Barefoot in Hell's Kitchens: Frequent Impalements

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source:

Barefoot in Hell's Kitchens:
Frequent Impalements

[1]
Reviewing the Animus, the Actively Scamming-Us,

Of Vile Neighbors- Lying, Horrendous;

The Blathering, Dawdling and Stupidly Twaddling

Of Corrupted Manteca's Officious;

[2]
Jack Courts, and Jill Judges, Stuft Lawyers (the Fudges),

F'd Up Beyond All Recognition (FUBAR).

If This Is to End, Please, God, Quickly Send

Fire and Brimstone or, At Least, a QWATUR.

= = = = = = = =

[3]

A morning to die for! Another clubbed gopher!
This daybreak is my cup of tea.
God, I wish the same for my southerly neighbor
And then I would truly be free.

[4]

The setting to tell this story 'bout Hell
Is Manteca, a small bad-ass town,
Where bullshit runs deep, slows things to a creep;
Its odor is hard to keep down.

[5]

Be warned at the fore there are arms, legs galore
And more shit to spread thickly around;
Fat cats, and their knobs, and wee Pinole cobs,
Contribute the loud brassey sound.

In her own words:

[6]

"Our company's called TLC."
[A falsehood from A clear through Z.]
"That grandfather bloke
Was dreamt up to cloak
Our bare-assed il-le-gal-i-ty."

So said, we now resume the narrative:

[7]

Despite the loud screeches of Three Rabid Beaches,
This business was simply not legal
To have in their yard– nor the mobile home, ‘tard!-
TLC? No! but pretensions were regal. (*1)

[8]

Their visages mousy and roach coaches lousy,
Where dogs, cats, and chickens all shat,
Round Red and Skin Green both kissed up the Queen,
Sold her dope to put coins in the hat.

[9]

Short, stumpy Red's dumpy, the picture of frumpy,
Blessed with half of a keen half a brain;
She cooks; she hooks; her dishwater looks
Mere bubbles as she swirls down the drain.

[10]

The smallest of packages, the biggest of lackages
And the shrillest of keening high vocals,
The prime BDG (*2), "Hear me, but don't see,"
L/L (Lyin' Lynda) scares all the piss out of locals.

[11]

The deliberate horrors of these ice-pimping whores
Caused the Stewarts an early demise;
The complete lack of sleep kept their depression deep.
All for chorros, burritos, and fries?

Another word?

[12]

"Aboon them a', thee skelpit twats!
Thegither we be thrivin';
They be nae pintles t' gar us loup,
But damn braw triple rivin'!"

Pardoning that unfathomable ejaculation...

[13]

Should you ever get stuck ‘hind a catering truck,
Please know that they simply are cooled
With buckets of ice, dog slobber and mice;
Beware the street drain! Don’t be fooled.

[14]

Midnights were nice... 'cept for crashing of ice
Into five-gallon white plastic buckets!
The icemaker hummed, then it squealed and it thrummed,
While "Lil Brother" did doggie snout dunk-its.

[15]

Deliveries at six- and at four in betwixt-
At eleven, the Darling grease monster;
Truck trips quite a few to Costco: "Yoo-Hoo!
We need sodas and that doggie food - Chompster."

[16]

Great barrels of grease; trash stacked to the trees;
The whole story strains one’s disbelief.
To ask it, to sigh it, to pine for some quiet
Became number one goal for relief.

[17]

One big piece of flotsam– the ancient, loud Scotsman–
Lyin' Lynda's most precious sex toy;
'Til it lost its Freon... and juice wouldn’t stay on...
Her flaccid, deflated life joy.

[18]

The fridges, the freezers, all six canine sneezers,
Shared space with the vast fleet of trucks
Cramped onto the lot, where they really ought not;
A false catering front for the schmucks.

[19]

Back to droppings bovine, which are 'specially divine
‘Round that place which is called City Hall,
Where po-lice, and fire, and more thugs for hire
Each has his/her well-padded stall;

[20]

Just fork in the tax! The chiefs start to relax
And the milk lets down inside their udders.
But call and complain, and you’re met with disdain;
Per-spi-cu-i-ty (*3) brings on them full shudders.

[21]

Ambrose (*4) did confer (and I- hell, yes!- concur)
His tragically funny description
Of Planning's, Enforcement's, obstructive deportments
And their earned- well-deserved!- malediction.

[22]

To them: What’s the law? Just something to gnaw-
No reason to rush into action;
All that noise nuisance stuff is surely enough
To induce gross adverse stu-pe-fac-tion (*5).

[23]

For twenty-three years the icemaker jeers
And the spoutings of shrill Lyin’ Lynda
Made her protestation of true annexation
The big lie of a dried up, old spinsta’.

[24]

The resident _unts pulled some stupid-ass stunts,
Like growing Sierra High © weed,
And parking more toys, and making more noise
Than anyone ever should need.

[25]

Such was the case when brought to the place
Where councils, in all their great wisdom,
Are to hear out each side and– just maybe?!- decide
To enforce their own city’s provision.

[26]

Mister Oleander spoke goose and spoke gander,
Couldn’t seem to at all get a fix.
Among all the rest, if he is the best,
This parochial town’s run by hicks.

[27]

The Decibel Man kept harping old plan
Replaced by him just the year prior.
He got Rex-O-Saurus to join in his chorus;
They threw city law in the fire.

[28]

Just kicking the can, the verbose Milk Man
Spun great webs of airy, fine words.
Yet still, in the end, his will made a bend;
His vote plopped!… just like great milk cow turds.

[29]

Quite late, some attorney wheezed sounds from his gurney
And roiled the mud up right royal;
His fork’d, serpent tongue first flapped, then it stung.
Our tax money made sure he stayed loyal.

[30]

So on to the Mayor, who tried to use prayer
To usurp his namesake, Holy Willie (*6).
His odorous rants (through the seat of his pants)
Made his sucrose orations sound silly.

[31]

Assigning old blame is this council's game-
Not fixing the final solution.
With a genius motion (a fresh hemlock potion)
They washed their hands– causing pollution.

[32]

What low-down, lily-livered, yellow-bellied hounds!
There wasn’t e’en a woman among them
To stand for the right and remove the blight,
Their supposed modus operandum.

[33]

Ah, yes, ain’t it nice? They give free advice,
Which is sure to be worth every cent.
They smirk, fart, and snort, “Take L/L to court.
Our political mojo’s not spent.”

[34]

With research compiled and first papers filed,
A lawsuit was thus set in motion.
The evil return? An eighteen month burn-
A LOUD increase in backyard commotion!

[35]

We now meet two charmers, paid beagles from Farmers,
Who came on the drear reservation
Espousing a claim of righteous domain-
Held solely in imagination;

[36]

Blind shareholders must put way too much trust
In these goons who give no thought to rules.
If there is a buck these fools can muck,
Then there go our rights, lives, and tools.

[37]

Oh, retaliation! L/L’s new installation
Of radio, speaker and wire,
Was the bitch’s bright notion (her full term abortion)
Of which she seemed never to tire;

[38]

Every morning at seven, this musical maven,
Blear-eyed, slithered out to her shop;
Without fail the witch would toggle the switch
And fill each new day with her slop.

[39]

Tell me it warn’t so?! Yes, ma’am, I do trow
That fake rock and her head looked the same;
They both had a mouth that suffered no drought,
And the points on the tops very plain.

[40]

On Easter of ’10, this fart-for-brain hen
Turned her radio up, then departed.
The cops came at noon, heard the notes and the croon,
And ticketed the noise that she started.

[41]

With the city fast sinking in red ink- and stinking [bullshit]-
I stood for a council election;
But the voters all said, Pile more on our head,
And they made their olfactory selection.

[42]

So, four years of more what went on before.
The people have begun to falter
While Manteca brass gets office-chair ass;
The cows will fit horses to halter.

[43]

The summer was hot; the music was not;
Played constantly to beat the bands.
Yet Joaquin and Alex (*7), dogs Castor and Pollux,
Let the speaker slip right through their hands.

[44]

With cameras up high to blanket the sky,
The Dirty Girls spied on their neighbor.
A calendar quarter he suffered disorder
‘Til his own eyes returned their fell favor.

[45]

That got the old goats- they practically choked!-
Cranked their music up and started toking.
The returning cop said the music must stop
And informed them their rap sheet was smoking. (*8)

[46]

With impotent flailing, they tried to go sailing
With big tarps and some very tall timbers
To block direct view of the shit that they do.
Winter winds blew those masts into splinters!

What Lyin' Lynda really means to say:

[47]

“Our aim’s to provide some strange weed
To the sickly-- (and those in sore need.)
A big toke or two-
Flush brains down the loo.
No refunds on claims of bad seed.”

[48]

“Hey, we got drug business to run;
Kill you all without use of a gun–
Not body, but spirit-
And don’t you dare queer it!
(We do that with ourselves, just for fun. ;-) )”

Getting on with it...

[49]

Thought they had learned, but their baked weed-brains burned
And their cameras stayed still in place–
Until one went, "Crack!" ("We’re under attack!")
Taken out by a BB gun ace.

[50]

L/L screeched! Ear-split pishing! Off'cer "Herb" came a-fishing
With camos, guns, search warrants, O' me!
An hour they toss for gold, but get dross,
On the say-so of Ass-bay-yawwwn-ee.

[51]

The judge and DA met most of a day
To cipher if they had a clue.
Their final conclusion: gross mental contusion (*9).
So, what’s the infraction? Who knew?

[52]

On Easter ’11, the twits rooossse up to heaven
(At least, they’re not found on the earth!);
No more cackling voices; Mom Gaia rejoices,
But naught can repair their scorched turf.

[53]

A nephew called Bubba, and his hot hubba-hubba (*10),
Moved into the departed’s place.
Much traffic is showing the MJ’s still growing-
L/L's business still running apace.

[54]

Tick-Tock! Tick-Tock! The BDG’s clock
Musta’ rung, ‘cause they came back (!) on time
To stay HIGH... on top of their herbal cash crop,
Which the dopers all claim’s not a crime.

[55]

They came back, the old haunts, looking gray, looking gaunt,
With their hangers-on, tough red-necks all,
For Cork-Screwed’s old trailer, that neighborhood failure,
To set up for the next small town’s fall.

[56]

The lawyers all say that, real soon, some day,
This suit must slip out of its traces;
The Beaches skedaddled, with the queerest death rattle,
To save their Medusa-like faces.

[57]

Save face! Save face! The plague of the race,
A vile, insipid invention.
Man up to the sneers, the cat-calls, and jeers;
Be glad, at least *negative* attention...

[58]

Order established– and all five books published-
One illegal land use now ended.
But here we are, stuck, with stinky bad luck-
The "grow hydroponic" well tended.

[59]

There is nothing mystical about the logistical
Arrangements to move all that weed-
Simply alternate weeks- swap filled trucks with the freaks
Who sell dope for the BDG's greed.

[60]

A simple deception (that's L/L's perception),
Just like the fake property swap.
Real hard to pin down as she drives a new town
Still slinging her hash. ("Jus' cain't stop!")

[61]

So, what of that co-op, school mom, school pop,
With an AWOL Manteca narc squad?
The law is an ass when it comes to queer grass.
P’rhaps the school board will give it the nod?

[62]

Thus ends the foul war that I early had swore
Would wage red hot until I prevail;
Some storms, some clouds; at last, the death shrouds
'Cross her ugly, small life. Back to Hell!



Back To Hell With You!

 [63]
The prime use of land and the particular brand
Of the BDG’s pot, I’m remanding.
It’s now between God and the Manteca sods;
They can flip for jurisdictional standing.

[64]

{God: Gimme a QWATUR.}
{Manteca: F’ you! We stole it fair and square.}

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

Footnotes:

(*1) TLC Catering - what does it mean? The TLC could stand for many things, but the acronyms with perfect applicability are:

Three Lying __unts.
or
Thievin', Lyin', Cheatin' __unts.

See this post for a more full exploration of the subject.

(*2) Barefoot Dirty Girls (BDG’s): Name obtained from a customer complaint, recorded by Environmental Health Department catering truck inspectors in the field on 7/19/1999. (It is incredulous to imagine any - or all - of these bitchy broads being called “girls.”)

“Both girls are dirty, but one is very dirty–
does not wear shoes and feet are black with dirt.”

• ALPHA bitch: Lynda Sue Allen, from Pinole, CA. Appropriately known as Lyin' Lynda; a.k.a. L/L; a.k.a. Auntie Lyn (self-styled.)
• BETA bitch: Theresa Ann "Red" Brassey, a redhead from San Leandro, CA; a.k.a. Rotund Red, Roly-Poly Red, Resectioned Red, and all other appropriate descriptors that start with the letter "R."
• GAMMA bitch: Cornelia Jane "Corky" Green, from the "southerly" side of some rock; a.k.a. Guts[y] Green (for her prominent muffin-top); a.k.a. Skin Green (for her compulsion to exhibit her belly-flab.)

(*3) Per'-spi-cu'-i-ty (n) Clearness or lucidity, as of a statement. Synonyms: 1. clarity, plainness, intelligibility. 2. transparency. 3. derived from a Latin word meaning “to see through,” i.e., clearness of style or exposition, freedom from obscurity. Antonyms: dimness, opacity.

(*4) Ambrose Bierce (1842-1914.) An American journalist and author; a contemporary of Mark Twain. Here is his Devil's Dictionary entry for Commonwealth, in describing a government entity:

COMMONWEALTH, n. An administrative entity operated by an incalculable multitude of political parasites.

.
This commonwealth's capitol's corridors view,
So thronged with a hungry and indolent crew
Of clerks, pages, porters and all attachés
Whom rascals appoint and the populace pays
That a cat cannot slip through the thicket of shins
Nor hear its own shriek for the noise of their chins.

On clerks and on pages, and porters, and all,
Misfortune attend and disaster befall!

May life be to them a succession of hurts;
May fleas by the bushel inhabit their shirts;
May aches and disease encamp in their bones,
Their lungs full of tubercles, bladders of stones;
May microbes, bacilli, their tissues infest,
And tapeworms securely their bowels digest;
May corn-cobs be snared without hope in their hair,
And frequent impalement their pleasure impair.

Disturbed be their dreams by the awful discourse
Of audible sofas sepulchrally hoarse,
By chairs acrobatic and wavering floors-
The mattress that kicks and the pillow that snores!

Sons of cupidity, cradled in sin!
Your criminal ranks may the death angel thin,
Avenging a friend whom I couldn't work in.
..........................K.Q.

(*5) Stu'-pe-fac'-tion (n) 1. the state of being stupefied; stupor. 2. overwhelming amazement or astonishment.

(*6) Holy Willie's Prayer, by Robert Burns

[sixth stanza]

O Lord, Thou kens what zeal I bear,
When drinkers drink, an' swearers swear,
An' singing here, an' dancin there,
Wi' great and sma';
For I am keepit by Thy fear
Free frae them a'.

(*7) Foreign language speaking handymen; also doubled as radio-playing yard guards during the BDG's absences.

(*8) Black Beetles in Amber (A Celebrated Case), by Ambrose Bierce.

...
The Judge on the bench he looked awfully stern;
The District Attorney began to attorn;
The witnesses lied and the lawyers--O my!--
Sing too-ral, i-oo-ral, i-oo-ral, i-yi.

The chap that defended her said: "It's our claim
That he loved us no longer and told us the same.
What else than we did could we decently do?--
Sing too-ral, i-oo-ral, i-oo-ral, i-oo."
...

(*9) Con-tu'-sion (n) Injury (to tissue), usu. without laceration; bruise.

(*10) Purely literary license as to the "hot" part.

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

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Motion For Summary Judgment - On File 52 Days

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Paparazzi could never get enough of this darling
in her endless yester-decades (...without clothes, makeup or wig here.)
Not bad spelling for a Pinolean, either.
A faithful image, with only a slightly amended greeting,
from this source



- - - - - - - - - -

For anyone out there still vaguely interested in whether the so-called "Justice System" is still alive... or has given up the ghost to congestive organ failure... or has merely faded away into ineffable irrelevancy... or simply dried up and blown away in the dust bowl of California's insolvency...

press this button

to get an update on the case still pending.

(Or try clicking here.)

Notice that the Plaintiff's Motion for Summary Judgement was filed on January 14th, 2011. The defendants had thirty days to file an answer (or 35 days, or 40 days, depending on which end of the ass is braying the loudest). Needless to say, all deadlines, all mailing allowances, all possible extensions of deadlines, and all possible extensions of mailing allowances have passed into eternity.

The stack of papers pictured is a twin to the stack filed with the court and served on the defendants in support of the motion. Here are links to the actual .pdf documents:

Amended Pleading (see Third Cause of Action)
MSJ-01 - Notice of Motion
MSJ-02 - Plaintiff's Motion For Summary Judgment
MSJ-03 - Memorandum of Points and Authorities
MSJ-04 - Plaintiff's Separate Statement of Undisputed Facts
MSJ-05 - Declaration of Richard Behling, Plaintiff
MSJ-06 - Declaration of Benjamin Cantu
MSJ-07 - Declaration of Arthur Barnes

- - - - - - - - - -

Do Farmers Insurance, Lyin' Lynda, or Resectioned Red give a shit?

See for yourself.

(BTW, don't be put off by the facial hair, she's been too busy puffin' to shave.)

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Sierra High School Scores Touchback on BDGs

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This is the follow up to last week's communication with the Manteca Unified School District.

Monday morning this email arrived from MUSD HQ:
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

From: Jason Messer

Sent: Monday, August 30, 2010 11:23 AM
Subject: RE: Sierra High School v. Marijuana Farm

Good morning Mr. Behling,


Thank you for bringing this issue to my attention. Student safety is, and will continue to be our number one priority. I have already asked staff to make contact with the Manteca Police Department and also to report back to me the current status of the situation and how we will be addressing the issue. As student safety is important to all of our Board Members I will be sending them a hard copy of your email on Friday. Not all Board members have active email accounts so they may not have received your original email. Again, thank you for your email.

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

Tuesday morning, I heard from another board member. Other activity took place that day and Wednesday, and on Thursday morning comes this, in an email forwarded by Clara Schmiedt [cschmiedt@musd.net].

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
From: Susan Pearson
Sent: Wednesday, September 01, 2010 1:28 PM
Subject: RE: Sierra High School v. Marijuana Farm


Great News – Our SRO, Eva, already met with the narc officers. They have already gone to the site and informed the homeowner of the new laws that just went into effect. They gave the property owner two weeks to totally enclose his [her] operation, per the new law. It has been assigned Case # 10-24475.


We will physically check the back of school in two weeks to make sure no marijuana plants are visible. By the way, the law now allows for the growing of 50 [?]* plants for medicinal purposes, but they must be enclosed in a structure.


Thanks, Eva!!


SIERRA HIGH SCHOOL
Susan Pearson, Principal
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

One more nail in the TLC / BDG coffin. {Strike up the band with the Beatles', "We All Live In a Yellow Submarine" ... or next to it.}

Perhaps that's why the Barefoot Dirty Girls' attorney called, also Thursday morning, to say his clients were selling the house [really?!] and moving to Oregon. Really?! If they don't, then their attorney is party to their lie - but that should come as no surprise to anyone. Besides, there is still the other illegal fenceline shed, the walk-in, the icemaker, all the vehicles, and other s**t that needs to be removed or demolished before that property is saleable.

When the big moving trucks
Pull away from the house,
Leaving naught but a crumb
E'en too small for a mouse...

Then I will believe...


They are finally gone.






My instruction to my attorney? Hold steady on course; the fat lady (not Guts[y] Green) is just warming up.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
* People v. Kelly, California Supreme Court, January 2010, disposed of numerical limits in the law, so where this new number came from is unknown [to me].
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Game-Playing By Farmer's Insurance

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Latest Bombshell!

"Well, here’s the bombshell: [Gorfang 1.3.6] players will have the capability to play as both Order and Destruction on the same server. Warhammer has a lot to offer between Order and Destruction and we want to give you the opportunity to experience all of WAR with a single account while still maintaining ties to the community of your home server. We’re aware of the possible downsides (such as cross-realming [Oh, horror! see picture above!]) and we’re aware that people have a lot of realm pride, which we believe is very important."

I guess trial lawyers run all of Farmer's Insurance departments because another lateral pass has been made, this time in their Adjusting Department.

• Ravaged Red's and Mellow Yellow's homeowner's claim has been reassigned to a new adjuster (probably just the next desk over in some Farmer's Podunk Agency office.)
• The chap, who has a cell number originating in Merced, California, of course knew nothing about the claim even though he placed a call to my attorney. (...or, maybe he does know but is doing a damn good job of playing dumb.)
• He kept tap dancing to that tired old tune, "Reservation of Rights," also known as, "Cross-Realming Ass-Covering For Insurance Companies." (If you think politics is crooked, try finding out the rules by which legalized gambling (ie., insurance companies) play!)
• Actually, he was difficult to understand because he used his cell phone speakerphone. (He never declared if anyone else was listening.)
• The gist, however, was his constant repetition that his employer has a "duty to defend" a policyholder where damages are being litigated. (That is bullshit because the insurance company can and will deny such damages claim when the issued homeowner's policy in question clearly excludes business uses and illegal activities on the property.)
• There is absolutely NO good, profitable reason for Farmer's Insurance to continue paying defense counsel fees. (The only reasons for persisting are all unprofitable and most likely based on supposed friendships. Is this any way to run a business? Are you Farmer's shareholders taking note?)

Why a "new" adjuster is calling us (or, my attorney) this late in the lawsuit is a puzzle for now but, like every other idiotic maneuver by the Barefoot Dirty Girls, it will come out in the wash.

Whatever other motive, this is game-playing, wherein the "new guy" is allowed more time to "come up to speed" before again conferring with the Legal Dept regarding the "possibilities" of changes regarding footing the bill for defending this policyholder under the terms of the issued policy. Farmer's Insurance has already squandered had fifteen months trying to figure out the particulars of this simple case - and now they want more time? As a company, either they are very stupid and wasteful and not very good at their job, or they are cunningly, schemingly clever - as any gaming enterprise has to be in order to avoid being detected while ripping people off.

Farmer's is afraid I am trying to take them for a money ride, while the reality is that their policyholder, Lynda Allen, is the one defrauding them, just as she has lied to and manipulated, intimidated, used and abused, and defrauded everyone she has ever encountered. She is very good with the very few well-practiced techniques she uses to tell her deceptively simple lie.

From Greyhound Corp. v. Superior Court (1961), 56 Cal. 2d 355
(This 1961 California Supreme Court case rehearses the 1957 Discovery Act, which Act was rewritten in 1987.)

The new system, as was the federal system (Moore's Federal Practice, vol. 4, pp. 1014-1016), was intended to accomplish the following results: (1) to give greater assistance to the parties in ascertaining the truth and in checking and preventing perjury; (2) to provide an effective means of detecting and exposing false, fraudulent and sham claims and defenses; (3) to make available, in a simple, convenient and inexpensive way, facts which otherwise could not be proved except with great difficulty; (4) to educate the parties in advance of trial as to the real value of their claims and defenses, thereby encouraging settlements; (5) to expedite litigation; (6) to safeguard against surprise; (7) to prevent delay; (8) to simplify and narrow the issues; and, (9) to expedite and facilitate both preparation and trial.[4]


[15] Certainly, it can be said, that the Legislature intended to take the "game" element out of trial preparation while yet retaining the adversary nature of the trial itself. One of the principal purposes of discovery was to do away "with the sporting theory of litigation — namely, surprise at the trial." (Chronicle Pub. Co. v. Superior Court, supra, 54 Cal.2d 548, 561. See also page 572 of the same opinion wherein we adopted from United States v. Proctor & Gamble Co., 356 U.S. 677 [78 S.Ct. 983, 2 L.Ed.2d 1077], the phrase that discovery tends to "make a trial less a game of blindman's buff and more a fair contest with the basic issues and facts disclosed to the fullest practicable extent.")

Who needs Warhammer's Gorfang realms of Order v. Destruction when DestroLive! herself lives next door and is aided by the delay tactics deployed by game-playing Farmer's attorneys?

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Absent Mind, Absently Noisy and Wasteful

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Yesterday at 4:30 in the morning the Barefoot Dirty Girls crammed their junk, their eats, their yappy, lappy dogs, and their own [PC-censored] bodies into the Sebring, clanked their driveway gate shut behind them, and drove away into the darkness. Perhaps it has something to do with the last-second and suddenly revealed excuse to evade the property inspection discovery. I wish it was a permanent departure – a final riddance – but, alas, they will likely be back. Too bad.

Not content to disappear quietly, however, the Noxious Noise Queens hired stand-ins. Shortly after 7:00 a.m., the bilingual Felix and his foreign language speaking helper pulled into the driveway, unloaded a lawnmower, and fired it up. Because the hired mower was nowhere near as noisy or “beefy” as the Ol’ John Deere [missing - sold?], it took quite a while to mow down the month’s growth. They were still at it at 8:00 a.m.



At 12:30, Felix y tres amigos were “hanging” in the front yard. At least some of them were there to continue the all-weekend job of stripping cabinets, cupboards, and drawers, and then repainting them, using as many electric- and air-driven power tools and air compressors as possible. Aurally encouraged by their self-supplied boom-box radio, they were still going as dusk approached.

It is wondrous to behold the huge amounts of money the self-proclaimed tightwad, Mellow Yellow, is paying out for materials and [documented?] workers to refurnish and accessorize the newly-rebuilt home. Of course, the tightly wadded proprietress has not yet paid a lawyer to defend the unlawful use of property lawsuit. Her Farmer’s Insurance homeowner’s policy is covering that – despite the policy exclusions for both business uses and illegal activities. Too bad that money is not being better used to remove the illegal business assets and to demolish the unpermitted structures housing them.

I’m pretty sure the BDG’s have adopted Friendly Felix – a jack-of-all-trades, an honorary redneck like themselves, an English speaker – and one or more of his helpers (ayudantes.) They pay their boy toys to do the odd jobs, but the toys’ real purpose is to feed the “big girls,” guard the half-acre commercial compound and, most especially, protect Loopy Lynda’s precious crop of marijuana. ({Using her most endearing nasally, twangy, squeaky, gravelly voice} “Now, don’ you boys smoke too mucha that, ya hear?”)

Here is how the crop looked on July 8th.

Here is how the crop looks now.

It is into the seventh week since police visited Lynda and told her to enclose and secure the pot farm, but it is still in the open and across an easily scalable fence from Sierra High School. Yet another law the pothead, Mellow Yellow, loves to ignore. Ain't she special?

How well the boys perform is illustrated by the lawn watering that took place after the first seasonal mowing of the grass (... the other grass, dopehead!) Before the BDG-appointed landscape maintenance/cabinet replacement crew vacated the house Monday night, they turned off the big plasma screen TV and turned on the sprinkler out front. They did not return until 8:00 o’clock Tuesday morning to turn it off – approximately eleven or twelve hours later. (“Conserve water? Us? F-U!”)

The Doped Dilettantes have no clue Manteca has a water conservation ordinance they should follow. (Really? The BDG’s observe a law? break a law? Never!) They are forever turning on their sprinklers on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday instead of their prescribed Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday. But they don’t give a shit because those pesky city ordinances can't possibly apply to them – and they are only guidelines anyway, right?

Remember: She’s old; she must be grandfathered.

To Attorney, "Final Push To Summary Judgment."

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I met with my attorney yesterday morning to cover the papers needed to file a Motion for Summary Judgment. The list is scary but I understand the reasons behind each filing because I have re-drafted most of them numerous times over the last several months, remaining productive while the defendants pretended to be  remained brain-dead. The BDGs have ignored, dismissed, and evaded responsive answers to propounded interrogatories, demands for production, and admissions, hiding behind that legal shibboleth*, "Discovery is continuing," and evaded good faith settlement efforts - the definition of bad faith. While their freebie Farmers Insurance Homeowner Policy lawyer (still operating under Reservation of Rights, are we?) cheered, "Settle, yeah, yeah, yeah!," the BDGs' head bitch  leader continually bitched, "f...u, f...u, f...u!"

Note: The expression, "Discovery is continuing," receives full expression in Bleak House, by Charles Dickens. His novel elaborates the true purpose of the legal profession. In the fictional case of Jarndyce and Jarndyce, discovery continues until hell freezes over, the opposing parties give up, all litigants have forgotten the reason for the action, and the estate is sucked dry by solicitor fees.

The list of Dickensonian filings so far looks like this:

• Motion to Amend Initial Pleadings (add radio retaliation nuisance)
• Motion to Admit Documents (defendants refused to admit documents)
• Separate Statement of Undisputed Facts (in support of summary judgment)
• Memorandum of Points and Authorities (in support of summary judgment)
• Declaration of Richard Behling (in support of summary judgment)
• Affidavit of Benjamin Cantu (in support of summary judgment)
• Police/Crime Reports (in support of summary judgment)
• Notice of Motion and Motion for Summary Judgment
• Proofs of Service
• likely other papers, as well

Yes, it appears God is forcing me to exercise more patience  learn a tiny bit about the US/California legal abortion  tradition. One big take-away lesson is that men's governing systems are hopelessly screwed up, impossibly slow, and incapable of correctly deciding anything of importance. Dickens, the well-written social critic, was dead on --- in the 19th century and today!
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* shibboleth (n) 1. a manner of speaking that is distinctive of a particular group of people. 2. a favorite saying of a sect or political group. 3. A tired, old saying - signifying nothing. {4. A way for lawyers to delay actual litigation AND to cover their arses in front of a judge when their clients have absolutely no defense against the charges or their lawyers.}
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Scraping the Bottom

Got a second call from my attorney last night (Thursday.) It appears T, L or C called their freebie Farmers Insurance Company attorney (Why is Farmer's Insurance still hanging with these losers?) to tell him, Mark D. McCauley, Esq., about the criminal complaint I filed on them Wednesday night. Of course, because this commercial insurance attorney, and his employer, and their one giant client, have NO interest in defending criminal policyholders, he called my attorney to emphatically renew his commitment to speedily settle the civil suit, even if the defendants are pissed off about it. (Ohhh... I can see contempt of court charges already!) That's why my attorney called me.

Now that the two attorneys and I are singing from the same page of the hymnbook, all that remains is to beg  persuade  cajole  bribe  convince  tell  order  force  have the civil case defendants sign onto the Stipulated Judgment.

All of which precedes the fact that Lynda Allen is losing control. The most predictable thing about "control freaks" is that when they lose the ability to control the people around them, they freak out and revert to childish and asinine antics - or adult temper tantrums - in pathetic attempts to regain even "negative" control.

The previous post showed that despite the P.C. 415 citation she received hours before, she still turned on the yard radio yesterday morning...

... and again this morning. (Keep diggin', baby! Let's see how deep a hole you want to dig for yourself.) Banging around in the yard for an hour before, at 7:04 a.m. Lynda, still in her robe and slippers, shuffled from house to outbuilding and turned on the radio. On the way back to the house, however, she stepped in something - probably dog shit! - and tried scraping it off before going in. The incident prompted me to recall the "too many dogs" complaint and the chicken they allow loose on the property.

... and it reawakened a memory of something I read in their Health Department files almost two years ago. (Ahhh, yes... here it is.)

No wonder they were shoeless! Which is worse, a slap on the hands (or feet) for shoelessness, or losing your Health Department certificate (which shuts down your catering truck) because of whatever! on the bottom of your shoes?

The complaint, above, inspired a new name for the trio next door. Since they no longer operate TLC Catering, their new name is:

BAREFOOT DIRTY GIRLS!

Anybody wanna buy some catering trucks? See pictures of them at the end of this post.
(But remember to have them thoroughly cleaned [by professionals] before their first use.)

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Fungible Neighbors, Fungible Lawsuits

Fungible - the property of a good or a commodity whose individual units are capable of mutual substitution. The concept is stated colloquially as, "Seen one, you seen 'em all." Examples of highly fungible commodities are crude oil, wheat, orange juice, precious metals, currencies... and the residents of 810 Fishback Street in Manteca, California.

The three women who haunt the neighboring property are highly fungible. (The word reminds me of what fungi do - they decompose organic matter.)

Their shared characteristics and observable commonalities are frighteningly uncanny. Take, for example, the ritual of turning on the yard radio promptly at 7:00 a.m.  A few weeks ago it was Lynda who shuffled from house to outbuilding, in slippers and robe, to turn on the radio and point the speaker my direction before returning to the house; later it was Corky's fingers on the knobs.

This morning it was Theresa's turn. Sure enough, at 7:00 sharp, she made a beeline from house to outbuilding. A few seconds later, Mega 100.1 FM came on and played loudly on the yard radio. A few seconds after that, Theresa headed back to the house... but she saw something unusual, arrested her forward motion, her mouth opened and very unladylike language came out! She came to the fence, couldn't see over it (see the "fence extenders" they put up?), and rattled it while barking challenges. In short, she acted just like Rufus and friend. (Theresa has come unhinged over dogs before...)

(The picture above was taken on Easter Sunday about 1300 hrs. The neighbors were off screwing around somewhere all day, making sure to turn the radio ON just before leaving. Notice the speaker's orientation.)

Now, when my neighbors are really mad at me, they set up their ladder so they can see over their own "fence extenders" and they turn the speaker towards my house. The picture below was taken this morning, two days after Easter.

I know, I know... I've covered all this before. But the excitement didn't end yet. Oh, no. I really stirred the hornets' nest.

Like one of her pressure cookers building up steam, Theresa's pressure relief valve didn't take long to pop off. Three-and-one-half minutes after turning the radio on, she turned the speaker towards my house (above pic) and turned the volume up to maximum. ----> Her orgastic release lasted twenty-seven seconds. <---- After she got her pressure valve screwed back on straight, her next *and brightest* idea was that maximum volume was not her brightest idea... and she turned the volume back down from ear-splitting to merely objectionably loud and sent out an SOS to the Alpha female, who is the Mother Protector... and the Father Protector.

(This is now the second time, four days apart, that they have sent a "burst" of Mega-high volume over the fence. Good thing I have these deliberate outbursts recorded because police and courts might find this ultra-childish behavior unbelievable as coming from 57-year-old women.)

As I pulled out of my gate to leave for work, the two of them pulled up in front of my driveway in Corky's little silver Ford and turned it around in the street. Lynda's window was down and she waved and shouted naughty things as they drove away the opposite direction. Lynda's only intelligible burble was, "... see you in court!"

Really? See me in court? Then why have they and their "free" insurance company lawyer been so non-responsive during discovery? I was beginning to feel they had no desire to go to court. If she was referring to the civil case, that means she will likely not agee to the Proposed Stipulated Judgment sent over last week to Mr. Mark D. McCauley, Esq., and we will indeed proceed with the suit. I understand that Farmers Insurance has pulled the indemnity and representation plug on them, so will they now proceed in propria persona, or pro per, - a Latin term meaning “on one's own behalf”? The old, but updated, saying goes, “The woman who represents herself, has a fool for a client.”

But we already know the referenced foolish client (or, those foolish clients) and I'm ready for her or them (fungible.)

Really? "... see you in court!"? If she was referring to some criminal matter, I say, "Bring it on, Babe!" But she'll have a helluva time selling some public prosecutor on her case. She should know by now that I have her, or the fungible Theresa, nailed down regarding their nuisance radio - which radio THEY put into play on the nuisance lawsuit table last June 2009.

The Babe's mouth is running again. Bring it on! This whole thing could win them an adverse judgment in both the civil suit AND in a potential misdemeanor charge.

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Clear and Convincing Evidence of Malicious Intent

O.K., they missed Concept #2 also.

Something really stirred up the hornets over the weekend because promptly at 7:00 a.m. this morning - and I mean on the dot at 0700 hrs - the magic rock once again reoriented itself in my direction and began spewing its louder-than-usual and always-obnoxious klaxon. (It's a wonder their dogs don't go deaf. hmmm... I wonder if this qualifies as animal abuse?) Anyway, the pic below was taken at 0810 hrs, just prior to heading off to work.

This next pic was taken, same day, from the same location as the one above, at 1333 hrs during lunchtime. Note the speaker has been turned about 90 degrees opposite its morning position.

I find it extraordinary that their Farmers Insurance homeowners insurance company defense attorney ( Thing #2 or Thing #1 ) must have told Hip & Hop, "Go ahead and really, REALLY irritate the guy who's suing you for noise nuisance and maybe - just maybe - he'll succumb to our paltry offers at settlement." If he did, he's the dumbest lawyer ever. That's like giving sugar candy to a child just before bedtime and expecting him to drift quietly off to sleep.

But then again, this legal beagle on the Farmers leash could be the sharpest lawyer ever. If that's the case, then he and his employer have the absolutely dumbest policyholders/clients ever. We all know, given their modus operandi* over months and years, that these ancient hash-slingers are truly the sharpest cookies in the cutlery drawer... yes sir, razor sharp brownies... sugary cutting edges...

"G'night, John Boy."
"G'night, Greene."
"G'night, Super Freak."

{humming... Super Freak, She's a very kinky girl, The kind you don't take home to mother.}


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* Modus operandi of T,L&C - noisy midnight operations, illegal business operations, illegal mobile home, don't know what a law is, practiced liars, redneck humor (sorry for the redundancy), can't count dogs, cats and chickens, drive big, greasy, smelly catering trucks, collect and abandon obsolete business equipment, put icemaker on neighbor's fenceline, put radio speaker on neighbor's fenceline in same place as icemaker, devoid of social skills, etc.

(taken from http://www.answers.com/topic/modus-operandi) [Latin, Method of working.] A term used by law enforcement authorities to describe the particular manner in which a crime is committed.

The term modus operandi is most commonly used in criminal cases. It is sometimes referred to by its initials, M.O. The prosecution in a criminal case does not have to prove modus operandi in any crime. However, identifying and proving the modus operandi of a crime can help the prosecution prove that it was the defendant who committed the crime charged.

Modus operandi evidence is helpful to the prosecution if the prosecution has evidence of crimes committed by the defendant that are similar to the crime charged. The crimes need not be identical, but the prosecution must make a strong and persuasive showing of similarity between the crime charged and the other crimes. The prosecution may introduce evidence from prior or subsequent crimes to prove modus operandi only if the other crimes share peculiar and distinctive features with the crime charged. The features must be uncommon and rarely seen in other crimes, and they must be so distinct that they can be recognized as the handiwork of the same person.

For example, assume that a defendant is on trial for armed robbery. In the robbery the defendant is alleged to have brandished a pistol and ordered the victim to relinquish cash and valuables. Assume further that the defendant has committed armed robbery in the past by brandishing a pistol and demanding cash and valuables. A prosecutor might be able to introduce the evidence into trial to show the defendant's motive, intent, or state of mind, or to identify the weapon used in the crime. However, the prosecutor could not argue to the judge or jury that the robberies were so similar as to demonstrate that it was the defendant who committed that particular robbery, because it is not unusual for a robber to brandish a pistol and demand cash and valuables in the course of an armed robbery.

Now assume that a defendant is charged with robbing a movie theater that was showing the movie Showgirls and that the defendant was wearing a glittering, flamboyant Las Vegas-style cabaret costume during the robbery. Assume further that the prosecution has evidence that the defendant, while dressed as a Las Vegas dancer, has robbed other movie theaters showing the movie Showgirls. The prosecution could introduce this evidence into trial to prove modus operandi and show that it was the defendant who committed the crime, because the method of armed robbery used in the crimes was both similar and distinctive.

When offering evidence to prove modus operandi, the prosecution does not have to prove beyond a reasonable doubt that the other crimes occurred. Rather, the prosecution simply must present sufficient evidence to show that the act took place and was committed by the defendant.



(p.s. I soooo love the mental image of T,L&C dressed in "glittering, flamboyant Las Vegas-style cabaret costume" while cooking in their MFPU and peddling their schlock to the masses! Of course, the pictured women are the right age, twice as tall, and have the faces and other attributes necessary for employment in the showgirl industry. ed.)

Another Deposition Delay...

Well, tomorrow's opportunity to defend my case in deposition has been postponed by a back field hand off at Farmers' Group. I am mildly curious as to the reason(s) for this delay and will follow future developments to determine what happened. So far, I can speculate three scenarios:

1. The insurance company believes my neighbors have a miniscule chance to win the case and reassigned it to a legal "shark" to vigorously defend. (Good, maybe we can get defense counsel to Authentication of Documents before the second serving of identical papers disintegrates into a pulpy mass suitable only for mouse nests.)

2. The insurance company believes my neighbors have absolutely no chance of prevailing, recalculated the likely settlement and stipulations (oh wait, they don't care about non-monetary stipulations), and reassigned it to a newly minted lawyer to shepherd its demise.

3. Business is so bad for the insurance company (therefore "good", or billable, for the symbiotic legal firm) that Mr. McFadden, Esq. had to offload some of the work - and this case, with its yokel policyholders and mountains of bothersome (ie., unopposable) documentation, was a prime choice for delay... oops... reassignment not likely to produce judicial sanctions.

Oh, well, it's supposed to be sunny tomorrow...

Something Fishy, Smelling Stinky...

A while back I was informed that my neighbors' homeowner's insurance (Farmers Insurance Group) is paying for an attorney to defend them against my noise nuisance suit. (Never mind that I allege unlawful nonresidential, or business, use of property. Who knew that home-based businesses are covered under residential policies?)

I was also informed that California law prevents insurance companies from furnishing legal representation to policyholders directly and must, therefore, pay a third-party attorney to do the work. Here is what I discovered about John A. McFadden, Esq. - State Bar No. 173588, attorney for the defendants. Look carefully and tell me...

Why does this supposedly "independent attorney" list on his entry with the California State Bar an email address at FarmersInsurance.com?

Further, he works for the law offices of Field & Sanders in Rancho Cordova, CA, undoubtedly a respected and respectable firm, headed up by Douglas L. Field, Esq. - State Bar No. 56990. Alas, Mr. Field has no email address on file with the State Bar. However, this esteemed gentleman has a long and impressive resume on file with the San Joaquin County Court. Again, look closely and tell me...

How is "independence" maintained when the owner/managing partner of the law firm assigns an associate to this case, while himself occupies the position of Staff Counsel of Farmers Group of Companies since June 1997 according to his resume?

I know... I know... they'll tell me that because they are not "employees" of (any of) the Farmers Group of Companies, it is, therefore, not illegal to thusly represent Allen's & Brassey's illegal nonresidential (business) use of their property. (I'm pretty sure that's lawyer-speak for, Screw you.)

Mr. Field and Mr. McFadden may not be "employees" of Farmers Group, but be assured that their homes, boats, cars, childrens' college funds, and wives' clothes and jewelry will be purchased by all those policyholders who contribute premiums to one of the myriad corporations under the Farmers Group umbrella. The legal services these "interdependent esquires" render to Farmers is a balancing act between maximum billings to their firm and minimum impact to shareholders' stock value. Nobody wants to foul that honeypot spot called Staff Counsel.

One can no longer expect to receive impartial rulings from Blind Justice under the Rule of Law. In our system of Justice-for-Sale, individuals need to watch the rear view mirror to avoid being steam-rollered by Great Wads of Cash.