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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Draft Mediation Letter

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{Pssst! Someone buy "A is for Asshole" on Amazon and read it to Lynda.}

My attorney asked me for a *short* draft mediation letter outlining the case and my expected outcomes from next week's mediation session. The letter, he said, will be forwarded to the mediator and to the defendants in advance of the session.

For the loyal supporters following the lawsuit, you will find nothing new here. For the rest of you, the points are focused versions of the three aims I spelled out two and one-half years ago, on April 4, 2008, in a letter to the City of Manteca:

My aims are threefold. (1) The immediate need is nighttime noise cessation. (2) The next goal, in the short term, is to have the City of Manteca spell out for me and my neighbors the legal responsibilities (and necessary formal variances!) this business has in a residential neighborhood. (3) My long term goal (and the Planning Department’s goal?) is to have the business assets and operations removed from the property (perhaps to a commercial zone?)



You will see below only slight wording changes in those aims, even though in April 2008 everyone was still suckered by Lyin' Lynda's big lie... you know, the one about how she was running a "legally grandfathered business." {Pish!} A fourth aim of mine, since the necessity of a lawsuit was forced on me, is to lay the costs of exterminating these roaches this sordid affair on the guilty parties.

BEHLING v. ALLEN, et al.
Case # 39-2009-00212085-CU-OR-STK
Mediation letter
November 29, 2010


Plaintiff charges the defendants with noise nuisance caused by reason of their illegal land use of operating the business known as TLC Catering and commissary from their residential property zoned R-1. Prior to the lawsuit, all municipal administrative remedies were denied to plaintiff. Upon filing this suit, the defendants immediately engaged in retaliatory noise increases, which were made part of the first amended pleadings. Soon after the first amendment, unwarranted and harassing closed circuit digital (CCD) camera surveillance of plaintiff on his property commenced.


Plaintiff’s aim is to live in peaceful and quiet enjoyment of his adjoining residential property by:


A) stopping the incessant noise nuisances and retaliatory intrusions emanating from 810 Fishback Street, including business uses and noises, all-day/every-day harassment playing of the yard radio since June 4, 2009, and intrusive, overreaching use of CCD infrared surveillance cameras since October 11, 2010;


B) obtaining a complete recision and extinguishment of the deceitfully gained June 1993 “legal, nonconforming” use designation for 810 Fishback Street either by defendants’ sworn statement of confession, or by City of Manteca’s written determination, or by Superior Court order;


C) effecting the cleanup and rehabilitation of 810 Fishback Street to residential only use by complete removal or demolition from the property of all assets - buildings, structures, vehicles, equipment, appliances, fixtures, inventories, etc. - used in conducting the business from 1987 to 2010 (preliminary asset list is attached); and


D) recovering plaintiff’s costs, damages, and legal fees incurred to obtain obstinate defendants’ compliance with state laws, municipal ordinances, and common courtesies.

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

Preliminary asset list of TLC Catering and commissary


(This is plaintiff’s list because attempts to verify these assets, first by interrogatory, then by demand for production of acquisition documents, again by request for admissions, and finally by request for on-site inspection, have in all cases produced only non-response or evasions by the defendants.)


Mobile home, license # FQ1259


Covered dirt floor structure behind mobile home (eastward) and all equipment in it


Trailmobile refrigerated shipping container behind the mobile home (eastward)


Grease barrel storage corral and grease barrels


Two (2) Mobile Food Preparation Units (MFPUs, or catering trucks)


One Vending truck


One trash truck


Covered concrete floor structure on the north property line


Equipment and appliances on the north property line:

• Scotsman icemaker and condenser
• Follett ice storage/dispensing bin
• Admiral freezer/refrigerator combo
• Kenmore upright freezer
• Bally walk-in freezer

Chest freezer on covered porch attached to east side of main dwelling


Outdoor radio mounted on outbuilding


Surveillance cameras


All other unverified buildings, structures, vehicles, equipment, appliances, fixtures, parts stocks, inventories, and detritus currently or formerly used in the nonconforming uses

- - - - - - - - -

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The BDG's: All Evil Eyes, Ill Wills (and Big Mouths)

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The following letter has gone on record prior to the proposed Alternative Dispute Resolution (ADR) session [voluntary mediation] on Pearl Harbor Day, December 7, 2010. Because I can think of no instance wherein Lyin' Lynda or Ravaged Red have demonstrated one iota of good faith since November 13, 1987, my hopes for resolution short of Summary Judgment range from slim to none.

- - - - -

My memo to my attorney requesting the letter above:
October 22, 2010

...

Please send a letter to the counsel for defendants, Lynda Allen and Theresa Brassey, demanding that their CCD surveillance cameras be removed. This action is similar to the earlier letter of demand that the nuisance outdoor yard radio be removed.

Beginning October 11, 2010, comes the defendants’ latest intrusion - CCD surveillance cameras, which represents Lynda Allen's middle finger in the air. The cameras were placed to observe both sides of the property line fence, not the defendants’ side alone. The only purpose discernible from the cameras’ placements is to continue the annoyance of the plaintiff and to daily project the defendants’ ill will onto my yard, my home, and my life. The cameras must be removed forthwith; else the presumption of good faith in mediation will be nullified.

Recitation of prior actions: The all-day/all-night noise from their illegal TLC Catering business was an insufferable intrusion onto plaintiff’s property. After serving the nuisance lawsuit on the defendants, within weeks they installed an outdoor radio speaker, closely on their side of the property line fence, in a retaliatory addition to, and continuation of, the business noise intrusion. After the cessation of the catering business a few months later (February 2010 and still not admitted by the defendants) relieved part of the problem, the outdoor radio nuisance continues fourteen hours a day, seven days a week. The defendants’ malicious use of the radio has resulted in many police calls and a “disturbing the peace” infraction. The still unresolved radio nuisance was added to the original lawsuit through an amended pleading.

The continued actions and non-responses of defendants, Lynda Allen and Theresa Brassey, nearly approach those of Catherine Cass in the attached unpublished California Court of Appeals opinion from 2008, having the aspects of a permanent nuisance.

Sincerely yours,
...

Attachment: Wallace v. Cass, G036490, Court of Appeals of California, Fourth Appellate District, Division Three, March 10, 2008.

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"I'll See You Out In The Shed! ...NOW!"

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This whole fight over noise started with the Scotsman icemaker - and it appears Allen & Brassey are leaving that P.O.S. machine and its shed for the last. The picture was taken to document the expansion of the already-illegal erection. Currently, the BDGs have sealed it up with tarps to conceal their movements and have to use fans for ventilation.

The shanty shed dates back to the illegal business expansion of TLC Catering in 1993-94. After A&B dodged a zoning complaint bullet, they lied their asses off and conned officials into granting them "grandfathered" land use status. Immediately thereafter they ignored the non-expansion instruction and built themselves a commissary on the property to service all their trucks. From my researched report:

"Yet the TLC Life just kept getting better! Emboldened by Manteca's emasculation, three months later Allen & Brassey assumed home occupation (land use) permission from Health Department (food sanitation) permits and made an application payment to EHD to establish and operate a private commissary, naming their property at 810 Fishback Street as the location for inspections.[Z] (The current Manteca code enforcement officer opined that Allen & Brassey were merely attempting to “legalize” what they had been doing “since they moved in.” When did they move in? Sorry, but they still need a land use permit.) The nine months following September 1993, was likely the period when a walk-in freezer and a refrigerated shipping container were hauled onto the property, refrigerators and freezers were plugged in everywhere, lights and floodlights strung up, and an ancient, noisy icemaker was improperly installed. The illegal mobile home, that longstanding error, was swallowed up in the larger commissary operation, pieces of which were scattered all around the property. The following June, the Health Department plan checks were done and in July 1994, EHD issued a Commissary Permit to the owners of TLC Catering. Again assuming nonexistent permissions, Allen & Brassey began taking commercial deliveries to their property, something expressly prohibited for home occupations. They were now set with four catering trucks, a fully equipped private commissary, and commercial vendors whose big trucks delivered supplies and services to their doorstep... they were unstoppable."

A big concrete pad was poured to support the installation of the Bally walk-in freezer, the Scotsman icemaker, and other refrigerators and freezers used in the business. The posts and fiberglass roofing were put up to protect the appliances, as well as all the other crap Allen & Brassey crammed in there.

The following description of the shed was sent to the city and - no surprise - no action was taken.

Tue 12/29/2009 4:08 PM
New Request # 329034
The Problem you submitted was:
Request type: Permits
Description: A noncompliant and unpermitted accessory covered structure was built along the lot’s north property line, in the fourteen-foot space between a permitted outbuilding and the wooden fence on the property line. Recent noncompliant additions have been made to it.

The structure consists of a concrete pad, approximately 43 feet long and 14 feet wide, formed and poured to within 6 inches of the fence posts. A 31-foot run of roofing is supported on the north side by 4 x 4 uprights. Some uprights are set back approximately 24 inches from the fence, others only 6 inches. The other side of the structure is attached to the outbuilding, under 20 feet of eaves. The green corrugated fiberglass roofing material is cut immediately above the wooden fence and pitched to drain its runoff, and the runoff from the outbuilding’s overhanging eaves, right on top of the fence. The runoff has led to serious deterioration of fence posts and boards.

The purpose of the structure is to house various machinery and appliances. This means that the electrical wiring, plumbing and drainage may also be noncompliant. Indeed, a short popped a circuit breaker a few months ago, which led to some rewiring.

Drainage is a big problem. One of the machines under this structure continuously drains directly onto the concrete pad. Because the property’s elevation is several inches higher than the adjoining property, the water flows, first, onto the ground at the fence line, then onto the adjoining property, causing a mosquito-breeding habitat. Added to that water flow is the roof runoff, mentioned above.

The combined factors of a declining elevation gradient, the concrete pad on Manteca’s soft soil, no footings or soil retention devices, runoff drainage problems, the continuous drainage and intense vibration from one of the machines, and heavy use of the structure has caused soil slumping evidenced by a pronounced bow in the fence.

I am seeking extensive rebuilding - or better yet, outright demolition - of this noncompliant and unpermitted structure on my fence line. In addition to the damages listed above (and some not listed), it is an unsightly intrusion.

The response from code enforcement was, loosely paraphrased, "I can't find my own ass because it's too dark around here." (Hey, have someone take a picture of your ass and Twitter it to you! Buncha' prima donna top models...)

It's time again to shine a light on the shed and Manteca's C.E. geniuses.

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Absent Mind, Absently Noisy and Wasteful

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

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



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

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

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

Here is how the crop looked on July 8th.

Here is how the crop looks now.

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

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

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

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

Motion to Amend Complaint is Filed

.
My attorney and I met this morning to finish up the Amended Complaint (or Pleading) and it has now been filed with the Superior Court in Stockton. The other documents, Points and Authorities in Support and Notice of Motion to Amend, etc., were included in the court filing. A hearing on the motion is scheduled for September 1st.

A proposal to stipulate (agree and end this litigation) accompanied the required service of these filings on the Defendants.

The initial complaint, filed fourteen months ago, has been amended or "tightened up" to focus on the longstanding illegality of operating TLC Catering and Commissary at 810 and 812 Fishback Street, Manteca, CA 95337, and the incessant noise nuisance the operation produced 24/7 for many years, but especially the last three and one-half years. The Amended Complaint has two attachments: 1) the June 1993 letter from the City of Manteca granting legal nonconforming status to the illegal business use, and 2) the June 2010 affidavit from Ben Cantu recanting his 1993 determination, based on good, solid research refuting the Defendants' deceit and misrepresentations (legalese for lies.)

The prayer is for a declaration on the matter of law (the use was never grandfathered) and two injunctions, one regarding the business operations and assets (cessation and removal from property) and another for the bad faith retaliation of the outdoor radio (removal.)

I already have my bets placed on the expected response from the Defendants, Mellow Yellow and Ravaged Red. Here's how I see their entire defense going:

"But, Yer 'Oner, lookit alla For Sale signs we have on eve'thin'! We's so poor it's hard ta get BBQ and sodas onna table ever' night. (Never mind that house remodel thing...) 'Sides, lookit, we tore down the mobile home, what musta been legal 'cause it was on the place when we bought it... uh, when it was cuntry. Ya know, we's from the Bay Area and we gave good service in Tracy for 25 years. Ever'body says so. We all'ays had Health permits... musta just 'overlooked' licensing the business thing for 23 years. {shrug} Just sayin'... Oh, an' anuther thing - the icemaker - it DOESN'T run all night! It had some kinda timer on it, or sumpthin'. Fact is, we turned it off last January or February... tried to sell it, too, but it wouldn't run. Go, Raiders! Sorry, jus' gettin' wound up... {Lynda abruptly wanders away from the witness box as she trails off the last sentence.}"

See? They ain't got nuthin' else, 'ceptn' s.o.s.* from city council meetin'.

- - - - - - -
* same old s**t
.

NFH Recidivism*

.

(Image by Steve Cox)

Oh, yesss!... Mr. Cox has captured the essential, empty natures of the Barefoot Dirty Girls. The likenesses and relationships are nearly perfect. [Note: Requested minor changes before purchase: (1) The Alpha Female here is depicted larger than the others. Could you, perhaps, physically stunt the dirty blonde to 4½ - 5 feet? And more gnome-like?; (2) Is it possible to make the redhead "wider", without losing the look of gauntness?; (3) Turn the green hair grey and put a little "pooch" in the tummy; and, (4) Put the Alpha Female and green/grey/hair in sports bras!]

. . .

Small habits well pursued betimes

May reach the dignity of crimes.

Hannah More

. . .

As a dog returneth to his vomit, so a fool returneth to his folly.

Proverbs 26:11

. . .

Wouldn't you know it? The BDGs, who like dogs have pissed all over  "marked" their territory by playing a yard radio daily from 07:00 hrs to bedtime, and insistently maintain their folly, have decided they can again afford to ramp up their nuisance.

Since the weekend of May 15-16, the neighbors have been entertaining a foreign language-speaking, two-man construction crew, and accompanying their work with the strains of Mega 100.1 FM, KQOD, Stockton. The "happy" sounds of power saws, hammers, scraping shovels, and the cycling of (icemaker-sounding) air compressors for pneumatic stapling and nailing have overlaid the radio for over a month. The dilatory** construction schedule appears to be a combination of several factors: lack of permits, lack of drawings (buying lumber one piece at a time), lack of brains among all parties, among many other items. When the "overlooked" [Lynda's favorite word] porch rebuild permit was finally secured, the re-roof project was suspended and the dogs returned to their vomit, so to speak. The overriding objective, of course, is the neighbors' tenuously legal ability to stretch another noise nuisance over the longest possible period of time.

Tuesday of this week, however, the owners experimented with... {wait for it...} turning the radio volume up! So it was that at 16:42 hrs the decibel level jumped until bedtime. Of course, they are sending the crew away later and later as construction continues until dark, as a forthcoming chart clearly shows. Thank God the summer solstice is only days away - and the daylight get shorter and shorter.

Thursday, the radio was re-tuned at 11:38 hrs to a foreign language station and the volume cranked crazy high, enough to be heard over the power tools being employed, including the BDGs' leaf blower (or string trimmer, or whatever-the-hell other power equipment they use to maintain their gravel business yard.) How can one take a lunch time nap with all that racket? If you have ever thought how irritating the play-by-play announcer is at any sporting event, just try listening to one who doesn't speak the official language of this country and is broadcasting his monotonous tripe to a worldwide audience. At 13:50 hrs the station was reset to Mega 100.1 FM but the volume was not reduced.

But for the reason of the BDGs' stinkin' thinkin' outlined above (and documented long ago), I can handle reasonable construction sounds. On the other hand, lest the BDGs think I will allow them to broadcast to the neighborhood the Fédération Internationale de Football Association (FIFA) World Cup Fútbol games from now through July 21st, it's only fair to warn them that I consider ANYTHING coming from the yard radio a disturbance of my peace and will be dealt with according to California's Penal Code, Section 415 (2).

. . .

But it is happened unto them according to the true proverb,

The dog is turned to his own vomit again;

and the sow that was washed to her wallowing in the mire.

2 Peter 2:22

. . .

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
* recidivism (n)  gen.  a tendency to relapse into a previous condition or mode of behavior ; spec.  a negatively connoted repeated relapsing into unhealthy, criminal, nuisance, or delinquent behavior.
(v) a tendency to recidivate.
(adj) re·cidi·vistic, re·cidi·vous
[Recidivism is a common term used when speaking of the revolving door of a "Corrections" facility. From recidivist, one who recidivates, from French récidiviste, from récidiver, to relapse, from Medieval Latin recidvre, from Latin recidvus, falling back, from recidere, to fall back : re-, re- + cadere, to fall; see kad- in Indo-European roots.]

** dilatory (adj) 1 : tending or intended to cause delay 2 : characterized by procrastination : tardy Intentionally delaying (someone or something); slow or tardy; intended to cause delay, gain time, or defer decision
[15th century, Middle English, from Anglo-French dilatorie, Late Latin dilatorius, from Latin differre (past participle dilatus) to postpone, differ]
.

She and Her Old John Deere...

Yep, these {women} could have a lucrative career making cover art for country music albums. Just dress up these 50++ {cough} seductresses {cough} in light pink sports bras (?), khaki shorts, white socks and gray boots, and pose them draped over the hood of a vintage John Deere riding mower.

(Wow! That sports bra proves the old, amended, sayin' that "Some [imaginary] things are best left to the imagination"... and that mid-drift is no longer mid-... it done drifted eastward, westward and southward!)

Nevertheless - Voila! - Compelling illustrative art for Vince Gill's song, "One More Last Chance."

…
Well, she might’ve took my car keys
But she forgot about my old John Deere.


Give me just'a one more last chance
Before you say, “We’re through.”
I know I drive you crazy, baby;
It’s the best that I can do.


We’re just some good ol’ boys, a-makin’ noise...
…

Boy, howdy! Such was the sight and sounds at 7:20 this morning. Nothing stirs the blood (or boils it!) and awakens the soul to the endless, unattainable, possibilities of the day like the vision of Corky piloting a John Deere mower the size and sound of an alfalfa cutter around their postage-stamp front lawn. (And, if she lets her naturally grey Marge Simpson (c) hair grow a little - and overhauls her wardrobe - she could look just like Pink on that tractor. The resemblance is so unnerving it's scary!) I'm also positive that two dozen passes barely guarantee that every single blade of grass - or weed - comes under the swath of the giant cutter - twice or thrice.

Incidentally, this green and yellow internal combustion machine with a huge vacuum system was likely the instrument of compassion used in the BDGs' capacity as Florence Nightingale when "I [Lynda] took care of the... the owners of that house we took care of 'til they passed away. And then the daughter come in, and somehow they..." {and she trails off, as usual}

Today promised to be a hot 'un, so the chore just HAD to be done as early as possible. Of course, there MAY have been another reason to fire up the machine so early... given that the "hot day" argument did not compel the massive mowing of the teeny-tiny patch of grass in the business yard out back until an hour later, at 8:20. Perhaps breakfast intervened... or they were waiting for verification that I was awake.

Maybe they should start the next bi-diem* or semi-weekly** or weekly*** grass cutting at 6:00 a.m. so as not to conflict with the 7:00 a.m. yard radio startup**** - or with breakfast.

(Hello, MPD? She's riding her old John Deere around again in tight little circles... Yeah, I know... "You can take the girl out of the country, but you can't take the...")

- - - - - - - - - -
* bi-deim - occuring every two days.
** semi-weekly - occuring twice a week.
*** weekly - occuring once a week.
**** never - occurrence of thought by a BDG.
.

Santa Claus' Radio Room at the Top of the Rainbow

.
As we wait... and wait... for the court to get around to docketing the misdemanor charge, it is time to recap the pervasive and invasive nature of Three Beaches (five) dogged determination to perpetuate the "feeling" of a business establishment on BOTH of our residential properties. (Of course, their property retains the "business look" with all of the vehicles, structures, equipment, appliances, and fixtures still illegally residing where they have for twenty-three years.)

The BDGs began their Great White Noise Cover-Up in June 2009 by installing the outdoor radio speaker. But, because of the continuous icemaker noise, the 3:00 a.m. hour-long Ice Bucket Brigade, the 4:30 roach coach departure, and the diesel-powered vendor delivery trucks, the afternoon radio usage was the least of the noise pollution.

With the January 2010 icemaker shutdown and the February 2010 discontinuance of the catering truck runs, the radio nuisance came into its own - finally assuming the true malicious reason for its existence. As the chart below shows, its scheduled use also elongated from their former afternoon return time of approx. 13:15 hrs to its present daily startup of 07:00 hrs.

• 
  
  The blue line shows the BDGs consistent (and illegal) start time at 07:00 hrs over three months. The once a week dips to 08:00 hrs is the "bone" they toss me on Sunday mornings before turning on gospel rock. How "Christian" of them... 
• 
  
  The pink line shows how the BDGs average bedtime has slipped as the Spring days got longer and stayed lighter - until they got TV. 
• 
  
  The yellow line and data points are the difference between the daily start time and the daily stop time. It shows how many hours each day the radio speaker is broadcasting into my house and yard. 
• 
  
  Linear trendline analysis shows that daily radio nuisance increased from just over 12 hours to just under 13 hours daily (average 12.27 hours.)

My best guess is that Mega 100.1 FM, KQOD Stockton was the station the Barefoot Dirty Girls treated themselves to (and to their poor customers) while plying their ancient trade on the streets of Tracy, California - as referred to last Christmas morning.

Oh, what was that noise? My ears took the hit!

'Twas the loud strains of soft rock that accompany the shit

Served up from the roach coach they defensively guard

Within the bleak compound of their half-acre yard.

The serenades, football games, news breaks with smokes,

Station identifications, the advertising blokes -

It goes on all day and well into the night.

Just their way of saying, "Yep, we're here to spite!"

 
Noise is so hard-wired into their reptilian neuro-circuitry that they appear unable to function in its absence - they HAVE TO create noise to prove their existence, an external manifestation of their self-loathing, refusing to live quietly inside their own heads, allowing nothing but self-chosen stimulus to block out the world around them. This radio, a po'-mouth perversion of Muzak (c), is supported by all three residents, who take nuisance promulgation assignments from the Supreme Generalissimo.
 
I was surprised (more like, ecstatically tickled) yesterday morning when the radio did not come on at 07:00. The BDGs were distracted, much too high, (gone all a-fluttery?), by the imminent arrival of a crew of roofers to do some stripping. It was a full 22 minutes later that one BDG stated the half-question to Lynda, "We forgot our music." Of course, that environmental deficiency was immediately remediated. (We are compelled to let our @$$-hole neighbor how we feel about him!)
 
Of course, I pay zero attention to whatever is programmed by the radio station. I only hear ONE tune (retaliatory nuisance noise) and only ONE repeating lyric - exemplified by my neighbors - a two-word vulgar expression that starts with the letter "F" and ends with the letter "U".
 
Truly a BDG gift that never stops giving... the finger.
.

Tactical Retreat as a Strategic Offense

A whole week went by with the yard radio magic rock speaker turned away from my house and the volume set really low - until this morning.

The night and morning temperatures were pleasant enough to sleep with the bedroom window open - until 7:07 this morning. Upon being assaulted yet again by the act of Lynda, Theresa or Corky manually turning on the yard radio, I slammed my window shut. One of the Trinity gleefully added injury to injury by increasing the volume and turning the speaker my direction again.

Do they think to "hide" by waiting until no one (in authority) appears to be watching (or, listening) before turning it back up? Please forgive my suspicion and skepticism, but factoring in their history of deceit, lying, abrasiveness, intimidating, and outright scoffing at laws their one-week retreat convinces me this scaled back low-level harrassment is merely a ploy to "fly under the radar" for a while.

For the first five or six years of T, L & C's illegal operation on 810 Fishback St, their tactic of "laying low" - not calling attention to themselves - was mainly how they evaded detection and regulation by the City of Manteca. This period also established the "long time on the property" argument, which they parlayed into the "grandfathered from the county" lie that they successfully perpetrated on the Manteca Planning Department to obtain their "free pass."

Too bad for them I have recordings and photographs of the yard radio, and police reports of their malicious usages of it, which establish their cagey, cynical dealings in this matter.

More proof that T, L or C get their little rock off deliberately? Same day; lunch time; speaker turned completely away (can't see the little circle on the front.) And, never fear, the very next time the magic rock senses any disturbance in the Force, it will come spinning back around into offensive position.

Keep the really good, noisy stuff coming, ladies.


.
p.s. Everyone knows the old saying, "Owners tend to look like their dogs and their rock speakers."

.

The Division and Rationale of D.J. Duties

The same regimentation that existed during TLC Catering's reign of terror is still displayed every day in the disc jockey duties:

1. Supreme Generalissimo Allen commands the rights of primogeniture*, reserving to herself the sexual rush of noisily broadcasting her spoor into the morning air;
2. Leftenant Brassey, the good soldier she is, fills in on the days, like Tuesday, April 6th, when Supreme Generalissimo is physically absent (every day mentally absent) or stove up;
3. Grunt Greene falls into the tertiary position - and laggardly performs the sickening act of turning OFF the radio in the evening (wrong endocrine secretions in that job.)

I posted the below here:

"As punctual as an alarm clock going off at 7:00 a.m. every morning, Lynda pops out her door in robe and slippers and shuffles quickly over to the outbuilding to turn on the yard radio. Loud, but not too loud. On her way back, a glance over her right shoulder to ensure the speaker is pointed my direction. When it's not, she's barely tall enough to reach up high with both hands and reposition it according to her purpose. Then she retreats back indoors, leaving the Mega 100.1 FM (KQOD, Stockton) morning show blaring for my enjoyment."

Things go on exactly the same morning after morning (except Lynda was two minutes early, 6:58 a.m., the other day) - same robe, same slippers, shuffle, volume, over the shoulder glance at the speaker, same hasty retreat back indoors.

 

I work all day in an office with Muzak (c) service and expect residential quietness before and after work. (When I want music at home, I'll put on something I like.) My neighbors, however are delivering to me a disservice - Muzak (c) at home - except I didn't order it, don't want it, will not pay for it, but cannot turn it off, let alone change the channel or control the volume.

• T, L & C thought (with their limited brain cells) to use musical noise to mask the "squeaks and squeals of loud, frightening contraptions" - the icemaker, vendor delivery trucks, catering trucks, and the hour-long ice bucket brigade - except the radio just added to the din.

"Muzak was created in the 1930s by General George Squier, who developed the use of military messaging technology to carry music. This new technology was particularly useful for piping music into elevators, which at the time [1930's] were loud, frightening contraptions. The soothing music helped calm elevator riders' nerves and masked the squeaks and squeals of early elevators." 

• T, L & C continue to deviate from Muzak's approach by thinking (there's that word again!) to use musical noise as a strategy to provide obtrusive and overtly perceptible cues or suggestions. In this regard they are kindred spirits to the torturers in Guantanamo Bay. 

Muzak's approach:

"It was during this time [1970's] that background music known as "Muzak songs" - rerecorded versions of classical, pop, country, and rock songs, minus the vocals - were adopted as a strategy to provide unobtrusive subliminal cues to shoppers. As the demand for original music grew throughout the 1980s, Muzak shifted its focus to Audio Architecture, and a new way of reaching the hearts and minds of customers was born."

T, L & C's approach:

"The use of 'acoustic bombardment' has 'become standard practice on the battlefields of Iraq, and… has joined sensory deprivation and sexual humiliation as among the non-lethal means by which prisoners from Abu Ghraib to Guantanamo may be coerced to yield their secrets without violating US law' ” (“Music as Torture” by Suzanne G. Cusick, Transcultural Music Review Vol. 10, 2006).

• T, L & C were for twenty-three years self-defined by their illegal and now defunct business operation. They have nothing lawful to do on their property, except reside there, and nothing gainful or useful (or legal?) to do away from their property. They are now poster children for the sayings: 
• “In works of labour, or of skill,
• I would be busy too;
• For Satan finds some mischief still
• For idle hands to do.” (Issac Watts)

and

. “The only thing worse than idle hands is an idle mind.” (Anton Lavey)

and

.  "An idle brain is the devil's workshop." (Henry George Bohn)

• T, L & C have spurned every overture to join the adult human race, desiring only to throw verbal and musical tantrums, continue litigation, decline to make or accept offers of settlement, and refuse to remediate their outdoor radio nuisance. I again refer the reader to the best article I have ever read about noise, in the .pdf newsletter The Quiet Zone:

The Nature of Noise

 

   See if you can find Lynda, Theresa, and Corky in there...

 

.
- - - - - - -

* primogeniture - Latin word meaning " first born". It refers to the common tradition of the first born child of the parents who, by this law, inherits the entire estate of the parents because he/she is the eldest of all the children. This law is no more in existence in most of the world's countries now, except in the Third World village of Manteca, California, and the estate at 810 Fishback Street.

Icy Cold Dealings...

It is hard to imagine anyone having a more intimate working knowledge of the now defunct TLC Catering's operation than Mr. Bill Crystal, of AAA Refrigeration.

• Mr. Bill was the shining knight who came running every time Lynda called him to say the icemaker had gone Kaput!
• (Picture taken September 3, 2008. An extra bucket was always left filled for the junkyard dogs to drink from during the day. Whiskey loved to chew the ice, too.)

• Mr. Bill, the Dr. House of icemakers, was the one to risk his life for a few ice cubes, as in this post.
• Mr. Bill was much more than merely a service vendor - more of a dear, dear friend - to the perennially poor, little, and old women, who struggled and scraped to just barely eke a spartan living out of the cutthroat street vending business. (Oh, puh...leeze! gag!)
• Mr. Bill spent an entire evening sitting with the entourage that showed up to encourage and laugh at Lynda's offensive redneck humor during the March 3, 2009 city council meeting.
• (An Easter, 2010, picture. T, L & C were gone all day, but left the radio ON for my "enjoyment." ) 

And now... {drum roll}... Mr. Bill has once again ridden to the rescue of the fair maidens not-so-fair, unemployed spinsters! He poked around the icemaker, inside the illegal structure built for it, and spent well over an hour (1240 hrs to 1423 hrs) sitting in the cover-less gazebo in deep conversation with T & L. (Oh, yeah... the yard radio was too loud and bothered these refined, considerate owners and their honored guest, so they turned the volume way, way down so they could think and/or talk without shouting.) Just guessing now, but I imagine one possible deal being pitched is that Bill buys the icemaker, or at least broker a deal,  so that T & L can pay their mortgage... or whatever... or buy more lawyer time to defend against my lawsuit.

Or, maybe Bill is supposed to get the machine certified and running again so it doesn't fail another demonstration. (It failed to start when T & L first tried to up-sell a potential buyer. Damn! The one time I wished it did run, and all it could do was cough and splutter!)

Sell the icemaker to defend against my lawsuit regarding their icemaker?! Now, that's icy cold. Wouldn't that be an irony to beat all? Whoot!

The March 30, 2010, Proposed Stipulated Judgment (still unacknowledged by the defendants) reads, in recital #1:

"The ice maker... shall be dismantled or otherwise made inoperable..."

Selling it and having it removed would certainly meet that stipulation. Of course, I believe nothing Lynda or Theresa say or sign until after they actually carry out their promise. (Now who's being icy cold?)

And, while they're at it, they could throw the yard radio into the deal, as in recital #2,

"Said outside radio... shall be dismantled or otherwise made inoperable..."

(Just sayin'...)
 
- - - - - - - -
p.s. To whomever buys this ancient, rattley, noisy, leaky, beat up, electricity-sucking (when not shorting out) Scotsman CME2006R commercial ice machine - here is the (free) official service manual.  ( ;-)  Tryin' to be helpful here...)
.

Belated Apology to the late Roger and Flora Stewart

In Memorium: Roger Stewart (1915 - 2003, age 87)

In Memorium: Flora Stewart (1922 - 2005, age 83)

The two of you are owed the Mother of all Apologies by the owners of TLC Catering, other former neighbors, the County of San Joaquin, and the City of Manteca. They, of course, will not apologize to you, so I offer it to you on their behalf. I can do so because I took your place in the hell these individuals and entities created for you on Fishback Street during the last 16 and 18 years of your lives. I never met you, but I have come to experience firsthand your soul-weariness and intense frustration in dealing with the parties named above. I'm truly sorry the two of you went to your graves without relief from this bestial treatment, being in constant torment from your neighbors' noisy and illegal business operation, which crime was aided and abetted by a long succession of City minions.

What should have been your quiet sunset of years turned into a truly demonic hell when Lynda Allen and Theresa Brassey took up residence next door, recruited Corky Greene and others, and dragged along their operating catering truck business. How could they get away with that?

I apologize for the Grubb's, the Mego's, and the County for abjectly failing to resolve the illegal mobile home problem before November 1987. Your former neighbors didn't do you any favors. Nice enough folks, the Mego's, who had no business operation on their property when the east side of Fishback was made part of the City of Manteca and zoned R-1 Residential. You watched Lewis and Anne Mego deal with the myriad changes attending annexation, particularly selling most of their parcel to the school district, leaving them with an half-acre, their house, and a scruffy, unpermitted mobile home left over from when Dale and Georgiana Grubb owned the property and let the permit lapse.

I apologize for Allen and Brassey not having a clue how or where to properly set up a business. That confounded mobile home! When Allen and Brassey saw it in 1987, they immediately connived to use it as storage, as a commissary, for their catering trucks. They never got - or even asked for - conditional use permits from the City for either the mobile home or for their business use. They also failed to file a Fictitious Business Name statement with the County Recorder for their first year-and-a-half on the property. How did they get away with all that? Of course, they told you they had permits for their trucks from the County Health Department - with the emphasis on "County" - as if to imply they didn't need any land use permits from the City.

I apologize for lazy, reluctant City department officials, and for Allen and Brassey lying about their origins in order to evade permits. TLC's comings and goings constantly disturbing your after-midnight hours was bad enough for the first few years, but then another truck and another driver was added. This area had always been a residential area, and a new Home Occupation ordinance was adopted by the City in 1992, yet Allen and Brassey kept growing their business bigger and bigger. Something just wasn't right. You tried calling the City's business office, or code enforcement, or planning, but you got the departmental run-around for a long time. Finally, an "investigation" was made, which consisted of a few conversations with the lawbreakers, who lied about the scope of their business operation and remain stubbornly and willfully ignorant about the property being in the City when they moved the business onto it.

I apologize again for Allen and Brassey and Greene, who dismissed your legitimate needs (sleep, for instance) and turned their malicious, vindictive natures upon you, or anyone, who spoke against them. For example, after feeling some pressure from me, a year ago they deliberately added MORE noise to their already noisy operation by moving their outdoor radio speaker very close and pointing it my direction.

I apologize for incompetent City officials, who, through laziness or overwork, did not challenge and deny the liars' claims. In a classic case of the whistleblower getting punished, all hell broke loose upon your property after that farce of an "investigation." A HUGE MISTAKE was made when Manteca officials believed your neighbors' lies, without verifying the facts, and wrote a few false and fateful words on City letterhead. With that bogus "grandfather" letter, the City basically bound you, gagged you, and held you down, while your neighbors vilely subjected you to "waterboard torture" with around-the-clock noise. Allen and Brassey took that letter to the Health Department and "legalized" and expanded the commissary operation far beyond the mobile home: without a City permit, your neighbors hauled a trailer with retrofitted refrigeration units on top onto their property; without a City permit, they poured a concrete slab, behind their outbuilding and right up against your fence, to install a walk-in freezer with its compressor unit sitting on top; without a City permit, they built a ramshakle shed over part of the concrete slab to shelter the outdoor installation of a grossly noisy commercial icemaker, and mounted its condenser unit above it on the roof of the outbuilding, facing your house; without a City permit, they began receiving commercial vendor deliveries to the expanded commissary.... And the City refused to do anything for you concerning any of it!

I apologize for the many City functionaries, some still employed, who had the power to remedy this travesty but made no effort to do so, or fell far short of even mediocre performance. As with you, department after department "quarantined" me and my complaints. Proof of Allen's and Brassey's illegitimate status - the long overdue verification of facts - was handed to the Mayor and City Council over a year ago, but my experience with political animals was the same as yours; a stretch, a yawn, glazed eyes, further posterior spread - with a little flatulence thrown in for good measure, and a 5-0 vote for denial.

I apologize to your daughter, who lived in your house - with the hellish conditions described - for a year after Flora died, before I bought it.

I apologize for taking more than three years to get this cancerous catering company cut out and chemo'd - but I can report good news! Goaded along by my nuisance lawsuit, just this January Allen and Brassey quit running the infernal icemaker, and in February ceased running their last truck. Their rolling stock has For Sale signs posted on them (but they've pulled that stunt before.) They have abandoned much of their business equipment, although it remains on the property, rusting, disintegrating - for now, anyway. They didn't notify the Health Department that TLC Catering is out of business, so I did, by seeking copies of the truck and commissary permit cancellations. They still have not filed and published an Abandonment of Fictitious Business Name, but I'll see they do. Some tumbledown structures still exist contrary to building codes, but those will be reviewed shortly for demolition.

I apologize for neighbors and friends who did not – could not! - believe you or help you when you confided this impossible situation to them. I thought you two might like a short report that vindicates what you felt all along - that something was mightily wrong next door! Well, I proved you absolutely right. My aim is to restore this neighboring piece of property to a state of residential-only use, after the twenty-three years of fouling at the hands of Lynda Allen and Theresa Brassey.

Again, I apologize for the City of Manteca. It would be nice if code enforcement and zoning officials stepped up to do their unfinished jobs - now that the heavy lifting is done. My expectations in that regard are not very high, but I will be moving on City Hall this fall.

Good Riddance after 23 years:

TLC Catering on Fishback Street (1987 - 2010)

(May You Twist in Hell)