BDG Shysters*: "Get'cher Tea Head Turncoats (tm) Here!"

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BDG self-confession began long, long ago...



 The Barefoot Dirty Girls

• Mistresses of Flim-Flam**
• Purveyors of TLC Roach Coach Swill
• Growers and Distributors of Sierra High (c) Marijuana
• Brains (?) and Producers of Tea Head Turncoats

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I guess Lyin' Lynda and Roly-Poly Red have been ruminating on my proposal from last January, in the post "Opprobrius Chameleons: Reversibles and Rip-Offs" - a jacket that announces to the world what bad-girl bad-asses they are on the outside... but warm, fluffy, virginal, cuddly and affirming on the inside.



NO camouflage covers the BDG's the moment they open their mouths.
(Hmmm... maybe camouflaged duct tape over their mouths...)

In patenting this "invention," the most telling sentence in the entire Innovation Application is this one, penned by Theresa Ann Brassey in 1998 (though undoubtedly dictated to her by Lyin' Lynda Sue Allen):

"If the team [s]he is rooting for loses the game or is otherwise unacceptable to the rest of the fans, e.g. for example [sic] if they are the visiting team, the user can simply reverse the jacket and present those fans in the stadium with a logo for a team and/or player that is acceptable to them."

What a slimy, manipulative confession of unprincipled action! This applied statement of Lyin' Lynda's and Roly-Poly Red's credo grows out of their blind paranoia that someone might see them for who they really are; it attempts to validate their schizophrenic view of this life; and it embodies their anxiety and dread of the here-and-now and the hereafter.

"Just turn the coat (and hope no one looks inside.)"

The Barefoot Dirty Girls are merely recycling their wasted lives. As one online encyclopedia put it,

"The fear of the past coming to upset the newly-found stability is always present in the mind of the turncoat. The past is rewritten and whitewashed to cover former deeds. When successful, this activity results in the distortion and falsification of historical events."

Amen.

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But the story continues and gets better. Their plan was (is?) to capitalize on the patent by trademarking a clothing line label - Turncoat. (Yes, Turncoat! From their own mouths! I know...!)

Not one, but two trademark applications were filed. It appears these two snake-oil saleswomen have been through litigation before. New action took place a few months ago on one of the trademark serial #'s, cancelling the original litigated one.

Trademark Serial # 76454909 (live)

Litigated Serial # 76533488 (dead- cancelled 04Feb2011)

It looks as if our local turncoats are attempting to re-launch some sort of camouflage enterprise.

The BDG's:

Drive '89 Chevy submersibles
We blend in 'cause we wear reversibles
Don't dare you detract!
Don't give us no flak
By sayin' we're gas-filled dirigibles.

Yeah, that black market "Manteca medical" marijuana money needs a Turncoat (tm) money laundering front in order to evade numerous more laws. As spelled out repeatedly in the Showtime series, Weeds, the BDG's need some sort of cash-based scam going to hide their activities and perpetuate their miserable existences. Just like their earlier roach coach food business, drug money funding; now, instead of cash for emetic comestibles, cash sales of Chinese-made sports apparel (especially for a worthless franchise in a useless industry.)

If anyone happens to spot one of these monstrosities in real life -- a jacket or a BDG (no diff) -- check it for a hidden zipper pocket for smuggling a marijuana inventory stash into Raider football games. (Now we know why the fans of eyeless, toothless pirates are so wigged out... Go, Red, weed-brained daughter of the San Leandro Pirates!)

Here's another suggestion for
Lyin' Lynda, Ravaged Red, and Guts[y] Green -

just sew large, scarlet A's

on your personal jackets... inside and out...
after all, "A is for Asshole[s]."

(And watch out for those gas-filled dirigibles that float over stadia full of people.)

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* shy·ster (n) Slang. A person who uses unscrupulous, fraudulent, or deceptive methods in business. An unethical, unscrupulous practitioner, especially of law.

Word History: Calling someone a shyster might be considered libellous; knowing its probable origin adds insult to injury. Shyster is most likely derived from the German term scheisser, meaning literally "one who defecates," from the verb scheissen, "to defecate." Sheisser, which is chiefly a pejorative term, is the German equivalent of the English terms bastard and son of a bitch. [Middle High German schzen, from Old High German skzzan; see skei- in Indo-European roots.]

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** The Flim-Flam Man (20th Century Fox)  George C. Scott plays Mordecai C. Jones (self-styled "M.B.S., C.S., D.D. — Master of Back-Stabbing, Cork-Screwing and Dirty-Dealing!"), a drifting confidence trickster who makes his living defrauding people in the southern United States. [Really? Criminals drifting through life on lies and evasion? Sound familiar, BDG's?]


.

Draft Memorandum of Points and Authorities

Memorandum of Points and Authorities
In Support of Plaintiff's Motions for Summary Judgment

Behling, Richard v. Allen, Lynda and Brassey, Theresa
Case # 39-2009-00212085-CU-OR-STK
Complaint filed May 19, 2009

Plaintiff submits this memorandum of points and authorities in support of his motions for summary judgment against Defendants, Allen and Brassey for these causes of action: ...

- - -

I called my attorney today to inquire if the defendants were going to wait until just before the January 19, 2011 Alternative Dispute Resolution review hearing before inventing  pooping out  profferring yet another lame  mighty log  protestation of willingness to mediate. He called me back later to relay yet another ration of the same runny shit the defendants have been orally defecating for seventeen months.

But it was humorous to hear about Lynda's whining about me "pickin' on her dogs... and jus 'bout ever'thin'!" {Ahhh, poor baby, Yellow, and her furry children... cry...}

My response to her - and my attorney's response to Mr. McCauley, Esq. - was, {Duh,} "It's called pressure. {you dumb ass!} If you had gotten your clients to sign the agreed Stipulated Judgment last spring - and they acted in good faith {can they even be taught this foreign concept?} - this thing could have been settled and these pressures would not have been resorted to."

Of course, everything the BDGs think is wrong, everything they say is wrong, and everything they do is wrong, so it's very easy to find pressure points - just watch their habitually lawless and abberant behaviors. Simple. (Take, for example, their marijuana FUBAR.)

We needn't go into the other things he said he told Mr. McCauley, Esq.
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Yellow Still Tries To Blame It All On Tom

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Yellow opened her mouth...

...and unwittingly (how else could she?) spilled her beans. She isn't entirely ignorant of history - her own childish history, anyway - as her family tree above makes perfectly clear. Still... Was it so long ago in her long, long... loooong... lifetime that she has forgotten which of she and her sisters were being pursued by which of the seven suitors?

You see, at Pinole High School Yellow's nickname was "Teenie" and it was SHE who was leading Tom on. Some women live to screw; she lives only to screw up. (Thank God for small favors!)

Red is the infamous "San Leandro Lulu" because at a very tender age she was sent off to the infamous reform school there, where she got her Hell's Catering Kitchen Degree in Non-Reformity; but her and Drexel's gene pool hit a blank wall (see chart.) (Thank God again.)

And the mysterious, guts[y] Southern Belle, Mitzi/Cornelia/Green, never got Jack. (Or Jack never got Jane, or never got Jill, or... oh, the devil!)

And, it is irony of historical proportions that Mellow Yellow, the undisputed pouting princess of the above-delineated family, has dreamt up this drug-induced paranoid delirium that her neighbor lives only to spy on her. {Oh, yeah, baby! Especially when you and Green wear those X-X-X B.D.G. summer Godiva uniforms! Every angular, bony, non-curve revealed... except for the flabby, pot-belly tummies... uh, uhnn... vomit!}

A few other people around town know what Yellow looks like {Death warmed over} and agree that there's not a camera on earth that could withstand the shock of that image! So, too, Ravaged Red's visage* and beam** fare no better. Show us your other side...

NOT JUST A PRETTY FACE

Can you pick Yellow (or Red, or Green) out of this lineup?

My genealogical researcher on this project came highly recommended, indeed the very best in the business. He made only two attempts at reaching adult children; he concentrated mainly on the younger, more juvenile, less mentally developed members of the species, such as the BDGs. As such, this exposé may be over their heads. Nevertheless, here is his curriculum vitae:

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From the family photo album:

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A youthful "Teenie Yellow" (before she got the munchies) looking a gift horse in the mouth -

Disciplining the Un-Reformable Ravaged Red (a.k.a. "San Leandro Lulu") -

Guts[y] "Mitzi" Green sailing the bayous after she stole Jack's s**t -

The gated, guarded compound after twenty-three years of hard abuse by the family business - Ye Olde M. BareAssed Dirty Girls! - with clattery, creaky, horsedrawn pastry wagons (selling on the side "Just tops and buds of the rarest flowers, not one stem, branch or seed. I mean, Maui Wowie, Panama Red, Acapulco Gold... back before it was a crime"); the foodstuffs storehouse, and the straw insulated icehouse where the au naturel refrigerant was chipped every morning at 3:00 a.m.

And it wasn't only the horses that ate the cultivated grass...

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* visage (n) countenance: the human face (`kisser' and `mug' are informal terms for `face'); the appearance conveyed by a person's face: "a ferocious, deeply creased, irreparable visage"

** beam (n) 1. A squared-off log or a large, oblong piece of timber, metal, or stone used especially as a horizontal support in construction. 2. Nautical a. A transverse structural member of a ship's frame, used to support a deck and to brace the sides against stress. b. The breadth of a ship at the widest point. c. The side of a ship: sighted land off the starboard beam. 3. Informal The widest part of a person's hips: broad in the beam.
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Naked Came She Into The World...

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(answer at bottom of post)

... and, because of her unremitting perversity and her obtuse, foot-dragging blockade of all efforts to remedy her nuisance, she left me no alternative but to practice tough love on her.

She could have relocated her catering truck & commissary business to a legal property and likely continued it for many more years (stoned or otherwise.) But, no... instead she chose to take early "medicinal marijuana" retirement and shut the business down.

Of course, publicly she claims the economy did her in. Privately she bends every stranger's ear (as in: yard sale visitors) with her life history and the biggest sob story ever - her version - that she has to move away because her despicable, evil neighbor is:

• harrassing her by spying on her (midnight business operations, icemaker noise nuisance, yard radio nuisance), and
• calling the cops on her for every little thing (loud yard radio, no building permits, too many dogs, unsecured marijuana, dead cars), and
• maintaining a lawsuit against her for her "grandfathered" business (not grandfathered, illegal mobile home, illegal business use in zone, illegal business expansion, noise nuisance, etc.)

"Poor little me! Why is he doing this to me? I'm a good neighbor. (Just ask the people of Tracy)" the little lamb continually bleats in her assumed plaintive tones.

Pish!*

Truth can stand repetition; repetition, however, cannot make a lie into truth.
If her story had a grain of truth in it, she would be offering hard evidence of "grandfathered" status (ie., pre-annexation County of San Joaquin documentation.)

If her story had a grain of truth in it, she would be able to demonstrate to code enforcement or the police that she was in compliance with whatever charge.

If her story had a grain of truth in it, she would have petitioned for a harrassment protective order against me.

What she does know is that City of Manteca officials are so slack in their job performance that the only proofs and surveillance to be had are what I gather myself.

What she does know is that she hasn't a legal leg to stand on and her illegal business use is going down, as are all her other illegalities.

What she does know is:

• I am not buckling under to her shrill, strident, oft-repeated falsehoods, and
• I am not going away, and
• I am sick and tired of her lies and deceit, her noise, her lawlessness, her arrogance, and all of her other [not!] endearing qualities.

Kicking and cursing and making all sorts of other retaliatory noise and spreading all sorts of false gossip [false gossip? Sorry for the redundancy...], this sickly, mouthy, streetworn pish peddler is finally tucking tail and slinking away.

Slink faster!

And don't let the gate slam shut on your tail! (Wait! On second thought...)
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.
.
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Naked came she into the world... and she will leave this corner of it
stripped and spanked.

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* pish (interj) an exclamation of impatience or contempt; (vb) to make this exclamation at someone or something.

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Second Quarter: Sierra High School Trails Druggies (Ge'cher Hot Dogs!)

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"Narcs at the door again, Yellow!"

At 09:42 hours, I got this email from the City of Manteca's online Government Outreach system, also know as the "Put That In Your Pipe and Smoke It, Whiner!" system.

This is in reference to the Complaint on Drugs/Narcotics you submitted on 09/20/2010 2:42 PM
Description: Ref: Case # 10-24475. The "two week" deadline expired last week, and no preparations to enclose the marijuana have been made, let alone completing the job. The plants are still growing outdoors next to Sierra High School.

Your request # 463673 has been resolved with the resolution:
Thank you.


We are committed to providing you the best service we can. We would appreciate you filling out an online survey on how this request was handled. You can fill out the online survey by going to: {... Hell!}

What a loquatious* response! {sarcasm}

I'm really not surprised. Neither should Manteca's leaders be surprised when I take such an abrupt** answer as a sign of dismissal and again take my case back through the Manteca Unified School District. I know, the city will pitch me several excuses, such as not disclosing details of an active case or protecting the accused's "rights". A curt "thank you" does not produce within me any level of reassurance or trust that the laws of this city are being enforced properly - or at all.


"Hot Dog(s)! Here We Go Again, Yellow!"

At 12:45 hours, I arrived home to a tableau on the neighboring driveway. Artfully arranged were: an Animal Control vehicle, a uniformed woman, a man with a ponytail, Lynda Allen with her favorite dog chew toy baseball cap, and Lynda's car parked over the sidewalk. They appeared to be conversing. A few minutes later the Animal Control vehicle drove away.

Oh, boy! Oh, boy! I can't wait to hear what fabrication the doper dreamt up to deploy this time. We'll see if Animal Control is more garrulous* than the Manteca Police Drug Squad in responding to online complaints.

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* lo·qua·cious (adj) \lō-ˈkwā-shəs\ 1: full of excessive talk : wordy 2: given to fluent or excessive talk : garrulous. lo·qua·cious·ly (adverb) lo·qua·cious·ness (n). synonym : garrulous.

** abrupt (adj) 1. sudden; unexpected 2. brusque or brief in speech, manner, etc.; curt

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{Shhhh! This Is Supposed To Be A Surprise Birthday Present...}

.

credit

I told you before that I am an afficionado of all things "catering" (except for eating any food sold from a catering truck... and icemakers... and commissaries... and outlaw owners.)

So, let me tell you! When I came across these gorgeous little cardboard fold-up models of catering trucks, I immediately KNEW what to get Mellow Yellow for her birthday this weekend! You see, the reason is she got deathly sick and had to quit her business (finally! on a residential property, no less!) and has to get rid of all those commercial vehicles (and other business assets) on her property. So much stress on the poor woman. And Code Enforcement is on to her... they say:

Tue 9/21/2010 3:29 PM
Your request # 460464 has been resolved with the resolution:
Code Enforcement is aware of the situation and will be addressing the appropriate violations. Thank you for your concern.

This is in reference to the Complaint on Garage Sales you submitted on 09/13/2010 6:28 PM
Location: 810 Fishback Street
Description: Re: Request #455382, the two vehicles in question were pushed in front of a container/trailer. They are visible from the sidewalk without elevating any cameras - or eyeballs.

The complaint above was actually regarding Abandoned Vehicles, but they got confused, I guess, when I asked the below question online:

Wed 9/1/2010 3:17 PM
This is in reference to the Question you submitted on 09/01/2010 2:46 PM
Description: How many vehicles can be sold, or offered for sale, from a residential property without an auto dealer's license? 1? 2? 3? 4? 5? 6? more?

Reason Closed: The City does not have anything to do with an auto dealer's license so inquiries regarding this would need to be directed to the DMV. The City also does not have any rules regarding the sale of ones own vehicles. As example, If someone owned 10 vehicles and suddenly needed to liquidate them due to a need for cash, there is nothing that says that they can't do so. On the other hand, if they were purchasing vehicles to turn around and re-sell them, that would be something that would then be looked at as a business activity that would not be allowed. In addition, the courts have held that we can not regulate someone putting a for sale sign on their vehicle as this is considered a free speech issue.

Oh, so now it's a freedom of political speech to amass commercial vehicles on a residential property and illegally conduct business therefrom? And after closing the business, using the property as a commercial auto sales lot is also freedom of political speech? {imbeciles!}

{Deep breath! Exhale slowly... Slow heart rate and lower blood pressure.}

O.K. Back on track...

These darling little cardboard catering trucks, however, ARE legal for her to have on her property. And anyway, after "[Yellow] takes one toke with her famous lungs" * this'll look just like the real thing. Sorta ease her pain, like, ya' know... BUT, she has to be really careful while burning her roaches inside one a' these coaches, or she may just "go[] up in a puff of smoke." *

But please help me choose. I'm having trouble deciding which model to get her. Here's the current catalogue, and after that are some larger images. Please let me know what you think.

Señor Macho Taco Model




Customizable Model
(To reconstruct that sweeeeet TLC look and feel!)




Bleep Labs Model - for peddling anthropomorphic noise toys
(as if Lynda needed any help making more noise!)




Pirate Model
(Yum Yum, Hard Tack & Rum)




Muertos Model
(I thought this was the unofficial title of every taco truck out there?)




Yum Tacos Model




Kawaii Model
(can you imagine raw sashimi being sold from a taco truck?)




Zombie Model
(closest to truth-in-advertising of any model listed)




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* see highlighted lines

The Smoke Off
by Shel Silverstein

Now, in the laid-back California town of sunny San Rafael
Lived a girl named Pearly Sweetcake - you probably knew her well
She was stoned 15 of her 18 years, and her story was widely told
That she could smoke 'em faster than anyone could roll

Well, her legend finally reached New York, that Grove Street walk-up flat
Where dwelt the Calistoga Kid, a beatnik from the past
He'd been rollin' dope since time began, now he took a cultured toke
And said, "Jim, I can roll 'em faster than any CHICK can smoke"

So a note gets sent to San Rafael for the championship of the world
The Kid demands a smoke-off; "Well bring him on!" says Pearl
"I'll grind his fingers off his hands! He'll roll until he drops!"
Says Calistog, "I'll smoke that chick till she blows up and pops".

So they rent out Yankee Stadium, and the word is quickly spread
Come one, come all, who walk or crawl, tickets just two lids a head
And from every town and hamlet, over land and sea they speed
The world's greatest dopers, with the world's greatest weed.

Hashishers from Morocco, hemp smokers from Peru
And the Shashniks from Bagun (who smoke the deadly Pu-ga-ru)
And those who call it "light of life"
And those that call it "boo".

See the dealers and their ladies, wearing turquoise lace and leather
See the narcos and the closet smokers, puffing all together
From the teenies who smoke legal, to the ones who've done some time
To the old man who smoked "reefer", back before it was a crime.

And the grand old House That Ruth Built is filled with the smokes and cries
Of 50,000 screaming heads, all stoned out of their minds
And they play the national anthem, and the crowd lets out a roar
As the spotlight hits the kid and Pearl, ready for their smoking war.

At a table piled up high with grass, as high as a mountain peak
Just tops and buds of the rarest flowers, not one stem, branch or seed
I mean, Maui Wowie, Panama Red, Acapulco Gold
Kif from East Afghanistan, and that rare Alaska Cold

And there's sticks from Thailand, ganj from the island,
And Bangkok's blooming best
(and some of that wet imported shit
That capsized off Key West).

There's Oaxacan tops and Kenya bhang, and Riviera fleurs
And that rare Manhattan Silver, that grows down in the New York sewers.
And there's bubblin' ice cold lemonade, and sweet grapes by the bunches
And there's Hershey bars and Oreos (in case anybody gets the munches)

And the Calistoga Kid, he smiles,
And Pearly, she just grins
And the drums roll low, and the crowd yells "GO GO GO!!"
And the world's first smoke-off begins.

Well, the kid he flicks his fingers once, and ZAP that first joint's rolled
Pearl takes one toke with her famous lungs, and WHOOSH that roach is cold
Then the kid he rolls his super-bomb, that would paralyze a moose
And Pearl takes one mighty hit, and ...... that bomb's defused

And then he rolls three in just ten seconds, and she smokes them up in nine
And everybody sits back and says, "Hey.... this just might take some time"

See the blur of flying fingers, see the red coal burning bright
As the night turns into mornin', and the mornin' fades to night
And the autumn turns to summer, and a whole damn year is gone
And the two still sit, on that roach-filled stage, smokin', and rollin'...on

With tremblin' hands he rolls his jays, with fingers blue and stiff
She coughs and stares with bloodshot gaze, and puffs through blistered lips
And as she reaches out her hand for another stick of gold
The Kid, he gasps, "Damn it, bitch! There's nothin' left to roll!"

"NOTHIN' LEFT TO ROLL!" screams Pearl. "IS THIS SOME TWISTED JOKE?
I DIDN'T COME HERE TO FUCK AROUND; MAN, I COME HERE TO SMOKE!"

And she reaches 'cross the table and grabs his bony sleeves
And crumbles his body between her hands, like dried and brittle leaves
Flicking out his teeth and bones like useless stems and seeds
And then she rolls him in a zig-zag, and lights him like a roach
And the fastest man, with the fastest hands, goes up in a puff of smoke.

In the laid-back California town of sunny San Rafael
Lives a girl named Pearly Sweetcake - you probably know her well
She been stoned 21 of her 24 years, and her story is still widely told
How she still can smoke 'em faster than any dude can roll

While, off in New York City, on a street that has no name
There's the hands of the Calistoga kid, in the Viper Hall of Fame
And underneath his fingers, there's a little golden scroll
That says, "Beware of bein' the roller
When there's nothin' left to roll".

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The Cancer Metastasizes*

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Great Scott! Wave after wave of flotsam and jetsam - vomit from the BDG's illict decades-old catering enterprise - are now spilling over into the street!

I'm guessing the triage** underway is to segregate the pure crap from the flea market merchandise, and those from the piles of shit stored under the Big Top, the latter likely to be dragged along by the BDG's to their future paradise home... far, far, far away. (The farther the better... but wherever that paradise is, it's about to suffer a mortal blow. See definitions for metastasize.*)

Like everything else the hash-slinging potheads do, they don't have the good sense to sneak out of town in the middle of the night; instead they have to trash the neighborhood first.

I wonder if they have a permit for their merchatile display going on the second day now? Flea market... yard sale... garage sale... lawn sale... take your pick of terms; they are all equivalent under the Manteca Municipal Code.

“Garage sale” means a sale conducted by an individual homeowner or occupant of a home, or apartment owners, or occupant of an apartment unit, for the purpose of selling, trading, bargaining, exchanging or otherwise disposing of unwanted or surplus household furnishings or goods, or other tangible property, usually conducted in a garage, on a patio, upon a driveway, or on or in any portion of premises in a residential zone and for which no inventory or permanent or detail records are kept on the transactions thus carried out. It may, at times, be conducted by a combination of residential dwellers at a single location and may take on the nature and character of a rummage sale or a fund raising event for civic or charitable purposes. All sales designated “lawn sale,” “attic sale,” “rummage sale,” “moving sale,” “flea market sale,” or other terms of similar or like intent and having the foregoing characteristics and purposesshall be deemed garage sales. (MMC 17.61.030 Definitions)

28. Garage or Yard Sales. A garage or yard sale may be conducted on any developed lot in an R district, subject to the following requirements:

a. No more than two such sales may be conducted on any one lot in any one calendar year.
b. Each sale period shall be for no more than three days, unless additional time is approved by the community development director.
c. All related signs shall conform to the requirements of Chapter 17.17 of this title. (MMC 17.07.020 Permitted and Conditionally Permited Uses)

Oh, I know. The BDG's will claim it is not a yard sale - yet - because there are no For Sale signs up - yet. But they are fooling no one, because the BDG's have never followed any rules before and the City of Manteca officials don't enforce any of their own rules, especially on these scofflaws.

As Karen Carpenter sung:

I know I ask perfection of
A quite imperfect world
And fool enough to think
That’s what I’ll find.

And I quote an excerpt from my own soon-to-be published legal writings below:

D. Nonconforming and Noncompliant Uses

The rationale advanced in the citations in this section applies to legal nonconforming uses and is couched in that language. It goes without saying that these principles apply - with imperative action to abate - against illegal or noncompliant uses.

In California, "[Zoning] legislation . . . looks to the future and the eventual liquidation of nonconforming uses." [Citation] [Sabek, Inc. v. County of Sonoma, 190 Cal. App. 3d 163 (Cal. App. 1st Dist. 1987)]

Why is that? The answer was outlined [by the court in Gage] in 1954:

"No case seems to have been decided in this state squarely involving the precise question presented in the case at bar. Until recently zoning ordinances have made no provision for any systematic and comprehensive elimination of the nonconforming use. The expectation seems to have been that existing nonconforming uses would be of little consequence and that they would eventually disappear. [Citation] The contrary appears to be the case. [Citation] It is said that the fundamental problem facing zoning is the inability to eliminate the nonconforming use. [Citation] (footnote 2) The general purpose of present-day zoning ordinances is to eventually end all nonconforming uses. [Citation].
...
“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)]

A perfect description of that metastasizing cancer known as TLC Catering, owned and illegally operated by Lynda S Allen and Theresa A Brassey, for twenty-three years on the always-zoned-as-residential property at 810 Fishback Street, Manteca, California - aided and abetted by the lazy, bungling, incompetent fools soaking up our tax dollars down at city hall.

I'm waiting for the multiple (Red, Yellow, and Green) lumpectomies and the proper radiation treatment of this cancer. Which button do you think I'd push?

(from the Natural News site)

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* me·tas·ta·size (verb used without object. It's alive!) 1. Pathology (of malignant cells or disease-producing organisms) to spread to other parts of the body by way of the blood or lymphatic vessels or membranous surfaces. 2. to spread injuriously (Ex., Street gangs have metastasized in our city.) 3. to transform, esp. into a dangerous form (Ex., The KGB metastasized after the fall of the Soviet Union. Ex., Truth metastasized into Lynda Allen's lurid TLC fantasy.)

** triage (transitive verb) 1a: the sorting of and allocation of treatment to patients and especially battle and disaster victims according to a system of priorities designed to maximize the number of survivors b: the sorting of patients (as in an emergency room) according to the urgency of their need for care; 2: the assigning of priority order to projects on the basis of where funds and other resources can be best used, are most needed, or are most likely to achieve success. Ex., Nurses do triage in the emergency room. (Fr, sorting, sifting, from trier to sort, from Old French) Rhymes with triage: barrage, collage, corsage, dressage, frottage, garage, gavage, lavage, massage, ménage, mirage, montage, moulage, portage, potage, treillage.

(Great rhymes! I'll have to use some of them soon because a couple, in particular, apply to the BDG's.)
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BDGs' Attorney Says They'll Mediate... For Real?!

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Shocking breakthrough!

At this morning's case management conference in Stockton Superior Court, Red's and Yellow's attorney said the defendants agreed to a mediation session. We'll see if his word is any better now than it was last August 13th. (And, no, he still hasn't delivered on that month-old item.)

Of course, this extremely late and decidedly reluctant baby step does not stop my other court filings and preparations for the [highly likely] event that Yellow has to scratch her {xxxxx} - or make up some other lame, last minute excuse for noncooperation.

Do I hear echoes? I recall June 2009, after she admitted one week that the icemaker was noisy and she was going to move it, the next week Lynda sayin',

I'm not moving it. I tried working with you. . . (classic Lynda communication style, letting her sentences trail off as she walks away.)

Uh-huh. Sure you did...

...NOT!

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Regarding the illustration, I'm not sure these cute little outfits are large enough to prevent interior latex paint spills from adding some zest to the Barefoot Dirty Girls' already eclectic mix-and-match wardrobes. On the other hand, football jersey shirts are ephemeral anyway.
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Disturbed Skipper of Ship of Fools on Sea of Idiots

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Karma is an awesome thing!

While not always wonderful in one's own life, payback can be downright hilarious when observed in someone else's.

To the west lives a pack of fools, who love nothing more than to crank up their outdoor speakers with some melodic trash while partying - outside, of course. (I don't know which hurts worse: that all his [or her] neighbors must be subjected to such crude behavior; or, that we are never invited to the parties.) Lacking more culturally "sensitive" terms, I must revert to somewhat more unsympathetic and politically incorrect words in categorizing the tasteless entertainment noise as "Mexican music."

These dolts infest the property at 700 Airport Way in the City of Manteca, County of San Joaquin, State of California, on a 1.88-acre lot that extends east to mid-block. Neighbors backing up to them also have large, deep lots that can be used for horses or other animals. Below are screen prints of a Google satellite shot and an SJ County parcel map for the location context.

This odious concertina music, with its crooning vocalists, often plays during the daytime and can be heard for at least a quarter-mile, especially when the northwest Delta breezes drift the noisesome* vibrations this direction. During the quiet of the night it can be heard even farther. They must believe that everyone within earshot actually likes the stuff. The force-feeding is nauseating.

The problem becomes acute at night, however, when the offenders periodically continue the revelry past 10:00 p.m., sometimes to midnight or 2:00 a.m. I have been awakened by the Mexican music a few times late at night. Such has been noted - and called in to the Manteca Police Department - on March 9th, June 12th, July 3rd, August 21st, and September 5th of this year alone.

Most entertaining - by far - was last Sunday on the evening of September 5th, two days ago. Upon returning home late, around 21:00 hours, I noticed the Mexican music drifting across the deep lots. Easygoing, peace loving neighbor that I am, I shrugged it off because, according to the [apparently toothless] local noise ordinance, he/she had until 22:00 hours to terminate the party noise.

A little after ten, I was surprised to see the Barefoot Dirty Girls' yard light come on. They are turn into squash gourds pumpkins much earlier than ten, going comatose from a hard day of yapping, toking, watching their foreign language speaking hired helpers work, playing picnic table games, and generally doing nothing. They positively go brain dead early (as shown by the facts of their recording the last quarter of their last Worshipful Raiders game on their brand new giant indoor Sony TV because it extended past 9:00 p.m. - while their own yard radio played... across the fence... outside... the whole time.)

Poor Mellow "Lynda" Yellow... she couldn't sleep! At 10:10 p.m., the Mexican music was keeping her up. (And, God knows, she's missed too much beauty sleep already in her almost six decades!) The pinch-faced woman gathered her tattered robe tightly and in slippers shuffled out of her house, out of the rebuilt lattice porch, across the yard, and into the outbuilding. Moments later she shuffled back into her house.

"Holy $%#@#, Batman!"** That was a slap-my-face Ah-Ha moment*** - an ironic shock of epic proportions - a perfect example of Karma, the incontestable dragon, coming back to bite Lynda's skinny ass. Not only was the benighted woman bothered by the Moo-zĕk'-ah, she was MORE bothered by the possibility that it was HER OWN YARD RADIO keeping her up. Her paranoia forced her to get up and check that her outdoor radio was turned off before calling the police... or, because I might call the police on her.

I have laughed ever since that this Mega-champion of round-the-clock noxious noise was rousted from her newly insulated and rebuilt house by someone else's yard radio a quarter-mile away! Yet she maintains her own daily nuisance radio just over my fence and expects me not to object.

An idiot. An idiot on dope. A disturbed idiot on dope.
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* noi·some (noism) (adj.) 1. Offensively malodorous; offensive to the point of arousing disgust; foul: a noisome odor. 2. Causing or able to cause nausea; "a nauseating smell"; "nauseous offal"; "a sickening stench." Loathsome, nauseating, nauseous, queasy, sickening, vile, offensive. 3. Unwholesome - detrimental to physical or moral well-being; "unwholesome food"; "unwholesome habits like smoking tobacco or marijuana." [Middle English. noiesom: noie, harm (short for anoi, annoyance, from Old French, from anoier, to annoy; see annoy) + -som, adj. suff.; see -some1.]

** A grammatical ejaculation commonly transliterated**** as "Ah-Ha."

*** Wendy Piersall - "I like to describe Ah-Ha Moments as those when the intellectual mind, the emotional mind and the physical body all come to an agreement at the same time. It’s when you have an idea or problem that you have struggled with in your mind, it caused icky or conflicting emotions, and your body usually tensed up or got stressed out when you thought about it. Then in one fell swoop, your mind 'gets it' – you have a flood (tiny or huge) of good emotions, and you feel a physical sense of relief and happiness, joy or resolution."

**** Transliterate: to write or print a letter or word using the closest corresponding letters of a different alphabet or language. Modern transliteracy is the ability to read, write and interact across a range of platforms, tools and media from signing and orality through handwriting, print, TV, radio and film, to digital social networks.
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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:
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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.

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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].

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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
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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.

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* 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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Flea Market Under the Big Top

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Step right up! Step right up!

Have we got some great deals for you!

We, the apple-colored Barefoot Dirty Girls,

Red, Yellow and Green, are selling ourselves it all!

Come on down to 810 Fishback Street in Manteca, California!
Close out! We're selling it down to the bare lot!
(Gettin' the hell out of Manteca and movin' to Oregon!)

Just look for the For Sale signs on [almost] everything!

We've got vehicles galore!
Registered, unregistered,  shouldn't-be-legal, and inoperative!

Last-leg commercial equipment! Bally walk-in freezer (must take concrete pad too),
porch chest freezer, Kenmore upright freezer, Admiral refrigerator, Scotsman icemaker!

Tic-tac; Brick-a-brack; Give six dogs a bone!

Fixtures; Truck-sized cookware; Yard radio!

Junk items, all sorts; Really shitty stuff; Flotsam and Jetsam!

Experienced junk yard dogs; [Experienced?!] house dogs!

Klepto'd Amassed over years, sheltered forever!

We pass the stealings savings on to you!

Hurry, before it's all scrapped gone!

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(* Will trade for marijuana growing and processing apparatus *)

(Tokin' Takin' that to Oregon, too!)
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Admittedly, She's BAAAAACK!

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Yup, and she brought her L-130 Automatic John Deere Riding Mower back with her. Who knows what adventures they and this machine had together for the last week, while their yet-to-be-documented house-sitting, remodeling, foreign language speaking, work crew held down the home front.

And what's with that giant tent in their yard now? It beats me to hell all the shit they constantly haul onto their property! It's like living next to a cross-pollinated wrecking yard, flea market, and opium den.

Speaking of non-admissions, I obtained the following Request for Admissions from my attorney. The first two pages contain the statements I requested a long time ago that Lynda Allen and Theresa Brassey admit to:

Thes next two pages are the responses:

Notice the date of August 13, 2010 on the responses. It is now August 27, 2010 and the required verifications, signed by the defendants, have not yet appeared as promised two weeks ago. Either concious game-playing delay tactic, or pure, unconcious, second nature sloth and ineptitude.

What that means is, until verified, these responses are worth only what the paper would bring as recyclable wood fibers.

The attorney's say-so by itself ain't worth sh... "aving cream! Be nice and clean. Shave every day and you'll always look keen." (But we already knew that...) On the other hand, any statements ever made to me by the Ravaged Red BDG or the Mellow Yellow BDG - verbal or written, signed or sworn - have all been worth less than even wood fibers or an attorney's say-so.

Now that the Barefoot Dirty Girls are back from their big "cancer" scare, perhaps they will get back in the stirrups. (Or was that, saddle?) Oops.
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Decorating Tips For the Dragon Ladies

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"These six things doth the Supreme Generalissimo engender: yea, these seven abominations are marks of honor unto her: a proud look, a lying tongue, and hands that shred innocent peace, an heart that deviseth wicked imaginations, feet that be swift in running to mischief, a false witness that speaketh lies, and she that soweth discord among brethren." (paraphrased from Proverbs 6: 16-19)

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My, my! The Barefoot Dirty Girls' covered porch will very soon be the outdoor room that the wind-whipped gazebo tent never was. They have been assiduously furnishing it for weeks, scavenging every yard sale they pass, no doubt.

• It already has its own special, built-in ledge designed for Mellow Yellow's outdoor radio rock speaker. (With the speaker's impending court-ordered removal, my sincere hope is that she is not so stupid as to claim that moving the speaker inside a lattice-work qualifies as being "indoors".)

• It already has the round glass table top, hauled in last week by Red. (In case the pedestal didn't make it from the yard sale, the picture above is my suggestion for an appropriate pedestal to complement the collective personalities of the residents.)

• It already has some sort of Sony entertainment device, delivered in the back of a black pickup truck that was NOT marked "Geek Squad." (Alas, the truck also did NOT have flashing blue and red lights, like a police car does. If it had, the rejection of the first delivery attempt about 8:30 one night would not have happened, when the neighbors failed to recognize the urgency to answer their door or telephone.)

• It already has a chest freezer - a leftover TLC Catering business asset, which Red and Green accessed every morning between midnight and the 4:30 am catering truck departure. (The schemers are attempting to "convert" it to personal use. Next thing you know, they'll try to move the former business' outdoor refrigerator into the covered porch and claim it as personal use, also.)

Since Lynda says, "We like rednecks," I offer a few other items of redneck decor for their consideration.

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A Menagerie of Jabberwocks

From Mark Twain's letter to Julia Beecher, May 30, 1880. [Twain's friend Julia Beecher crafted entertaining figures from roots of trees and shrubs. The Hartford Daily Courant of June 7, 1880, p. 2 in a story titled "The Bazar" reported that Mr. Clemens "after successfully disposing of a number of articles in Booth J. generously offered to dispose of the booth itself and all the people in it, including himself, but as no satisfactory offers were made the lot was withdrawn."]

"I have arranged your Jabberwocks & other devils in procession according to number & rank, on the piano in the drawing-room, & in that subdued light they take to themselves added atrocities of form & expression, & so make a body's flesh crawl with pleasure. There is a compulsory fascination about them which has drawn me in there every half hour all day; every time I go they look more intelligent, more alive, more suggestive of a convention of Consciences met together to play roots on their poor human proprietors; (see my late Atlantic article.) If I come down at midnight (with my usual dose of hot-Scotch stowed) I shall very easily be able to imagine I see them climbing about the furniture, bearing their rigid tails on high & inspecting everything with their critical brass eyes. I tell you they are different creatures now from what they were this morning. Then, they were desiccated vague imitations of the familiar works of God, & soulless; now, they are real creatures out of Wonderland, secretly alive, natural, proper, & ungrotesque to eyes used to them in the world they came from -- & so they take the fiction all out of the Jabberwock & I recognize & accept him as a fact.
 
"You have had a genuine inspiration; you have wrought it out, not lamely, but to perfection. It is the most ingenious thing of this generation. I shall hate to see any of these enchanting monsters go out of the house; they grow so in grotesque grace, hour by hour; & the more of them there are in a group the happier is the effect. Make more--don't leave a root unutilized in Chemung county. But don't go to the last limit--that is, don't breathe actual life into them; for I know (if there is anything in physiognomy & general personal appearance) that they would all vote the Democratic ticket, every devil of them.

"P.S. These things shan't be fooled away at this fair; they've got to be sold at auction; & I mean to be the auctioneer."

(The preceding from the Twain Quotations website.)

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Definitely NO Mirrors!

The smashing of this narrow glass
Which lived to hurt and to harass
Pernicious magic; dark, arcane
Existed only to cause pain
The things it loved most to create
Were envy, rancor, gall and hate

It’s true intent was low and starker
Something deep and so much darker
It’s mission here upon the earth:
To prove that women have no worth
The things it hoped to bring about
Were fear, resentment and self doubt
To feed on woman’s greatest fears
And it had worked for many years


It made the mirror extremely glad
When a woman thought that she was bad
It was the foul mirror’s fondest dream
To obliterate all self-esteem

Out flew the web and floated wide
The mirror cracked from side to side
Good riddance to that harping witch!
That mirror was always such a bitch

(Excerpts from poetry of Edwina Peterson Cross)
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Timepiece, aka Chronometer (to limit the outdoor noise you create to only a couple hours a day)

You know, they say Classical music and math make people smarter. Incorporating things like this into the overall scheme couldn't hurt...

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Pinole Pest Control

The impending canine count contraction calls for quick control of uncouth quixotic creatures. Gnome Be Gone's, a predator NOT banned or limited by Manteca Municipal Code, are the perfect addition to porch. The importation of these cuddly helpers will:

• Prevent the threatened invasion of gnomes (other than current occupants)

• Add just the right touch to the porch's sanitary conditions, eradicating ants, mice, gophers, chickens, stray cats, small dogs (oops!), dropped crumbs and "day-old" sandwiches still left over from the catering trucks.

• Maintain the current ambience which exudes from the residence (Is that a steel magnolia?)

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Ann Kornuta

And don't forget a card table for the Scrabble game every evening...

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I cannot wait to see (and NOT hear) the results of BDG Interior Decorating's big adventure into the world of home makeovers.

(Actually, that should be BDG Exterior Decorating, since the porch does not have solid walls.)

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