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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BDG Pict-O-Graph For Manteca

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As of March 2011


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

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

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


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Trash v. Garbage

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


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

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

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

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

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

March 17, 2011

Re: Deficiencies at 810 Fishback Street

Dear Mr. Pinkerton,

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 The use was abandoned and their claim of legal designation was rescinded by the City of Manteca.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 There remain four unresolved points with the owners and the property, three of which are directly tied to this rescinded use, and all of which are under City of Manteca jurisdiction.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

Sincerely yours,

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

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

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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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Summary Judgment on Bong Art Copyright Ripoff

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Build This Bong: Instructions and Diagrams

for 40 Bongs, Pipes and Hookahs



Home-growing dopers can check out this
exciting DIY manual at this Amazon listing!

I just knew there might be something that Lyin' Lynda may be able to build without tarps. It's a very good thing, though, that she has Resectioned Red to keep her ass out of a legal sling, seeing as how R/R has Patent Office experience (yea, yea... that's gotta be close enough to copyright experience.)

Funny things come up when "summary judgment" is Googled (c).

Plaintiff author wins summary judgment on ripoff of bong illustration, below, from his book, above.

T-shirt defendant rips off inventor's published artwork


Two familiar-sounding quotes from the plaintiff's intellectual property attorney's blog (although L/L nor her attorney understand "intellectual" anything):

Defendant’s second argument disappeared like a puff of smoke, created by use for medicinal purposes only.

. . .

Defendant’s third argument, which may have been formulated in a smoke filled room, claimed...

Gee, those paragraph introductions sound like I could have written them.

It is very apparent that significant commonalities and impairments are shared by dope smokers, whether they live at 810 Fishback Street in the City of Manteca, or not.

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Manteca Sleeper Cell Pretends Christian Piety

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Recitation of facts

For history on the sudden appearance of the yard radio immediately after the lawsuit for illegal land use was filed on Lyin' Lynda in May 2009, see [this post]. This is how L/L added spiteful noise to nuisance noise for daring to question her bona fides (which she ain't got!)

In April 2010, L/L was charged with P.C. 415(2), Disturbing the Peace, with her outdoor radio playing. See [this post] for the back story.

In July 2010 the outdoor radio was rolled into the civil lawsuit charging illegal land use (catering business on a residential lot) and creating nuisance noise, see [this post].

On a repeat Disturbing the Peace offense, L/L was arrested on January 16th. See [this post] for the story of the citizen's arrest (catch and release).

Commentary on Lyin' Lynda'a statements to police

Crime Report 2011-1362 narrates the events surrounding Lyin' Lynda's latest arrest. The gist of the report is that the officer understood her phony call for police service ninety minutes earlier, he plainly saw her manipulative actions on that first visit, and he experienced her utter predictability for making a patience-straining nuisance of herself, necessitating my second call of the morning.

Give the bitch credit for BIG BRASSEY BALLS because, even in this extremity, straight from the horse's ass mouth came these two supposed defenses:

"Allen stated she was listening to Christian music and used her outdoor speakers because she did not have indoor speakers."

Never at any time have I differentiated what kind of music or sports L/L has played on her infernal radio. The responding officer apparently agreed with that stance; a noise disruption is a noise disruption, the "flavor" of the disruption makes no difference. There is no infringement on one's God-given right to worship how, where, or what one may, provided there is no infringement on another's right to do the same - in this case, quietly and without someone else's choice of music or sports being forced upon him.

Did I mention before that I believe NOTHING that comes out of that horse's ass mouth. Like lawyers, if Lyin' Lynda's mouth is moving, she's lying. One reason I find her lack of speakers defense totally unbelievable is that during the summer and fall of 2010 L/L spent tens of thousands of dollars on a total home makeover, inside and out, including a giant Sony TV for her north-facing bedroom living room, yet "she did not have indoor speakers."

A second reason I do not believe her "no speakers" statement is the existence of at least two stereo speaker systems in her piles of yard junk on June 5, 2010. And who knows how many rock speakers she has lying around, as well?

Of course, NONE of the foregoing will make any impression on L/L's drug-sotted mind. The only thing the officer told her - or, the only thing that caught her slow-witted attention - was this:

"Allen was also informed of the Manteca Municipal Ordinance which states she may be billed for police services should we be called again for the music."

Ah, finally! The police are talking her language, which is...

Prayer, no. Parsimony, yes!

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Just How Stupid Is This Woman?

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Tarp "sail" on left - January 26th
Tarp "roof extension" on right - January 31st

The only thing Lyin' Lynda knows how to do perfectly is... how to do everything wrong. Putting up these tarps is a perfect measure of L/L's mental capacities. When she paid all of Resectioned Red's inheritance money to contractors, the results look pretty good. (Of course, it wasn't until after the expenditures that L/L cottoned to the fact she couldn't sell the property.) But the instant she puts her amateurish hand to something like this, what we see is White Trash Architecture at its finest.

Other earlier examples:

Plywood sound barriers?



Randomly spaced picket offsets





Award-winning repurposed fence boards


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• Lyin' Lynda had a noisy and illegal business operation on her property. Was she stupid enough to think I would not pursue her with civil complaints throughout 2008 and a lawsuit in May 2009?
• Lyin' Lynda added to, then replaced, the business noise with yard radio nuisance noise. Was she stupid enough to think I would not pursue her with criminal charges in April 2010 and January 2011?
• Lyin' Lynda pretends she is Sarah Winchester and keeps building more shit without permits. Is she stupid enough to think I will not follow up with administrative complaints?
• Lyin' Lynda cannot read and she cannot count. (After all, she attended Pinole High School... just sayin’…) Why else would she be stupid enough to ignore the law and keep six dogs? Does she not know I will assist her to overcome her deficiencies? And her excesses?
• Lyin' Lynda got an "owie" and took "medical retirement;" now she and her lovers gotta smoke "medical" marijuana just to make it through the long daylight hours. (Don't worry, they got each other to keep warm at night.) Was she stupid enough to think I would not ensure that her home-growing operation met city code, especially since it is right next to a high school? Is she still stupid enough to think I will not watch for illegal actions regarding her new venture?
• Lyin' Lynda has since October 2010 harassed me with unwarranted video surveillance. Was she stupid enough to think I would not return her favors with my own counter-surveillance?

The depths of this depraved soul's double standard are manifest in her blocking my cameras’ views, but leaving her camera’s view unblocked. (Whatcha' got to hide, L/L?)

Does this stupid woman not know I will continue pursuing the objective of improving the world ridding her from my life.

What this stupid woman has never figured out in the four years I’ve been helping her can never figure out is that the fence line is where her intrusions must STOP! (Somehow, she views the fence as her jumping off point…?)

Illegal businesses and noise…
Outside radio…
Dogs, cats, chickens…
Building permit violations…
Marijuana smoke…
Surveillance…

If Lyin’ Lynda’s presence STOPPED at the fence line, we could live in peace.

As long as she continues intruding her presence, we live at war.

Ignorance, laziness, willfulness, and other human conditions can be controlled or improved, with varying degrees of success. But STUPID cannot be fixed – and DRUGGED STUPID is unalterable. As long as this stupid woman continues to contravene law, ignore city codes, harass her neighbors, and intrude her abjectly pathetic life onto others, I will continue to wear the title…

"Lyin' Lynda's... Warden?... Babysitter?... Neighbor From Hell?"

Ah, here's a simple test of the reader's knowledge of human nature: Two parties call each other the Neighbor From Hell. One of the parties vehemently denies the label and clamors unceasingly regarding innocence. The other party reluctantly accepts the label, knowing from the beginning that the badge would be pinned on him, yet must continue the fight despite the fiery darts of the adversary.

"That is the question:
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,
And by opposing end them?"

(Hamlet, Act 3, Scene 1)

That is the "Solomonic" question: Which one is the Neighbor From Hell?

I loosely paraphrase Ford Prefect in The Ultimate Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy,

If Lyin' Lynda doesn’t keep exercising her lips, her mouth would probably seize up. After a few months’ consideration and observation he abandoned this theory in favor of a new one. If she doesn’t keep on exercising her lips, her brain would start working. After a while he abandoned this one as well as being obstructively cynical.

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Hell On Wheels Grinds (Exceedingly) Slowly Along

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Did Lyin' Lynda charge a modeling fee for this? her normal posture?

Where to begin talking about complete and utter ineptitude*?!

Today there was a scheduled Case Management Conference before the judge of the pending civil suit against "Lyin' Lynda" Allen and Theresa A "Resectioned Red" Brassey, at which meeting:

• Plaintiff's attorney appeared in person
• Plaintiff's case management statement was filed earlier, as required
• Plaintiff's Motion for Summary Judgment was filed earlier
• Defendants' attorney failed to appear, in person or by telephone
• Defendants failed to appear pro per
• Defendants failed to file a case management statement, as required

Where were the Defendants? Who knows? They were up waddling around early this morning, packing their little Playmate(c) coolers, preparing to go screw off somewhere for the day. The only mind (wrong word?) they've paid this lawsuit is to ignore it and drag it out as long as possible.

Where was their White Knight, the kid from Farmers Insurance Company, their "free" attorney? Who knows? Did Farmers finally come to the realization that they - and the company's policyholders - have also been thoroughly screwed by Lynda and Theresa?

Will any of them deign to answer the current Motion, or to show up at the Motion hearing in April?

Who knows? Who cares? {shrug} The BDG's have their heads up their asses... or each other's asses, more likely.

Now the Games can really begin...
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- - - - - - - - - - -
in·ept (adj) 1. Not apt or fitting; inappropriate; unsuitable; out of place. 2. absurd or foolish: an inept remark. 3. a. Displaying a lack of judgment, sense, or reason; foolish: an inept remark. b. Awkward, bungling or clumsy; haplessly incompetent: inept handling of the account. 4. Without skill or aptitude for a particular task or assignment; maladroit: "Red is inept at mechanical tasks" "Yellow is inept at dealing with people" "Green is inept at everything else"

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Difficile Est Saturam Non Scribere

Translation of title: "It is hard NOT to write satire."

Juvenal, Satire I

45 Why tell how my heart burns dry with rage when I see the people hustled by a mob of retainers attending on one who has defrauded and debauched his ward, or on another who has been condemned by a futile verdict — for what matters infamy if the cash be kept? The exiled Marius carouses from the eighth hour of the day and revels in the wrath of Heaven, while you, poor Province, win your cause and weep!

Juvenal, Satire X

It is on her passion that a bad woman's whole nature centers.

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January 19th: Upcoming ADR Review Hearing

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Hmmm... where is that devilish detail when you need it?


Since the defendants have no case (only unsupported, whiney objections and protestations from Lyin' Lynda), with any luck, the case will be calendared for trial.

Unless, of course, a Plaintiff's Motion for Summary Judgment, now being prepared for filing, is granted.

The case report below is found on the San Joaquin County Courts website:

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BDG's Pour Fuel on the Fire

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Ever since I insisted (eventually via a lawsuit) that the BDG's stop their noisy and illegal business operation, they have retaliated with MORE intrusive noise and invasive surveillance of MY property.

A well-meaning, kindly old dweeb recently advised me that to continue blogging about Lynda Allen is like "pouring fuel on the fire." The messenger was intending to de-escalate any hostilities perpetrated by the Three Beaches toward me, but in the real world was like telling Lord Chamberlain to placate Adolf Hitler. Everyone knows how well that appeasement strategy worked out prior to World War II erupting and sweeping the nations.

You know the old sayings:

• The night is always darkest before the dawn.
• Things usually get worse before they get better.

That is certainly the case with any attempts to communicate with, or accommodate, or ignore, Lynda Allen, Theresa Brassey, or Cornelia Green. These three assholes feed off each other and are beyond any sane or rational interpersonal skills. The only time their world view includes others is when they can impose their noxious toxic selves on the others.

At lunchtime today there was ANOTHER guy with a truck and a ladder crawling around on the BDG's property and house. Why? you ask. It appears that the paranoid pussies can't get enough of what they never get are rearranging their CCD surveillance cameras and needed a new cable strung. It was strung externally because they don't want to contaminate the sanctity of Felix's cable-crawling in the attic. (More likely, there are too many bats in that belfry already.) Where does the cable go?

New cable strung from outbuilding to... where?

Ah, there it is. A second camera mounted under the gable eaves to survey my front yard. (Right next to the first one that spies on my bedroom window.)

A second camera mounted under the BDG's eaves
to capture my front yard

This brought up a corollary question - Does this new camera affect their other two spy cameras out back? Sure enough, the camera that used to watch gophers dig tunnels in my back yard has been moved up front, where it's sure to get more "play time."

If Lyin' Lynda and her live-in lovers keep pouring evil, volatile fuels on the situation, even a small spark could... quite possibly... ignite a conflagration.

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Abstract Discussion of No Mediation in Particular

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A Day of Dredging For Pearls in the Swineyard

Let me be perfectly clear - I cannot tell you anything about yesterday's mediation set-to, or you'd have to kill me... or sue me... or threaten to sue me... or call me bad names... or step up some indeterminate harassment activity... or something... I think… Are we clear? (Actually, I think Lynda would be happy to accept any size rub-out contract. Hell, she'd probably do it for free.)

You see, we were made to sign this long-ass document, printed on 50-lb, high rag content, colored-to-look-like-parchment paper, which had at least eleven paragraphs and numerous obscure references to totally opaque, serialized sections of something called the CCP. (It ain't called a Code for nothin’ and I think this gobbledy-gook CCP is where lawyers get their secret passwords and handshakes that exclude the unwashed masses from meddling in their solicitous divinations; you know, the second oldest profession in the world, where johns clients pay to be fondled manipulated until they feel really, really good, hoping for a happy ending.) The upshot of the parchment scroll was to call the entire afternoon's doings a secret, cloaked in mystery, and locked away as an enigma [h/t Churchill], forever more... forever more... to be referred to henceforth only as That-Which-Cannot-Be-Mentioned. Its official-sounding title is Non-Disclosure Agreement (NDA).

However, at the risk of losing my family jewels, I will tell you that the high point of this consensus building farce, this complete and utter waste of time and money, this totally unnecessary circus act hoop set up for the performance by caged animals (litigants) for the amusement and enrichment of spectators (trial lawyers), under the indefensible pretense that an emotions-guided, endocrine-powered, brain dead, irrational person can be "helped" to arrive at a sane and reasonable settlement {breathe}... Where am I? Oh, yes, the high point came during one of the interminable breaks while the mediator was "facilitating" the defendant's "undue process," when my attorney noted a framed print of a sailing vessel on the conference room wall and launched into an exposition of the design differences between single-mast sloops, double-mast ketches, and two- or three-mast schooners.

Uhmm... is this one going to be on the test?

I paid close attention half a mind to sailing because the other half wandered off to marvel at the illegal and immoral bestial treatment Lynda Allen, et al, forced upon Roger and Flora Stewart for twenty years, and why said defendant is so like a burdened backcountry burro, which will on a whim dig in its heels and even sit on its ass to avoid the inevitable stream crossing. After all, one has to cross the Jordan River to arrive at the beautiful shore. All in all, my attorney’s discourse was a most expensive lecture on the arcane art of sailing vessel rigging; but he, of course, will tell me it was complimentary (a "comp" for all you casino gamblers out there); however, I view it more like a cheap, plastic toy in a box of Cracker Jacks © co-packed under the Niemen Marcus © label.

Fortunately, we were interrupted and pressed back into our titular Salvador Dali orgy before he could drag in keel-less dinghies or the rum-running cutters of a past era. Still, I cannot, nor do I care to, go into the details of the countless proposals and counter-proposals made by the parties, since they were all trivial, meaningless really, mere martial sparring on a different killing field. Nor can I comment on, nor confirm or deny, any settlement reached.

Defendant preparation consists of long hits of homegrown weed

Again putting my family jewels on the line, my biggest heartache is the rejection I suffer daily from my inconsiderate neighbor. How can she be so insensitive to set aside so lightly the attentions I pay to her? Who else writes poems about her exploitations? Who else considers her every scuffing step, her every shuffling move, her every shrill, whiney cry over commissaries and dogs, catering trucks and dogs, travel trailers and dogs, Raiders Radio and dogs, foreign language speaking handymen and dogs, and openly grown weed and the self-medicated doggie-doctors who write Medical Marijuana Recommendations? Why does she give herself, lickety-split*, to another… to more than one other? Why does she Go Green when her main squeeze goes under the knife? The only consolation I can extend is the possibility that her life partner returns completed - and with today's technologies and materials, perhaps more than whole - with perky, bouncy, revitalized and chewable virtually indestructible Big Brassy [sp?] Boobs! What a complement that would be to her own pair of Big Brassy Balls, which were on exhibitionistic display for all to see yesterday (along with the noted, most obvious odor of Sierra High © mary janes wafting reeking from her clothes and person to fill the mediator's office.)

Did you ever think that lawyers possess certain traits - in spades - in common with practitioners of the world’s oldest profession these women? Boy, can they ever dish dirt on each other! I’m guessing the comments of the lifer lawyers regarding the light C.V. and off-topic experience of the fresh-faced Farmer’s Insurance paid shill were supposed to ingratiate themselves to me, but the feeling I took away was towering anger that my legal bill skyrockets while some punk kid with a new sheepskin from Podunk U. Law cuts his teeth at Auntie Lyn’s breast. [I misspoke; the mere thought of letting a man that close to her is abhorrent to her.] She probably schmoozed him into believing that she is the Grandfather Grandmother of All Good and his teeth sticking out through his upper lip is a normal sign of growing up.

I came across a .pdf report the other day, published by the American Journal of Mediation - for anyone who has any interest whatsoever - about the fifteen common reasons for mediation failures and the few clichéd pablums** for achieving a successful outcome.

But I still can't tell you the outcome.

Back on October 22nd (and posted for you all to read on November 19th) I outlined for my attorney an objective measure of Lickety-Split Lynda's prospective cooperation, to wit:

The [surveillance] cameras must be removed forthwith; else the presumption of good faith in mediation [on December 7th] will be nullified.

The measure: The cameras are still up and operational on December 8th.

Combining Lyin' Lynda's history and the objective measure above, any rational, reasonable person can guess the outcome without me saying it.
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* lickety-split

Meaning: headlong, at full speed.

Origin: This is an American phrase in origin, possibly with Scottish influences, and isn't commonly used in other countries. Lickety may be taken from lick, meaning speed - as in 'going at quite a lick'. That usage is known by the early 19th century. For example, this piece from Thomas Donaldson's Poems, chiefly in the Scottish dialect, 1809:

"Ere I get a pick, In comes young Nannie wi' a lick."

It is variously spelled in early citations but, whatever the spelling, it is just as likely to be a nonsense word, not pertaining to anything in particular. The first record of it in print is in D. McKillop's Poems, 1817:

"I rattl'd owre the A, B, C, as fast as lickitie An' read like hickitie."

The hiciktie in that line may be a version of heck - itself a euphemism for hell. I can't find out anything about Mr. McKillop but I would guess he was a Scottish gentleman - Donaldson certainly was. Lickitie in that spelling certainly wouldn't look out of place in Scotland.

The second word of the term is just an intensifier, and 'split' was settled on eventually. That is first cited in American Speech, 1848, as 'lickoty split'. Lickety may have been imported into the USA via immigration from Scotland. Split seems to have been added in the USA.

The many variations on 'lickety split', for example 'licketty cut', 'lickety click', 'lickoty split' suggest an invented onomatopoeic phrase. It is suggestive of phrases like clickety-click which mimic trains running across points.

Also of American origin is the more recent vulgar usage of the term to mean cunnilingus. This isn't common even in the USA and dates from the 1960s. It first appeared in print in the jokes section of Playboy Magazine, January 1970, in a joke about Mae West which I'll leave to your imagination.

** pablum 1. (Trademark) a Canadian brand of soft, bland cereal for infants 2. (lowercase) (n) trite, naive, or simplistic ideas or writings; intellectual pap.

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