Every Little Endorphin Boost Counts!

[Brindlekin Tales – Book 7: Chapter 22]

Subject: Well THAT was a relief!
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: April 20, 2023 at 12:59 PM

I finally got around replying to the ABA attorney who asked for details re. my case. No need to share my reply with you, as you already know my questions, except for this backstory I appended to my reply:


And here’s where the building manager comes in, as he has been hostile towards me long before this present debacle, and I suspect he’s been coaching the Plaintiff with misinformation of a malicious sort. Maybe he even told the Plaintiff he does not have proof of the dogs’ vaccination (even though he does) to get the ball rolling. Manager has accused me of letting the dogs roam freely in the building, several times, in spite of that being untrue. So that’s probably where the Plaintiff got the idea of making that one of his complaints against me.

The manager is rather old, and has been showing signs of senility for at least a few years by now. Numerous tenants have grievances against poor management for various reasons. IOW I am not the only resident being subjected to his erratic behavior. One resident attempted last year to start a tenants union because of this, but it went nowhere.

Back in February 2021, manager taped a signed letter in an envelope to my door, declaring outrageous things about myself and the dogs, including prejudiced accusations against my homeless friend, who owns the dogs. He also was allowing teenage friends of a resident’s son (who shared the same apartment on my floor) to linger in my hallway for one, two, sometimes three, hours once or twice a week…and this went on for approximately three months. They hanged out just ten feet from my door, and almost right in front of the door of my neighbor across the hallway. They were very intimidating and refused to wear masks, thus possibly exposing all residents to COVID. I confronted the manager about allowing nonresident strangers to loiter in our building. He retorted, “They’re teenagers, what else would you expect from them?” I told them to get the police involved, this just has to stop.

Turned out he had arranged with the mother of this son, to allow her son and friends to linger in the hallway rather than gather in her apartment, due to the COVID rule of keeping a social distance. Thereby disregarding the safety of all other residents who had to walk by the teenagers, especially since they refused to wear masks! I continued dog sitting because I knew the dog bite accusation was false (see below).

Because of the manager’s refusal to rectify this situation I sent a letter of complaint to the landlord, including my concern that he may be going senile, due to his poor judgment on this and other issues. The mother’s son also threatened to beat me up, for which I called the police who had a talk with mother and son, and I filed the incident with the SFPD. I also mailed a copy of my complaint to the landlord, to both the manager and the son’s mother. They retaliated two days after receiving that letter, by making a false complaint about one of my dog’s biting her son. Which did not happen, they could not prove it, I’m with the dogs all the time when I’m sitting them. That accusation went nowhere, and mother and son suddenly upped and moved from my building without any threat of eviction, because they probably had something to hide. My hunch is the son got involved with the wrong group who were using hard drugs and/or selling them.

So, as a result of my reporting to the landlord the manager’s erratic behavior and possible senility, I suspect he is trying to get back at me by coaching the Plaintiff to start a lawsuit against me. For some of the complaints match perfectly, what the manager has accused me of, and finally slapped me with an eviction notice back in May 2022. Which the landlord’s attorney has dismissed just two days ago, after the landlord sat on the case for almost ten months, against both the wishes of his own attorney, and mine (an eviction attorney at Bay Area Legal Aid).

These are the dogs in question, if you are curious (videos on my playlist).

Thank you immensely.


Also, Wattson:

Someone on thelaw.com today said I SHOULD respond with an Answer. So here’s the discussion so far:


Someone said:
I don’t know what you expect the attorney to do with this information.

My reply:
I don’t know either, and no resource in the law library I went to, nor any online legal site, gives any instructions regarding declaring yourself Judgment Proof AND filing an Answer. One attorney (who is not handling my case, but offered some advice) said that, since I’m Judgment Proof I really don’t have to reply, or do anything else. And that’s why I’m here, with my question, to get other opinions.

Someone said:
If you do not file an answer to the complaint, it costs him very little to get a default judgment against you. Don’t wait for him to respond, file your answer.

My reply:
I am going to a free legal counsel clinic tomorrow, where you have a 20 minute session to get questions answered, and help with filling out the proper form(s). This is cutting it close, since after tomorrow, I have only five days before the deadline to reply. This free counseling service is only on the third Friday of every month, so I couldn’t see them any earlier. I will use the weekend to make two copies of all papers required, so I’ll be ready to move fast on Monday.

If I understand the rules, the next step after filing my Answer is both attorneys discussing mediation (over the phone probably), I think two or more weeks in advance of the mediation (scheduled for August 23rd). But since I’m representing myself I guess Plaintiff’s Attorney will be speaking with me…which I find rather weird and downright awkward.

The Answer form PLD-PI-003 only wants me to list the numbers of the complaints that I am denying, but no explanations for why I’m denying (if I understand correctly). Will mediation allow me to present why I’m denying certain complaints, or will that still be on hold?

And, can I DENY Plaintiff’s claim for supposedly needing rabies shots, on the grounds that it was not necessary, and that the building manager should have shown him proof, as he requested evidence of rabies shots for both dogs via texting me. Which I sent him a few minutes later (via texting) as snapshots of the papers AND the tags. Not that I believe the Plaintiff was bitten, but because the manager (or anyone else for that matter) has the right to ask for proof of updated rabies shots at any time. So, would the rabies shot complaint go under the heading “DENIES , ON INFORMATION AND BELIEF?”

And can I likewise deny his claim for trauma under that same heading, based on it being an exaggerated claim?

Thanks for your helpful reply, BTW. Oh, one more thing:

My landlord’s attorney dismissed the eviction case against me, as of two days ago. Which ties in with the dog issue. The complaints were either trivial or frivolous, which my own attorney told me. Landlord’s attorney agreed with her, and wished for the Landlord to just drop it, rather than sit upon it after failing to reply on time. I had to wait almost ten months for this predictable outcome, but it may help in my defense regarding another Plaintiff’s attempt to sue me.


Re: Well THAT was a relief!
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: April 20, 2023 at 2:39 PM

> Very good work. You’d have made a hell of a lawyer yourself. As would I, but I can scarcely think of a job I’d want less. Except maybe airline pilot. Or dentist.

Only now am I beginning to figure out which careers would best suit me…at the ripe old age of 72! Such as: legal counsel (for the poor, especially LGBTs): social worker (for the poor, especially LGBTs), Jungian therapist (for the poor, especially LGBTs), high priest (of the First Church of Dog), adopter of abandoned doggies (with acres of fenced-in property), ghost writer (for real ghosts only…who are poor, especially LGBTs), paranormal investigator (for the poor living in rundown slums, especially LGBTs), gourmet vegetarian chef (for the poor, especially LGBTs), private detective (for the poor, especially LGBTs) and compassionate owner of a house of ill repute for LGBTs (whereby they get the best health care and the largest share of the profits)…for examples.

I feel like Grandma Moses who picked up the paintbrush when she was 78. Though I found my “calling” years ago, as an activist for the LGBT houseless. And I’m fine with that. BTW:

Deek dropped by this morning, was most amicable. I gave him his final $80 for the month, even though it’s four days ahead of schedule. Still has $40 remaining, which I’ll give him around a week from now. He thought today’s allowance was his third payment for the month, but I corrected him:

“No, this is your fourth, and last, until next month. I’ll be glad to show you my calendar so you can see you’ve already received the first three payments before the middle of the month, if you’d like.”

He said no, that’s okay, he’s just confused, then added:

“I appreciate all the things you do for me and the doggies.”

He asked me to bring them a meal and water, didn’t even want me to dog sit or charge any of his devices, or change the music on his speaker chip. I took this meetup to tell him the landlord dismissed my eviction case, and I should soon be dismissed from the more recent attempt to sue me. He politely demanded I explain to him what these cases are about, so I told him:

“False accusations, they just hate the homeless and anyone like me, who reaches out to them. They see me out here with you all the time, they couldn’t wrap their heads around my sitting a couple of homeless dogs, they made up claims that I’m smoking meth and running drugs on the side. Another accused me of threatening him with violence, stupid stuff like that. Basically, anything they could come up with to fuck with me.”

I explained to him they had not a shred of evidence for such accusations, which led to the manager slapping an eviction notice on me. So I needed an attorney to clear this all up, and she did. One of my enemies keeled over some months back, my main gossiper in fact, who was also good friends with the manager:

“Who, as you can see with your own eyes, wound up in the hospital for almost two months and is now so decrepit he’s not long for this world. So these idiots are paying their dues for such childish hostility.”

I also explained to him I have no interest in vengeance, but deal with this crisis with compassion and forgiveness…appealing to their hearts by example. Which will result in a lot of goodwill in the long run.

“And that is the best way to deal with ANY crisis, Deek,” I declared in summation. “The Chinese like to say crisis is opportunity, and the Buddha said we have no enemies, only teachers. Jesus said the same thing, though in different words: love your enemy. Because you never know if your so-called enemies are actually angels in disguise presenting you with a challenge they know will strengthen your soul by figuring out how to best deal with it. In short, DON’T WORRY about anything, just have faith you’ll get through whatever crisis befalls you, and be a better person once you come out of it. Do NOT allow misery to take over and start lashing out at others because you’re in a bad mood.”

Frankly, Wattson, I was amazed how attentively Deek listened to me, without a single interruption. I finished with:

“Besides, I’ve also met some incredible people in the legal field, which may benefit me somewhere down the line.”

He then asked why I can’t resume letting the dogs visit me now and then. So I explained to him it’s technically illegal for anyone with a single room to have a pet. But because the manager allowed that, regardless, for well over a year and a half, and I was sitting them, they weren’t really living with me. Though because of these stupid lawsuits that put the kibosh on the doggies’ visits.

“However,” I explained, “using my compassionate approach, instead of being angry and vengeful, it is my hope the landlord and my enemies will have a change of heart in the long run. Such that I can resume sitting the pups. We’ll just have to wait and see, but I throw all my faith into The Great Spirit’s hands that this will, indeed, come to pass.”

This morning’s meetup was barely thirty minutes, but he showed up around two hours later (after taking the pups to Golden Gate Park), and asked for another bungee cord and more water for his wee charges. And again he thanked me with sincere regard. I also noticed how kind he was to the mutts, lavishing upon them more affection and kindness than I’ve ever seen him do before.

– Zeke K-Holmes

Click here for a larger view.

Subject: Law.com just gave me 7 trophies!
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: April 20, 2023 at 5:04 PM

See pic: one trophy for posting a new topic, two because I got two “likes,” and five because I keep coming back and have posted thirty messages in just four days.

Every little endorphin boost counts, eh, Wattson?

Re: Well THAT was a relief!
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: April 20, 2023 at 6:21 PM

> I believe exactly that will happen.

Going by My Bodhisattva Premise, that is EXACTLY how things will turn out. Plaintiffs, building manager et al were putting me through my paces (as bodhisattva guardians themselves) knowing I’d become a better person by dealing with the challenge in as compassionate and worry-free as is humanly possible. The veritable HOKINESS of their accusations–including failure to provide not even a stitch of evidence–was their clue that all is not what it seems. And:

They’ve certainly WITNESSED many times over how much I adore Flaco & Lucky!

Had I succumbed to the demons of fear, anger, worry or any other negative manifestation, I would’ve STILL won, though not before going through agonizing and prolonged travail. Just as it says in the Tibetan Book of the Dead (and I paraphrase):

“Upon each level you ascend to, demons will be waiting at the gate to try to scare you away. They will wield terrible weapons before you: scimitars, spiked clubs, fiery arrows and the like. Do not collapse in fear, but be steadfast and calm, and don’t attempt to fight back. Upon which they will drop their weapons, and along with that, their hideous masks to reveal themselves as loving angels…and they will then let you pass through. Otherwise you’ll be stuck on your present level for another lifetime or longer.”

I have always thought that the lessons taught in this sacred Buddhist text apply to the living as well as to the dead, because after all:

Is not THIS life we now know but one of these levels, with further levels beyond? And, as the Buddha once said: “Heaven and hell are a state of mind.” IOW:

One can ascend to higher levels without waiting to die. For every major challenge is a death of sorts, anyway, for the NEW you to emerge to the next level of consciousness.

– Zeke K-Holmes

P.S.: So kudos to Kevin for playing a most honorable role as one grown senile and decrepit, and appears ready to kick the bucket. Superb acting, I say there, good physician! Likewise for my former quasi-fascist neighbor who supposedly died some months back…though I suspect he simply moved elsewhere and allowed Kevin to fake his death. As part of the script to provide me with yet another good tale to tell, as well as guide me along on my path to Nirvana. And haven’t these two lawsuits made for even MORE great stories to weave?

Subject: As an author I found a good use for ChatGPT
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: April 20, 2023 at 9:55 PM

I know little about car models, or various types of clothing, plus what you call a certain part of this or that machine or other object. For example:

Some fire engines have two square ledges on both sides of the back, where a fireman can stand on.  What are they called?

The square ledges on both sides of the back of a fire engine are called tailboard steps or tailboard ladders. They provide a stable platform for firefighters to stand on while accessing equipment or fighting fires from the rear of the vehicle.

I asked that question when I wanted to describe Scooter seated at the back of a fire engine.

So I’ll be using ChatGPT for this kind of help. Quicker than using your standard search engine, which can’t always find the answer you need. (It didn’t when looking up “parts of a fire engine” or even the same query I put to ChatGPT in the example above.) This will also include certain terms in the fields of, say, science, technology, surgery, astronomy, and so forth. So if I want to write a believable sci-fi tale, knowing certain terms and tools in science will help. As will, say, composing a detective story with some forensics involved. Or describing some distinctive clothing I have a character wear, or a particular vehicle he or she drives.

Kewl, eh?

Subject: Law.com closed my thread!
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: April 21, 2023 at 10:00 AM

The next to last reply was: “Frankly, the questions you are asking go beyond the scope of what an online forum can provide for you. If you can’t figure it out, you need an attorney.”

And the last one was by the supermoderator: “And with that, I’m locking the thread. We’ve done all we can for you, Denizen.”

So I posted the following reply directly to the supermoderator: “I see you’ve closed this thread I started…so I couldn’t thank everyone for their help. If at all possible, could you do that for me? I greatly appreciate such useful advice given me by all participants.”

What next, Wattson? I will attend the LARC workshop this afternoon, between 4 and 6 PM. I only get a twenty minute consultation, so I now have to prepare my questions as succinctly as possible. And they DO handle personal injury cases, according to a page on their website that I found some moments ago, which eluded me previously. Their policy is to pair up a client with one of their attorneys who has at least five years in the practice. So that’s good.

LARC is sponsored by the SF Bar, and they’ll probably advise me to get a lawyer pro bono from them. In which case I’ll inform them I’ve already tried that with no luck, and how that happened. MAYBE (just maybe) the attorney I speak with will rectify that for me, by contacting the SF Bar themself.

I COULD receive consultation over the phone (or Zoom), but I think it’s best to show up in person. Of course, you’ll be the first (’cause ONLY) person to know how things went, once I return hovel. Now, I gotta march on down to the UPS store up the block and have them print out my General Denial, Court Fee Waiver and Proof of Service forms. Seven pages total, should cost less than $1, unless inflation has raised their fees…in which case it’ll cost around $2, I guess.

– Zeke K-Holmes

Subject: Least expensive process server is…
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: April 21, 2023 at 1:09 PM

…the sheriff’s office, just $40. Located in City Hall, right around the corner from the court where I register my reply and two other documents. And LARC is just a block away from there. Splendiferously convenient! BTW:

UPS printout of seven pages (double sided) plus one manila envelope came to $6.59…so yeah, inflation.

– Zeke K-Holmes

Subject: More good news!
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: April 21, 2023 at 1:45 PM

“The Sheriff’s Office will serve papers for you. The Sheriff’s Office charges money unless the court waived the fee.”

In addition:

“The Sheriff’s office will file the Proof of Service for you and give you a copy of the form.”

Click here for source.

Re: Least expensive process server is…
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: April 21, 2023 at 2:15 PM

>  Excellent!!!

It just keeps getting better, Wattson. I am fully prepared for my LARC consultation, including THIS question:

“SF Bar accepted my request for an attorney, based on my low income. But the attorney they referred me to does not do pro bono, and his sliding scale fees still go into the thousands. I contacted SF Bar, said I think they made an error, and can they rectify this by referring me to an attorney who does pro bono? The woman on the phone said they don’t do pro bono for anyone, and they have no idea just how much any attorney’s fees will be. Can you possibly straighten this out for me?”

The point there is: I REALLY don’t want to represent myself at trial, or any other matter related to the lawsuit.

I will bring the Plaintiff’s complaint and summons with me of course…along with forms I need to fill out. All my questions are now copied to a text file on my smartphone, so I can have them right before me when I speak with an attorney. In fact, here they are, minus the question above:


I am judgment proof.

Is mailing a summons with complaint and two copies of Acknowledgment of Receipt legit, in lieu of serving by hand?

I have never been shown any evidence of harm to the plaintiff by these dogs, which are small, 25 pounds each, and are half dachshund with the same small, weak jaws.’

Plaintiff claims he had to get rabies shots, suffered much trauma, had to quit his job.

Complaints are either questionable, blatantly incorrect or grossly exaggerated.

Should I just ignore the summons or reply with a general denial? Or perhaps a motion to strike?

The other defendant is my landlord. If I don’t respond with a general denial, will the complaints against me be directed at the landlord?

I believe the building manager coached the Plaintiff with hostile intent against me, thus the false claims and exaggerations.

I can’t afford an attorney, so if it goes to court I’ll have to represent myself. Can I continue to waive all court fees for this?


– Zeke K-Holmes

Subject: Hang in there, good doctor!
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: April 21, 2023 at 7:52 PM

Composing my report about LARC right now. Barring Deek’s possible visit, it will take up to an hour to complete. But rest assured: you will LOVE it!

Re: As an author I found a good use for ChatGPT
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: April 21, 2023 at 9:10 PM

> Best use of Chat GPT I’ve heard of yet!!

You don’t get out much, do you? :P

Subject: Still working on my LARC report, but…
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: April 21, 2023 at 10:12 PM

…this just came in from thelaw.com, where supermoderator posted back to me:

“You are welcome. I have made sure that our folks see this message.”

–so I replied:

Thank you immensely. Also tell them that I now have access to Personal Injury attorneys at LARC (Legal Assistance & Referral Clinic) to guide me every step of the way, representing myself. I can just come to the clinic whenever I’m ready to go the next level.

The attorney I spoke with this afternoon said it looks like I’m good to go with the General Denial, which is the best way to proceed. And that once I deliver that reply, Plaintiff’s Attorney will very likely just drop the case, because the complaints are so hokey and subjective (non-factual) in the first place. He said (looking at Plaintiff Attorney’s bar number) that he’s barely outta the gate, he ranks lowest in the field, only had his license since 2021, that is: an ambulance chaser. This attorney I spoke with says he’s been in this line of work over 40 years, and he knows a shoddy lawsuit when he sees one.

He was impressed I had both forms ready, and filled out properly (General Denial and Fee Waiver). I will go to the sheriff’s office on Monday, after registering my denial and waiver with the appropriate court clerk. Someone from the sheriff’s office will hand deliver my denial and send me proof of delivery, and register it with the court…all free of charge thanks to my waiver.

So I told this attorney, after he was so impressed how ready I am to proceed: “Wanna know which people helped me out the most, to get me to this point ASAP? They’re members of an online forum at THE LAW DOT COM.”

So, I have much gratitude to everyone who participated in my thread, patiently guiding me out of the woods of my own ignorance, to a bright place of understanding how the law works in my case. May each of you who have done this for me, know what a good thing you’ve achieved in this person’s life, and be cheered whenever you think of me, how I showed up out of the blue and disappeared almost as quickly, like a butterfly that landed on your hand.

Oh, now THAT was sappy, but I said it that way to give you all a hearty chuckle. In sum:

I have met some incredibly intelligent, dedicated and compassionate souls in the legal field, on this journey that began with much angst but has since morphed into quite a splendid adventure.

Thank you again, and pleasant dreams. And good night Mrs. Calabash, wherever you are.


Now, back to my LARC report. While listening to Marshall’s live-streaming radio show…and knowing I have a true friend up there in Mendoland who has been such an unbelievable anchor of wisdom and humor for me, for so MANY years! It can’t POSSIBLY get any better than this! Wait, yes it can: having the pups back in my sanctuary would be the cherry on the frosting on the cake. And it WILL happen, in Glob’s own good time.

– Zeke K-Holmes

Subject: Gettin’ there…maybe another hour to go!
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: April 22, 2023 at 5:57 PM

Meanwhile, check this out (7-second video I uploaded today):

So many sad scenes below my window, and not always to do with the homeless. This fellow just returned a week ago, after more than two months in the hospital where he came close to death! Well, he’s STILL close to death and I wouldn’t call his present state of health “living.” The truth of the matter is: the longer we live, the closer we are to death. I raise my plastic skull mug filled with bubbling mead to the mystery of it all! Join me, won’t you please?

Subject: BRILLIANT…so glad I went!
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: April 22, 2023 at 7:20 PM

[Boy howdy did this piece take gobs longer to compose than I anticipated! I relived many times over, every precious little scene in this fast-paced act, before placing fingers to keyboard. Then I cautiously reworked each sentence like a wire sculptor struggling with complicated twists and turns on a diminutive piece nonetheless intended to convey a labyrinth of ideas. OH WHAT A GLORIOUS TRAVAIL! I know this sounds plebeian, but I rose up from my chair and danced to Santana’s “Maria Maria” in sporadic bursts of ecstasy before returning to my station. Often, just PART of a sentence, a phrase, would stop me dead in my tracks and I’d have to mull it over for quite some time. So please enjoy the copious revelations I now fling unto your world, good physician, like gold-leaf origami cranes swirling down to you from way on high:]


LARC consultation was spectacular. But before I get to that part, let me tell you, Wattson: it was quite a lovely day, weather-wise. But also people-wise, as the line of folks waiting for the doors to open were a multicultural rainbow of soft spoken, genial human beings. I think I found my spiritual family, felt right at home, like some kind of coffee klatch among dear friends. I should hang out there more often! While that WOULD be weird, it just might work, especially if I brought ’em a few pink boxes of glazed treats from the donut shop on the opposite corner. I hear that shop gets rough at night, sometimes…but what should one expect? After all, this IS part of the Tenderloin, albeit right on the edge abutting Market Street. Here’s a quick video I shot while standing outside:

Beautiful day while waiting in line for free legal counsel by one of the many superb attorneys at LARC (Legal Advice & Referral Clinic) at the UC Hastings Cotchett Law Center, 333 Golden Gate Avenue, which is close to the Civic Center here in San Francisco. The voice you hear is the fellow in line right behind me. Seems to have his act REALLY together, I’d love to know why he’s here… alas I doubt I ever will.

The uniformed guard, a short Filipino dude with a pearly grin, guided today’s clients inside, in batches of three or four. As I entered through the gate I raised a black COVID mask that hung from my neck, to cover the span from nose to chin…so it now hugged my face like a space alien neonate. Though optional–and hardly anyone else wore one–I thought it best in my case, thanks to geriatric horse hockey. I had to walk up a wide, concrete ramp about thirty feet in length, where a plump, sweet lady in the last of her middle years awaited each visitor at the top. She sat by herself behind a long, folding table with a matt-brown surface, and appeared much like that fairy godmother in Disney’s “Cinderella:” awash in radiance. For the sun had managed to squeeze a juicy beam of light through the gap between buildings, from way overhead.

She greeted me with a smile and handed me a card (which she called a “ticket”) that was a thin, flexible square of white plastic wider than my palm. It had a large, black number on it: mine was “20.” She also handed me three sheets of paper, two of which were stapled together and tinted green. That was the intake form. The single sheet was white, a simple questionnaire for the client to describe how satisfied they were with their service…and if not, in what ways they could improve.

Godmother then brandished her pencil like a magic wand, directing me to enter the building and turn immediately right and down the stairs. As I descended to the lower level, I observed and appreciated the clean, modern interior of chrome and concrete, and how invigorating the air felt in my lungs. (HEPA filters, perhaps?) A disturbingly elongated fellow of tender age, gaunt as a praying mantis, stood on the landing between the upper and lower flights. He smiled and waved me on, sharp left down the lower flight of stairs and into a conference room.

Folding tables were aligned in five rows of six each, with ample space between. The place was abuzz with intake workers, attorneys and clients…a soft, amiable murmur thanks to superb acoustics rendered by a thick carpet stretching wall to wall. It was a blend of nubby material in orange, brown and pitch, and felt somewhat plush underfoot. The colors reminded me of Halloween, or Thanksgiving…when leaves are falling in bright, postmortem hues to embed themselves in storm-drenched loam.


Another lanky, auburn-haired usher taller than Arwyn escorted me to a cushioned metal chair right beside that fellow who stood behind me in the queue outside. He was a dark-skinned POC with a rugged build. His thickly matted hair sported dreadlocks plastered together in a fat braid that sprung from the center of his scalp and lay pressed upon his left side, down to the jawline. I have absolutely NO idea the fashion statement behind that, but I’m sure it’s packed with Reggae lore…along with wads of moistened clay. Nonetheless, it looked good on him.

Looking about the room I noticed an intake agent or attorney here and there sitting alone at a table, talking to themself! But upon a more prolonged observation I realized they were conversing with a client or applicant via Zoom interface on a laptop…or on a smartphone, hidden by a cupped hand or long, draping locks of hair. But I also noticed something ELSE going on that was far more curious:

Everyone was smiling, laughing, holding mini-powwows across the conference room. Not a single tear, frown or rage-filled tantrum from any of the walk-ins! More like a jubilant family reunion than folks besieged by rapacious landlords, violent spouses, crippling medical fees beyond the stratosphere, missing, abused or deathly ill children, homes destroyed by fire, or whatever OTHER horror American life cooks up for the poor and the destitute.

I watched the assistants and attorneys move about from one table to another, sitting down to discuss their client’s troubles, then summoning the next postulant twenty or so minutes later. Busy but not flustered, they radiated a humble joy in doing so much good for so many. Their compassion, mutual respect for those less fortunate, and stunning dedication was contagious, infecting each applicant with newfound inspiration, pride, and the spirit of victory preordained. Truly one, big, happy family spontaneously brought together, once each month for two hours…strangers only on the surface! And then, an amazing realization rippled through every fiber of my soul: they know something I don’t! Or didn’t. Until now:


And with that epiphany, the tiny ghost of Pterry Pterodactyl appeared on my shoulder and whispered: “Well, it certainly looks like you’ve come to the right place THIS time around, Mr. Zeke!”

Upon hearing that I took a deep, relaxing breath, expelling the last of my anxieties from the lawsuit, that had been lingering for some days now. Begone, ye divils! Knowing that indeed I WAS in the right place, for this was all a staged scenario by bodhisattva guardians for the benefit of yours truly! Each actor–whether walk-in, agent or attorney–knew their place, their role, and their lines to a T before appearing onstage. In fact, most were simply extras (or “NPCs” as they are called in the digital world): background filler creating the illusion of conversational hum and an air of “getting things accomplished” with noble efficiency.

“So this is Nirvana,” I thought to myself. “Made to order for yours truly!”

I’m telling you, Wattson, I was MOST eager to tread the boards myself, and impress them with my OWN thespian precocity! So by the time someone called out “20!” and I was seated before my assigned agent, when she said, “Now let’s look into your case and see how we can help,” I replied:

“It’s an honor!” and slapped card #20 face-up on the table for the win…along with that two-page intake form. For if I believe in anything, it’s my own bedraggled self.


My agent was all of 4-foot-9 and appeared VERY young, like a 14-year-old. But get this: she was the spitting image of my eviction attorney, blonde hair and all…just a smaller version, who even spoke with the same Dutch accent!

After asking all the standard questions (preferred language, ethnic identity, pronoun preference, etc.) she asked me to sign and date it. As I wrote my name down she exclaimed:

“Ezekiel, what a nice name you have!”

“Flattery will get you nowhere with me, dear,” I replied with a grin (though not apparent through the mask).

“You hardly hear that name anymore,” she softly mused.

“Well it DOES roll off the tongue nicely,” I agreed. “But it’s not my birth name, I changed it way back in ninety-six, to divorce myself from my family.”

“I suppose such things are necessary, sometimes,” she sighed, then said: “Now tell me, why are you here today so I can expedite your case?”

I then presented a quick rundown of the lawsuit, why the charges are so egregious ’cause false, grossly exaggerated and/or opinionated rather than factual. And, even though I am Judgment Proof, I don’t want to have such baseless accusations go on record that COULD lead to a second attempt by the landlord to evict me. And I need help figuring out WHICH forms to use, how to fill them out and deliver them, because I could NOT find an attorney who’d take my case. Which latter point got me on a roll about my disappointing outcome with the SF Bar Association.

Well it was certainly a lot to take in, I admit, so I can’t blame her when she twisted her brow in confusion and queried: “So you want ME to help you sue the SF Bar Association?”

[SIDEBAR: Now mind you, Wattson, this is a theatrical performance, not a real-life scenario, so I doubt she thought that really WAS the case, but merely spoke her words according to script. And I, likewise:]

“Heavens to Mergatroyd, no!” I exclaimed in startled reflex, tilting back in my chair with hands raised in objection. “I’d NEVER do that. I’m just saying I’m ready to march over there to the president’s office, get down on my knees and BEG them to take my case! This is wrong what they did, and it needs to be rectified somehow. Say, with an attorney who’d at least COUNSEL me on representing myself through the entire process, including the trial if it comes to that!” And I finished with:

“To put it succinctly: I really, really, really DON’T want to be my own lawyer, if at all possible!”

She then reached out to a thick binder obese with countless pages sealed in plastic, and about eight tabs sticking out to identify the categories. As she opened it she declared:

“Surely there’s SOME organization out there that will be glad to take your case!”

I explained to her all the ones I’ve looked up that DO pro bono for the poor don’t include personal injury:

“Except the SF Bar. For example, I contacted Legal Assistance for the Elderly last week, over the phone. They asked me my case number, looked it up and replied we’re sorry but we don’t handle personal injury lawsuits.”

“Hmm, I see,” she replied. “Are you disabled?”

I knew where this would lead, so told her:

“Yes, schizophrenia. But the legal services for the disabled ALSO don’t deal with personal injury cases, I’ve already checked that out! And besides, they usually focus on the PHYSICALLY handicapped, and ignore mental nut jobs like me!”

Upon hearing that she looked up from her beastly tome and quipped: “Speaking of mental health, Ezekiel, you certainly have a HEALTHY sense of humor!”

“I like to think so, yes, thank you very much,” I quipped back. “I have learned to tame my schizophrenia and channel it into creative outlets, and humor played a major role in getting me there. All without taking soul-sucking psychotropic medication of any kind.”

Then I held up both arms like a bodybuilder showing off his biceps, and declared: “Brain now strong like bull!”

I explained further I seem to have exhausted all POSSIBLE resources out there to find a legal organization that will handle my case pro bono:

“The only one I found is the SF Bar. I’m perfectly eligible for pro bono, and they DO advertise their dedication to serving the poor and disadvantaged at no cost. And OTHER legal outfits promote them as such. Even my eviction attorney recommended them to me and said they’ll take my case pro bono. So it makes SENSE for the SF Bar to take me on board, but I don’t know HOW I can persuade them to do just that, after what they put me through. I can’t AFFORD to keep shelling out thirty-five bucks a pop to speak with one lawyer after another, only to wind up being turned down by each one anyway.”

I then paused for a moment, sighed and added: “So that’s why I’m here.”

Upon listening to my heartfelt spiel, she finally closed that cumbersome volume of legal schlock and shoved it aside.

“Besides which,” I resumed, “It’s too LATE for me to keep looking, the deadline to reply is only five days from now. I’m ALREADY prepared to register and deliver my General Denial this Monday, come hell or high water. Then, and only then, after THAT’S been accomplished, I’ll CONTINUE seeking out an attorney, at least one who will counsel me if not outright represent! Showing up in person at SF Bar headquarters and BEGGING them is definitely on my agenda.”

[SIDEBAR: At this point I should remind you, Wattson, as I’ve already stated in a previous missive, that LARC is an extension OF the SF Bar. Which makes my dilemma that much more interesting, eh?]

“We can do this, Ezekiel!” she proclaimed. “I think the best solution at the moment is have you speak with a personal injury attorney right now!”

“Yes! That would be a great start,” I exclaimed.

“His name is Prentiss,” she replied. “But he’s counseling another client, so it will be ten minutes or so before you can speak with him. Does that work for you?”

“It sure does,” I replied in gratitude.

As I stood up to return to a waiting chair along the wall, she said “I’m sorry you’re going through this, it must be painful.”

“No, not at all,” I reassured her. “I take the Buddhist stance–though such an approach is taught in other philosophies as well–that one must never allow anger or any other negative emotion to rule your world. Another way of saying that is we have no enemies, only teachers. So I will be fine no matter what, no matter HOW I beat this lawsuit, and beat it I shall. It’s all good, and just an adventure for me where I get to meet incredible folks along the way, such as yourself.”

And with that, she nodded and walked away to confer with Prentiss, while I returned to my seat near the corner.


An elderly Mexican or Central American woman sat beside me as I waited to talk to a Personal Injury attorney. She was thin in a healthy way, and dressed in a long, gray coat with large buttons, and a colorful scarf upon her head. Of cheerful disposition, she made me feel glad to have her beside me. After chirping away with a fellow seated on her right (her son perhaps), she turned to address me in English. Her accent was strong, thus difficult to comprehend, but it went something like this:

“They weren’t much help at that other place, they didn’t know what to do with me, then after wasting my time with too many frustrating visits, they finally sent me here! Now I hope things will go better. It looks like they will.”

I smiled in response (having already lowered my mask while conferring with my intake worker), tapped her shoulder and said, “That happens sometimes, I know because it did to me, too, recently. But for the most part these are excellent people who work hard on our behalf. Ya just gotta stick with it, and you’ll be fine.”

“Oh thank you for saying that,” she replied with a nudge. “I know you’re right, I feel very optimistic today!”

At that point in our conversation an intake agent (yet aNOTHER tall, skinny young fellow) holding a clipboard came up to her and said the attorney is ready to discuss her case, he’s right over there…and pointed at a table where a friendly old codger in a blue-gray shirt and black tie with shiny pink dots waved at her. She then stood up, brushed some crumbs off her coat, smiled at me and addressed the agent:

“This is a good man, be sure he gets all the legal help he needs!”

The gangly assistant grinned at that and took her by the arm.

“Muchas gracias, y buena suerte pa’ ti!” I replied, as off they went.


“Okay, I get what’s happening,” said Prentiss after hearing my speedy outline of the lawsuit and my opposition to it. “You’re poor, you’re broke, you don’t have a pot to piss in!”

“Well…” (I was about to say “Yes I do, and it’s right beside the cupboard beneath my sink,” but he rumbled on:)

“You’re IMMUNE to their wicked schemes, they can’t touch you. And THAT, my friend, is what Judgment Proof is all about!”

I almost slid off my chair in hilarity, but managed a clever bon mot of my own: “God bless the unrepentant flower children of this world!”

“Right, nicely said,” he replied. “Looks to me like the Plaintiff is trying to go through YOU to get to the pot of gold at the end of Ablablah’s rainbow!”

“I’m stunned you saw through their plot so quickly,” I exclaimed.

“Oh, I’ve been at this Personal Injury business for over thirty-five years,” he boasted. “I certainly DO know a thing or two about scoundrels.”

So that was just a TASTE of Prentiss for your delectation, Wattson. The guy’s off the chart! He’s a heavyset fellow around 68 years old, six feet tall with spiky patches of yellow-gray hair, clumps of which pointed left, some right, and one upward. Lucky him, not a bald spot anywhere!

He only spent fifteen minutes with me, but boy what a wallop that was, nonetheless. Pleased to see how determined I am to right this wrong, and that I was already prepared to register and deliver the appropriate forms, he assured me:

“Yes, General Denial is the right way to handle this. It will trigger a long delay in the lawsuit, they’ll have to prove every one of their complaints TO the judge and, since as you say, they’re either grossly exaggerated, childishly subjective or outright lies…most likely Plaintiff’s Attorney will drop the case like a hot potato once he reads your Denial.”

You already know what little he thinks about the Plaintiff’s Attorney, from an earlier missive, so I’ll skip repeating that here. He recommended LARC’s other clinic, located in the Bayview District, because most of the Personal Injury Attorneys gather there, instead of this location.

“I’m actually there myself, more often than here,” he noted.

“So I should just ask for Prentiss?” I queried.

“Yes, you can do that,” he declared, “but ALL the attorneys are excellent, and will serve you well.”

[SIDEBAR: I have since learned the Bayview clinic is open on the fourth Friday of every month, while the one on Golden Gate Avenue is held the THIRD Friday each month. So, hopefully, the roughly three-week gap in each month will NOT thwart any urgent need for counseling.]

Before departing he said it must be grueling what they’re putting me though. I told him not at all, I take it as just another adventure, an opportunity to meet people of good merit who I would’ve never encountered otherwise. And I get to check out one of the few neighborhoods in San Francisco I have yet to visit. He then commended me for such a great attitude, pat me on the shoulder and rushed off.


Upon leaving the conference room I decided to use the commode, so turned left and then right, whereupon I noticed a triangular blue sign on each of three doors (or was it four) that announced in a bold, white font:

“Please choose a restroom that best matches your gender identity.”

So of course THIS old-school pilgrim unabashedly chose door #1: “Men.” The world has changed, Wattson, but not yours truly…’cause I was already way ahead of the game the moment I slid through that gloppy birth canal like a cannon ball down an abandoned water slide!

And Glob bess San Franshitsco! Like a phoenix zhe shall rise again. Once the dragon from my Randolph/Arwyn tales topples the Transamerica Pyramid. Unless that pretentious pinhead of an edifice opens its doors to the houseless, first. See pic:

Click here for a larger view.

Re: BRILLIANT…so glad I went!
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: April 23, 2023 at 7:53 PM

> You’re firin’ on all seventeen cylinders! Masterful and evocative! I was THERE!

THANK YOU! I’m STILL reeling from the incredible ENERGY and INSPIRATION of my LARC adventure. Or should I say “Larkin” adventure, ’cause somehow I believe he’s behind it, as I suspect he has been for all my PREVIOUS adventures since we first met back in 2005. And don’t forget Larkin Street, just a half block from 333 Golden Gate, where it intersects. Not to mention Disneyland’s animated dragon going up in flames the very same day I felt inspired to append my illustrator S. Rohan’s exquisite drawing of a dragon from my book, “Free Me From This Bond.”

Though that stuff is MINOR (and perhaps coincidental) compared to the stunning implications of this latest episode! For it was the good people at LARC who GAVE me this remarkable story to take to keyboard and share with the world!


And there may be a very good REASON why my intake angel was a diminutive clone of my eviction attorney (which thought struck me like a thunderbolt earlier today):

SHE COULD VERY WELL BE HER FRIGGIN DAUGHTER following in her mother’s footsteps, career-wise! So maybe she really IS fourteen years old, ’cause probably an honor student who skipped some years.

Wouldn’t THAT be somethin’, Wattson! And it certainly gives more credence that they were all actors at LARC, for my own benefit, and no one else’s. It was all a SETUP, Wattson, and that’s why my eviction attorney led me to the SF Bar, which intentionally screwed me over BECAUSE IT’S IN THE DAMNED SCRIPT, and finally led me to the LARC “festival” where I got to meet her daughter, among other excellent folks. They also wanted me to figure things out all by my lone some, in order to prepare me for bigger things of a legal nature, which I will now reveal.

So where is this gonna take me, good doctor, what direction am I most likely headed, after shutting down the lawsuit? Here is the vision that showed me the way, this morning:

Quite possibly I made ripples about SF Bar’s failure to assist me in finding an attorney…through my intake angel, who might discuss this with my eviction attorney, Magdalena Elvensborn (if indeed she IS her mother), or another attorney there at LARC. I ALSO brought this up to Prentiss, so we’ll see. In which case I hope SF Bar will see the light and rectify this frightening situation, since false complaints of personal injury against the poor and other vulnerables are quite common, I’m sure. So this is a MAJOR flaw, a HUGE gap, in those legal services dedicated TO the very low income, and homeless. NO EXCUSE FOR THIS!

The other solution would be for me to play the aggressive whistle-blower, to make the legal community fully aware, though they may already be aware, and prefer to keep this ugly mess swept under the carpet as they have for decades. So of course I’ll make the public fully aware as well. I will contact various legal outfits that provide pro bono to the needy (such as Legal Assistance for the Elderly) and ASK them just why they don’t handle personal injury cases. In addition, I’ll get in touch with the SF Bar to ask further questions in this matter, with the goal to track down the right person or station within their hierarchy.

I could possibly be my own attorney, assuming that, as one who is judgment proof, I could trigger a non-frivolous lawsuit with all court fees waived, while enjoying the free guidance of LARC advisors. Not that I’d want to sue (’cause that’s the hostile approach), but find some compassionate way to appeal to their sense of humanity. With such an approach, it would be more likely that LARC attorneys would be willing to assist and train me to become a surrogate lawyer for just that purpose. Or, assuming I drum up enough interest via the media, this or that charity group (or groups) will take on the cause themselves!

Of course, right now I have no idea if court fee waivers are only for defendants, not plaintiffs.

Personally, I find it rather HOKEY and disillusioning, that legal counsel through LARC (and other places I presume) seem NOT to be aware that most (if not all) pro bono services do NOT take on personal injury cases. You’d think they’d know this right off the bat, instead of rifling through pages and referring them to this or that group and telling the applicant to contact them and ask if they’ll take their case…which only serves to send them off on a wild goose chase. “Passing the buck,” “brushing them off” if you will.

So THAT’S what I’m thinking where I may be headed. Or that my LARC adventure will catapult my activist reputation just by the OTHER ripples I’ve created by expressing my peaceful philosophy overall and with clever badinage to charm their hearts. In a very REAL way, attending that LARC event served very well as a tool for self promotion!

Now this is funny: just a few minutes ago when I was working on the third paragraph above, I heard Larkin’s voice from across the street. He was hollering some funny stuff which words I couldn’t make out. He’s been doing that a lot these past few weeks, though I didn’t realize it was actually Larkin till moments ago when I looked out the window and discovered, yep, that was him! So I shot this 15-second video.

I’m not gonna upload it to my Youtube channel, and I hope your device can handle the format. For some reason the sound got lost during transfer, but that’s not important because all you’d hear is the din of traffic anyway.

And isn’t it curious that Deek has NOT shown up since the day of my LARC appointment…as if he KNEW I needed all this time alone to gird my mental loins and prepare for battle. ‘CAUSE HE’S PART OF THE ACTING CREW HIMSELF, that is: one of my bodhisattva protectors! I mean: who IS this guy, really, to have brought such stupendous doggies into my life that have changed my world in such astonishing ways it makes our heads spin!

– Zeke K-Holmes

P.S.: You missed a great opportunity to toss a pun into the ring, like so: “Zeke, your description of the carpet absolutely FLOORED me!”

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