste collection (Solid Waste & Finance Departments)

Some years prior to June 21, 1996, the owners of 810 Fishback Street ceased paying for refuse pickup, subsequently claimed grandfathered business use, and in 2000 were exempted from the municipal service. The City has lost thousands of dollars. Now that the business use has ceased, as noted above, the property must be restored to the municipal solid waste collection program, as are all other residences in this city. (See attachment B, Case Sheet for MS-34246, filed June 21, 1996.)

I request a copy of the Court’s orders for the exemption from the City’s files, or from the exempted owners. If such orders cannot be produced, then restoration of service is required.

2. Too many animals/dogs/cats (Animal Control & Code Enforcement Departments)

Among my neighbors’ first assertions in 2007 was their claim that their many dogs served to protect their business assets from thieves; specifically, food stored in their several outdoor refrigeration appliances. Even if their business use claim was valid, the Municipal Code still only allows for three dogs/cats on a residential lot.

For eighteen months I have tried to get Animal Control to reduce the dog count on the parcel, from six, to three or less. Animal Control now claims they have referred the complaint to Code Enforcement. (See attachment C, cover letter only, March 3, 2011 to Code Enforcement Department.)

3. Illegal construction still houses former business assets (Building Inspection & Code Enforcement Departments)

In December 2009 I notified the City of Manteca of certain noncompliant structures used in the business on the neighboring property. Deficiencies noted were/are: no permits for the poured concrete foundations; zero setback from the wooden property line fence; wood-destroying water drainage from both the noncompliant structures and the business appliances housed within. Some of the business appliances are now gone, but the noncompliant structures remain. (See attachment D, Request # 329034, December 29, 2009.)

Code Enforcement’s response started with: “Structure was in place at the time the city annexed the property.” That is untrue. The neighbors poured the concrete pads specifically to physically support the weight and vibrations of the various commercial appliances they installed during their “official” - and illegal - business expansion in 1993-94, well after the 1986 annexation. Further enclosure work took place after 2007.

4. Highly irregular building permit for solar electric system (Building Department)

The reputed owners of the photovoltaic system erected under permit 04-143, issued 4/28/04, were Roger and Flora Stewart of 786 Fishback Street. (See attachment E, Application and Inspection Record.) Unfortunately, Roger had died a year earlier, on 4/10/2003, age 87; his wife, Flora, died 10/29/2005, a year after the system’s installation, at age 83.

I am the current owner of 786 Fishback Street. My three questions are:

Why was the project built on a non-owner parcel (222-11-003 instead of 222-11-002)?

How did this 82-year-old woman get suckered into lending her name to her neighbor’s project?

How did the City of Manteca excuse such a lapse, or condone such a fraud, in the permitting process?


I am committed to seeing this property rehabilitation completed, for reasons I have repeatedly relayed to you since my first letter on March 5, 2008 (not attached.) Those reasons are grounded on the rationale stated in this 1954 court opinion, which should be the first commandment of all zoning and enforcement officials:

“Footnotes, note 2. ‘It has always been assumed that non-conforming uses would gradually eliminate themselves from the district in which they exist if they were not permitted to expand. Such has not proven to be the case. They not merely continue to exist, but to send down deeper roots. They become clear monopolies and special privileges. Their existence is a continual threat to the conservation of property values in the districts where they exist. The time has come when cognizance should be taken of this situation and provision made, probably in the state law, whereby non-conforming uses may be gradually eliminated under some equitable method of procedure.’ [Citation]” (emphasis added) [Los Angeles v. Gage, 127 Cal. App. 2d 442 (Cal. App. 1954)]

The above is for legal land uses. Reason dictates that there is need for action, not discussion, because the subject land use is/was noncompliant (illegal) from the outset and, unchecked for twenty-three years, sank several “deeper roots” that need killing.

Sincerely yours,

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Neither the BDG's nor their business, TLC Catering, were ever grandfathered,
so why are they still exempt from city garbage pickup?

.

Lowbrow Art: Final Part: David Lozeau: Dead On

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One Foot On The Banana Peel!

Everyone Crawls Under This One's Skirts
safely protected by a mouth more vicious than a junkyard dog(s) bite

From Kitchenware to Hardware
Please, please, just don't flash the cameras no more!



This Ensemble Sure Beats the "Summer Uniform"
of khaki shorts, sports bra, boots... and jelly pot belly?!

They Even Drag Their Damn Chickens To Hell!

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Various Loungers, Hangers-On and Bit-Part Players

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

City of Manteca's Code Enforcement
and Animal Control Departments

City of Manteca Police Department

Manteca's Mayor (ex-Police Chief)

aka, The Plumber-Crack

Fulltime Foreign-Language-Speaking
Handyman and Boy-Toy

Getting A Friend To Hang Out As Bait

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Looking Forward to the (Immediate?!) Future

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(source of these fantastic - and hopefully prophetic - images by David Lozeau.)
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Lowbrow Art: Part 2: Ana Bagayan: Delayed Development

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Delayed Development Plagues Puerile Players

"Impossible-To-Silence Lambie"

The Loud-Mouth's junior high yearbook picture.
(source)

Queen of Kitchenware

contemplates slicing and dicing her future as
Sous-Chef de Roach Coach(es)
(source)

Southern belle

playing with large, squishy, smelly things shaped like dog turds.
(source)

We Be Grandfathered, {Dummies}

Consumate illusionist and her puppet, "Raggedy Ann," put on a
soporific ventriloquist act for dummies City of Manteca officials.
(source)



Concocting Conjuring up Developing a business plan

Pullulating* with vitiated** fecundity***, the trio gathers under a gazebo
to foster their lie , using an ouija board and Mary Jane.
(source)

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* pullulate (intr v) teem, swarm, breed rapidly or abundantly [from Latin pullulāre to sprout, from pullulus a baby animal, from pullus young animal]

** vi-ti-ate (verb used with object) 1. to impair the quality of; make faulty; spoil; 2. to debase; corrupt; pervert; 3. to make legally defective or invalid; invalidate: to vitiate a claim.

*** fecundity (n) productivity, readiness to bear

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Lowbrow Art: Part 1: Mark Ryden: Beginnings

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The Angel of Meat

Patron saint of butchers, food stamp welfare cases,
and catering truck drivers

(Moreover, she gave TLC to three very really special children!)



The first belle infant trains to drive a dog cart
and handle large, slimy, squishy, nasty things.

The South has gargantuan bugs,
which are sometimes used in transportation.



The second brat trades her soul for the first catering truck she sees.

Sixty years later, she still insists on maintaining a collection of them in her yard.
(Prob'ly be buried in one... jus' sayin'...)



The third - a true "artiste" - routinely practices her
creative skills with imagination and sensitivity.

For instance, she can't stand anything with testicles.

The visions from the Angel of Meat become their live's only desire.

Well... that, plus their ball-breaking obsession!



Close call!

Or, was it just the trio's early experimentation with hallucinogens?
Good thing the Angel of Meat was watching over them.

 

The Fateful Punk/Goth Girl Gang
Destined to spread their perverted vision of TLC.




The New Angels of Meat


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Images' source: Mark Ryden website
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General note:

Lowbrow art, as opposed to highbrow or fine art, is variously described as "cartoon-tainted abstract surrealism" or "pop surrealism." No matter the words used, Ryden's use of the medium is richly expressive of how certain girls went horribly wrong.

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Dispute Between Neighbors Leads To Gunfire

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Gunfight at the Not-So-OK Corral

Damn digital guns!
(source)

This post has the same title as the second story in this e-newsletter received from Bob Barzotta, author of the book, Neighbors From Hell, and owner of the website of the same name.

Old-fashioned celluloid guns were much more effective!

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