Of You-nicorns and Me-nicorns

May 27, 2023

[Brindlekin Tales – Book 8: Chapter 3]

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Re: Yay! Another email to my attorney!
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: May 21, 2023 at 7:47 PM

> Good that someone else in the building is taking the initiative!

Who could’ve used my help in composing the anonymous manuscript…regarding both grammar and grievance. I won’t tarry over the former, as of course you’ve already witnessed the flaws, and wherever a better turn of phrase would be advantageous. So let’s jump right into the grievances, point by point, shall we (that is, those I have a problem with):

2. The elevator has NOT been “out of commission” for seven years, Glob help us! More like almost TWO years.

5. Handrails are not splintery in the least. In fact, they’ve been smoothed down by years of wear. They DO look cheap, however, simply because they ARE, Wattson. But no building inspector would penalize a property owner for this eyesore.

6. There IS a washer and dryer in the utility room, which room is OFF LIMITS to all tenants except the building manager, the maintenance man and any necessary repair persons. Again, no building inspector would tick that off on their list of violations. UNLESS the contract with residents states there are laundry facilities on the premises available to all. It does not.

7. Bedbug treatment HAS been consistent and effective, albeit a high level of transience and this building’s ancient structure both lend themselves towards greater frequency of infestation. Not to mention San Franshitsco is one of the cities hardest hit, due to its international milieu. And when it’s impossible (and not legally mandated) to force ALL residents out of their units to perform the BEST eradication each time it’s needed would be prohibitively expensive and a gross disruption of every occupant’s life. The mouse complaint may or may not be legitimate, however I have not had any problem. Nor have I ever seen a mouse skitter down the hallway or in the basement…but RARELY. There are traps for them at strategic locations throughout the building.

8. The condition of the lobby tiles is trivial…they’re just worn down and old looking. It’s not like many (or even a few, maybe one or two) are missing, or they’re sticking up and loosened by foot traffic. They are TINY, like a half-inch square each!

Every other grievance brought up I agree with wholeheartedly. However, citing nonissues as cases in point make for a sorry lawsuit. Especially when there are many OTHER, truly serious, matters the unknown whistle-blower could EASILY have noted. One being the gross lack of security we are forced to endure 24/7. I won’t bring up additional grievances herein, as you already have a good idea as conveyed by my missives TO you over the years.

But the inclusion of trivial offenses on that manuscript, along with a dearth of legitimate complaints, WEAKENS justification to withhold rent payments, and turning it into a successful lawsuit in the long run.

As for our quasi-manager, “check collector” Cortez Garciak: I wonder how he’s gonna handle this. A copy of that manuscript HAS been posted to his door, as well. But it’s the weekend and I don’t think he yet knows about it. I certainly hope he doesn’t think it’s ME who’s distributed that paper! I suspect, though, he won’t, and he’s gonna handle this potential mutiny with impressive calm and a steadfast resolve. To his additional credit, he is the young man I’ve mentioned before, attending Kevin’s difficult walks in and out of the building and up and down the stairs. Yog only knows what OTHER assistance he may be providing for a decrepit old fellow on his last legs!

Grievances against this building’s poor management over the years is absolutely legit, but I’m not ABOUT to sign onto this present list, for obvious reasons. I WILL, however, contact Eviction Defense via their online form which link is offered in the manuscript’s closing…and post my own two cents.

I actually find this whole scenario HILARIOUS, good medic, as it strikes me like a comedy of errors…and thus explains the poorly composed manuscript, which I believe INTENTIONAL. That I be made into a hero in the most ludicrous and easy-to-achieve ways! For moi, this is more like slaying a banana slug than any dragon! For which I conjecture that Cortez just MIGHT play the role of going berserk to manifest some schmaltzy soap opera around this imaginary rent rebellion, for all residents to enjoy and gossip over. Ya never know with these bodhisattva clowns, just HOW they’re gonna play out their designated role! But ONE thing I’m sure of: you can always count on jocularity and mischief thrown into the mix. But get this, Wattson:

They’re doing it all for THIS unredacted pilgrim, above and beyond anyone else!

I must therefore plan my moves carefully, that no one else get TOO uppity with their thespian prowess and steal the show right from under my nose! Pterry Pterodactyl has just reassured me this will NOT happen, he’ll make sure of it. Best comrade ever! Outside of your own honorable self, My Osmium Empress Of All Dimensions And Possibilities, of course.

– Zeke K-Holmes

From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: May 21, 2023 at 8:13 PM

> Genius, old chap, genius!

Schizophrenia IS the bane of geniuses…but for some, it’s our protective shield, our aegis! Note I’ve changed “Menicorn” to “Me-nicorn” to be sure readers catch the “me, me, me” aspect of it, since it’s the opposite of “you” as in You-nicorn.


Then, of course, there’s the jaded “Meh-nicorn.”

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Subject: Brie for me, but not for thee!
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: May 22, 2023 at 8:56 PM

Found this small round of brie three days ago on the stairway about halfway up to my hovel (see pic 1). I figured no one would be knocking on doors to track it down, or post a sign in the lobby if anyone’s found it, and could they return the item. Just the same, I popped it in my fridge for safekeeping. Now it’s day three and no one’s been asking for their cheese, so it’s green light for me! Looking for brie recipes, I settled on baked brie with blueberries.

You bake the brie for 12 to 15 minutes. Keep the rind on, slice the top off first so it won’t explode, and you’ll know it’s ready when the gooey inside begins to flow over the edge. My brie is a very small portion, so it will prolly take less time to bake…I’ll just stand there and watch.

Then drizzle blueberry sauce over it and sprinkle with more blueberries. I’ll make the sauce with a couple tablespoons of raw honey and crushed blueberries in a small saucepan.

I’ll pair the cheesy repast with watermelon juice, which I was delighted to find at the Palestinian corner store just a block away, for a decent price…$5.59 for a quart (see pic 2). No sugar, just pure juice. Unlike the watermelon/cucumber juice at Trader Joe’s, which is loaded with sugar.

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MOST bottled juices at corner stores (and even supermarkets) are way pricey these days, so I was delighted to find the watermelon a happy exception. Trader Joe’s has impressively lower prices for bottled juice, but ya gotta watch out for added sugar. I love pomegranate juice, but stopped buying it years ago because its price skyrocketed…till now it’s TWELVE FUKKIN DOLLARS per quart in most places. However, TJ’s sells it organic by the quart for just $4.99. Full strength juice is a bit much for my tongue, so I mix it with ice water 50/50 and drop a packet of Sweet ‘N’ Low into it. This method also stretches the budget. The taste is fabulous, plus pomegranates are loaded with electrolytes! As are avocados and watermelon, I’ve recently learned.

TJ’s also sells an excellent brand of chunky guacamole…$4.49 for a 10-ounce quantity (see pic 3). I use half of it per meal, and pour water over the remainder, reseal the container and place it back in the fridge. The water prevents oxidation, and it looks and tastes just as fresh the next day. Avocado is so oily it doesn’t absorb any of the water, just pour it into the sink.

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For the nonce I enjoy guacamole on the side, taking a big bite first outta my stuffed pita bread, followed by a tablespoon of guac. Yummy! BTW the pita bread is stuffed with half a cheese slice, diced strips of roasted red bell pepper and thinly sliced kalamata olives…all of which I heat up before chowing down. I also spread some TJ’s garlic paste over each pita half. Add guacomole to all those fresh flavors and ya got a taste bud extravaganza!

Shopping at TJ’s this morning, I decided to add frozen pineapple to my fruit medley. So now I can have a mix of blueberries, cherries, mango and pineapple for a fine, healthy treat every day! With a few dollops of nonfat Greek yogurt, of course.

May as well go for the gusto while I can, since our country could very well default and I’ll be downsized to living and sleeping outside and diving into dumpsters every night! Where I’d probably get more nutritional grub than at those crappy free meal places! Not to mention having to rub shoulders with all those dangerously dsyfunctional, unvaccinated indigents, many of whom are homophobic. Funny how I could wind up houseless while Deek keeps the cabin. I wouldn’t begrudge him though, for the sake of the doggies.

– Zeke K-Holmes

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Subject: Double-Lawyer Update
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: May 24, 2023 at 4:30 PM

Today I received an email from both my own attorney, and plaintiff’s attorney from the faux-dog-bite lawsuit.


1) 1:38 PM:

Mr. Krahlin,

The attached Request for Dismissal was filed with the court today. After I receive a file stamped copy I will mail it to you.

Best Regards,
Lucasio and Merrick, PC

2) 3:22 PM:

Mr. Krahlin,

I am going to send you through Docusign a new retainer for my administration. I technically had to open a new case for the notice you received for the rent issue. The existing case was for the notice related to the dog. I know this rent issue is probably going to be resolved soon but I will still need a separate retainer for this in my records.

Thank you! Please let me know if you have questions.

Magdalena Elvensborn


Now, back to watching a most entertaining retrospective on the animated series of the 2000s, Futurama. While enjoying my brie-cherry-honey victuals with a spot of tea!

– Zeke K-Holmes


Scratch that, should be “TRIPLE-Lawyer Update” ’cause THIS just came in from the American Bar Association:


Dear Ezekiel Krahlin,

You received a response from Free Legal Answers one month ago. We at Free Legal Answers want your opinion about the help you received from our site. Please take a moment to answer this brief survey about your experience with Free Legal Answers.


Thank you,

Free Legal Answers Administration


I’ll give ’em a piece of my mind soon enough, just don’t wanna deal with it right now.

Subject: I answered ABA’s “Free Legal Answers” survey with this additional comment.
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: May 25, 2023 at 2:03 PM


I was disappointed to see the Free Legal Answers page is now limited to wildfire or covid emergencies…though not clear about that since there is no statement to that effect on the home page, just a drop-down list. Many of us low income folks are in serious legal binds where help is desperately needed, and I was under the impression that the ABA is here to serve such people. But what is going on now with your “free” legal answers assists barely a sliver of those who should be eligible to use this service.

I went ahead and asked my question anyway, since I thought maybe your page was badly set up and inadvertently left out other options that don’t deal with either covid or wildfire. I got a very good answer as a result. However, I asked another important question some weeks later and received an apologetic reply that this service only handles catastrophic situations, and that answering my first question was a mistake!


I now wash my hands of ’em to enjoy a bowl of plump blueberries slathered in nonfat Greek yogurt and a packet of Sweet ‘N Low. Take THAT, American Bar Association!

– Zeke K-Holmes

Re: I answered ABA’s “Free Legal Answers” survey with this additional comment.
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: May 25, 2023 at 3:14 PM

> They’ll rue the day!

Oops, my bad. That was Abba’s website, not ABA’s! And here I thought the web page’s offer to “take a chance on me” was one attorney’s kind appeal to trust their advice.

Subject: Deek just HAD to use my phone today!
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: May 25, 2023 at 8:29 PM

First time, too, and for a damn good reason that I could NOT refuse. But let’s backtrack a little, before we get to that:

Being a Thursday–one of my two grocery shopping/errand days when Deek should NOT show up until after 2 PM–I started my morning as usual, by purchasing a cuppa java around the corner. However, I had to precede that with a visit to the local Chase branch two blocks away, to withdraw $40 since I was zilch outta cash. Which was a royal ache in the butt, due to my plantar fasciitis. Though not TOO painful anymore, but still needs rest and physical therapy AND AS LITTLE WALKING AS POSSIBLE to allow further healing. In order to ambulate in reasonable comfort I had to lean into the left side of my left foot with each step. Those gel heel pads are a BIG help, otherwise I’d suffer even MORE difficulty getting around.

So as I returned and crossed Noe Street to reach Rosenberg’s, guess who I saw traversing Market towards my block, from a distance! Deek and pups, of course. I KNEW already he’d forget about my Monday/Thursday time-off soon enough, and he did not disappoint. I hesitated a moment before entering the shop, thinking I should skip the coffee and muffin for now, and deal immediately with Deek. But then I thought, no, he’ll just have to wait. Besides, maybe he’s just passing by to some place else, in which case my plantar sacrifice would be for naught, having to turn around and march back to Rosenberg’s…extra steps I could NOT afford. For just two mornings ago when I arose from my cot and peered out the window, lo and behold, there were Lucky, Flaco and their master with his dolly weighted down by that huge speaker, walking right by my building. Without stopping to visit, or even looking up at my window.

Unfortunately, there was a delay in procuring the tawny elixir, as Felix needed to replenish the pot, which put me on hold for three minutes until the dripping ceased. I ask you, Wattson, why do the Fates tease me so? WTF did I ever do to get on their wrong side? If this is their idea of a joke, I need to drop another note in their complaint box, located at the foot of Mt. Olympus…which they seem to have removed last time I looked for it. And believe you me, good physician, I walked ’round the entire base of that hallowed mountain before giving up: thirteen days of my life wasted! I feel like a loopy version of Diogenes!

[SIDEBAR: Well, it wasn’t QUITE so bad, as I stopped along the way to enjoy the company of a faun for several hours of most meaningful and prolonged ejaculation, after which both myself and my wallet felt a great burden lifted. We really talked up a storm, I must say, LITERALLY…what with Pater Zeus being such a voyeur on his day of leisure. His thunderbolts struck quite close, numerous times. Talk about your jealous god; he knows I don’t do 3-ways, conversationally speaking! But I digress.]

Now, it is my wont every morning to sit for a few minutes on the steps of a corner store on 16th & Noe while taking sips of my coffee. From that vantage point you can see the entire intersection of Market and those two streets, including a slice of my block, up to the bus stop stall. However, just when you TURN that corner you also get a glimpse of the parking meter, twenty feet further down and almost in front of my building’s gate. The spot where Deek and mutts usually park themselves when visiting.

So, unless Deek were intently focused in the direction of that corner by the steps (and for which he’d have to be standing UP as well) no way could he spot me once I plunked my ass down. I figured then, I was safe for a couple of minutes’ respite before returning hovel and dealing with My Cajun Monkey’s latest demands. But wouldn’t you know it, Wattson, the split second it took to turn that corner, he sighted yours truly and started to wave me over with a “hurry up” gesture. I sighed then in resignation: alas, my brief doorstep dally was not to be, and coffee and muffin would have to be postponed for the nonce. Along with a REAL breakfast.

As I slowly plodded across 16th Street with my left foot at an awkward side angle, I anticipated a bombardment of yells like: “C’mon, hurry up, I don’t got all day!” But he did no such thing…I guess because he saw me limping and decided it was no prank. When I approached him, with the pups calmly seated and tethered to the bike’s handlebar about ten feet away (with bicycle fully supported by the hefty speaker resting in the granny cart, so that was okay), he told me what’s up.

He needed to call some housing agency, as he got a message from them yesterday afternoon, and no one at the tiny cabin site would let him use their phone to call back. Or anyone else he met on the street that day, who knows him.

[SIDEBAR: I have no idea how he got that message, if no one had a phone handy. Perhaps those who run the mini village received it, but don’t allow any of their charges to use their own phone.]

“I HATE where I’m living now,” he declared, albeit with a broad smile on his mug. “And when you have a chance to live somewhere else ya gotta move fast, stay on top!”

[SIDEBAR: I think his main gripe, or at least one of them, is the couple who reside right next door in the attached unit, and argue late into the night. However, his OTHER complaint is also legit: “They’re all on fentanyl over there, I don’t wanna be around that stuff.” Kudos for him!]

“Sure,” I replied, “Let me go upstairs right now to fetch my phone.”

As I opened the gate he called to me: “Ya think ya got friends but then you find out they’re jackasses!”

“Ayup,” I agreed. “They sure sound like jackasses to me! I’ll be right back.”

I placed my coffee and muffin on the workstation, put the Moto E in my pocket and returned downstairs.

“Tell me the number. I’ll dial it then hand you my phone,” I instructed him. And with that, he took the smartphone and I crouched down to adore the quadrupeds who so patiently awaited my hugs.

The conversation took barely a minute: the person he needed to speak to was out on the field. Then they asked for his phone number, since the agent might call back later.

“I don’t have a phone,” he answered. “I’m using a friend’s, is that alright?”

They said sure, so he looked down at me from where I sat on the sidewalk with Flaco on my lap and her brother under one arm, and said: “What’s your phone number?”

I told him segment by segment: three numbers, three more numbers, then four…which he repeated, so they could jot it down.

Having accomplished that, he handed me back my Moto and suggested I could feed the doggies. But before doing so I reminded him this is Thursday, my shopping day.

“Shopping?” he queried, pointing at the corner of Noe & 16th. “Where did you just come from?”

“From Rosenberg’s, for coffee,” I replied, a tad exasperated ’cause I was holding the cup RIGHT THERE IN MY HAND when I first came up to him. “That’s NOT what I mean by shopping.”

“So what kinda shopping are you talking about?” he pressed on with the nonsense.

“I told you TWICE already in the past week,” I blurted out. “Shopping for GROCERIES! I need Monday and Thursday to do my grocery shopping…du-uh!”

“You mean at these corner stores you always go to?”

“No, of course not. If that’s all I meant I wouldn’t NEED to tell you I won’t be around for those two days,” I slowly fumed. “It’s too EXPENSIVE for me to shop in the Castro anymore, so I have to go to Trader Joe’s ’cause they have really good prices. And I TOLD you that, TWICE already!”

“No, I don’t think you ever told me!” he declared.

“Yes I did,” I insisted. “You just have a lousy memory, so I ASSUME you’ll show up on those days again and again, no matter how many times I tell you.”

“No, I won’t forget, I promise,” he assured me.

“Whatever,” I said.

“You mean Trader Joe’s up there?” he asked, gesturing in the general direction of downtown.

“Yes, it’s the nearest one.” I paused then, looked him straight in the eye and said: “Well, do you have any OTHER dumb questions?”

[SIDEBAR: I’m honestly surprised he didn’t ask about that large bulge in my hoodie’s right-side pocket…after all it’s so OBVIOUS and he’s so CURIOUS about the pettiest things! But he did not, and thus my blueberry muffin remained secure from prying fingers.]

Deek’s wry grin betrayed his trickster nature as he replied: “I guess not.”

“Well that’s just dandy,” I finished. “Now let me get the pups their breakfast.”

So I limped back hovel, prepared their vittles, filled another bowl with water and snapped a lid on it, then limped back downstairs with all three bowls under one arm (and the other hand to steady them) while maneuvering around two elevator workers by the landing. I didn’t tell you before, but: there is a side door right next to the landing, which opens into the elevator shaft.

After I set down the bowls beside his cart, Deek made another request: “Oh, can you bring me a razor?”

“Are you kidding?” I squawked. “My foot is injured, I’m not gonna go back upstairs just for that, you can survive another day without a razor. Why didn’t you ask me earlier, when I was gonna fix them a meal?” (FYI, Deek’s essentially hairless and doesn’t REALLY need to shave, ever…so I have DIDDLY-SQUAT sympathy for his going without a razor.)

“I just forgot,” he replied with a shrug, then said: “Well, when you DO go back upstairs just toss one out the window.”

“Yes, that’s fine, I can do that,” I replied. “But let me spend some time with the pups since I’m already outside, please.”

He allowed that, seeing as he was now busy cleaning gunk and dust from his bike, thus would be out here for ten more minutes at least.

It was a pleasingly chill, overcast morning, and looked like it would stay that way all day long…which it did I can now say, since it’s almost 7 PM as I type this missive. IOW: perfect doggy weather! The hounds were their usual, loving selves, and their master did not disturb our joyful togetherness with snarky comebacks this time, but stayed focused on his bicycle. He was, in fact, impressively amicable. In spite of the phone call’s sorry outcome, or my snapping at him over the razor.

Around fifteen minutes later I sensed that Deek would soon depart, so decided to go back inside and FINALLY enjoy my liquid crack and muffin, then hobble on down to TJ’s via the underground. BTW before working on his bike–which he laid down partly on his lap–he had secured the leashes to the granny cart. Good job! I DON’T think he cares to bring the wrath of Zeke upon him, ever again…which WOULD happen if I ever see him lash the pooches to an upright bicycle that is NOT solidly secured by whatever means possible (such as TYING it to a tree or lamppost, or a cart, which he did today).

Soon as I set foot in my humble lair I snatched a disposable razor from my medicine cabinet and called to Deek to get his attention, then carefully tossed it so it landed close by. These razors are not only super cheap, but give a fine shave with a scant two blades. Sixty for just $8.50, from Amazon of course! I’ve tried other cheap brands, but none work anywhere NEAR as well as these! And I get three or four shaves out of each!

Around forty minutes later when I was almost ready to step back out, Deek called up to me.

“Yeah?” I said with head poked out the window.

“Bring me another razor, this one’s broken!”

“Alright,” I replied. “Just wait a minute, I’m ready to go to Trader Joe’s!”

So much for “tossing” him a razor blade, I thought. What a dildo head!

He was packed up and ready to go when I handed him a second razor. But then he requested to make another phone call, in case the agent (extension 747 I think) had returned to his office by now. So I extracted the Moto from my backpack, which I set on the ground. Flaco immediately plunked herself upon it, because the pups only had the sidewalk to rest on this time around. Seeing as I was limited in my going up and down the stairs, and fetching cardboard would just add to the pain, since I’d have to climb back upstairs, then down the rickety wooden stairs to the basement, then back up again, and finally, down the stairway to the lobby. And there WERE no cardboard sheets by the city trash bin today. Besides which: it didn’t look like their master would be visiting for long, and he didn’t.

I sat down with the brindlekin again, while Deek dialed and talked on the phone. Which was once more, brief, because Agent 747 still was not available. Upon hearing that, I stood up to retrieve my phone, hand extended. Instead, he continued to diddle with it, staring intently at the screen.

“C’mon,” I pressed. “You made your call, stop messing with my phone!”

In frustration he handed it back and said something about a recording that told him to press “2” for “priority call.”

“That doesn’t mean anything, Deek,” I retorted, but didn’t attempt to say why, as I knew he wouldn’t understand. He doesn’t even know HOW to press “2” because accessing the dial pad is also beyond his ken! Let alone tapping on the red phone icon to disconnect. And he’s refused for YEARS to let me teach him the ins and outs of making a call on these devices, which have been around for how long now?

When he saw me drop the smartphone back into my pack, he questioned me: “Will you hear it ring when it’s tucked away like that?”

Well that took the cake, so I simply replied: “NO, I’M DEAF, I CAN’T HEAR A THING!” and slung the backpack over my shoulders while he muttered something like “Never mind” or “Sorry I asked.”

A few minutes later they were off to the races, but since I was going in the same direction (towards Castro Street) I allowed myself to fall behind, because I had to walk slower than them, and didn’t want to be TOO close to the mutts else they’d keep looking back and slow their master down. But as it turned out, they kept turning their heads toward me just the same, with those sweet, caring faces…appearing almost hurt that I wasn’t right there beside them.

I caught up with the trio anyway since Deek paused by a trash bin near the corner, so I pet the pups once more. It was then Deek turned around and realized I was there.

“Takin’ the Metro?” he queried.

“Yeah, it’s quicker that way,” I replied.

“So how much does THAT cost you?”

“It’s free,” I retorted. “The city LOVES me!”

And with that, we went our separate ways.

It’s now 8:30 PM, good medic, and Deek has not returned to find out if they ever called back, or to make another call himself. You just can’t tie a trickster like that down to any schedule, I suppose.

– Zeke K-Holmes

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Subject: 5 snapshots of Deek & Pooches
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: May 26, 2023 at 3:41 PM

Pic #1 is from yesterday…the rest are this afternoon. LOVELY weather both days!

When he showed up he asked if that homeless agency called back…they didn’t. But he never asked if he could call them again, so I guess he saw no point in following through. I suspect they give up readily when a potential client uses someone else’s phone. Or that, more likely, this particular agency focuses on families, according to their website.

Except for that crass idiot screeching about pedophiles (which went on for a half hour or so) it’s been a placid, balmy-cool day. I watched over the hounds while their master slept…mostly checking on them from my window (especially whenever they barked) but also spending a few minutes with ’em downstairs now and then. Fed them, watered them, replaced their worn out leashes. Scritched ’em, hugged ’em, kissed ’em…gave ’em treats, too. Nice touch, all those colorful flowers decorating the cart.

Looking forward to another great episode of Memo of the Weird this evening! Hope your day is also going well, Wattson!

– Zeke K-Holmes

Subject: He Just Won’t Shut Up! [9 sec. video]
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: May 26, 2023 at 4:03 PM

This afternoon a houseless fellow decided to park himself right across from Deek, who had shown up a half hour earlier, and was now trying to have a peaceful rest. Instead, the intruder started to yammer conspiracy crap in a loud timbre, mostly about mind control and pedophiles. (Of course, pedophiles, ’cause he’s in a gay neighborhood dontcha know, a choice spot for homophobes to terrorize our community whenever they get the chance. Sometimes I think this Christianized neo-Nazi dogma is in Uncle Sam’s DNA.) Deek was about to nod off, even told the fool to shut up, but to no avail. So often, when one indigent finds a decent place to relax, another will appear to ruin the ambience. But Deek’s a solid sleeper and got his shuteye regardless. The pups, on the other hand, were on guard to protect their master (though amazingly mellow), and therefore didn’t get much rest until the offender quieted down. Which he did a half hour later, thank Glob.

Subject: Disruption Out Front [another 9 sec. video]
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: May 26, 2023 at 9:50 PM

Very disappointing that the fellow who wouldn’t shut up appeared again to hang out for THREE MORE HOURS to resume his screeching conspiracy and pedophilia. When he quieted down for awhile I chose that window of opportunity to bring the pups a second meal. Deek was still zonked out, but not much longer, since a couple of friendly vagrants showed up. But then that screechy black lady made her appearance a bit later on…she was drunk and a pest. Sat real close to the pups, disturbed their rest upon which they started to bark like crazy. Deek told her to go away, but she lingered on for another ten minutes, stirring up the shit. She even accused Flaco of biting her! “She bit my ankle! She bit my ankle!” Her disruption just served to make that crazy old dude rant even louder. None of this was Deek’s fault, but he took this as a sign it’s time to vamoose. Notice how calm the mutts are amid the cacophany. I stepped out to collect the sleeping bag, wish My Scrappy Trio a lovely night, and clean up the little mess left behind.

Re: Seeking Grammar Nerds for Friendly Commiseration
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: MCN announcement, MCN discussion
Date: May 26, 2023 at 10:35 PM

On Tue, 23 May 2023 17:52:40 -0700 Ladye Birdsong posted:

> Join the Mendo Coast Chapter of Grammar Nerds

Oh that’ll be a flop.

Re: Seeking Grammar Nerds for Friendly Commiseration
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: MCN announcement, MCN discussion
Date: May 27, 2023 at 1:39 AM

On Saturday, May 27, 2023 12:55 AM Alvin Hope posted:

> Maybe not a flop. So many dull and easily distracted flunkaholics here. Look at Laughing Tits and Sewer Boy for obvious and oblivious openers. Filcher will be right along, too. He flunked sixth grade and dropped out of Alviso School, you know. Then there is Taipei Rose who tries and fails to cover her low IQ dropout status with intricately shaped Pollyanna back patting exercises. That’s four. Maybe they could play bridge! That’d provide a fascinating distraction. No need for Blackwood, they’ll have their own routines, cards up the sleeves and all. It could go transcendent if one card were taken out and the deck composed of 51 cards plus a joker!! Heh heh Deadwood Saloon days. I’ll bet Taipei packs a gun, she’s the type, wearing crinoline, seeing ghosts and shooting distractedly at the bartender’s glass. Leroy Brown don’t have nottin’ on that wench. Winch. Which witch?

Spot on parody, Alan…lifted my spirit. And here I thought my spirit was already lifted as high as it could go, in light of the remarkable transformations I’ve recently gone through. Yet here YOU come along with the pithy wit of a backwards shaman.

Subject: Somehow, I missed part 4 of Shadow Box!
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: May 27, 2023 at 10:38 AM

This was Marshall’s podcast for May 19th, which I listened to in its entirety…like I always do each episode. Disappointed that he read nothing by you, nor by Erwyn or Mel Porter, so I felt kinda lonely when he eventually got to MY piece in the final half hour. Then when next Friday came, I heard him announce “part 5 of Wattson’s Shadow Box,” which he then read.

“Part 5? What happened to part 4?” I thought, then concluded that somehow it must have eluded me. So this morning I downloaded the May 19th podcast again and jumped through every five minutes of the 7-hour recording, but could not find your piece. I actually did this TWICE. Don’t know what to do at this point but apologize.

– Zeke K-Holmes

Re: Seeking Grammar Nerds for Friendly Commiseration
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: May 27, 2023 at 1:19 PM

> Between you and me, I think Alvin’s “humor” is strained, heavy-footed and unfunny.

Agreed. But I’m placing select cards on the table for a nobler purpose. A form of responsible manipulation in light of the Nazi presence on that list. Alvin’s like a child walking into flames while I toss a protective shield over him. I especially appreciate Mel Porter’s participation in a similar fashion, in recent months. In sum:

It’s a dirty job, but somebody’s gotta do it!

– Zeke K-Holmes

Re: Somehow, I missed part 4 of Shadow Box!
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: May 27, 2023 at 2:21 PM

> Hmmm. I know he skipped Shadow Box one week and read my Mother Jones illegal abortion story. I kinda lost track. I’ll ask Marshall himself.

He read part 3 of Shadow Box, immediately followed by the much longer abortion piece three episodes ago, May 12th. The entire audio is almost 48 minutes long. Shadow Box comprises the first 9 minutes (including Marshall’s introduction and side comments).

Note: for some stupid reason the uploaded copy trimmed off the first four words: “I have the third.” So it starts with: “part of Eleanor Cooney’s story, the Shadow Box…”

So, part 4 should’ve been narrated on his show dated May 19th. However, it may be difficult for him to recall at which time he read it, since he doesn’t break down his show into segments on his podcast page. It is also possible he may have inadvertently excluded it, in his shuffling around on the tablet where he keeps his Friday night material.

> Interesting side note: The piece ran in the AVA and was read by Marshall on the radio, but I have not heard or seen one single comment about it.

I just checked myself…no comments on parts 1 through 4, but ONE for part 5.

> My theory is that it violates the party line, which is a stern, dogmatic “Television bad!” mentality. I’m committing a sacrilege by daring to talk about its many positive, life-enriching qualities. How dare I!

Definitely a status marker among the new-age, affluent snobs who poison themselves with kombucha and anti-vax nonsense…the latter providing a strong overlap with the right-wing, dumbed down goons. Makes me ill just to think about that! I clearly possess new-agey concepts myself, but certainly do NOT march in goose step!

– Zeke K-Homes

Re: Somehow, I missed part 4 of Shadow Box!
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: May 27, 2023 at 3:12 PM

> See my response.

“Never argue with stupid people, they will drag you down to their level and then beat you with experience.”

Re: Somehow, I missed part 4 of Shadow Box!
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: May 27, 2023 at 7:45 PM

> “Never wrestle a pig. You will get dirty, and the pig will enjoy it.”

I’ll try to remember that.


Oh, another Twainish quote, very funny. Ha ha.

Coming to a Head: Thar She Blows!

May 21, 2023

[Brindlekin Tales – Book 8: Chapter 2]

Subject: Today’s email to my attorney
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: May 17, 2023 at 3:03 PM


Subject: Another update, looks good!

Cortez Garciak is not the manager, he is a young fellow assisting our maintenance man Victor, but has been assigned to straighten out the missing check debacle. I know this now because he came to my door just a little while ago (with Victor) to ask about my April and May payments. I explained to him in a nutshell my situation, and that I’m working this out with my attorney. Adolfo explained that April and May checks are missing for other residents, too, and he has been asked to look into it. So he jotted off on a printout of residents, “talk to attorney” beside my name, and thanked me for my patience. So he now realizes my payment is in the process of being straightened out between my attorney and opposing counsel.

The exchange was amicable, and we now know that I am not the only one with this missing check issue. Which is certainly a relief! Adolfo also started to explain that our building manager, Kevin Bond, is ill…but I cut him off, told him I understand perfectly, and have no anger over this, but every sympathy for his medical condition. He said the “missing” checks are probably somewhere in Kevin’s apartment, but he’s not privy to going in there to search for them himself. In short:

So I DO know who Cortez Garciak is, and he’s a very nice fellow. I asked about receipts, and he said his method is to cut a receipt for each tenant after he gathers up all payments. But he’ll be glad to give me a receipt for both months immediately. Otherwise, he’ll deliver receipts to all residents this Friday.

I’m comfortable with this, so if you give me the go ahead, I’ll hand Adolfo my rent for April and May later today, or tomorrow. Thanks again!


Subject: A Lovely Evening with Deek & Pups!
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: May 17, 2023 at 4:22 PM

My plantar fasciitis had simmered down by yesterday morning, thanks mainly to the treatments I applied to my ailing left foot, as instructed by “Bob & Brad, the two most famous physical therapists on the Internet” via this video: “The 5 Things Anyone With Plantar Fasciitis Should Do Every Morning.”

But for two days I really wasn’t amenable to marching up and down the stairs, so hoped that Deek wouldn’t show up until I had recovered at least SOMEwhat. And that’s exactly how it went down, Wattson! By yesterday afternoon I was feeling my chipper self, with barely an ache in my heel. And then Deek and furry charges arrived around 9:30 PM. Perfect timing, especially since I had JUST finished my dinner! (Coincidence? I think not; he KNEW when to keep away, being the bodhisattva guardian he is.)

I was two-thirds of the way through watching that delightful movie, “Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy,” for the second time (the first time, years ago), when Deek called up to my window. The pooches were already off leash (well, the leashes were on, but not tethered to anything), so the moment I appeared at the gate, they ran up in eager greets, jumping up and down with delight.

“Well hello there, my angels!” I spoke while maneuvering through the open gate so they wouldn’t dash inside. But it looked like they weren’t gonna do that anyway, they were just so HAPPY to see me. Deek had already laid out a generous heap of found clothing for them to rest upon, so I brought them back to that spot before kneeling down and showering them both with hugs and kisses. A fine prelude to what turned out to be a splendid evening from start to finish. Now get this, Wattson:

Deek even had little shirts for the doggos! Lucky’s was an orange and black “Giants” T-shirt, and his sister’s was light blue with a nursery rhyme about the cow and the moon, in dark gray script with images. “I must’ve died and gone to heaven,” was all I could think! But if such really occurred, I surmise it was on the afternoon of April 21st when I had my “LARC-apade.” For that is when my life truly took a turn for the better. Though maybe the truth is: we ALL die and go to heaven every night, and we just need to wake up to that epiphany.

I spent a solid two hours outside with the mutts while their master commiserated with another indigent, off to the side, tended to rolling some blunts, “niggah-rigged” another pair of sneakers, and so forth. And once more, Heimdall showed up, which made last night’s get-together that much more festive. He loved watching Flaco attempt to fluff up a pillow that was already at maximum fluff. Her effort was futile of course, but we both enjoyed the doggy fanfare before she finally plopped herself down in triumph.

Just before I returned hovel to prepare their meals, Deek handed me a one-pound bag of specialty kibble. “What is this?” he asked. “Would the dogs like it?”

“Probably,” I said. “I’ll check it out upstairs.” Turned out to be a good quality chow for mixing in with their regular meal, or to use for treats. But then I discovered that the bag had already been open (albeit resealed), so I decided to toss it. When I returned outside with their din-din, I told Deek:

“It’s good stuff, but since it was open I didn’t wanna take the chance.”

“Whadda you mean?” he queried.

“For their safety,” I replied. “I know most people mean well when sharing dog treats, but ya never know. If the bag was already open, don’t accept from strangers, is MY rule of thumb. Or take it, say thank you and get rid of it later.”

Instead of arguing, he simply said, “Okay.”

While I was reclining beside the pups a car pulled up and parked, and the hounds began to bark like wild when the door opened and they saw another canine inside. I grasped their collars while their master yelled:


The brindlekin quieted down immediately, looking at their master with shame.

“They don’t know any better, Deek,” I remarked while clutching the pooches close to me. “They grew up on the streets and think they need to defend you at every turn. All the crazy people roamin’ around, they have to DEAL with that, just like the rest of us.”

Again (and to my pleasure), he accepted my take on the matter and spoke not a word in opposition.

Before departing, Deek also asked for a fresh supply of doggy vittles, as well as new rap songs:

“I didn’t care for most of the new music you put on my chip last time.”

“Sorry to hear that,” I replied. “But I’m not a mind reader…I just looked for rap artists from the last several years till now.”

“That’s okay,” he answered. “You said you have some MORE new rappers for me to try?”

“Yes,” I said. “Eight more artists, almost 500 songs. It’ll take less than ten minutes to copy them over.”

So I went upstairs to do that, and stuffed a plastic grocery bag with eight cans of “stew” style dog food and two gallon-size baggies of kibble. Along WITH that I dropped several handfuls of doggy treats into another baggy, from my OWN stash: soft Milk Bones and gourmet duck breast wedges…to make up for the quality kibble Deek gave me, now discarded.

He then wished me a good night and took off with the demi-dachshunds, and I returned hovel to finish watching “Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy.” In a greater state of bliss than before.

– Zeke K-Holmes

Subject: “I, Elevator!” (13 sec. video)
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: May 18, 2023 at 10:44 AM

Soon ready to go into operation, our new elevator proudly boasts “I” on its digital display. Are we waiting for the full “I am” or is that it? Only time will tell, once the circuitry is complete. I just hope it doesn’t reach a level of sentience where it could have bad hair days! People lifter or people killer? As I said: only time will tell. Just glad I live on the second floor and not the third or fourth.

Subject: Success (another email to my attorney)!
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: May 18, 2023 at 3:13 PM


Subject: Got my receipt for April/May!

I decided to go ahead and slip my 2-month payment under Mr. Garciak’s door last night, as an act of good faith. Seeing as he was respectful towards me, and, thanks to his explanation, it is now clear no nonsense is going on re. my missing rent check. And, as he promised, he delivered the receipt soon as he got my check. When I returned from grocery shopping this afternoon I found my receipt folded and stuck in the crack between door and frame. Here it is:

In order he knows for sure I got it (and for good will’s sake), I texted him the following:

So, all’s well that ends well? I think yes!

– Ezekiel


Click here for a larger view.

Subject: Keeping One Muffin Ahead of the Game
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: May 18, 2023 at 9:28 PM

To be clear, Wattson, for this particular missive I’m talkin’ BLUEBERRY muffins, not English!

[SIDEBAR (see pic): That’s my Chromebook behind the muffin, with the “SF 10-33” page on display, a streaming station described as “ambient music mixed with the sounds of San Francisco public safety radio traffic.” I’ve been playing it almost nonstop for the past few weeks as I compose my tales and contemplate the world’s impending obliteration. VERY relaxing, plus I enjoy hearing all these excellent people devoted to saving lives and keeping a sense of community alive. To the left of my Chromebook are two external hard drives: bottom one with the rounded orange corners is 1 terabyte, used to back up all my data and miscellaneous crap…top one is 2 terabytes for all my downloaded movies and TV shows yet to be viewed. They are stuck together with Velcro strips, and secured to the desk in the same manner.]

I’ve only recently resumed enjoying my daily morning repast of a blueberry muffin WITH my battery acid, something I USED to do frequently during my coffeehouse years. But Rosenberg’s ran OUT of ’em several weeks back, and wouldn’t have any more till the next delivery some unknown days later! Turns out there’s this fellow who purchases a dozen muffins every Sunday before he goes off somewhere to share them at whatever meeting he attends (maybe church, maybe LGBT group, maybe Alcoholics Anonymous…who knows, but I curse him just the same). Mind you, he orders OTHER muffins, too, besides blueberry: Frosted Crumb Cake, Chocolate Chocolate Chip, Vanilla Cream Crunch and Banana Bread Revelation. But rest assured, Blueberry Fiesta is among them! And this is how I came to learn of that:

Some ten or so days ago I was disappointed to discover yet again, no more blueberry muffins! No sooner did I realize that, than some tall, skinny fellow in his mid-fifties steps in, checks out the muffins himself, and declares to the cashier: “You’re outta blueberry muffins today!”

Pallas replied: “Yes! We’ve had a run on them this month, like hotcakes!” (Of which they are a close cousin, I should note.)

So I turned towards the other patron and addressed him censoriously: “So YOU’RE my competition!”

He chuckled, said, “Yeah, I guess so, since I purchase three or four every week, along with all the OTHER flavors!”

“Actually, I have a confession to make,” I sheepishly admitted. “I’M the competition, as I’ve only commenced my daily binge of blueberry muffins barely a month ago. I DO apologize, but I’m NOT gonna stop!”

Then, about a week later it occurred to me to buy an extra blueberry muffin later in the day, whenever there were only one or two left that morning, after my purchase! So when the next day of sparsity arrived, I did just that: stepped back into Rosenberg’s later that evening, and bought myself a muffin to enjoy the next morning! That way, I’d gain at least another day of blueberry muffin joy before the famine strikes once again. But get this, Wattson:

There has BEEN no shortage ever since, presumably because Felix, the owner of Rosenberg’s, made the wise choice to increase his weekly delivery of this cherished comestible, so that NO muffin wars would break out in HIS Establishment! Truly, a man of peace.

But as a result I am now stuck with an extra muffin every morning, and must ingest the one acquired the day before, instead! I guess I COULD skip a day’s purchase to rectify this needless hoarding, but the fear of running short of blueberry muffins some time in the future, keeps me up at night! Conclusion:


But maybe there’s a positive spin to this…after all, I AM keeping one blueberry muffin ahead of your average Joe! But like a house of gingerbread cards, it could collapse at any moment! Perhaps if I shuffle the deck now and then, I’d come up with more than just crumbs? I dunno, Wattson, seems kinda risky to me. Maybe it’s “batter” to just let the blueberries fall where they may: into the bowl. “Walk softy and carry a wooden spoon,” as the paraphrased saying goes. No point in stirring things up when blueberries abound, eh, good physician?


Heimdall (the Viking dude) showed off this elegant tapestry he had folded up in his cart. Of thin, off-white cloth with a rough texture, it featured a large, dark blue silhouette of an elephant bordered in triangular and square blocks of solid green and orange.

“Soon as I get my apartment,” he boasted, “I’m gonna frame this and hang it up!” He added he’s gonna have his own place soon, two or three weeks from now.

“Wow, that’s EXACTLY what I need!” Deek exclaimed…as he does for ANYthing someone has that he thinks can be sold for a princely sum of ten “dollah” or more. But pretends it’s of personal value for his own enjoyment, and nothing more. IOW a trickster’s scam.

But Heimdall saw through that, said “No I’m keeping it,” and tucked it back away. Good for him. But let’s ponder upon the image ON that tapestry for a moment, Wattson. Signifying, perhaps, another greeting by Ganesha waving right in front of my face: the Hindu elephant god known as “The Remover of All Obstacles.” Who previously paid me a visit through an elephant idol Deek showed me one day, many moons ago. At least, that’s how THIS devout pilgrim likes to see it, considering all the obstacles I’VE recently overcome!

I like this new Deek, he brings up interesting (and important) topics without my goading him. That night he asked about the trans person who was recently executed by a Walgreens security guard.

“I didn’t get to see the video!” he exclaimed. “Did she do anything to anger the guard?”

“Not really,” I replied. “He grabbed her first, she pushed him away and then suddenly he threw her down to the ground and beat the devil outta her. She then got up, and upon exiting turned to him and hollered something, then just when she was about to turn around and leave for good he shot her in the chest.”

Long story short: Deek agreed what the guard did was downright evil, as was the judge’s decision to declare him innocent of any wrongdoing.

“But neither judge nor guard will get away with it in the long run,” I concluded. “They’re cool as cucumbers right now, but you just wait and see how fate turns against them a little further down the line. Justice will have its way.”


Like all the other situations of critical import in my world these past several years, and their resolution: the timing is spot on. More like a SCRIPT than anything that occurs in real life, which is inevitably sloppy, convoluted and loose-ended. Although at THIS point in my trail of adventures and mishaps, I wonder if “real life” was ever a thing at all! I’m so far removed from what most folks call “reality” I can’t even grok Saturday Night Live anymore. But maybe that’s because they jumped the shark when Elon Musk hosted the show back in May of 2021. Be that as it may, my point re. “timing” in this latest adventure is explained herein:

No sooner had I hinted to Magdalena that she query Ablahblah’s attorney as to what happened with April’s check, than our new quasi-manager, Cortez, knocked on my door to provide a concise answer! And so it goes: every crisis in my Brindlekin Tales always comes with its own resolution in short shrift, like a plot in a comedy of errors, that is: SCRIPTED. As for my decision to slip my April/May rent check under Mr. Garciak’s door:

It didn’t come easy, as much deliberation preceded that history-making act of courage. The urge to do so first stirred while hovel and finishing my evening sup last night.

“Go ahead and slip it under the door!” a little birdie told me (though more likely a pterodactyl, but I digress). “You have nothing to lose at this point, Zeke, and everything to gain!”

The urge was so strong by the time I finished washing the dishes, brushed my teeth, did my plantar fasciitis workout and downloaded the latest Youtube videos for later viewing, I actually broke out my checkbook and filled out a check for two months’ payment, with the memo “Rent for Apr.-May ’23,” signed it…but left the date part vacant. Figuring I should wait until I hear from my attorney first, which would most likely be tomorrow, but not so sure about that.

Then I set aside the check and kicked back to watch some of those new videos, until I could no longer resist the nagging slide-the-damn-check-under-his-door-already voice clanging in my skull. So I grabbed the check and wrote yesterday’s date on it: “May 17, 2023,” placed it inside an envelope sealed with a puppy sticker, then suddenly found myself standing outside room 209, still hesitant and pondering whether or not it’s a good idea.

“I forgot my camera!” I thought. “Should I go back and retrieve it? Is it absolutely necessary? Do not the good words of devilishly handsome Cortez count for anything, along with Victor as my witness? Would this not be a profound act of good faith in a young buck obviously proud of this new responsibility, that my thrusting this check under his door with but little resistance be like a rocket’s ejaculation into space that would send him off to the stars? Wouldn’t I feel good about that? Wouldn’t HE feel good about that? Wouldn’t we BOTH be orgasmically relieved of this long-tumescent tension spurred by an unresolved issue building up within the loins of our passionate itch to work things out amicably? Or would my continued resistance be a more responsible way to handle this mishap, though droolingly succulent Cortez be blameless?”

Well, Wattson, I stood there for several minutes while these thoughts bounced around in my cranium, but finally, it all came to a head, whereupon I bent down towards the foot of the door to force the envelope through that narrow slit which, to my boundless ecstasy, was sufficiently tight, but not overly so. For it provided just enough pressure to coyly resist for a few savory moments before I could thrust it all the way inside, as far as it could possibly go without actually fusing the two of us into one being of pure bliss: door and Zeke. At this euphorically trembling point I knew NO ONE ELSE could manage to work it back out with their fingers, except Cortez himself, should he choose to do just that, and decouple with a deep, slow moan of a job well done. Or just let it remain stuffed up that proverbial, tight crack according to his pleasure. And my ability to firmly deliver my long-suppressed payload with the rigid and prolonged salute of a decorated war veteran obedient to his sergeant, pumping wads and wads of utmost devotion like a gushing fire hose let loose and outta control. In sum:

It felt GOOD to put my thrust in the budding lad, and so I returned to my room a better man for that (and hornier to boot)!

– Zeke K-Holmes

Click here for a larger view.

Subject: My New Halvah Recipe
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: May 19, 2023 at 12:36 PM

[Specifically concocted for the toothless or those well on the way, though anyone can enjoy this healthy delight.]

One could hardly call it “halvah” at this point, due to all the added ingredients. Suffice it to say it’s a wholesome, sticky blend of ground up grains, seeds, nuts, tahini, honey and cinnamon, that goes great with a cuppa tea, my fave being “Twining’s Black Currant.” Before I came up with this “pimped-out halvah” recipe, I was adding the ground up nuts, seeds and hemp hearts to my banana smoothie, along with some peanut butter. But due to gastric disruptions caused by ingesting my smoothie, I’ve had to eliminate the source, which I discovered to be bananas and possibly peanut butter. I’m also sick of cow milk, so eliminated THAT from my diet as well. And switched to soy beverage, either plain or with added cocoa powder and Sweet ‘N’ Low. So instead of creating smoothies I now have added the nuts and seeds to my halvah to come up with the following recipe:

1 multigrain crispbread cracker (3×4″ or equivalent)
1 plump handful of raw pumpkin seeds
2 tablespoons of hemp seed hearts
2 handfuls of mixed, raw walnuts and pecans
1/4 teaspoon of Ceylon cinnamon powder
4 tablespoons of tahini
5 teaspoons of raw honey

– Toss broken up cracker, pumpkin seeds and hemp into a blender, then grind it all down into a meal.*
– Toss walnuts and pecans into a smaill food processor, then grind it all down into a meal.*
– Pour the above ingredients into a bowl.
– Thoroughly mix into the bowl the cinnamon powder, tahini and honey.

This makes two to three individual servings (attached pic shows a 1/3 portion). Refrigerate what you won’t eat right away in a sealed container for later consumption. Lasts for days.

* Note that instead of a blender to grind up the seeds you can use a clean coffee mill or similar appliance. Also: a blender is not sufficient to grind up the nuts, so that’s why the food processor.

– Zeke K-Holmes

Subject: I now have a pterodactyl cursor!
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: May 19, 2023 at 8:59 PM

Only for my Firefox browser, but I use that app far more than any other. Found it while searching for “pterodactyl mouse cursor.” See attached video.

Would’ve been the highlight of my day (well, either that or securing my two USB hubs and the external hard drives to the bottom of my desk riser top with Velcro strips, thus freeing up more space on my work station)…but for Deek and pups’ arrival mid-afternoon.

It went great! I fed the pups while he went off somewhere for fifteen minutes or so. While I was sitting the angels some young woman came up and offered me two boxed dinners. I didn’t open them, just passed them on to Deek once he returned a short while later.

“See, Deek?” I declared upon handing him the vittles still in their brown paper bag with those twine handles I remember from childhood. “You asked for five dollars, I said no, and you wound up getting over TWENTY dollars in a delicious double-repast!”

Upon opening the first box, it Looked like the grub was from the Mediterranean Cafe around the corner: juicy plump drumsticks in a savory red sauce, pilaf salad and home fries.

Soon as he scooped his fingers into the treasure with gusto, I procured four GWs and quarters from my pocket and placed them on his cross-legged lap. He grinned at me with sauce around his mouth, said “Hey thanks, didn’t expect that!”

“You’ve already gotten your full month’s allowance two WEEKS ago,” I admonished with a wag of my index finger, “so do NOT ask me for five dollars every time you drop by, PLEASE!”

But I fear, Wattson, he’s now likely to visit MORE often, just for the sake-a-da-moolah, since I caved in today. And put the thought in his head in the first place.

The dogs were disappointed their master didn’t share (and I’m glad he didn’t), but I soon distracted them by bringing down their own duck breast and milk bone treats. I hanged with ’em for almost an hour, enjoying the mutts’ company with Lucky zonked out on my lap and his sister stretched snugly beside me. Of course I had already provided them with a large sheet of cardboard and a sleeping bag.

Deek played the asshole for awhile, blathering how homosexuality is not natural, Michael Savage is a wise man, and other nonsense he knew would irk me…as he noshed happily away. But it did not, for I realized it was another test of my emotional stability, so all I said (while scritching Lucky’s belly) was:

“Keep on spewing idiocy all you want, I’m not listening and I’d much rather enjoy your darling dogs’ company in peace! I know you’re tryin’ to work my nerves.”

But he kept it up for ten minutes more while I focused on the brindlekin with adoring words and pats, before he decided it’s better to simply enjoy the lovely spring weather in friendly company. After, of course, performing his bodhisattva duty to observe my constancy (or lack thereof), that is: to see whether or not he could get under my skin. I obviously passed the test with flying crullers.

“No doubt he’ll report the upbeat outcome back to headquarters, where Larkin rules, shortly after he leaves,” I mused in silence. I have NO idea where it’s located, but I’m sure somewhere nearby!

Some time later, after a few satisfied belches on his part and fussing with the contents of his granny cart, he picked up the leashes, thanked me for all I do, and wished me an excellent night.

“God bless your little family, Deek, and happy trails!” I matched his words in kind, feeling pleased as punch that a joyous future was secured for us all. And I sensed he felt likewise. In conclusion:

Deek’s raucous behavior over the years was a ruse all along…to get me to where I am now: a beautiful space beyond my greatest expectations!

– Zeke K-Holmes


Before uploading the video to Youtube I created a new screen recording on a dummy email with your addy “My Dear Wattson <mdwattson@geemail.com>” and mine: “Ezekiel Krahlin <gay-bubble.org>.”

Don’t know why that little companion showed up when I enlarged the screen! Maybe a glitch in the screen recorder, or perhaps a conflict with the display chip. But I like that Pterry has a mini-me for company…who knows, could be yers truly!

Re: Keeping One Muffin Ahead of the Game
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: May 20, 2023 at 10:09 PM

> There’s a pretty good blubbery muffin available up here, too, made by Boont Farm in Boonville. I don’t get one every day, but maybe once a week. Eat it in the car, moist crumbs falling.

“Blubbery?” Were those ericaceous fruits fermenting? Or did you get all blubbery with joy upon the first bite? Be that as it may:

Watch out, Wattson, blueberry muffin addiction creeps up on you when you least expect it, et voila!, you’re hooked and scarfing them up every day. Sadly, nearest BMA (Blueberry Muffins Anonymous) is way out there in Sacramento. Cold turkey is my only option, but who on Glob’s green earth even MAKES turkey muffins? So it’s “gobble gobble gobble” those “blubbery” muffins till the cows come home, for “moi!”

> I’m out of Rudi’s, must endure inferior Orowheat muffins. The only similarity is the shape.

Greek tragedy is toying with you! But I have a confession to make: those Thomas’ multigrain muffins were so AWFUL they make Orowheat shine! Absolutely NO flavor, like eating margarine on weathered cardboard. I managed to consume two in one week’s time before I threw the rest away. Small price to pay, though, for that outstanding Pterry dialog!

> What kind of a piggy person would buy ten muffins?

One who has a whole sounder of pigs to feed?

> I limit myself to two packages of Rudi’s at a time.

Your self control is admirable, good doctor.

> Oh, naughty, naughty rent-paying escapade. I know smutty innuendo when I see it!

Leave it to highbrow YOU (Morticia) to catch my subtle allusion to weaknesses of the flesh…it’s my trademark! I would never DREAM of knocking my readers over the noggin with such filth. Though I fear my oblique, Victorian-esque approach may go over way too many pulsating heads, like a strong breeze across a field of stinkhorns! But for those who DO grok the schlock, I give fair warning:

My fans will need to keep the smelling salts handy to get through THOSE two salty paragraphs! I suspect pheromones wafting through the doorway cracks that put me in such a randy spell. It was a trap! Had I lingered even a second more I’d’ve collapsed into a quivering lump of ecstasy, and my rent check would’ve dissolved into the carpet. Furthermore:

Eat your heart out, Edward George Earle Bulwer-Lytton!

– Zeke K-Holmes

P.S.: Ironic that just when I finally resolve this drawn-out struggle to resume paying my rent, looms the imminent threat I may soon be homeless anyway, if this sorry nation defaults!

Click here for a larger view.

Subject: Yay! Another letter on my door!
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: May 21, 2023 at 8:59 AM

Of course I was apprehensive about opening it, and not too pleased to start my day like this. “Now what is THIS about?” I wondered, sand still in my eyes. “Another 3-Day Notice? Deek being noisy with his boombox for a few minutes last night? A proposal from Cortez that we elope?” It was neither hand delivered with a knock on my door, nor sealed in an envelope. It was simply folded in thirds and taped to my door.

– Zeke K-Holmes



In case many of you were not aware, Kevin Bond has once again taken a leave of absence from his position of Building Manage and some handwritten notices have gone up by someone telling us to give him the rent checks instead. If like myself, you have not met this Cortez Garciak do not give the rent checks to him. Syet Ablahblah has not taken it upon himself to even send us letters to let us know Cortez has been assigned as the new contact person. Let's not forget all the mounting other issues that are going on with this building.

1. No hot water most of March
2. No elevator availability for coming up on 7 years
3. The blood smear upon the wall just to the left of the first landing coming up from the stairs from the foyer
4. Holes in the hallway / staircase carpets that needs replacing
6. No access to the washer / dryer units that is well known to be in the building but not allowed to use by Building Manager
7. Continuous bedbug / mice problems and no sign of any pest control visits to get them under control
8. Tiles in the foyer in desperate need of being replaced
9. Lack of communication for owners / management about when things are going to be fixed or whom is actually going to be in charge with Kevin out of commission
10. Backed-up plumbing issues (toilet or sink) that takes more than a day for a plumber to come and take a look at

Basically, this is just a small sampling of what's going on and I'm sure you all might have additional issues that have not been listed and if you do, let Syed know by calling / texting him at 415-xxx-xxxx and make your voices heard!

At this moment and time, I'm calling for RENT WITHHOLDING by the entire building until we meet Syed face-to-face and he starts owning up to these issues as well as getting us updates as to when (not if) they're going to be fixed with a set schedule and plans to follow-up on them. Make sure that even though you're withholding the rent to keep the funds in a safe account until these issues are resolved. Now if anyone here is threatened with an eviction type notice for not paying the rent, I assure you that the City Housing Authority as well as the City Rent Board are majorly aware of the issues going on here and are open to hearing more complaints come in as well as provided a website for us to go to in order to fight any evictions.

Jackie Thornhill: Jackie.thornhill@sfgov.arg

Carl Nicita: carl.nicita@sfgov.arg

Dennis Yee: dennis.yee@sfgov.arg


Subject: Yay! Another email to my attorney!
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: May 21, 2023 at 9:23 AM


Subject: Another letter taped to my door this morning (Sunday)!

Turned out to not be aimed at me, but one posted to every resident’s door regarding shoddy management. I’m sure my rent check will get to Ablahblah shortly, regardless. This letter shows me that a lawsuit is likely to be instigated by others in the building, which of course will take this burden off my hands. I could just join the lawsuit if it comes to that, like I did for a previous grievance among tenants well over a decade ago.

[google drive link to that letter]


Subject: Request to keep my gay-bible.org website active (annual renewal).
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: Support at Online Policy Group
Date: May 21, 2023 at 12:17 PM

Per this notice received last month. Thank you IMMENSELY!

——– Original Message ——–
Subject: 90 Day Renewal Reminder 07-21-2023
Date: 2023-04-22 19:56
From: Online Policy Group
To: Ezekiel Krahlin, gay-bible.org

Dear Customer,

Your domain name(s) will expire in 90 days. Act now to avoid any disruption to email or website services and avoid losing your chosen name(s).

The domain name(s) due for renewal are:

DOMAIN NAME = gay-bible.org
EXPIRY DATE = 07-21-2023

Thank you for your attention.

From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: May 21, 2023 at 1:36 PM

As I’ve claimed many times before, Wattson. What gave it away in that letter is the mention of the blood on the wall. For it is one incident I’ve neglected to inform my attorney about, and it’s been nagging at me to add this to my list of grievances already in her “Zeke” folder. So I was gonna report this to her some time this week, with a photo. But instead, the surprise letter posted to my door this morning took care of that! Seeing as bodhisattva wizards are TELEPATHIC when need be, among their many other great talents. Now for the rest of this script as I predict per My Bodhisattva Premise:

Remember that Ablahblah Realty, along with their attorney, are in on this too, gleefully playing their Snidely Whiplash to my Dudley Do-Right. After all, who DOESN’T love to play the evil protagonist on stage; it’s a cherished role actors often FIGHT over for the honor. A class action lawsuit will ensue, with all plaintiffs awarded a payment of around $15,000 each…based on a previous suit I was part of, in which we each collected $14,000. But unlike the first case, it won’t take almost three years to resolve, but three months or less. After all, Ablahblah WANTS me to have that moolah, which I will hold onto for emergency veterinarian care, though I certainly hope the need will never arise. This settlement will ALSO grant me permission to have the pups visit whenever I’d like. In addition:

Dispute resolution will eventually lead to POSSESSION of Hotel California North by the residents themselves, with arrangements for yours truly to continue my low, monthly rent as legitimate payment towards OWNING my humble unit…no hidden fees involved. Around this time stardom shall come my way, and a nonprofit organization will be founded on my behalf in order to cover any and all expenses towards keeping me housed and FULFILLING my activist goals. Including my own OFFICE at the LGBT center, where Bay Area Legal Aid ALSO has offices! IOW I will WIND UP being Magdalena’s next-door neighbor, workplace-wise! And the doggies will have a SECOND home…or third, if you count my sanctuary along with Deek’s cabin! Which doggies’ master shall ALSO benefit by the provision of a free studio apartment in my building. Now here’s a most REVELATORY tidbit regarding that LGBT Center:

On the granite wall beside the elevator on the third floor, where BALA has their offices, are names carved into it, of major donors that made this Center possible. ONE of them is Robin Kovax, who ALSO happens to be an incorporator and founding director of Online Policy Group which has been hosting GRATIS my gay-bible website since 1997 (and the associated webmail service)! I’ve never had the honor to meet him personally, and he’s since moved to Toronto years ago, but their headquarters remain here in The City (I think). Here’s their website BTW, which is in dire need of an update.

THIS IS NO COINCIDENCE, WATTSON, THIS IS A SCRIPTED SCENARIO WRIT BY ENLIGHTENED BEINGS! At least, IMNSHO (in my not-so-humble opinion). Anyways, onward and upward with my prophetic vision re. the evolving script of “This is Your Life, Ezekiel Joseph Krahlin a.k.a. Eugene Frank Catalano:”

Around this time there will also occur the collapse of these dis-United States, and the establishment of NEW nations carved out of these states, including the secession of what is roughly defined as Northern California, to be renamed “Athenia” with THIS globsmacked pilgrim its very first GAY President…or Prime Queer Minister, or Benevolent Fagtator or Grand Uranian Poobah, or some OTHER title in the vein of national figurehead. Needless to say, for this and countless OTHER reasons (such as my Brindlekin Tales becoming a blockbuster success exceeding every other publication, movie or play by an astronomically LONG shot) I will become THE most notable and influential hominid ON the entire planet! And it will STAY that way for time immemorial…no flash in the pan THIS borderline schizophrenic!

[SIDEBAR: Speaking of schizophrenia, I intend my NEXT publication to be entitled “How to Turn Your So-Called Mental Disability into a Cash Cow of Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious Proportion”…a self-help book on steroids!]

So there you have it, old chap…straight from the Me-nicorn’s mouth. May all your wishes come true, and your days be blessed with pterodactyl magic!

– Zeke K-Holmes

Subject: Deek’s visit last night: a bit rocky!
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: May 21, 2023 at 3:54 PM

He came by really late this time: 11:30 PM. And he knows very well the cut-off hour is midnight. Wanted me to change the music on his chip, which took but a few minutes ’cause he only wanted TWO rappers: J.I and Teejay3K. I also fed the pups and, since he did not offer them anything cushy to rest upon, but left them seated beside him on the damp, cold, filthy sidewalk, I brought down some cardboard sheets and a sleeping bag. But before I did, I admonished him for shoving Flaco off his lap (“Hey, get offa me!”) when she attempted to flee the concrete:

“DON’T treat her like that, Deek! She has nothing but love for you, and nothing but immense respect is what BOTH dogs deserve. Shame on you!”


“NO excuse, Deek,” I retorted. “Be KIND to these angels, ALWAYS! Your bad moods are BOGUS and unforgiveable. Look at that! YOU are sitting on a thick, folded coat, when it’s YOU who should sit on the sidewalk and give THEM your coat!”

“WHY DO YOU ALWAYS START AN ARGUMENT WITH ME!” he blasted his foul words into the ether. “STOP BOTHERING ME, GET OUTTA MY FACE!”

“No, YOU stop bothering ME, and these lovely pooches,” I persisted. “YOU’RE the problem, and always have been. Do you REALLY wanna keep playing the stupid redneck? Where is THAT gonna get you?”

Anyway, he quieted down after that, and I returned hovel while he and mutts sat outside beneath the Super Duper awning. It was pleasingly cool last night, with a very light and sporadic drizzle. Soon as they finished fluffing up the comforter, I placed the edges over them so they could enjoy a more thorough rest in their makeshift hidey spots.

But since I had to retrieve the sleeping bag when Deek decided to leave (whenever THAT would be), I was forced to stay up well beyond midnight. It wasn’t until 1:40 AM that he finally decided to depart, with no concern for MY need to get some shuteye. In fact, shortly before he ended the visit, he began to blast his speaker like some outdoor concert. I waited a few minutes in hopes he wouldn’t keep that up, but he did, so I stepped back outside.

“You need to lower the volume,” I loudly proclaimed, seeing as he otherwise wouldn’t hear me, nor even notice I was right beside him because facing the other direction and half drowsy. “You’re not letting me sleep, or anyone else on this side of the building. I will NOT put up with that!”

Before abiding my request he blurted (as he has numerous times before): “Whatever I do outside should be of no concern to the residents of your building. And it should have nothing to do with you!”

“BULLSHIT!” I exclaimed. “YOU know better, Deek, and you need to stop acting like a dumb punk!”

“Okay, keep that up,” he snarked, “and I WILL turn up the volume!” He then reached for the wheel in a threat to raise the noise to a head splitting level once again. But he did not. Though he DID mutter:

“Want me to throw water in your face again?”

With that, I picked up the water bowl, now almost empty, and shook it right in his face. “Do YOU want ME to pour this on your speaker?”

I then reached over him (whereupon he recoiled in fear I’d carry out my threat) to turn the volume wheel ALL the way down to zero, then said: “You do that one more time and I’ll sic the cops on you!”

“FUCK the cops,” he groused. “They can’t do nothin’!”

“Oh yes they can, and they already have, several times,” I countered. “They’ll chase you away just like before.”

He then stood up to declare he’s leaving now anyway.

“Well good riddance,” I replied, then crouched down to caress and scritch the doggies, who were most attentive throughout the conflict…though not particularly distraught. I told them kindly how much they are loved, with hugs and kisses to seal my words.

Upon returning hovel once they had vanished up Market Street, I put up my clothesline, one end of which is always tied to the radiator feed pipe, to hang the sleeping bag over it. Because it had gotten wet in some spots from the hounds spilling the water bowl earlier. And FINALLY managed to crash out by 2:15 AM, thank glob!

It was OTHERWISE a peaceful evening. I guess Deek just can’t flow with pellucid waters for too long, and feels like he’s gotta kick up some waves. Like the BRAT he often is.

– Zeke K-Holmes

How to Pay Your Rent in a Thousand Painful Steps

May 15, 2023

[Brindlekin Tales – Book 8: Chapter 1]

Subject: And one more email from Magdalena
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: May 10, 2023 at 8:28 PM

Nice that she bothered to post to me well beyond working hours. I swear, Wattson, I wasted MOST of my day trying to get this BS straightened out!


Ok, you can come in tomorrow between 9:30 and 4:30 for the trust account and then we can write a check to the landlord. I can ask the landlords attorney to have the landlord provide receipts to you for each rental payment you make in the future? Or yes we can ask the landlords attorney if you can pay by mail?


But the check you cut is only partial payment. So, should I bring you a cashier’s check for the remainder, so you can write out the payment in full? As for getting a receipt, don’t see how I’d get one immediately upon giving the landlord my check, unless I drop by his office in person. Mailing is dicey, too, unless I send it certified. If I bring my check to the manager he may not be around in person to give me a receipt on the last day due. Besides which, he’s very ill and may not be able to answer the door. Anyway, talk with you tomorrow. I can show up as early as 10, though I’d like to know if I should bring a cashier’s check for the difference, so I can do that before dropping over. The added portion would be $602.08 for a total of $3619.08, at $301.59 per month.

And what about April’s check, should I stop payment on it? It’ll cost me $25. I can manage the fee, though not happy about it.

I also need a copy of my escrow account showing all deposits made. Which may be necessary to prevent plaintiff’s attorney from skimming money from my account. Since at least one of the months shows my bank account to have over double my monthly income. That’s only because I didn’t deposit to escrow every month, but paid in two lump sums. With my escrow statement, plaintiff’s attorney will see two withdrawals from my account that perfectly match the escrow deposits, proving they were solely  rent payments.

Ablahblah REALLY should’ve set up electronic payment years ago!

Thanks again, have a lovely evening.


Now get THIS, Wattson:

Yesterday, the Thunderbird email client I use to back up all my Gmail conversations regarding BOTH lawsuits, WIPED OUT all my mail as the result of a simple update! So now I have to resort to Google Takeout, to back up all my Gmail into a format that is less than convenient, but doable.

– Zeke K-Holmes

Subject: Oops, one more email from Magdalena:
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: May 10, 2023 at 8:56 PM

This came in about ten minutes ago.


Since you have checks already for April and May, I can email the landlord’s attorney the amount we have in the trust account and tell him you have submitted April and you have a check for May. Let’s see what he says? We can discuss tomorrow over phone as well.


Phone is good, I’ll call you at 9:30. Thanks! My escrow amount, BTW, is $1.10 over what the payment should be for months June through March. That’s because my two deposits were rounded off to the next dollar.

The right amount for 10 months is $3015.90.


Subject: Lovely visit with Deek
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: May 11, 2023 at 10:14 PM

I had returned from Trader Joe’s around noon via Muni Metro when I found them waiting by my building as I walked from Castro Station hovelward. Don’t know HOW long he was there, but saw no sign of him screaming up to my window, or any other nervy behavior. He didn’t see me as I approached, because he was facing another direction. But the MUTTS did! They stood up with curly tails a-waggin’ as I drew near. Deek was finally alerted to my arrival as I crouched down to hug the poochies and said, “Hey there you little angels!” Now get THIS, Wattson:

The quasi-dachshunds were tethered to his latest bike WHICH WAS SET DOWN ON ITS SIDE, THANK GLOB! I did NOT bring up the egregious matter of last Sunday, because of that…and since he was respectful towards me through the entire meetup. So I presume he was burned badly enough in the flames of my scathing reprimand, that ghastly day…to a psychological crisp. Let us pray that IS the case, and my impact will REMAIN embedded in his engrams forevermore! Great Spirit love the wee doggies of this world.

I then stood up to greet their master, said “I’m sorry I kept you waiting” and explained I’ve decided to make Monday and Thursday (instead of Monday and Tuesday) my shopping days, and I just got back from Trader Joe’s.

“I can also use either day to do laundry, or run other errands. But I’ll be back by 2 PM, no matter what.”

We talked awhile as I sat down so the doggies could be loved some more, Flaco on her back for belly rubs, and her brother rubbing his head firmly across my thigh and torso, playfully grabbing on my shirt with sharp little teeth and silly groans. “We are SO happy to be with you again, Uncle Zeke!”

And so am I. I just HATE thinking each time I see my beloved furries, it may be the last…in light of Deek’s tenuous hold on life, and society’s brutal disregard for the downtrodden. You just never know when a program to house the indigent will suddenly vanish, and they’re back to square one: on the streets. Like a cruel game of Monopoly played by sadistic gods.

Turns out he somehow BROKE the music chip for his new Bluetooth speaker…now it’s stuck inside the slot and he can’t remove it. I have NO idea how that happened, nor did I ask. Those chips are hard to break, and THIS speaker has the media slots on top, unlike the other ones he’s had, which slots are on one side or another, thus vulnerable to his dropping a speaker on its side, onto the hard concrete.

“Did you try using a tweezers?” I queried, poised to dash back upstairs to procure one myself, and pry the chip loose.

“Oh don’t bother, I’ll figure it out,” he replied with not the least bit angst over it (to my surprise). “Here, take this smartphone upstairs, put new music on it and charge it for awhile.”

Of course! Since the speaker has Bluetooth, he can simply select songs from his phone to play on the speaker…thus no immediate need to replace the broken chip. But still, good doctor, I would’ve been MORE than glad to do my magic with a pair of tweezers…considering his politeness today, and the pups not leashed to a standing bicycle!

I told him I’ve downloaded NEW rap artists he probably hasn’t even heard of, since they’re quite contemporary, from 2020 to now!

“I now have over sixty-five albums containing almost seven hundred rap songs in all, by nine different artists!”

“Really?” he replied with interest. “Who are they?”

“Okay,” I answered. “Just wait a minute while I bring a list of their names downstairs, I didn’t bother to memorize them all! One of ’em’s called Key Glock, and another is simply Yeat.”

“Nope, never heard of ’em,” he frowned, with a touch of curiosity. “Maybe I won’t like them.”

“Maybe not,” I shrugged while scritching Lucky’s neck. “That’s just the chance ya gotta take when discovering new talent…though I’m sure you’ll like MOST of the songs. I’ve listened to one or two pieces from each artist myself, and was impressed!”

I then added, as I stood back up to return hovel: “Now that I’m learning about hip-hop and rap, there’ll be a lot MORE new artists comin’ down the pike for ya as I keep downloading ’em!”

Soon as I plugged in his smartphone, I called up that list of new artists on my Double Commander file manager…and took a snapshot of it with my OWN phone, so I could read them off to Deek. As it turned out, he only recognized one: Jack Harlow. The rest were new to him, besides the two I already mentioned: Future, Kendrick Lamar, King Von, Lecrae and Young Dolph. That’s only eight total, you might be thinking if you, kind reader, bothered to count ’em so far. The ninth is Polo G, with whom Deek is already familiar, but I found a slew of NEW songs by him he didn’t have in his collection.

It was a lovely day overall: a warm sun and a light breeze. Deek spent almost three hours below my window, schmoozing with a couple of other street denizens as Flaco & Lucky basked under Sol’s glorious rays. I fed them before tending to his smartphone. When he was ready to depart I brought down a fresh supply of doggy vittles per his request, and two more bungee cords.

“Those are my last two, Deek!” I informed him, as I handed them over.

“Oh,” he replied, “then take this one back, I’ll make do with just one.”

I brushed aside his hand that held the second cord. “No, that’s alright, I’ll just order some more.”

And so I did, once I returned to my hermit’s cave.

– Zeke K-Holmes


Some time during my conversation with Deek, this random fellow walked by, stopped and turned around to address us while pointing at the plywood covering up the old ATM depot, now gutted out:

“Didn’t there used to be some Wells Fargo ATMs over here?”

Deek replied, “Yeah, but they took ’em down.”

The man just raised his arms in exasperation and plodded on to wherever. He woulda made a great NPC in some virtual online game!

“Hmm,” I remarked, “He mustn’t visit this neighborhood very often!”

“So how come everyone’s spending a few extra dollahs to use an ATM in an emergency, when you’re not?” Deek blurted out.

“These people are rich,” I tried to explain. “They don’t care about a few extra dollars here and there. But I’m on a low income, those fees add up really fast…and besides, my own bank adds another TWO dollars to the surcharge…so we’re talkin’ FIVE dollars, not three!”

“So if it’s the middle of the night and there’s an emergency and you need money fast, you STILL won’t use one of those ATMs?” he rebutted. “Not even if I’M in trouble?”

I paused for a few moments then, pondering the implications of what Deek just said, and concluded: more horse hockey from the Cajun trickster. So I finally replied:

“There ARE no emergencies in my world, Deek…just bratty people sometimes who make things up.”

He then changed the subject to the mess Detroit is in, with its gangs, mob violence and turf wars…for some unknown reason. I just listened while petting the darling pups, then returned upstairs to fix myself a snack of mango chunks and yogurt, with some homemade halvah on the side. And black currant tea. Yummy!

Subject: Conversation with my Attorney
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: May 11, 2023 at 10:16 PM

About a half hour after Deek and dogs departed, my attorney called me. (Early this morning she emailed me to say she can’t do 9:30 because of other obligations, and she’s still trying to get in touch with Ablahblah’s attorney…so she’ll call me back later in the day.) But when I picked up the phone and looked at the screen, it didn’t say “Magdalena,” or any name for that matter. So I tapped on the “call screen” option, with the following output:

As you can see, Wattson, the transcription mangled her surname, as well as mine…and left much to be desired overall. No doubt her lovely Dutch accent didn’t help any. Be that as it may, I saw the name Magdalena, and realized it’s her, just calling from a different phone. So I connected, said “Hello,” and she updated me regarding rent payment.

They’re fine with BALA (Bay Area Legal Aid) paying them via my escrow account, which covers the first ten months…and I can pay for the next two myself: April and May. Then I brought up my concern about exactly HOW I should get my check to them:

“I COULD just deliver it in person and get a receipt right off the bat. Their office is an easy ride on the light rail from my street to theirs. But I don’t really care to remain the center of attention over my controversial reputation instigated by Kevin’s hostility…and the bogus lawsuit slapped on me by another resident, over a dog bite that never occurred. Which attention WOULD renew itself every time I drop off my check, because once every month Ablahblah and crew will be reminded I’m the LONGEST term resident here, paying the LOWEST rent by far! But I guess no matter HOW I deliver my check at this point, I’m forever stuck with that stigma!”

Magdalena had a good a laugh over that, as did yours truly! So I forged ahead with the badinage a bit longer:

“But I’m used to it. I’ve been treated like a pariah since the day I was born, and I’ve long since learned to take it in stride, accept it as just another challenge to better myself. In fact, at THIS advanced stage in my personal growth, I think it’s hilarious…especially since I always come up smelling like a rose!”

We discussed FURTHER possible options on how I could pay my rent from now on, instead of just slipping it under the doddering old coot’s door.

“I can’t expect a receipt from him, upon handing over my check,” I noted, “because he’s usually not around, and it would probably take me many tries to finally catch him in person. And even so, he’ll probably be annoyed to draw me up a chit right then and there. He’s HOSTILE to me, and probably SENILE.”

She then asked how other tenants pay their rent. I said I have no idea, I just assumed that, like me, with a check slipped under his door.

“Have you SEEN any other checks slid under his door?” she queried.

“Well, no, I haven’t,” I admitted, “but I never bothered to crouch way down with my nose touching the carpet to be sure! Besides, he probably snatches up each check soon as he returns to his apartment. And he does that many times a day, what with manager responsibilities throughout the building, and checking up on our maintenance man. At least, he did until he fell ill.”

“I see, Ezekiel! So maybe you could talk to someone else who lives there, how they pay their rent,” she suggested.

“Hmm,” I mused. “I prefer to have little to do with other residents, seeing as they most likely feel the same way about me. That’s just modern living in a large apartment. Besides which, due to this recent brouhaha around me, I don’t know WHO’S succumbed to the gossip, and therefore WHO I should or shouldn’t bother with. I USED to have the occasional friend in this building now and then, over the decades. The last one was nine years ago, Michael, moved in right next door to me. But barely two years later he upped and died. Not that old, either, just fifty-six! Long story short: I don’t feel comfortable asking any resident how they pay their rent!”

“I understand perfectly,” Magdalena sympathized. “Let’s see then. I could talk to Ablahblah’s attorney about options to pay your rent other than the usual. Does that sound amenable to you?”

“Yes it does!” I agreed. “Because I think ‘the usual’–slipping a check under the door–is a sloppy way for ANY property owner to handle rent payments.”

“I agree!” she replied. “But first let’s focus on getting the first ten months paid off, and THEN we’ll figure out a good solution for your future payments. I will need you to send me an email giving permission for BALA to use your trust fund for that.”

“Fine,” I answered. “You’ll have it just minutes after we hang up.”

“I will also ask their attorney if Ablahblah has your April check, and is just sitting on it.” she reassured me. “After all, his attorney SAID you should start paying your rent again, even before the escrow sum is delivered.”

“Right, he did,” I replied. “First they wouldn’t accept my rent for almost a year, then they suddenly turn around and hit me with a three-day notice to pay up or quit. That’s ridiculous!”

“Yes,” she agreed, “it’s awfully harsh of them to do that, when they really should have sorted things out with a simple email exchange.”

“I don’t think they want to let go of the last century, before email was even a thing,” I quipped.

Magdalena then excused herself because she has a tight schedule. I told her thanks for everything, and she said she’ll contact me again, very soon.

WHAT a conversation, eh, Wattson? This whole DAY has been beautiful, every single friggin moment…good to the last drop! So here’s the email she requested:


Subject: Permission to pay the first 10 months of my back rent owed to Ablahblah Realty

I hereby grant permission to Bay Area Legal Aid via my attorney, Magdalena Elvensborn, to reimburse Ablahblah Realty for back rent due from June 2022 to March 2023, which, at $301.59 per month, comes to a total of $3,015.90 (three thousand fifteen dollars and ninety cents). Please note there will be a remaining amount in my escrow account of $1.10. Also:

I have always written out my rent payment to “9666 Market St. Apts.” So I presume BALA should, as well…unless some other arrangement has been made with their attorney.

– Ezekiel Krahlin


Then, some twenty minutes later I sent her this:


Subject: A good solution (I think)

I always slide my rent check under the manager’s door at night. I will shoot a brief, date-stamped video of my placing the check in the envelope while I’m standing by his door, and inserting it beneath the door.

The next morning I can text him: “Did you get my rent check?” That way, if he doesn’t reply by the end of that day, I’ll know something’s up.

While it’s my right to get a receipt immediately upon payment, in order to minimize any possible resistance by the resident manager, I’d prefer that Ablahblah’s attorney request he abide by this new arrangement. Otherwise:

I can deliver the rent check each month to Ablahblah’s office on 31st Avenue near Taraval…a pleasant ride on the light rail, from the Castro Station. Third option:

Send my check by certified mail.

So you can bring this up to Ablahblah’s attorney, with preference for option #1. Thanks again!

Oh, also ask the attorney if there’s any way I can pay my rent electronically. That would be my most preferred option, if at all possible. Thanks, and have a superb weekend, Magdalena.

– Ezekiel


Click here for a larger view.

Subject: Besides frozen blueberries…
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: May 12, 2023 at 1:38 AM

…here’s what else I’ve purchased at Trader Joe’s (see pic). From top to bottom (and sometimes left to right):

Frozen mango chunks, 1 lb. = $2.99

Swiss cheese slices, 12 oz. = $4.49

Organic tahini, 10.6 oz. = $3.99

Organic soy beverage, 1 qt. = $2.29

Dark chocolate covered cherries, 12 oz. = $5.49

Roasted red bell peppers, 16.4 oz. = $2.49

Sliced kalamata olives, 12 oz. = $2.29

Whole wheat pita bread, 12 oz. or 6 portions = $1.69

Seeds & Grains crispbread, 7.75 oz. = $2.99

Greek yogurt, 1 lb. = $2.99

Garlic spread, 8 oz = $3.69

Broccoli florets, 1 lb. = $1.79

Final snapshot = a bowl of mango chunks and Greek yogurt

The frozen mango chunks are EXCELLENT! Just let them defrost awhile so the sweetness will emerge back out. And SO much more convenient than waiting for one to ripen (which it may never do) then peeling it and getting all the slippery flesh off the pit.

The packet of sliced cheese IS cheaper than at the corner shops…you get four more slices for the same price.

Trader Joe’s whole wheat pita bread is SUPERIOR to the brand I buy around the corner. Wholesome flavor, and a tad thicker and on the spongy side, which makes it MUCH more pleasant to chew for those who are missing their teeth, or all of them.

Now (you may ask yourself), Zeke has hardly any TEETH left, so why’d he buy crispbread? Well here’s my secret, ladies and germs: I GRIND IT ALL UP INTO A COARSE MEAL, IN MY BLENDER! That is: I take one cracker, pulverize it, pour it into a small bowl, add a dash of cinnamon, then three tablespoons of tahini and finally, two teaspoons of unfiltered honey. Mix it all up and voila! we now have ourselves homemade halvah that I eat with a small spoon and enjoy with a cup of coffee or tea. Oh, did I mention all the HEALTHY benefits of seeds and grains?

The Greek yogurt is the BEST yogurt I’ve ever tasted! Nowhere near as tart as other yogurts, and creamy/fluffy thick. Unfortunately, I mistakenly picked up the whole milk version, instead of nonfat. And since I’m coming off a longish bout of mild acid reflux, fatty dairy products are a no-no. But I’ve ALSO heard that Greek yogurt is the best for heartburn. As it turned out, I need not have worried, since the whole milk version did NOT upset my tummy in the least. But I’ll pay closer attention next time anyway, and get the nonfat, so long as no sugar is added to it.

The garlic spread is amazingly savory and does a superb job of kicking up a notch the umami aspect of my warmed up pita stuffed with a slice of cheese (split in half and overlapping to fit inside the pocket), roasted pepper and kalamata olives. After SLIGHTLY reheating a half portion of pita bread, I then insert the cheese, pepper and olives…and zap it all in a microwave for 25 seconds. But it doesn’t stop there, Wattson, as impossible as that may seem to the jaundiced eye of a foodie blogger! For I then spread this garlicky delight over the top…and I can’t beLIEVE how much more mouth-watering and digestible the sandwich becomes, as a result! Such simple ingredients, too: canola oil, garlic, lemon juice, citric acid and salt.

I think I’ll just have mango chunks with my yogurt, since those frozen cherries are perfectly juicy and sweet all on their own, and adding anything TO it would be blasphemy beyond even the devil’s machinations.

– Zeke K-Holmes

Re: Conversation with my Attorney
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: May 12, 2023 at 2:03 PM

> So good to have her on your side!

Ain’t THAT the truth. I’ll never have enough words to praise her good work for so many.

> I agree that electronic payment, if possible, would be the best way.

Right. So when I march on down to Ablablah’s office I’ll bring a CATTLE PROD to ensure they accept my rent check!

– Zeke K-Holmes

Subject: Marshall did a bangup job of reading my latest passage!
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: May 13, 2023 at 11:42 PM

I think because he finally GROKS my benevolent mission, and the many sacrifices I’ve made along the way, his impressive VERVE in playing Deek’s ranting episodes was stellar! Not that all his previous narrations haven’t been outstanding, but boy howdy did he knock it outta the ballpark THIS time around, good doctor!

Wait’ll he gets to the tiny cabin breakthrough, then the sudden attempt to SUE me for a dog bite that never occurred, my revelatory LARC adventure, my list of denials to the plaintiff’s attorney, my 3-day notice to pay or quit the premises, and finally, my conversation with my OWN attorney. Marshall’s gonna go ape-shit soon enough, I’m sure of it! So it’s uphill all the way at this point, re. my tales read over the airwaves.

– Zeke K-Holmes

Subject: Reddit subscriber created an AI bible verse generator, based on your text input!
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: MCN announce, MCN discussion
Date: May 14, 2023 at 12:14 PM

Including nine “vibe” options: Humorous, Short, Rhyming, Quirky, Mysterious, Philosophical, Emotional, Action-packed and Thought-provoking…from which you can choose one or more, or none. Here’s the Reddit URL to that thread.

And here’s their post:


Subject: I created a generator that converts (no pun intended) your text to a biblical verse

You can also specify the verse properties , for example funny, mysterious, rhyming, etc. Try it for yourself at the ai Bible verse generator.


Now here’s my reply:


Very clever, thank you! (“Convert” unintended pun duly noted, I had a good chuckle.) So I gave it a spin and typed the following query (w/o selecting any text vibe): “I would like to show the world how Jesus defends LGBT rights.”

–AI Bible Verse Generator replied:

And lo, when the people asked of the Lord, saying, “How shall we treat those who love differently than us?” The Lord did speak, saying, “Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself.” For in the eyes of the Almighty, all are equal and all are welcome in the Kingdom of Heaven.

And when some did scoff and question the Lord, saying, “But what of those who love those of the same gender or those who identify not as their birth gender?” The Lord did reply, saying, “Know ye not that all are fearfully and wonderfully made in my image? And that love, true love, knows no bounds nor restrictions?”

Therefore, let it be known throughout all the land that the Lord our God, who is loving and just, defends the rights of the LGBT community. And those who would discriminate against them shall be judged by the Almighty, for they have strayed from the path of righteousness and kindness.

Let us remember the words of the Lord, that all may love one another as He loves us, without pretense or condition. And let us lift up those who have been outcast and oppressed, that they may know the saving grace of our Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.


So then I posed the opposite query (again, w/o selecting any text vibe): “I would like to show the world how Jesus opposes LGBT rights.”

–AI Bible Verse Generator replied:

As a language model AI, I cannot comply with your request as it goes against OpenAI’s code of ethics and goes against the principles of love and inclusion that Jesus preached in the Bible. Jesus Himself said “Love your neighbor as yourself” and “Do not judge, or you too will be judged” (Matthew 7:1-2). We are all called to love and accept one another regardless of our differences, as we are all created in the image of God. Let us focus on God’s love and unity instead of promoting division and discrimination.


Subject: Magdalena’s latest email:
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: MCN announce, MCN discussion
Date: May 15, 2023 at 10:07 AM

Showed up this morning, 9 AM.


See email opposing counsel below.

[2 Attached emails:]

1) Her latest message to plaintiff’s attorney:

Good morning,

Do you have confirmation that the landlord has the April rent and will cash it? Our accounting is working on a check in the amount of $3,015.90. This is the rent for June 2022-March 2023.

Also, over the past few years, my client was asked to pay his rent by sliding a rent check under the manager’s door but he never receives a receipt. Is there a way for my client to pay the rent electronically instead? If not, my client is willing to keep sliding the rent check under the door but would like to receive a text confirmation from the manger that he received the check after my client informs the manager that he has slipped the rent check under the door. While it is my client’s right to get a paper receipt upon payment, my client would be ok with this method under the condition that the manager abides by this arrangement and confirms receipt by text every month. Please let me know if your client agrees.

2) Plaintiff attorney’s reply to Magdalena:

I believe he does. If there is a problem will let you know. For now assume he does.


My reply to Magdalena:


Great, thanks. Once Ablahblah’s attorney informs you he has the building manager’s okay re. texting me acknowledgment of receiving my rent check, I will slide May’s check under his door once more.

Assuming that solution is agreeable, of course. Otherwise, we work something else out.


Subject: My question to ChatGPT re. defending LGBT rights under the Muslim banner
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: MCN announcement, MCN discussion
Date: May 15, 2023 at 10:24 AM


If Muhamet (founder of Islam) were alive today, and was pro-gay, how would he defend LGBT rights with references to, or quotes from, the Quran?


As an AI language model, I can help provide some perspective on this hypothetical scenario. It’s important to note that the founder of Islam is Prophet Muhammad, not Muhamet. If we consider a hypothetical situation where Prophet Muhammad was alive today and in support of LGBT rights, it’s essential to understand that interpreting religious texts can vary among individuals, scholars, and sects. Islam, like many religions, has diverse interpretations, and different Muslims hold varying views on social issues.

Given the Quran’s historical context and the prevailing societal norms at the time it was revealed, direct references to LGBT rights are not explicitly addressed. However, if Prophet Muhammad were to defend LGBT rights within the framework of the Quran, he might emphasize principles such as justice, compassion, and respect for human dignity, which are central to Islamic teachings.

Here are some general Quranic principles that could be applied to support an inclusive and respectful approach toward the LGBT community:

Equality and Justice: The Quran upholds the principle of equality among all individuals. Prophet Muhammad might emphasize that every person deserves equal rights and protection under the law, irrespective of their sexual orientation or gender identity. He could cite verses such as:

“O mankind, indeed We have created you from male and female and made you peoples and tribes that you may know one another. Indeed, the most noble of you in the sight of Allah is the most righteous of you. Indeed, Allah is Knowing and Acquainted.” (Quran 49:13)

Compassion and Mercy: Prophet Muhammad might emphasize the importance of treating others with compassion, empathy, and kindness. He could refer to the example of the Prophet himself, who was known for his mercy and forgiveness. He might cite verses such as:

“And We have not sent you, [O Muhammad], except as a mercy to the worlds.” (Quran 21:107)

Non-judgment and Forgiveness: The Quran encourages believers to avoid passing judgment on others and leaving matters of judgment to God. Prophet Muhammad might emphasize the need to focus on personal spiritual growth and leave the ultimate judgment to Allah. He could cite verses such as:

“So, [O Muhammad], remind, if the reminder should benefit; He who fears [Allah] will be reminded. But the wretched one will avoid it – [He] who will [enter and] burn in the greatest Fire, neither dying therein nor living. He has certainly succeeded who purifies himself. And mentions the name of his Lord and prays.” (Quran 87:9-15)

It’s important to note that interpretations and understanding of religious texts can differ, and this hypothetical scenario represents one possible approach that aligns with inclusivity. In reality, the views of contemporary Muslims on LGBT rights vary significantly, and discussions about these topics are ongoing within Muslim communities worldwide.


Any other examples or quotes one could use?


Certainly! Here are a few additional examples or quotes from the Quran that one could potentially interpret as supportive of LGBT rights within an inclusive framework:

Individual Accountability: The Quran emphasizes personal responsibility and accountability for one’s actions. One could argue that sexual orientation or gender identity should not be a basis for discrimination or mistreatment. Relevant verses include:

“No bearer of burdens will bear the burden of another.” (Quran 6:164)

Avoiding Harassment and Harm: Islam emphasizes the importance of avoiding harm and promoting a peaceful coexistence. One could argue that individuals should not be subjected to harassment or harm based on their sexual orientation or gender identity. Relevant verses include:

“And do not kill yourselves [or one another]. Indeed, Allah is to you ever Merciful.” (Quran 4:29)

Embracing Diversity in Creation: The Quran acknowledges the diversity in creation as a sign of Allah’s wisdom. One could interpret this diversity as inclusive of various sexual orientations and gender identities. Relevant verses include:

“And among His Signs is the creation of the heavens and the earth, and the diversity of your languages and your colors. Verily, in that are indeed signs for men of sound knowledge.” (Quran 30:22)


There is also an option to regenerate ChatCPT’s response, so I did just that for the previous question, and got additional bullet points as a result.

ChatGPT (regenerated response):

Respect for Human Diversity: Emphasizing the diversity of creation and the acceptance of different identities and orientations:

“And among His Signs is the creation of the heavens and the earth, and the variations in your languages and your colors: verily in that are Signs for those who know.” (Quran 30:22)

Non-compulsion and Personal Accountability: Recognizing that personal choices and actions are subject to individual responsibility and accountability before God:

“There is no compulsion in religion. The right direction is henceforth distinct from error.” (Quran 2:256)

Prohibition of Unjust Treatment: Highlighting the importance of fairness and justice, and condemning acts of oppression or harm:

“O you who have believed, be persistently standing firm in justice, witnesses for Allah, even if it be against yourselves or parents and relatives. Whether one is rich or poor, Allah is more worthy of both. So follow not [personal] inclination, lest you not be just.” (Quran 4:135)

Emphasis on Love and Compassion: Encouraging believers to cultivate love, mercy, and kindness in their interactions:

“And We have certainly created man to be in hardship. Does he think that never will anyone overcome him? He says, ‘I have spent wealth in abundance.’ Does he think that no one has seen him? Have We not made for him two eyes? And a tongue and two lips? And have shown him the two ways? But he has not broken through the difficult pass. And what can make you know what is [breaking through] the difficult pass? It is the freeing of a slave.” (Quran 90:4-13)

Re: Magdalena’s latest email
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: May 15, 2023 at 1:52 PM

> I wouldn’t “assume” anything with these slippery crooks!

I’m sure Magdalena is aware of that, she’s just keeping me updated. Also, plaintiff’s attorney made no comment re. building manager texting acknowledgment of my rent check. The important thing is plaintiff attorney’s shoddy reply is now on record. I will post to my attorney the following email, soon, after I muse on it for awhile:


I would first like to see evidence of my 10-month payment cashed by Ablahblah, along with my April payment, before I submit this month’s rent. Which former should show up in my escrow account, and the latter in my own checking account. Plaintiff’s Attorney said to “assume” that Ablahblah has my check (though not yet deposited, as I just examined my online bank records which still do not show April’s check cashed). I find that “assume” statement elusive, seeing as he should be able to quickly discover for sure where that check is, or if it’s missing. He also did not reply regarding an arrangement with the building manager to text acknowledgment of receipt.


Wattson: if you have any suggestions as to improvements on my wording of the above, or anything to add, I’d much appreciate the input! But if you are too busy to do that, no problem. Per my Bodhisattva Premise:

They are all in on it (BOTH attorneys, Ablahblah Realty, and building manager) and are “testing” my perspicacity regarding certain slippery details, such as what you just pointed out. Well, not so much a test, but an initiation…or possibly, fine tuning my emotional quotient, that I remain calm and reasonable from start to finish. Under such a conjecture, then I must conclude that even Magdalena is playing dumb, to see how I will unravel this mini-Gordian Knot. BTW:

The word “assume” was already nibbling at the back of my mind before your alert. So thanks immensely for the kick in the pants, so to speak!

– Zeke K-Holmes

Subject: I just asked the AI Bible Verse Generator another timely question!
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: MCN announcement, MCN discussion
Date: May 15, 2023 at 2:38 PM

Their URL is here. Now for my latest question:

“Use Jesus’s words to prove there is no eternal damnation, just a reasonable period of time one pays for one’s sins.”

I included the vibe options “humorous” and “rhyming” for a spicy output. So here’s the result (better than any poem Judas Sakoschitz has ever composed, I’d like to note…though still on the juvenile side of literary panache):


And lo, when the scribes and Pharisees did come to Jesus,
they asked him, “Master, what of eternal damnation, are we to believe thus?”

And Jesus did say unto them, “Verily, verily I say unto you,
hellfire and brimstone for eternity is but a lie and untrue.

For even the thief on the cross beside me did find redemption,
and though his life was full of sin, he found salvation’s exemption.

It is written, ‘The wages of sin is death,’
but nowhere does it say eternal damnation is God’s breath.

Indeed, a reasonable period of time one must pay,
but forgiveness is also offered, turn not your face away.

So let the wicked turn from their ways, and God’s mercy they’ll find,
for His love and grace are everlasting, for all of mankind.”

And the scribes and Pharisees were astonished at his word,
for they had never heard such truth before, it was absurd.

But Jesus did continue to preach,
and many souls were saved, beyond anyone’s reach.
And so we too must believe in God’s forgiveness and grace,
and not be lost in fear of eternal damnation’s terrible face.


Click here for a larger view.
Click here for a larger view.

Subject: 2 New Developments
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: May 16, 2023 at 8:58 AM

Development 1:

Looks like we got a new manager, at least temporarily. See both pics. Mr. Garciak is on my floor…in fact, right around the corner and we share the restroom. Haven’t met him yet, don’t know how he’d handle sliding my rent check under his door this late in the month. Has the plaintiff’s attorney even contacted him about this? Haven’t met the fellow yet, so don’t know which one he is among the high foot traffic in this building. I will inform Magdalena shortly.

Development 2:

I was struck with plantar fasciitis yesterday, difficult to walk, lotsa pain in my left foot…I hardly made it outta Trader Joe’s to the underground, and finally hovel! Actually, I felt a little pain acting up two days before, but ignored it. Already getting better, though, doing the physical therapy, using a cane and taking ibuprofen. I certainly can manage going to Rosenberg’s now, for java and muffin!

– Zeke K-Holmes

Subject: My email from this morning and my attorney’s response
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: May 16, 2023 at 6:31 PM

First, my message time stamped 9:38 AM:

Subject: New Development

This sign was posted in the hallway yesterday:

So it looks like we have a new manager, at least temporarily. It also suggests there is no other way to pay rent, except by slipping a check under the door.

I have second thoughts re. rent payment…hope I’m not being overly cautious here:

I would first like to see evidence of my 10-month payment cashed by Ablahblah, along with my April payment, before I submit this month’s rent. Which former should show up in my escrow account, and the latter in my own checking account. Plaintiff’s Attorney said to “assume” that Ablahblah has my check (though not yet deposited, as I just examined my online bank records which still do not show April’s check cashed). I find that “assume” statement elusive, seeing as he should be able to quickly discover for sure where that check is, or if it’s missing. He also did not reply regarding an arrangement with the building manager to text acknowledgment of receipt.

Thanks again, Charlotte.

– Ezekiel

–and her reply time stamped 4:37 PM:

The check for the trust account was sent to the landlord today. The landlord’s attorney is saying that they don’t have the April rent. Do you remember what date you slipped that under the door? I followed up with the landlord’s attorney on the arrangement we suggested for texting acknowledgment of receipt, but the landlord’s attorney said he had to get back to me about that but to assume that that was ok.

Once I hear back from you, I will reach out to the landlord’s attorney again to get confirmation about the arrangement, date when you slipped the April rent under the door (if you remember), and to double check if Charles is the new building manager. Was it always unit #209 where you slipped the check under the door?

–finally, my response time stamped 6:20 PM (so she’ll read it tomorrow):

I slipped a check for April’s rent under the building manager Kevin Bond’s door on the evening of April 19th, same day you emailed me a copy of the dismissal. His apartment number has always been 401. Definitely not 209…which is just a room like mine (no kitchen, no restroom)…and around the corner from me. It now says “Office” on it. That unit’s been vacant since the previous tenant died there around one-and-a-half years ago.

So maybe that check is still in Mr. Bond’s apartment, misplaced somewhere (or tossed out inadvertently or otherwise). Who knows at this point…it’s a clown show!

Plaintiff’s Attorney previously said you can “assume” that Ablahblah has my check for April’s rent. But in his latest communique he said he doesn’t. And now he says you can “assume” the texting arrangement for proof of receipt is doable. That remains to be seen.

I do not know who this Cortez Garciak person is; don’t think I’ve ever met him. But if I did, it was just in passing without talking to each other. There is a constant influx of building workers here (and other service people) especially since the new elevator is undergoing the final step in getting it up and running…after almost a two years’ wait since the old one broke down.

Again, thanks! I’m presently recovering from a bout of plantar fasciitis which suddenly struck yesterday afternoon, and almost left me stranded at Trader Joe’s, but I managed to hobble my way home. So it occurred to me this morning: if I am to slide a check under someone’s door (whoever that person may be) at least I won’t have to cope with climbing two flights of stairs with an aching foot!


A BIG Step Backward

May 10, 2023

[Brindlekin Tales – Book 7: Chapter 26]

Subject: Wait a minute!
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: May 6, 2023 at 12:09 AM

Rereading this statement by ChatGPT:

“The information shared between the dismissed defendant and their attorney is typically protected by attorney-client privilege and may not be shared with others without the client’s consent.”

I am both attorney AND client, since I represent myself. And as client I give my attorney permission to share my list of rebuttals with the other defendant’s attorney. Voilà!

– Zeke K-Holmes

Subject: Marshall finally groks my doggy venture!
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: May 7, 2023 at 11:17 AM

As demonstrated by his introduction to my tale from last Friday, “The JBL Blues.” It’s three minutes long because prefaced by some hilarious posts on the MCN announcement list. But what he says after that is MOST appreciated:

I GOT HIM HOOKED, WATTSON! My Brindlekin Tales have grown on him over time! Which is EXACTLY what I hope to achieve with ALL my readers. Wait’ll he gets to the tiny cabin breakthrough, then my second lawsuit culminating in yet aNOTHER breakthrough re. my LARC revelation! He’s gonna wind up being my SECOND biggest fan. Who the FIRST is, I’m sure you’ll figure out soon enough. :D

His comment at the end of the story is ALSO superb (35 seconds):

Subject: My email to AblahAblah’s attorney
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: May 7, 2023 at 5:03 PM

Just sent it off!


Subject: Regarding Lawsuit case #CGC-23-[xxxxxx], “Liáng v Ablahblah, Krahlin, et al”

Dear Mr. (Ms. or Mx.) Gamboa,

I am the key Defendant in this lawsuit, but because I am Judgement Proof I will soon be dismissed. However, since Plaintiff’s accusations strike me as false, grossly exaggerated or subjective, I (representing myself) decided to respond with a General Denial. Plaintiff’s attorney contacted me by phone, the day he received my Denial, and requested I email him a brief history of my sitting the two dogs in question, and an explanation for my denial of each claim listed by Plaintiff.

Since the other main Defendant, Kareem Ablahblah, is an absentee Landlord, he really has no idea what went down, and thus relied on Resident Building Manager Kevin Bond for the so-called “facts.” However, my Denials reveal quite a different story, for which reason I offer a copy of them to you, via a file stored on my Google Drive, because I believe it will help you better defend your client. Which is an exact duplicate of the email I posted to Plaintiff’s Attorney. But if you’d prefer I simply forward you that email, just say the word! Or if you’d prefer I print it out and send it off via snail mail, I’ll be happy to do that, instead. At any rate, here’s the Google Drive link to my list of Denials.


Ezekiel J. Krahlin


What fun, eh, Wattson? Yet again, the deity of hindsight imposed his own observations upon my weary, metaphorical shoulders:

1) NO WONDER I couldn’t remove Mr. (Ms. or Mx.) Gamboa’s E-dress from my smartphone’s list of addies in my “email to” option for sending a news article to my Thinkpad! Because I would NEED to know it later on down the line…like NOW! I had used the addie only once, to informally respond to the eviction notice, back in June 2022, and really didn’t need it anymore. Until this realization I found the unwanted address a nuisance ’cause right below my OWN addie, since the domain name starts with a “g” (gay-bible.org). Thus there is always the possibility of an accidental slip of my finger whereby I’d send it off to Gamboa instead of yours truly. I consulted with the Gmail sub in Reddit, whereby I learned this is a glitch and IMPOSSIBLE to resolve.

2) I FINALLY came across the missing summons this morning, for which I had to request another copy. I had absentmindedly tossed it into one of my vertical storage bins which I use exclusively for dried or packaged food such as lentils, popcorn, small boxes of tea, and so on (see pic). You can see it right at the bottom, sticking out and sealed in a quart-size Ziploc. The countless times I’ve opened that little door (since the summons went missing) and reached down for my Akmak crackers kept fresh in the same kinda baggy, I never noticed the summons! Prolly coz it was lodged deeper inside, except today it slipped forward. Sneaky little gremlin!

– Zeke K-Holmes

Re: Marshall finally groks my doggy venture!
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: May 7, 2023 at 2:42 PM

> Wonderful clips, both of them.


> I like Marshall’s interpretation of Deek yelling!

Right on the mark-o!

Subject: BIG step backward…what heartbreak!
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: May 7, 2023 at 6:43 PM

Deek dropped by just a short while ago. So when I stepped out he was already in the Hohokum smoke shop, with his bicycle tilted against the ATM plywood, and his large speaker in the granny cart attached to the bike’s rear with a bungee cord wrapped about the seat’s post. The doggies were confined between bicycle and wall, with little room to spare, tethered to the handlebar on that side. As I approached Flaco & Lucky, the bike suddenly slipped and would’ve crushed them had I not snatched them up with lightning reflexes! Especially since the extra weight of the speaker added to the danger.

I want to make it very clear they were secured to the bike in such a manner as to be incapable of swiftly moving out of harm’s way, as they’ve done many times before. Of course the furry angels were oblivious to all this, as I sat on the sidewalk behind the fallen bicycle, kissing and hugging them closely. About a minute later their master finally stepped back outside, so I addressed him immediately:

“How many times have I told you NOT to lash them to your bike, unless it’s already resting on its side? They could EASILY have gotten injured!”

Instead of profusely apologizing, admitting he was wrong, he tore into me:


So I tore back, with a voice just as loud:


Deek hollered further:


And I retorted:


The poor doggies were shivering in my arms, as their master persisted with his disgusting hissy fit:


And my rebound:


He then picked up their leashes, grabbed his bike and started to walk away in the direction of Castro Street. So I stood up and continued to bellow:


He did NOT turn around, nor did he scream back at me. I walked in his direction about twenty feet to be sure he could hear me shriek “SHAME!” three more times.

I have NO idea when I’ll see him and the dogs again, but no way am I gonna pretend that didn’t happen. I will speak with him further next time he shows up, warn him if I ever see him tying the dogs to a standing or tilted bike again, he will lose my friendship and all the amenities that go with it. And I will emphasize to him what he did is ANIMAL ABUSE, and should either pup get injured due to his thoughtless disregard I will call Animal Control, have him arrested and press charges against him.

And here I was in the middle of composing a missive praising Deek’s improved manners, attitude, neat appearance and good health, when he called up to my window and I quckly ran downstairs with a merry heart. In sum:

This is very bad, Wattson.

– Zeke K-Holmes

P.S.: Like every other crisis, this is a test scripted by my bodhisattva guardians. So with THAT in mind, the ONLY way this incident can be fully resolved is for him to humbly admit his crime and swear up and down he’d NEVER put the pooches in that horrid situation again. And since Deek is the player in this scenario, intentionally setting me up to see how I’d react (or better said: to manifest another incident where I get to play the hero), he will do just that. ‘Cause it’s all staged, anyway. Nevertheless, until he seriously mans up (if he ever does) I see NO other option than to keep on berating the jackass every time I see him.

Re: BIG step backward…what heartbreak!
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: May 7, 2023 at 9:35 PM

> So sorry. Such a bummer. But you saved the doggies, and that’s what counts.

Yeah, this time.

Subject: One amazing thing I’ve noticed about rap and hip-hop:
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: May 7, 2023 at 9:41 PM

[SIDEBAR: Now, where was I before the near-tragedy occurred? Oh, yeah, writing praiseworthy things about Deek. Since I’m more than halfway done with the letter (but more importantly: since what I have to say is of value to the world) I have decided to proceed with its completion and send it off.]

The lyrics are complex, multi-varied and extensive…unlike OTHER forms of pop music where it’s EASY to memorize the entire song! You’ll never see anyone singing a rap or hip-hop song in full, unlike the other genres. At best they’ll belt out a single verse or a few lines. In sum: not only are rap and hip-hop lyrics complicated as a 3-D labyrinth, but INTELLIGENT. Covering social topics of the day, and challenging the white status quo with brazen confidence! In sum:

We no longer need wonder where have all the flowers gone!

–For example, “Welcome to America” (by rap artist Lecrae):

Ladies and gentlemen, good afternoon from the flight deck
We’re cruising at 37,000 feet and we just passed over the coast
We’ll be beginning our descent in about 30 minutes
I’d like to take this opportunity to welcome you to America
Ta na na na muchawa
Ta na na na muchawa
Ta na na na muchawa ta na na na na

I was made in America land of the free, home of the brave
And right up under your nose you might see a sex slave being traded
And will do anything for the money
Boy, a mamma might sell her babies
Sell porn, sell pills, anything to pay the bills
Anything to bring that paper
Gotta scratch that itch
Gotta scratch them ticks
Ain’t rich but I might be
And I’mma shoot these flicks
I’mma turn these tricks
Anything for a slight fee
Yeah, made in America
Mamma told me that I belong here
Had to earn our stripes
Had to learn our rights
Had to fight for a home here
But I wouldn’t know a thing about that
All I know is drugs and rap
I probably could have been some kind of doctor
Instead of holding guns and crack

I was born in the mainland
Great grandpa from a strange land
He was stripped away and given bricks to lay
I guess you could say he a slave hand
But I was made in America
So I don’t know a thing about that
All I know is Uncle Sam looking for me, working on his corner so I know I gotta pay tax

Getting paid in America
I was raised in America
And this is all I ever known
If I’m wrong then you better come save me America

[and it goes on, full lyrics here, video here.]


I now understand PERFECTLY Deek’s adoration for Rap and Hip-Hop! While denied a decent education due to his social status as a ghetto child, he’s gotten MOST of his education through the aforementioned musical genres. He KNOWS what’s up, and his playing dumb is a game for him. He’s already THERE, Wattson, and my explaining to him why boots on the ground in the Tenderloin is a bad way to go, why everyone should have a right by birth to housing and other basic human needs (for examples) is simply wasting my breath!

No wonder he craves a Bluetooth speaker that is both LOUD and of high quality (and thus, costly): he’s a MISSIONARY spreading The Gospel of Rap and Hip-Hop…of black liberation and, by extension, of ALL human beings! And he considers it an absolute DISGRACE to disseminate words of truth and emancipation through inferior broadcasting devices.

[SIDEBAR: Note that when I say “gospel” I mean the Wisdom of Life as spread through Rap and Hip-Hop, and not necessarily of a Christian mindset. Though using such a word aids in wrenching from Jebus fanatics their claim of a monopoly on that word, as well as on all that’s good…which is utter bullshit. And why I call my OWN website “Gay Bible,” because “bible” simply means a compendium of works, and should NOT be owned by the churches, as if they are the only ones who have a right to use that word. Associating the words “gay” and “bible” is intentionally provocative on my part…though more significantly, NECESSARY, in my not-so-humble opinion.]

The goddess “Hindsight” (though I suspect she’s Pterry Pterodactyl in disguise; that wig she’s wearing looks cheap) now informs me:

“Precisely when you were singing praise to Deek, and ready to share it with the world, is when he showed up to knock you down. Think about that, Zeke…it is indeed another test. And you’ve aced it. He will soon return to eat humble pie. And NEVER lash the pups to a bike again unless it’s set down on the sidewalk, first. Glory be to YOU who did NOT succumb to fear of breaking the cord of friendship that has grown strong these past few weeks!”

– Zeke K-Holmes

Subject: Got my frozen cherries!
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: May 8, 2023 at 2:54 PM

Wonderful flavor, plump, dark and sweet! Great price, too: $3.79/lb. So Trader Joe’s will be my frozen cherry source from now on…along with other fruits such as blueberry, blackberry, raspberry and mango. All for the same low price.

Frozen broccoli florets and other veggies for a good price. Most of their 2-quart fruit juices have sugar added. But one that doesn’t is the “mango and passion fruit” blend which costs only $3.99. Another juice drink I REALLY wanted to take home, a “watermelon-cucumber” blend, showed sugar on the label, way at the top. Dammit.

A lotta great jarred condiments, sauces and spreads for a low price that I’ll check out next time.

A bottle of sliced kalamata olives cost HALF the price of what the corner stores charge. Same for their roasted, red bell peppers, which for some reason have disappeared from the shelves of all THREE corner establishments, almost four months ago.

Trader Joe’s own brand of tahini costs around three-fourths the price of local shops, and is ORGANIC!

Though I WAS disappointed regarding some other products:

They no longer carry their own brand of multi-grain raisin bread, for one…just a white flour variety. And their whole wheat English muffins contain sugar. Nor do I see Ezekiel’s multi-grain English muffins or raisin bread on their shelves anymore.

Their frozen vegetarian lasagna is also gone. It was great while it lasted: a six-serving size tray for just $5.59…and scrumptious! They have a wide selection of other frozen meals, mostly meat-based, and their vegetarian/vegan options are blecch!

Their packets of sliced cheese (I like either Swiss, provolone or mozzarella) are no cheaper than what I purchase at Morey’s or the other two corner shops.

No more unsweetened soy milk by the half gallon…just those pricey quart boxes.

BUT AT LEAST I GOT THOSE FROZEN CHERRIES, which makes it all worth it. Like the caveman who hunts down his prey and brings home the bacon, bursting with pride for a job well done. I suspect in a past life I musta been an Ice Age frozen cherry hunter…imagine THAT, Wattson! Actually, easy to do if you’ve already imagined yours truly as an unfrozen caveman lawyer with a talking pterodactyl for his companion!

It wasn’t crowded, thanks to my morning schedule, and even though I had to stand in line with ten customers ahead of me, I only had to wait five minutes.

So now there’s only ONE option left for whole grain English muffins, which is where Larkin works: Mollie Stone’s. Dare I go there? After all they DO carry Rudi’s brand. I’ll have to figure out WHEN he’s not there…I think he works the afternoon/evening shift. I’ll go there tomorrow before 11 AM and keep my fingers crossed.

English muffins may be the death of me yet!

Now, on a different note:


Which explains my difficult situation and why these free legal groups refuse to represent me. See:

Should the Right to an Attorney Be Extended to Civil Matters?

From which I quote: “Generally, however, the right to an attorney does not extend to civil cases, leaving the poor to navigate the legal system without representation. Poor litigants can lose substantial rights in summary proceedings where the cards are stacked against them.”

Organizations such as the American Bar Association have been fighting for decades to change that. So my pushing for it on my own would be fruitless. Eviction lawsuits are pretty much the ONLY civil cases supported by attorney representation in SOME areas of the country, those being the more progressive ones. However, they are NOT mandated under the Sixth Amendment, as are criminal matters which thus apply to all fifty states.

– Zeke K-Holmes

Subject: The Path to Mollie Stone’s is Paved with Good Intentions
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: May 9, 2023 at 2:51 PM

With courage and trepidation, I girded my loins this morning and marched on down to Mollie Stone’s, and guess who was the ONLY cashier when I stepped in? LARKIN! But he was turned away from me, bent over and browsing through what I guess was the store’s weekly circular. Plus, there were shelves partially blocking his view of the lobby. So I scuttled sideways up the adjacent aisle like a crab, to disappear ASAP. Found the English muffins at the far end of the store, but sadly, the only Rudi’s brand they had left were the plain, white-flour ones. So I settled for two packages of Thomas’ “Light Multi Grain” English muffins…something my corner shops don’t carry.

Now, there was STILL the problem of checking out my items. While standing in the aisle where the muffins resided (and from where I could see Larkin bagging produce for a customer), Pterry Pterodactyl’s diminutive form alighted upon my left shoulder and whispered:

“Just do it, Zeke, nothing to worry about. [GRAAACK!] And look! Another cashier arrived, so you can go to HIM instead of your arch-nemesis!”

“But there are now TWO people in line for the second cashier, and none for Larkin…he’s just standing there!”

“Then PLACE the damn muffins BACK on the shelves and hustle your sorry ass back outside, through aisles 2 and 7 where he won’t SEE you! [GRAAACK!]” Pterry exclaimed, but with a chuckle and a glint in his peepers. “A lack of muffins is NOT the end of the world fer Yog’s sake!”

“Umm,” I hesitated, looking over my desired muffins still in hand, drooling over the thought of crunchy, yeasty goodness (slathered with “I Can’t Believe It’s Not Butter”) upon my tongue, fulfilling my oral craving like nothing else could, in this world or the next. Larkin’s voice suddenly disrupted my reverie:

“Have a nice day, young man!” he addressed an elderly fellow with a walker on tennis balls, his purchased goods somehow secured to it in a large, cloth bag. I imagine the items contained therein were lightweight and few.

I shivered with glee as his sonorous benediction rippled through my ear drums and sparked my prefrontal cortex with a juicy burst of dopamine!

[SIDEBAR: Now THIS is a perfect example, Wattson, of how consulting with ChatGPT aided me in being scientifically accurate re. “endorphins vs. dopamine,” and whether “basal ganglia” or “prefrontal cortex” was the best way to go.]

“Well THAT really grabbed your psychic libido, didn’t it, Zeke! [GRAAACK!]

I blushed for a nanosecond, then replied: “Okay, I’m gonna do it!” and dropped the two packages into my shopping basket.

“Good idea!” Pterry replied. “After all he ALREADY knows you’re here, and did NOT put up a fuss, right?”

“Yeah,” I agreed. “He’s a sharp cookie.”

“Not only THAT, but he’s also telepathic…as you know all too well! [GRAAACK!]

“Of course,” I acknowledged. “He probably SUMMONED me here in the first place, like he did back in 2012, led me directly to Moby Dick’s where I discovered him playing pool. Upon which I learned he recently moved from South of Market to here in the Castro, after not seeing him for almost four years, wondering what happened to him!”

“Right,” replied Pterry. “And you even WROTE about it in your book Free Me From This Bond, chapter 2…which you cleverly entitled Moby’s Dick! Hey, get this, Zeke, I actually HAVE that chapter’s URL memorized! [GRAAACK!]

Pterry paused then, and after ten seconds or so I grew impatient and queried: “Well, what is it?”

He then took a deep breath, puffed out his chest and recited: “Zekeblog dot wordpress dot com slash two zero one two slash zero three slash two eight slash M-O-B-Y-S hyphen D-I-C-K. Whew!”

“Impressive!” I declared. “And without a single GRAAACK in the mix!”

“Aw shucks,” he shyly spoke. “But it’s really EASY to do if you’re telepathic yourself! [GRAAACK!]

“Gee, I never thought of that,” I mused, “but it makes perfect sense!”

Pterry didn’t reply, but after a moment or two it finally dawned on me:

“Hey! If Larkin’s telepathic, and you are too, you might be in communication with him RIGHT NOW! And all my hesitation about coming here was just foolish worry on MY part!”

“Correctamundo!” he replied. “Now get THIS, Zeke, hold onto your hat please…or your muffins!” And with that, Pterry cleared his throat with another GRAAACK, then continued:

“For all PRACTICAL purposes, as applied to your situation in the here and now, I AM Larkin having fun with you! And always HAVE been! Since I first appeared in your world with that delectable little sci-fi Sherlock Holmes spoof you composed back in January, 2021, in your Brindlekin Tales chapter called Letter to the Landlord (part 2).”

“May I remind you,” he continued with another GRAAACK, “He DID take you aside one day when your paths crossed on Market Street and dramatically declared: ‘Our friendship, our being brought together, is an INCREDIBLE godsend!’

“Yes, he did!” I replied, my heart aglow in reminiscence. “That was back in 2014, I think.”

“Exactly! [GRAAACK!] You wrote about it in a blog entry you call Stepping Into Dark Waters. There’s a good REASON he’s been bellowing nonsense on his nighttime strolls from work towards home, these past few weeks! Haven’t you…”

“You mean he’s waking me UP, preparing for us to get together again!” I interrupted. “Only THIS time on a remarkable level!”

“Bingo and graaack!” Pterry asserted. “The fantasies you’ve had on and off over the past decade or so, ABOUT this astounding reunion, were NOT just speculation, but PREMONITIONS, a foretelling BY the angels of a most incredible destiny for you both! You’re a shaman yourSELF, Zeke, and a very GOOD one at that!”

“Well graaack me with a wooden spoon!” I exclaimed, then walked up to the second cashier’s counter, even though Larkin had no one to serve at the moment. Pterry had vanished by then. My point in doing this, was to show respect towards Larkin, and not come off like a pushy old coot (“Oh, wow, you work here now, quelle surprise!”).

Besides, he would’ve called me over if he wanted, while I was patiently standing behind one-and-a-half customers. (I say “half” because the first patron was already packing her items in a large bag.)

At this point, after dropping the muffins into my backpack, there was no way I could avoid walking right BY Larkin, in order to exit Mollie Stone’s. And the path was NARROW, so coming within FOUR FEET of him could NOT be avoided! I did NOT look up at him, nor in any OTHER way, give him my attention. I couldn’t even SEE if he were lookin’ at me ’cause I held my head down till I reached the entrance and stepped back outside into the sunny, breezy-warm day. Conclusion:

I presume my weekly muffin purchases will be filled with dramatic nooks and crannies for the unforeseeable future.

– Zeke K-Holmes

Re: The Path to Mollie Stone’s is Paved with Good Intentions
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: May 10, 2023 at 12:59 AM

> So you and Larkin never spoke??

Nope. I surely would’ve mentioned that in my tale if we did. And put it in 72 point bold font with virtual confetti all over it, and a marching band gif.

Funny how we BOTH now have drama around Rudi’s muffins! And we both have a very difficult person in our lives to deal with, because of commitment to an ideal. In a weird kinda way we lead parallel lives.

Subject: My attorney’s reply and my response:
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: May 10, 2023 at 1:07 PM

I just received her email twenty minutes ago.

–begin attorney’s reply:

I will follow up with the landlord’s attorney and tell him the landlord returned May rent and ask what happened with the April rent. Do you mean that the landlord did not return the April rent but it was also not deposited? Where and how do you drop off the rent checks?


–and my response:

On April 25th I slipped my April rent payment in the form of a check in an envelope under the manager’s door. This is the usual method. And I did that only after texting him that my eviction case has been dropped, and I’ll shortly pay April’s rent. He texted back with a “Thank you.” To date, there is nothing on my bank account records indicating that check has been deposited. At first I figured it wasn’t going to be cashed until May’s payment, since the date is so close to April 25th. On May 3rd I slipped this month’s payment under the manager’s door. On May 5th I discovered that check returned, left at the foot of my door with his brief letter. To be clear:

I have no idea if the landlord himself actually got the check. All I know is I slipped it under the manager’s door. And it has not been deposited, according to my bank account records. The manager is very ill, maybe recovering, so perhaps he misplaced April’s check and even forgot I delivered it.

I think maybe Ablahblah Realty prefers all back rent paid first, before I pay them any later rent…but that’s just a hunch. The building manager did not bother to explain, if such is the case…nor has he gotten back to me on this. I don’t sense a malicious motive, but that he’s possibly senile and/or poor communication with tenants and the landlord may be the issue. I’m sure you’ll be able to clear this up with ease. Thank you again, Magdalena! I am, in general, doing just fine…in fact, superb! This is the result of taking any bad situation and doing my best to turn it around into a positive outcome for all parties involved. “Crisis is opportunity.”


Click here for a larger view.

Subject: I just received a notice to pay or quit:
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: May 10, 2023 at 2:30 PM

Here’s the email I sent to my attorney just a moment ago. The only relevant page is the first one, see attachment.


Just after 2pm today, I got a knock on my door. It was Victor our maintenance man. He handed me some papers, apologized, said the landlord asked him to deliver the papers. I just said okay, thanks, no problem. I then read the first page, which is a 3-day notice to pay or quit! But get this:

They got my monthly rent wrong. They claim it’s $309.32 when it’s actually $301.59. So the total amount due should be $3,619.08, not $3,772.94.

So now we know why the building manager has refused payment…and didn’t bother to explain why, to boot!

I’m sure you’ll be on top of this in no time, Magdalena. Thanks again! Here’s a copy of all four pages of that notice.


Re: I just received a 3-day notice to pay or quit!
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: May 10, 2023 at 3:38 PM

> Jesus fucking Christ!!

They’re gonna get in so much trouble…just you wait! Ablahblah’s attorney agreed with MY attorney that, yes, I should pay April’s rent, and May’s (if it comes to that), before I pay all the back rent reimbursed to me by Bay Area Legal Aid. So, Ablahblah’s attorney, in cahoots with Kevin, set me up to look like I’ve failed to pay ANY rent. BY NOT CASHING MY CHECKS! I guess I should do a stop payment on April’s check, which’ll cost me $25. Now get THIS, Wattson:

ALL MY TEXTS TO KEVIN HAVE DISAPPEARED FROM MY SMARTPHONE ARCHIVES! Fortunately, I’ve taken a screenshot of the latest one I sent to Kevin, asking where is the April check, and sent a copy of it to my attorney. It’s backed up to my two cloud services, as well as my external media. So from now on I’m gonna take screenshots of ALL the important texts and back ’em up IMMEDIATELY. Even my recent ones to my attorney are all gone. In fact, that’s how I found out they’ve been erased, ’cause I just went to view my recent texts to her, intending to move them into my archives…but they disappeared, too!

Could Ablahblah’s attorney have paid some hacker to do that? He’d’ve had to get around my VPN first, and only THEN my Tracfone account! I really DON’T think that’s what’s going on. Bodhisattva mischief more likely. At any rate:

The amount demanded is wrong, anyway…and Magdalena will most likely slap some serious charges on them, or at least a WARNING to back off. It will be MOST interesting to read her next reply! You will know, of course, ASAP.

– Zeke K-Holmes

P.S.: Paying my rent the usual way (slipping the check under Kevin’s door) is now FOREVER outta the question. I’ll have to mail each one CERTIFIED to Ablahblah Realty. Which means an added expense for moi! I’ll discuss this with Magdalena.

Re: I just received a 3-day notice to pay or quit!
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: May 10, 2023 at 4:26 PM

> If it were moi, I’d deliver it in person.

What’s to stop them from lying about it, claiming they never got my check? I’d have to have my camera running, and I don’t know if they’d care for that. Ablahblah might ban me from stepping into their building. I’m sure my attorney will know the best approach.

As far as starting a lawsuit against them, it would be a civil suit, for which I do NOT have the right to an attorney…especially if I’M the plaintiff! So the amount sued would have to be GRAND enough for any lawyer to consider taking my case pro bono. But is it actually strong enough to attract a good attorney? I think so, but that’s just in MY eyes. It would most likely have to be a CLASS ACTION lawsuit, but I don’t have faith in other residents taking up arms, in spite of their frustration about management, including one occupant’s attempt to start a tenants union. I could easily wind up being even MORE of a pariah in their eyes! (Not like that would STOP me, if I thought that’s the best way to go…you know me, Wattson.)

Stay tuned for my bodhisattva spin on this issue. It’s a hoot and a holler!

– Zeke K-Holmes

Click here for a larger view.

Subject: Glob’s messenger “Hindsight” is keeping me busy these days!
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: May 10, 2023 at 5:15 PM

[Jebus on a splintery wooden dildo, I’ve been trying to get this piece done, but then I was RUDELY interrupted by that 3-day notice to pay or quit…so I had to deal with THAT before continuing with THIS! What a clown show Ablablah Realty et al are! At any rate, let’s get on with the show:]

Though I suspect it’s Pterry Pterodactyl in disguise, playing that role…the cheap platinum wig gives it away!

Around 9:30 AM I heard loud rap music playing across the street, so figured it might be you-know-who. It was! Walking the dogs with a granny cart carrying the speaker. I tried to catch a video of the scene, but he was already by the corner when I had my camera pointed at them, but the tree’s leaves outside my window blocked the view. He looked good, dressed nicely, pups looked good, as well. Per My Bodhisattva Premise:

I’m being tested (or better said, “initiated”). Setting the dogs up in a dangerous situation to see if I’d do the right thing, which I did, including lambasting their master for such careless disregard. This implies the dogs are somehow protected from any harm, no matter how BAD the scenario appears. Something which bodhisattva guardians are quite capable of doing.

[SIDEBAR: I want to make it absolutely clear that believing this does NOT mean one should turn a blind eye towards a perceived wrong, but should ALWAYS speak out and take whatever action necessary to thwart potential harm.]

My LARC adventure was THE turning point, and my life has changed radically since then (for the better). I’ve drastically reduced my time spent watching informative Youtube videos because much more of my time is now taken up writing about the increasing number of startling events going on in my life these days. After LARC came:

My General Denial to plaintiff’s attorney…and eventually sending a copy of these denials TO Ablahblah’s attorney. Deek’s vast improvement re. his behavior and attitude…then this sudden setback. Larkin resuming his boisterous yodeling along Market Street across from my building these past few weeks…followed by his unexpected presence at Mollie Stone’s ’cause I figured he works later in the day. Not to mention the REVELATION that grew out of that! And finally (at least for now) my surprise 3-day notice to pay or quit.

[SIDEBAR (I love my sidebars, hope you do too): After seeing Larkin yesterday, and hearing his amazing voice, I felt all my dreams invigorated, and My Premise affirmed. To have him actually SPEAK to me would’ve sullied the experience, that is: watered down a powerful uplifting of my spirit. IOW his verbal acknowledgment would likely have stifled my creative outpouring, and we’d never have that delightful “muffin” badinage with Pterry Pterodactyl to share with the world.]

All these intense episodes in such a short span of time indicate one thing (and one thing only, in THIS bedazzled pilgrim’s eyes): a CULMINATION of my Brindlekin Adventures. Which THEN implies that breakthrough where I become KNOWN and CELEBRATED across the world, starting with San Franshitsco of course! Remember, Wattson, per My Bodhisattva Premise: all folks involved are ACTORS, and some play my enemy in order to make me into the hero of my own show. It’s all SCRIPTED, including Deek’s egregious setback, Ablahblah Realty’s attorney, MY attorney, the building manager, and so on. And a bodhisattva stirring up mischief ALWAYS leaves a clue.

In the case of my SECOND 3-day notice, that clue is the claim for rent due…the sum of which is INCORRECT. They’re having fun with me is all, including Magdalena. THEY’RE ALL IN ON IT, as I’ve said many times before!

Now, in ending this email, this video I shot just minutes ago while composing this piece, showing our building manager being assisted from vehicle to building. SOMEone’s paying his dues for all the wickedness he’s manifested! (11 seconds):

Nice to see some people in this world really care!

Now how synchronistic is THAT? A perfect ending to this, my latest tale, ’cause not of my own doing!

– Zeke K-Holmes

P.S.: This morning I upgraded my Xfinity service from 50 Mbps to 100. Still fully covered by ACP (Affordable Connectivity Program). Looks like my upload speed has also been doubled: from 10 Mbps to 20. Huzzah!

P.P.S.: Now, for a delightful repast of Twining’s black currant tea, Thomas’ multigrain English muffin and Trader Joe’s frozen cherries! (I should get PAID for the advertising…and further down the pike I surely will!)


Smartphone archives are back!

Turned out my Xfinity upgrade shut down my modem for several minutes. This, then, thwarted my VPN service, which I had to manually turn back on. I have it set to block my connection should it not be running…an excellent security measure. So, now that I have the VPN activated once more, my archives are visible again. Whew!

Subject: Attorney’s next reply, and my response:
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: May 10, 2023 at 6:03 PM

Her latest email arrived just moments ago. This is fun! In a weird kinda way.


Ok, thank you. I will reach out to the landlord’s attorney and demand to rescind the 3 day notice. I will also mention that you can pay all back rent right now. If they file and serve a summons and complaint on this, we can probably file another demurrer because of the incorrect rent amount. Is your monthly rent amount written down somewhere? I think you don’t have a copy of the lease right? Or do you have receipts for your previous payments showing what you paid? We have $3,017 in our trust account.


I have records of my rent checks in my online bank account…a snapshot of each check. I have April and May’s amount in my bank account which, added to my escrow, gives me the correct total of all payment due. Maybe it’s better if I deposit that remaining amount into escrow, and have BALA send them the payment.

I don’t know how I should pay my rent going forward, as I don’t trust our building manager at this point. Perhaps send a check each month directly to Ablahblah, via certified mail. Do you have a better idea? Thanks again, Magdalena.

– Zeke the Persistent


Hip-Hopping My Way To Nirvana

May 6, 2023

[Brindlekin Tales – Book 7: Chapter 25]

Subject: My second query to the American Bar Association’s “free question” site:
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: May 3, 2023 at 1:10 AM

Just posted it moments ago.


This is a personal injury lawsuit requesting over a $25,000 settlement. Though I’m Judgment Proof, I decided to reply with a General Denial, because the numerous Complaints were either outrageous or false. There are two defendants in this case, myself and my landlord. So I’m now wondering, since Plaintiff’s Attorney will drop me from the case because I’m Judgment Proof, will my landlord’s attorney have access to my list of Denials via the Plaintiff’s Attorney? (On the day he received my General Denial, he contacted me via phone and asked me to email him back with a list of those complaints I am denying, with an explanation for each one.)

Or should I make the Landlord’s Attorney aware of my denials, and offer to send him a copy…if doing so is legal? I’m sure my denials will aid the other defendant considerably. But since I don’t know how the legal system works in this matter, I’m not sure if my list of denials is required by Plaintiff’s Attorney to show to the Defendant’s Attorney. Or if not, is there some other way for Defendant’s Attorney to see them through lawful means?

The Case Management Conference is scheduled for August 23, which I presume I won’t be asked to attend, though of course the other defendant will, and I’d like them to be strengthened with my denials at hand, if at all possible.


Re: Marshall’s narration of Shadow Box (part 1) ready for download!
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: May 3, 2023 at 1:40 PM

> Excellent! I love hearing him read my stuff. He totally “gets” it!

Yes, it’s a real pleasure and a great honor to have him read one’s prosaic output. A special treat is when he interjects this or that side comment, ya never know WHEN (or even if) he’ll do it, but it’s always a prize when he does!

I presume you’ve downloaded the two audio files, so will now remove them from my Mega cloud and gay-bible services. Rest assured, though, they’ll remain on Google Drive for time immemorial, as well as my main drive and backed up to external media.

– Zeke K-Holmes

Subject: Deek’s last three visits: stupendous!
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: May 3, 2023 at 9:29 PM

11:30 PM Monday night, briefer than brief, just a passing by. A soft “Yo!” summoned me from my work station to peer out the window.

“Am I due any allowance yet, or do I gotta wait till the third?” he queried, as the doggies gazed up at me with loving regard, eyes glinting gold under the street lamp and curly tails a-waggin’.

“The third,” I replied. “In two days.”

“Okay, thanks,” he answered, then said, “You don’t have to come down, I’ll be on my way now.”

Of course I so badly yearned to rush downstairs and hug the pups, but I just nodded and watched them depart. Lucky & Flaco glanced back at me a few times in sweet regret before they all disappeared into the fog. All I could give in return were smiles…that had to suffice. I then withdrew my head from the window and returned to my desk to wrap up another good day’s work. I hit the sack moments later, knowing full WELL how things will soon turn out: beyond any and ALL expectations. And off to Slumberland I sailed, on Psyche’s wings!

[SIDEBAR: In fact, My Dear Wattson, I strongly SENSE the near future barreling down upon THIS most grateful pilgrim: a premonition, an awesome SHIVER humming deep within my core and rippling through my very bones, as I anticipate the approaching juggernaut of overwhelming good fortune. Of such an immeasurable boon that NO ONE ON EARTH has ever been so blessed in all our troubled history thus far (except in mythology, of course, including the religious kind). And I don’t even take DRUGS to feel this way, good doctor! Not since Pterry Pterodactyl first appeared YEARS AGO to breathe fresh life into this soul a-tremble with ungodly cravings. Which turned out to be my LAST without so much as a single SURGE of withdrawal pangs. I call it “my 100% solution!” EVERYone should have a friendly, Late Jurassic proto-bird in their life…and so it shall be, if “moi” has anything to do with it! Graaack!]

Now we come to Deek’s second meetup, late in the day of Tiwes…shortly after Svalinn raised her shield to Sol’s luminescence and plunged this side of the world into night’s dark abyss:

Soon as I stepped out, Flaco & Lucky ran up to me in happy greets, for which I dropped onto the sidewalk and embraced them both. Lucky was especially silly, as he not only flopped on his back to squirm for joy, but pushed his front paws against my hip and wriggled a semicircle around my lower back till he reached the other side! Whereupon I turned my torso in his direction to pick him up and place him onto my lap so I could scritch his belly!

Of course his sister wanted in on the act and demanded my attention by plopping herself half-atop Lucky while pressing hard against my thigh. Deek smiled to witness the canine camaraderie, said he was glad to bring them here tonight, since he knows how much I miss having them visit me upstairs. Then he told me to watch them while he runs off to purchase some cheap grub from the Chevron station.

While he was gone I grabbed two sheets of cardboard by the trash bin and laid them down for the pooches. (It was a bit later when I brought down their sleeping bag, after their master returned.) Our Viking friend Heimdall showed up, too…for most of Deek’s visit, in fact, which lasted a tad over two hours. He was good company as usual, a tempering force that serves to quell my Cajun sidekick’s penchant for hissy fits. He offered us a celebratory shot of butterscotch schnapps, but we both turned him down.

“Thank you for the kind offer,” I replied. “But me and alcohol don’t mix well, it burns a hole in my stomach and makes me feel like crap.”

He took no offense and continued his amiable badinage with Deek, while also greeting the dogs who enjoy his company, but preferred to remain snug in their sleeping bag, for it was a bit chill last night. Heimdall stepped aside for awhile to diddle with his own Bluetooth speaker, which allowed me some conversational time with Deek. First thing he brought up was money (natch):

“My good speaker was stolen, and one of my people offered me a great deal,” he murmured in a mellow stupor (whether from meth, ganja or lack of sleep I know not). “So I’m asking if you could part with three hunner dollah tomorrow, soon as the bank opens. The speaker’s value is five hunner.”

If I told you I was shocked, Wattson, I’d be lying:

“I guess I can do that,” I said after mulling it over for a few seconds. “Your entire month’s allowance for May comes to $320, so I’ll just give you the whole enchilada. I see no point in holding on to twenty dollars for later dispersal. What good would THAT do?”

My reasoning behind this was: he seems to spend ALL his allowance on electronic crap anyway, and allotting him an entire month’s stipend in one lump sum would do away with his brainless accusations that I failed to pay him his final eighty dollars come week 4. Besides which: his tiny cabin setup includes two meals per day, plus a hundred dollars monthly. And on top of that he sells weed and meth on the streets, plus scavenges for bottles and cans which bring in even MORE moolah. So he’s sitting pretty with all those things going for him!

“I swear, I won’t bother you about money for the rest of the month!” he reassured me, though that remains to be seen, doesn’t it, old chap?

“I hope not, Deek” I retorted. “But even if you do I guarantee on a stack of bibles it won’t get you anywhere.”

He then moved on to the next topic of his choice:

“All the dealers in the Tenderloin are laying low these days, the Coast Guard is on the streets hunting ’em down!

“It’s not the Coast Guard, Deek,” I explained, “It’s the CHP and the National Guard. But they’re not AFTER the users, or even small-time dealers. They’re gunning for the big shots who are mostly responsible for this epidemic of deaths from fentanyl-laced everything. But it’s not even boots on the ground, they’re operating behind the scenes, gathering evidence before each arrest. They’re not interested in turning the Tenderloin into a war zone.”

“Uh-uh,” he disagreed with a shake of the head, “they’re patrolling the streets, like some kinda foreign invasion!”

At any rate, Wattson, it turned out Deek is all FOR ending this fentanyl tragedy…he’s ALWAYS shunned it, and avoids anyone he knows who uses that drug, like the plague. So he’s on the side of the law in this matter, and I am most PLEASED to hear that straight from the horse’s mouth!

And now we get to his third, and final, topic for that night:

“Lucky dumped a humongous turd this morning, fat and REALLY long!”

“What on earth did you FEED him?” was my initial reaction.

“Nothing out of the ordinary,” he shrugged.

“If either one of ’em has to poop late at night, do you get up and take them for a walk?” I further queried.

“Yeah, I do, but for some reason they don’t relieve themselves,” he explained. “It’s like they’re still holding it in, even though they’re not indoors.”

“Well, they always pooped for me, never a problem,” I replied, not knowing what else to say.

Before My Humble Trio departed, I said: “See ya tomorrow morning, but please don’t show up earlier than nine if at all possible.”

“I’ll try,” was all he said before pushing his cart homewards…or at least, in that direction for part of the way.

Now, last but not least, this morning’s meetup:

I made sure to get to the Chase branch shortly after 8 AM, in hopes of avoiding Deek calling up to my window before I got that done first. There was a slight drizzle in the air, which I think went on all night. Not bad if you don’t stand in one place too long, but it DID call for a raincoat.

I didn’t take the usual route, which is to turn left up Noe Street, then a sharp right down the first side street. Instead, I walked straight up Market Street for one long block, then turned left and crossed Fifteenth, where the bank was situated right on the opposite corner. Here’s a screenshot taken off a Google map in case you’re curious, seeing as it WILL become a protected shrine some day, thanks to it being one of the places frequented by the founder of The First Church of Dog:

Click here for a larger view.

Once the ATM spit out fifteen Jacksons and I inserted them into a Chase envelope and dropped THAT into my backpack, I decided to return by the usual route: up 15th Street to Noe. Upon reaching Noe Street I crossed it to continue down the opposite side, for quicker access into Rosenberg’s two short blocks down. Pleased with the thought that I could POSSIBLY enjoy my java and blueberry muffin beFORE the cash-grubbing Cajun trickster showed up, I was just about to enter the shop when I heard his voice call out: “Yo!”

I turned about to see him standing right across the street in a sheltered nook, with the two mutts and a dolly instead of his usual cart. Apparently he had left his cabin early, or stayed out all night, and was parked there waiting for 9 AM to arrive. But I had to go and fuck it up by taking the Noe Street route.

“Where did YOU come from?” he queried as I drew near. “Taking an early morning stroll?”

I held my hands out and said: “Where do you THINK I came from?”

He seemed genuinely confused, so I confessed: “From the bank, of course!”

Soon as I stood close to him, the pups arose from their cozy little spot to greet me with the profound respect they show to any human who truly loves them. I crouched down to hug and pet them for a bit, noticing Flaco’s slight shiver from the damp cold…while their master remained silent. At least they both were dry.

Once I stood back up I asked him: “Well, do you want your money now, or would you rather wait until the rain dies out, like maybe this afternoon or tomorrow?”

“No, I’ll take it now,” he replied. And with that I removed my backpack to extract the Chase envelope and hand it to him.

“I couldn’t get you that extra twenty,” I explained, “because I forgot you can’t withdraw more than $300 from an ATM on any given day.”

He was disappointed upon hearing that: “Damn, I was planning to get some coffee and a snack with that!”

“Sorry, no can do,” I replied. For I only had five dollars in my OWN pocket, and two Washingtons back hovel.

“Nice raincoat,” he then said. “Where’d you get it?”

“From your friend Deek, but you should know that already,” I declared, “because you were there when I thanked him for it.” (Please note, dear reader, in case you forgot: Deek has a friend by the same name. Thank Glob my Brindlekin Tales ain’t a Russian novel!)

“No I wasn’t,” he pointlessly objected.

“Yes you were,” I rebutted. “This was in early December I think. You were seated on your bike with one foot on the ground, blabbing away with him when I showed up and thanked him for the raincoat he gave me a few days earlier. You seemed perturbed then, too, as if anything that happens in this burg should go by YOU first. The world doesn’t work that way, Deek!”

He didn’t respond further, so I changed the subject: “Sure was nice to see Heimar again!”

He then mumbled something I couldn’t comprehend, while preparing to depart. As he grabbed the dolly to go, a heavy speaker the size of a bread box enclosed in a zippered cloth case suddenly slipped from atop the small pile of other sundry items loosely secured by a single bungee cord. It fell with a hard “thump” to the sidewalk.

“Fuck!” is all he said while balancing it back in place. “I’m going to the Chevron station now.”

“Well okay and god bless,” I replied, and just stood there for a few moments, watching them take off as he pushed the dolly along while keeping a firm hand on the speaker. I then crossed the street and entered Rosenberg’s.

So that’s it for now, good physician. Just wanna share some final thoughts born of that enigmatic deity of hindsight, who should rightfully have a place on Mt. Olympus…and not just because his twin deity called “afterthought” says so:

Funny how I talked about dancing in the streets once a troubadour with some musical instrument or a boombox shows up. For minutes after posting that, it struck me: THAT’S DEEK, HE’S ALREADY A TROUBADOUR! Also funny I’ve been downloading rap and hip-hop videos recently, ’cause Deek’s influence sparked in my heart a love for that genre. When all the while I ALREADY HAVE THIS STUPENDOUS COLLECTION STORED ON MY LAPTOP (backed up on external media to boot), thanks to my acquiring them for Deek over the years! 7,161 SONGS TOTAL AT THIS POINT…A VERITABLE CORNUCOPIA! So I’m good to go, Wattson…soon as he blasts one of those songs in front of Hotel California North, that makes me wanna boogie down! Conclusion:

Again, a SETUP by my bodhisattva guardians who know my future so well, including what is to come down the pike a VERY short time from now! And Deek KNOWS this!

– Zeke K-Holmes

P.S.: ALSO funny how, with the first lawsuit I am AGAINST the landlord, but with the second I am very much PRO. Ezekiel through the Looking Glass…with a magician’s pinch of smoke and mirrors to spice things up. Oh those wascally wabbit bodhisattva guardians!


Here comes the God of Hindsight to whisper in my ear once again (or is that YOU, Pterry Pterodactyl):

If Deek were not lying about needing $300 for a new speaker, then why did he take off to Chevron to purchase coffee and a snack? After all, wasn’t that sum the exact price required to gain his prize? Oh well, it doesn’t really matter. NOTHING matters except Lucky & Flaco’s health and happiness! Keeping my eye on the REAL prize.

Click here for a larger view.

Subject: Something I forgot to mention about last night’s meetup!
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: May 4, 2023 at 10:25 PM

Deek and Heimar were talking about his tiny cabin arrangement, which I only gathered when I clearly heard him say:

“I told them to get me a room at the Donnelly Hotel, it’s a really NICE place!”

And it’s true, Wattson, these hotels converted for the houseless are set up with respect and consideration for these unfortunate folks. Not just clean and friendly, but they’re provided with three hot meals a day, regular wellness checks if needed, good security and a warm, welcoming place to call home! If you haven’t seen the article I posted to the MCN lists yesterday, on just this matter, here’s the URL again, but it’s the VIDEO that goes with it, you must see (9.5 minutes).

Also, here’s a superb video about San Francisco’s navigation centers (5.5 minutes).

In sum:

So GLAD to see Deek pushing for a stable home life! It will certainly bring much joy to the pups, as I’m sure they’re already ecstatic to call that tiny cabin their new digs.

– Zeke K-Holmes

Subject: Disappointing reply from the ABA’s “free legal answers” service!
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: May 4, 2023 at 11:24 AM


From the Administrator

May 4 at 11:55 AM CDT


Unfortunately our volunteers can currently only help with disaster-related legal questions at the moment. You previously asked a question that was picked up by a volunteer before it could be administratively withdrawn. The answer was allowed to be posted in light of your approaching deadline and housing concerns.

There may be other places for help. Please see the additional resources below.

To search for (free) legal aid providers in your county:

Law Help CA

To find a Lawyer Referral Service in your County, to get a regular paid attorney [if your income is low, possibly a low-fee attorney]:

LRS by County

San Francisco Law Library’s legal reference librarians are available to help you find resources and information that may help you represent yourself.

San Francisco Public Law Library. The library is open Monday–Friday from 9am–5pm.

The ACCESS (Assisting Court Customers with Education and Self-help Services) Center can give you legal information and/or referrals to other resources to help you represent yourself.


While I am sorry we cannot directly assist, I hope some of the resources, and other resources provided previously, may help.


The main problem I have with their reply is they don’t clearly STATE on their “free question” page that they only handle disaster related cases at this time. In fact, all the drop-down options seem to indicate they ONLY deal with COVID or fire issues. Though I presumed this was simply a matter of sloppy presentation, since the ABA is supposed to assist ALL low income people! Three other issues I have with their reply:

1) Paid attorney? Even on a sliding scale the fees are still astronomical, relative to my incone. What a wad of crap!

2) San Francisco Law Library? Impossible to get the answers I need, no matter how many legal tomes they throw at me!

3) The ACCESS Center has a live chat and a live helpline to answer your queries. But they do not include Personal Injury cases on their list of things they can help you with. They ALSO have an “Intake Inquiry Form” online, which I’ve already tried (regarding best way to respond to a Personal Injury Summons when I’m Judgment Proof), but they never got back to me! Just for the heck of it I’ll try again, with the same question I just posed to the ABA. A simple matter of copy/paste…there, ’tis done! Not that I expect any reply from them THIS time around, either.

– Zeke K-Holmes


“Law grinds the poor, and rich men rule the law.” – Oliver Goldsmith

Re: Disappointing reply from the ABA’s “free legal answers” service!
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: May 4, 2023 at 10:05 PM

> VERY disappointing. Same old crap!

HUGE holes in their outreach to the poor, like Swiss cheese when the holes occupy more space than the cheese itself. Assuming I’m very soon gonna rocket to fame, all this dirty laundry will hang out to dry for the entire world to see, via my WordPress blog. If the SF Bar were smart, they’d hustle their asses PRONTO to rectify this before that happens. And it’s possible they will, once my eviction attorney checks out my LARC story, wherein I bring that up! She could spread the word by sharing my letter of gratitude with others in various legal organizations…which includes the link to my LARC chapter. So:

The American Bar Association’s latest (and final) reply pretty much said their assisting me with my first question was a MISTAKE! This’ll go into my blog tonight. More than one way to skin a cat.

– Zeke K-Holmes

Subject: Announcing the release of my “Eviction Fiasco” chapters!
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: MCN announcement, MCN discussion
Date: May 5, 2023 at 12:23 PM

The following “Eviction Fiasco” chapters number 21 in toto, split between books 5 and 6 of my Brindlekin Tales. I had to put them all on hold until the lawsuit came to an end, which it did on 19 April 2023. All parties involved are pseudonymous except for yours truly. The time span of these “Fiasco” adventures runs from May through September of 2022. They are largely about OTHER aspects of my life, but since somewhere in each piece details of my lawsuit are brought up one way or another, I had to delay their publication…as it is verboten to discuss or make public any particulars of one’s case until it has come to a close. Some chapters beyond the “Fiasco” collection DO bring up the lawsuit, but not in any detail.

To read these chapters, just go to my WordPress “Brindlekin Tales” page here.

Once that page is loaded, search for “fiasco” and it will take you to that section immediately. Enjoy the true adventure!

– Ezekiel J. Krahlin, auteur extraordinaire

Subject: Another thing I forgot to mention about Tuesday night’s meetup…
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: May 5, 2023 at 1:01 PM

…something I revealed to Deek soon as he parked his sorry ass on the sidewalk. That I LOVE rap and hip-hop music now, after being exposed to it all these years!

“Really good stuff,” I added. “TONS of it! It’s got heart, it’s got soul, it’s got rhythm, it spits in the face of corruption and evil! Who WOULDn’t wanna dance to that?”

“What?” he replied. “No one develops a taste for something overnight!”

“Of course not!” I retorted. “Didn’t you just hear me say AFTER being exposed to it for years? And just WHO do you think is responsible for that? I’ll give you three guesses.”

“Oh, so it finally grabbed you?” he queried like a doubting Thomas. “And just when did THAT happen?”

“The white man’s wax fell outta my ears about a week ago!” I confessed. “Now I LOVE rap, I LOVE hip-hop, and I have a HUGE collection of music to enjoy, thanks to some crazy Cajun dude who lived on the streets for YEARS with two of the sweetest little doggies I’ve ever met, but they now have a tiny cabin to call home…only four or five BLOCKS from here!”

Well, Wattson, he didn’t seem the LEAST bit intrigued or excited over this, maybe ’cause he thought I was mocking him. Or perhaps in his own mind he humbly congratulated himself for a job well done.

– Zeke K-Holmes

P.S.: Today’s May 5th, when Magdalena Elvensborn returns from vacation and will soon read my letter of appreciation. What better reason to celebrate Cinco de Mayo than THAT? Then there’s Marshall’s “Memo of the Weird” going live tonight. Just another day in paradise for THIS jaded-hippie-queer pilgrim!

Subject: “What a big font you have!”
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: May 5, 2023 at 2:30 PM

Said my Little Red Riding Hood to Kevin’s wolf…see pic 1:

Click here for a larger view.

Why such a large font, anyway…is this his attempt to yell at me? At any rate I texted him…see pic 2:

He hasn’t texted back yet. Now get THIS, Wattson:

Barely a minute after I found his letter dropped by the foot of my door, I received this less-than-helpful reply from ACCESS:


Dear Ezekiel Krahlin,

Thank you for your inquiry. The ACCESS Center is a self-help center that assist self-represented litigants with forms completion and answer procedural questions on case types that are within the menu of our services, see our flyer for the list of services and hours of operation.

Your inquiry regarding the personal injury lawsuit, a general civil case, referenced in your inquiry are beyond the scope of the self-help menu of services. Please contact the (BASF) Bar Association of San Francisco’s Lawyer Referral Service at (415) 989-1616 to hire an attorney, and/or to see if you qualify for a low fee or free attorney.


IDIOTS, the lot of ’em! How do they get to work, in a clown car?

– Zeke K-Holmes


I’ve been putting a dog or cat sticker on my rent payment envelope for years, Wattson! But when I resumed payment (slipping the envelope under the manager’s door) I thought to myself: “Hmm, in the context of this eviction brouhaha, my continuing to attach a doggy sticker may prove to be a vexing thorn in his side!” For which conclusion I decided to keep it up.

BTW April’s check never showed up in my account records as having been deposited. Why didn’t he return it to me, instead of waiting for May’s payment to do that? The only reason I can come up with, is: he’s just addle brained. Those clinging to life with their final breath often are.

Subject: Another email to my eviction attorney!
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: May 5, 2023 at 5:32 PM

Since she’s not in her office Fridays, I used Gmail’s schedule option to have it posted on Monday, 9:30 AM.


Subject: Building manager refused my rent payment!

This happened on Friday, May 5th. He (or more likely an assistant, due to his feeble condition) left this message by my door, with my check for this month’s rent:

[Google drive link to the letter Kevin dropped at my door, though a different pic showing it right on the hallway floor, exactly how he left it: an open envelope with the check sticking out and the letter visible for anyone to read. So maybe THAT’S why he used such a large font, what a stinker! And whoever delivered it definitely read it. See attachment, Wattson.]

Regardless, the letter was not sealed, so anyone walking by could easily read it, especially with such a large font…and the check was right there for anyone to pick up and read as well, thus revealing what a low amount I pay.

So I texted him:

[Google drive link to a screenshot of the text in question, Wattson.]

Don’t know why he didn’t do that for April’s check, which has yet to show up on my bank account records as having been deposited in Ablahblah’s name.

Now, I have this question, which is NOT a Civil Suit query per se, but a general one about what to expect from a General Denial regarding the other defendant, my Landlord. But because it DOES have to do with my civil suit, I’ll understand if you cannot answer my question…and I’ll march on down to LARC’s next walk-in. Because they’re the only option I have left. Both the ABA and ACCESS (via their online question page) refuse to give me an answer because it’s a Civil matter (well, the ABA claims they only deal with disaster related issues these days, though they don’t make that clear on their website). Legal Assistance for the Elderly likewise doesn’t deal with Civil issues. Nor do legal services for the disabled. And the SF Law Library does NOT have any material related to my situation that I can find…nor can the librarians there either. Anyway, here’s my question:

[Exact same query I posted to the ABA and ACCESS, Wattson.]

Thanks once again, Magdalena!



Re: Another email to my eviction attorney!
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: May 5, 2023 at 5:32 PM

> Utterly bizarre. Doubt he’d be refusing it on his own; he’s being directed. But no such notification for the April check, eh?

My Bodhisattva Premise:

A bit more ribbing, a bit more having fun at my expense…and gifting me with even MORE delightful tales to compose…cliffhangers abound! I am very pleased–no, ECSTATIC–at how effortlessly I’m churning out these literary bon mots in response.

And no, my April check (which I slipped under Kevin’s door on the 25th) has failed to show up in my bank account, as having been deposited by Ablahblah Realty. But I’m sure Magdalena will peremptorily straighten out the rent payment issue with their attorney, come Monday or Tuesday, hell or high water. Especially in light of the malicious way Kevin had his letter delivered.

– Zeke K-Holmes

P.S.: It was a three-hour trial of tedium getting all my “Eviction Fiasco” chapters posted to my blog. Because I had to edit the title, book number and chapter number for each and every one of those 21 chapters. Then download ’em individually for backup to my main drive, then insert their titles and links one by one into my Brindlekin Tales table of contents. WHEW! What a relief and a thrill to finally get it done! For they’ve been lingering in my WordPress trash folder for so many months, jonesing to be let outta the gate since day one, with a click of the “restore” button.


Changed the date of my email delivery. By one day, plus a later time: 11:30 AM. I don’t want it crashing up against that wonderful missive about my “LARC’apade.” ‘Cause even though posted last week, she just returned from vacation today, so won’t read it till Monday…along with the rent check issue, had I not rescheduled its delivery.


I decided it’s best to drop my question about the General Denial and focus on my rent check debacle. I’ll just attend another LARC congregation. After all, birds of a feather DO flock together! (Pterry Pterodactyl gave me that pun, BTW.)

Memo of the Weird soon to broadcast another Friday night delight!

Subject: Repercussion of my General Denial, perhaps?
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: May 6, 2023 at 1:06 AM

Which might explain Kevin’s foolhardy rejection of my rent check, and the way he did it. FYI he has NOT texted me back, and it’s been well over six HOURS!

Could Plaintiff’s Attorney have contacted Kevin regarding the rabies vaccination? And asked him: “Did you receive the proof Mr. Krahlin claimed to have texted you? And if so, did you neglect to inform the Plaintiff due to the distraction of your illness, or possibly (god forbid) malicious intent?”

Or did Plaintiff’s Attorney drop the lawsuit, pissing off his client who informed Kevin about this unexpected turn of events? Because the Plaintiff ACTED upon Kevin’s “sage” counsel…to proceed with a lawsuit, and which complaints to fabricate?

So now, if they proceed with a lawsuit, Plaintiff AND Attorney (AND Kevin) might wind up being charged with perjury on numerous counts, thanks to my General Denial and accompanying list of rebuttals?

Oh, divine conjecture! Like a sweet, plump, frozen dark-red cherry thawing out upon my tongue on a sultry summer day! Gawd, I miss those cherries…I need to hustle my ass down to Trader Joe’s! The good Amazon giveth and the good Amazon taketh away.

[Oh, wow, Marshall just started reading part 2 of Shadow Box! 12:49 AM.]

– Zeke K-Holmes

Subject: Deek was right re. “boots on the ground” in the Tenderloin!
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: May 6, 2023 at 12:26 PM

So City Hall deceived us! Again. See this article:

Military-Style Drug War in Tenderloin Sparks Fears That More Drug Users Could Overdose

Re: Deek was right re. “boots on the ground” in the Tenderloin!
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: May 6, 2023 at 3:12 PM

> Reminiscent of the Cossacks riding into the shtetls and laying waste.

A government is only as good as its people. So what OTHER outcome should one expect? So many democrats and progressives still harbor fascist attitudes in some aspects. Look at how all these self-proclaimed “democratic” queers have been treating ME…referring to this homeless dog issue specifically, but also many OTHER incidents throughout my life here in San Franshitsco! So much hostility towards the homeless, and those who advocate FOR them, as I do.

> Remember when we were kids and the post-war future looked so bright you practically had to wear shades? Little did we dream that within our lifetimes we’d become technologically space-age and socially Dark Age.

“Disneyfied brainwashing,” I calls it. Though maybe better stated as “corporatized.”

Medieval superstition has lumbered on into modern times like an albatross around civilization’s neck. The Catholic and Muslim muckymucks are mostly responsible for this travesty. With capitalism a close second…which likewise arose from religion, that is: Calvinism and the Protestant work ethic. (Not to be confused with the comic strip character Calvin, whose stuffed tiger compatriot, Hobbes, instilled a rebellious spirit in the young fellow…much like his philosopher namesake did for society.)

> Feudalism, ever lurking in the shadows, always ready to rear its ugly head again.

They’ll soon have moi to contend with…and with the stalwart support of Pterry Pterodactyl and his army of leather-winged minions–plus my Mighty Mouse Virus (from which Pterry is an AI nanocloud spinoff)–I will be gloriously invincible.

So I’m not worried. Much. Graaack!

– Zeke K-Holmes

Subject: Today’s meetup: SPECTACULAR!
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: May 6, 2023 at 8:17 PM

[SIDEBAR: Listening to an album by rap artist Key Glock as I type this missive. Here’s the song playing right now: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xs4JfuTbsio


Ayy, you know I got the juicemane
I just hopped up out that Lambo Batmobile like Bruce Wayne
I just dropped two hundred on my gang, that shit was pocket change
And three hundred for my chain, that’s a Bentley Mulsanne
(Skrrt, skrrt, skrrt, skrrt, skrrt)
Anything, switchin’ lanes (Yuh)
Diamonds on my neck and wrist fighting, MMA (Yuh)
(Diamonds on my neck and wrist fighting, MMA)
Yuh, young nigga balling, balling, balling, NBA

Not like I’m gonna MEMORIZE the shit, but there ya go, Wattson! I have no idea what juicemane (pronounced “joos-mayn”) means, unless it’s a variation on “juiceman,” which the Urban Dictionary defines as:

“An individual who is extremely jacked and attends college. He majors in juicemanology, and minors in weight lifting, alcohol, and girls. He does pull-ups for days at a time without even needing water or food — just protein. He has no respect for anyone or anything, and has probably dabbled with steroids.”

Be that as it may:]

This afternoon’s meetup was the best one ever, thus far! Deek was eager to show off his new speaker:

“I just wanna prove to you I’m not jivin’ when I say what I need the money for. Check out the dials on this bitch!”

When he said that, I was crouched down to hug and scritch the pups, so was a bit annoyed I’d have to disengage for a minute in order to stand up and appease their master. He showed me a 3-foot-tall speaker wrapped in a green trash bag with the top open, and resting in a vertical shopping cart. I’m guessing it weighs 35 to 40 pounds.

“It set me back for jus’ a hunner-fordee dollah ’cause jus’ as good as the one I was gonna get for twice the price! So I also got this granny cart for thirdee, and a new pair-a Nikes,” he eagerly explained while tilting a raised foot back and forth to flaunt his black and red footwear. I imagine the Nikes were right up there with the speaker, money-wise. My heart went “cringe” but my vocal cords did not:

“Nice sneakers,” I replied with faux enthusiasm, only because I saw no good point in damping his joyful spirit.

“Looks like a great system, too,” I added while placing a hand on the speaker to caress the warm black plastic that had an appealing, brushed surface instead of glossy-slick. Its corners were not sharp but rounded, which I also favored.

He then rattled on about the battery life and how the salesperson tried to talk him into buying another speaker for “thirdee dollah” more, claiming it was a better quality overall…but Deek held firm.

“And see this,” he continued with enthusiastic patter. “All the card slots are on top!” And with that, he inserted a new music chip I just gave him per his request when he called up to my window.

Somewhere mixed in our badinage was my declaration that I don’t really care WHAT he spends the money on, so long as it makes him happy…and I trust him anyway. He looked GREAT, Wattson! Neatly dressed in a pair of dark-brown denims and a gray, long-sleeve pullover covered by a white summer shirt dotted with little blue and green patterns that I didn’t bother to make out what, exactly, they depicted. He also wore a heavy-chained, gold necklace with a metallic pendant like an iron cross, though I didn’t pay it any mind either, so it coulda been some OTHER symbol of like shape. Nice, short-clipped haircut, too, though I DO miss that lovely, golden-brown hair when it’s grown out down to his shoulders. It complements his hazel eyes and glints in the sodium haze of the streetlamps. But the most important thing of all is this:

He looks fukkin HEALTHY!

I made a point of telling him he’s RIGHT about what’s goin’ down in the Tenderloin, that it IS “boots on the ground” instead of a surreptitious approach…and that they ARE going for the small-time dealers as well. Which only serves to instill a heightened degree of paranoia for ALL residents in that district! And doesn’t REALLY attack the core of the problem. Know how he responded, Wattson?

“They need to get to the small fry first, ask who their distributor is, and move up from there.”

I didn’t bother to argue the point (how that’s the WRONG way to go, it’s been tried many times before and always fails), seeing as he wouldn’t understand anyway, and his heart IS in the right place regarding the scourge of fentanyl. In short: I’m immeasurably PROUD of My Cajun Devil!

So I fed and sat the mutts while their master went to the public loo by Chevron to shave and wash up and, I guess, purchase some grub. He was back in forty minutes. I heard him from way up the block ’cause his boombox was blasting away. And, of course, so did the dogs who immediately stood up, gazed in that direction with curly tails a-waggin’ prestissimo. I stood up then, to watch him approach and figured:

“Soon as he gets near enough I’ll start to boogie to the rap!

Alas, once he was only several doors distant he stopped to turn off the speaker. Oh, well, another time I suppose…though I’m sure it will be soon, like DAYS soon!

Our conversation today covered various topics. No need to break it all down…sufficient to say our palaver was like old friends who enjoy each other’s company so much they get together several times a week over coffee and hearty laughs. While preparing to take off, someone he knows appeared before him. He was tall, skinny and slightly bent over: an Ichabod Crane type, only with what appeared to be streaks of red lipstick all over his face.

“Hey, what happened to you?” Deek addressed. “Ya got beat up?”

I don’t know what the fellow said in reply, since the traffic din and his mumbly voice made that impossible. But they talked about SOMEthing for a few brief moments, then Deek took off. Since Ichabod was now standing right in front of the entrance to my building, I accompanied Deek to the corner, told him he’s standing too close to the gate, so I’m gonna wait till he leaves. Whereupon he said:

“He’s on tranq…that’s why his face is such a mess!”

Tranq, Wattson: the flesh eating drug, often cut with fentanyl! No wonder Deek walked away so quickly.

As we reached the corner I turned around to see I could now return hovel without obstruction. As I wished him a good day and began to proceed homeward, he called to me:

“That’s Scampy’s boyfriend. Well, one of ’em!”

“Scary!” I declared, then disappeared deep into the maw of Hotel California North, a close cousin of the leviathan that swallowed Jonah.

– Zeke K-Holmes

P.S.: I almost forgot to mention that when Deek started to move on (but before I realized Ichabod had thwarted my entry) I called to him, wished him happy trails and how fantastic he’s doin’ these days. “You’re a leader!” I hollered. He grinned, waved a dismissive hand and said something like “Oh pish!” So I tossed him a second compliment: “You set an example! Bravo!”

P.P.S: I switched back to Monday morning to send my email off to Magdalena, after realizing it’s best she see it ASAP.


Close to the end of our visit I told him I need to shop for groceries at Trader Joe’s because they’re cheaper than around here, or most anywhere else for that matter. So I won’t be home Monday and Tuesday until 2 PM…but I’ll try to bring it down to just one of those days.

“Oh, you don’t have to tell me, I’ll be fine,” he kindly replied.



While we were walking towards the corner he made the most thoughtful remark:

“I know how much you care about the dogs, so I promise I’ll drop by frequently, even when it’s not for money.”

“Yes, Deek, I love them very much, they’re the nicest thing to ever happen to me,” I replied. “But please keep in mind I care about YOU, too! We’re ALL important to each other.”

Subject: ChatGPT gave me the answer when legal counsel did not!
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: May 6, 2023 at 10:55 PM

First, my question:

When there are two defendants in a lawsuit, and one is dismissed because he is judgement proof, but nonetheless filed a general denial because the complaints against him were false and outrageous…will the other defendant’s attorney get to see the dismissed defendant’s list of rebuttals he sent to the plaintiff’s attorney per his request?

Now, ChatGPT’s reply:

I am not a lawyer, but I can provide some general information. In a lawsuit where multiple defendants are involved, each defendant typically has their own attorney representing their interests. The attorney for one defendant generally does not have automatic access to the documents or information provided by another defendant’s attorney, unless they are part of the same legal team or there is a specific reason for the disclosure.

If the dismissed defendant filed a General Denial and sent a list of rebuttals to the plaintiff’s attorney, it is not guaranteed that the attorney for the other defendant will automatically receive or have access to that information. The information shared between the dismissed defendant and their attorney is typically protected by attorney-client privilege and may not be shared with others without the client’s consent.

However, it is possible that during the course of the lawsuit, the attorney for the other defendant may seek to obtain that information through legal means, such as discovery requests or subpoenas, if they believe it is relevant to their defense. The rules regarding discovery can vary depending on jurisdiction and the specific circumstances of the case.


So there ya go, Wattson! I definitely can NOT offer the landlord’s attorney a copy of my rebuttals, dammit. So I hope he goes the discovery route, or subpoenas me to testify if the first approach doesn’t work out. But I ask you:

Why on earth didn’t any counsel I sought who heard me out, TELL me that simple answer? Well, Prentiss (the “Personal Injury Angel” in my tale) DID say that Ablablah’s attorney may very well have me testify. Yet he did NOT state it is unlawful for me to offer him my list of rebuttals.

Well, at least I have my answer, and there is nothing more I can do to assist Ablablah in their defense, and thereby more strongly secure my OWN protection from scoundrels. Landlord’s attorney is not the sharpest tac in the box. However, plaintiff’s attorney strikes me as even MORE pathetic.

There is always the hope plaintiff’s attorney will simply DROP the case…for which I have provided MORE than ample cause to do just that. However, dismissing ME will give plaintiff’s attorney every good reason to hide my rebuttals from Ablablah. But he ALSO knows that IF I am subpoenaed his goose shall be cooked to a fine crisp.

But there’s also the likelihood of an out-of-court settlement via case management. I DO pray, however, that Ablablah’s attorney does NOT go that route and fights it to the shores of Dunkirk. In which case I’ll have my day in court. Something I’ve never been through before, though I sincerely appreciate how it works as an apt metaphor of my life, under the rules laid out by My Bodhisattva Premise.

– Zeke K-Holmes

P.S.: Rather than attempt to access my rebuttals, can’t the landlord’s attorney simply ask me what happened, from my perspective? At some kind of meeting…case management perhaps? After all, I am representing myself, that is: I am my OWN attorney! So I still have questions, and at this point all I can say is: THIS unfrozen caveman lawyer pilgrim is perplexed by it all. Starting with the shoes.


May 3, 2023

[Brindlekin Tales – Book 7: Chapter 24]

Image generated by Craiyon AI

Subject: Not the brightest bulb in the pack!
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: April 26, 2023 at 1:12 AM

One more thing about our conversation:

Once I affirmed with plaintiff’s attorney that my only income is Social Security, he asked me: “Well, can’t you pay him a little something every month?” I detected a twinge of frustration.

“Of course not!” I exclaimed at the absurdity of his query with a suppressed guffaw. “That’s outta the question!”

For as you know, Wattson, it’s ILLEGAL to garnish someone’s Social Security, no matter WHAT the sum…he should know that! Well, I’m sure he does but he went strictly by the script, I suppose. The bodhisattva script. Having fun at my expense, methinks!

Attached is a colorful rendering of Pterry Pterodactyl conjured up by Craiyon AI image generator. The best one in the lot. The used pterodactyl lot, that is. This one has less than 40,000 miles on it ’cause previously owned by a little old granny bruja who doesn’t go out very much! She has a fear of heights.

– Zeke K-Holmes

Subject: Pterry just told me:
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: April 26, 2023 at 12:41 PM

“BTW Zeke, those aren’t origami cranes you so graciously showered upon Wattson…they’re origami pterodactyls! Du-uuh!”

I shoulda known, Wattson. Hope they didn’t get TOO badly entangled in your rain-barrel-water-drenched hair, Rapunzel!

“FYI Lucasio stands for light, or Lucifer, or lucky…but root word is light,” Pterry added with a twinkle in his jet-black peepers. “Graaak!”

“Hmm, an attorney named Lucifer,” I mused. “Isn’t there a recent TV series about that?”

“Not quite, but close enough,” he affirmed. “The storyline is the devil abandons hell for Los Angeles (poor choice in MY estimation, shoulda been Barstow), opens his own nightclub and winds up a consultant to the LAPD. But that’s just a fantasy play, Zekester, whereas YOUR plaintiff’s attorney is the Real McCoy! Graaak, graaak!”

“Surely you don’t mean THE devil,” I replied, “since there are MANY devils, right?”

“Well, I conjecture that monotheistic Satanists allow for only one,” Pterry explained. “But since the one and only Lucifer (praise be unto He who adores us all) can manifest his presence in multiple bodies at the same moment with no limit to their number, I’d say the argument is ludicrous, wouldn’t you? Graaak!”

I scratched my head, perplexed as usual by Pterry’s latest mind game: “That makes sense, I guess, but what does this attorney being The Devil Himself–or just one of MANY devils, depending on which side of the Looking Glass you’re on–imply for my OWN destiny regarding this lawsuit and, by extension, My Beloved Brindlekin and their master?”

“Everything glorious!” replied my leather-winged amigo. “Graaak! Do you have a pin?”

I told him let me look, and rummaged through one of my small, plastic bins where I keep sundry items such as rubber bands, paper clips, staples, Velcro tabs and such.

“Yes, here’s one!” I exclaimed, and handed it to Pterry. “Whatta ya gonna do with it?”

“That’s for ME to know, and YOU to find out! Graaak!” he taunted, then activated his electron-microscopic lens embedded into his left eye and stared intently at the pin’s head, tilting it this way and that with precise, tiny movements.

“What are you doing NOW?” I queried.

“Counting! Hush!” he whispered while keeping his left eye diligently focused on the pin’s head. “Eleven, twelve, thirteen…”

“Oh, I see!” I blurted in sudden comprehension. “The classic question how many angels can dance on the head of a pin applies to their opposite as well!”

“Now yer cookin’,” Pterry softly answered while remaining in deep concentration: “Twenty-two, twenty-three, twenty-four…”

I gave up and vanished from our little time-warp cone of privacy once he ascended into the realm of the deca-pentagonal and beyond, because I had better things to do than endure Pterry’s trickster ways. He certainly takes his humor FAR beyond the pale, and in this case I could easily discover him a hundred billion gazillion years from now, where he’d STILL be present in this temporal bubble, counting devils on the head of a pin! (I suppose at this point I should call it the head of a “pun.”)

– Zeke K-Holmes

Subject: They DON’T have the video in question…
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: April 27, 2023 at 12:10 PM

…either that, or Kevin or Plaintiff’s Attorney may be withholding it. At least, that is MY conclusion, based on the claim that one of the dogs “ripped off his shoe.” For the video would CLEARLY show the Plaintiff was NOT wearing shoes, but cheap plastic slide slippers (or thong type, my memory is not clear on that trivial detail). Hence:

Using the video to prove an “attack” occurred would totally nullify the claim that Plaintiff’s shoe was ripped off…’cause no shoe in the first place! And that the phrase “ripped off” (along with the word “shoe”) was obviously a manipulative exaggeration with intent to persuade the court in Plaintiff’s favor. I believe the legal term for that is “perjury.”

Though what do I know, Wattson, I’m just an unfrozen caveman lawyer frightened and confused by your world, including this diabolical innovation called “shoes” that make me stumble on the courthouse steps and my toes to ache by day’s end!


– Zeke K-Holmes

Subject: Deek Update (plus other splendiferous events and thoughts to report)
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: April 27, 2023 at 10:02 PM

Deek finally showed up Monday evening (after vanishing since last Thursday): perfect timing since my lawsuit fiasco and my struggles around it had come to an end earlier that same day. Coincidence? I don’t think so, since I only told him I have a meeting downtown on Friday, so will be away from home until 2 PM. Those three days (plus Monday morning) were vital to focusing all my attention on the lawsuit…so I greatly appreciate his prolonged disappearance.

And as I said in a previous missive, he’s begun lavishing more affection on the pups than ever before! For on that day I witnessed such kindness, post-doggy breakfast:

Once the furries had licked their bowls clean, Flaco looked up at her master with tail wagging.

“Happy now?” he addressed her while seated close by. “Tummy all full, start the day right?” He then pulled her into his arms for a prolonged embrace. Then turned to her brother who was just standing there, watching the new day unfold:

“Lucky!” he called, and the demi-dachshund turned to look at him. “Ya got some food on yer chin, ya look like a slob, c’mere!” So Lucky approached and with that, his master brushed a bit of kibble off his chin with an index finger.

And yesterday morning Deek showed up to collect $40 (in advance of course), the last of this month’s payment. Offered to let me walk the mutts on my way to the Chase branch, which was heavenly…and thoughtful. They were high spirited and playful the entire way there and back, so happy to be with me again. I paused midway to the bank to feed them treats, which I always keep stashed in my small backpack. Along with a roll of poopy bags and a pair of martingale collars, which I placed ’round their necks shortly after Deek handed me their leashes.

During our stroll to the ATM outlet I wondered if Deek expected me to rush the dogs in both directions so I wouldn’t take “too” long to suit his anxious nature exacerbated by crystal. But as far as I’m concerned, walking the dogs includes allowing them to pause and sniff about to their satisfaction. As well as honoring Lucky’s penchant for scratching his back and sides along a rough wall first one way, then another, with such joyful exuberance it brightens my heart…as it does for anyone walking by. Or flopping on his back and squirming upon the sidewalk for the same delightful reason.

“Well,” I figured to myself, “that’s just too bad, the doggies’ happiness is above and beyond all other matters in this world, including Deek’s childish mood swings. If he says to me where the fuck have YOU been, I’ll turn a deaf ear and that’ll be that!”

Well, Wattson, you’ll be pleased to know that did NOT occur; he was just glad to receive his allowance, and that I spent some quality time with the pooches. What a change from his previous behavior, I’m proud of the handsome devil!

After surrendering the leashes back to their master’s hand I returned hovel to prepare the elves’ breakfast, per his request. By the time I stepped back outside, Millie had joined him. A gaunt but short, fifty-something homeless black woman with a raucously amiable nature…and sandpaper pipes, possibly acquired from smoking MORE than just tobacco over the decades. That morning she sported a flat, dark-turquoise mask with metallic silver eyebrows. Slits for eyes, nose and mouth. It covered her entire face from chin to forehead, and was held firm by an elastic band.

Well let me tell you, good physician: they were really hammering away at each other with the most RUDE accusations and insults! Calling each other expletives like muthuh-fukuh, bitch, niggah and threatening to beat the shit out of each other. Though with grinning faces and sporadic chuckles, showing me it was all in good sport. So, rather than interrupt their surly badinage, I simply nodded my head in greeting, set down the bowls, pet the dogs briefly, then returned upstairs.

In fact, from the humble confines of my hovel I could easily hear them squawking away like angry macaws fighting over a choice mango that just fell to the ground. Some ten minutes later their faux berating morphed into guffaws, chortles and silly snorts. Of course I was curious, so rose from my work station to peer out the window. Upon which I espied Millie with legs pressing against his back where he was seated, in such a way as to massage his shoulder blades with her knees while rocking him from side to side. She still had her mask on, BTW.

I was pleased to see Flaco & Lucky in full snooze mode, stretched out and soaking up the deliciously warm sunlight upon a large sheet of cardboard. Oblivious to the foibles of humanity, including those of Millie and Deek.

Some forty minutes or so later Millie departed, and Deek shortly after that. He left behind a loose pile of wrinkled clothing beside the parking meter, and some other debris like an empty juice box, half a fashion magazine, a pair of hospital slippers still sealed in cellophane wrapping, and a defunct torch lighter. So I decided to clean it all up, and to my surprise discovered a very NICE long-sleeve shirt that would fit me well! It was made of thick material and, though black and red plaid, was NOT flannel.

So, planning to bring it upstairs and toss it into the hamper, I set it atop the nearby trash bin while cleaning up the rest. But while bent over performing this chore, I heard a man’s voice call to me:

“Hey that’s a nice shirt!”

I then stood up to lay my orbs upon a strappingly GORGEOUS fellow around 5-foot-9 with silver eyes, thick shocks of auburn hair fading into gray that fell to the shoulders, a full beard with complementary mustache, and the sweetest smile you’ll ever see. With a full set of pearly whites to boot, in spite of his obviously being homeless. Obvious because his bluejeans and sweater, while clean and attractive, were a loose fit in a way that someone with a roof over their head would never be caught dead in.

Concealing a ravenous thirst to strip him naked in seconds flat and lick him all over, I replied with a friendly grin: “Thanks, I like it, too!” Thinking he was talking about my short-sleeve summer shirt which is also a plaid design, though multicolored in red, blue and dark gray.

“No, that one over there!” he exclaimed, directing my lustful gaze towards the shirt I had placed on the trash bin. “Do you want it?”

“Oh, THAT shirt,” I declared. “Sure, you can have it.” I then grabbed it and held it out to him.

“Oh, thank you SO much,” he replied in a most affectionate tone, collected the shirt from my hand and wrapped one arm around me in a sweetly FIRM side hug, one hand resting upon my left hip, the other, my shoulder on the same side.

I swear, Wattson, I coulda collapsed in those arms! The GUNS on that dude: slobberingly impressive. He must work out, one way or another, in spite of his destitute situation. And no spring chicken HE…I’m guessing around 48.

But instead of swooning, I returned the embrace, laid my head on his shoulder and pat him lightly on his back, then caressed those shoulder blades and the fine expanse between. I even pressed a palm upon his stomach: this guy is RIPPED, Wattson!

Upon separating some seconds later, he thanked me again and told me those are his FAVORITE colors on a shirt. And that was that. STILL stunned, I watched him trot away, observed that his gluteus maximi checked out superbly as well, matching the rest of his extraordinary physique. I coulda plunged right in. FABULOUS!

I then returned hovel and whacked off. Twice.

Where did he come from, I wonder? He just appeared outta the blue, never saw him before. So I decided to write it off to yet another angelic visitation as I have been blessed to know numerous times before (though not recently), disguised as a denizen of the mean streets of San Franshitsco.

Odin visited me once in a dream-vision, twenty-three years ago. A dream-vision in fact, that GAVE me the entire concept which I first called “NeoPositivity,” but renamed it “The Bodhisattva Premise” just two or three years back! Could this have been Odin’s SECOND visit, this time in the flesh? At any rate, let’s move on:

So this afternoon, as I stepped out to purchase some bananas and milk, I saw the building manager had just entered the lobby, pushing on a walker inch by inch, with considerable effort. Accompanied by what I presume to be a nurse’s aide, or maybe just a kind fellow serving in that capacity.

“Good afternoon, Kevin,” I addressed him. He slowly raised his head and replied with a smile: “Oh, hi Zeke!”

Once I passed him and neared the front gate, I muttered into the air: “We REALLY need that elevator!”

Apparently, the two laborers diddling with wires and gears in the open elevator heard me and one of them called out: “Soon!”

To which I replied before closing the gate behind me: “Allah be praised!” Onto the next subject:

Obvious to me now, why I got the deadline date wrong regarding this lawsuit. It was so my victory would be that much sweeter…and a final cliffhanger in this latest tale that my readers shall relish for time immemorial! So, yes, my bodhisattva guardians intentionally mucked up my mind in order to accomplish this outcome. Next (and final) topic:


For in one breath he declared in last Friday’s show (upon introducing my latest parable):


Which is the umpteenth time he’s said he doesn’t understand why I put up with Deek’s rotten behavior. Yet less than a minute later as he gets into the story, he reads the following line:


My conclusion:

I have literally SPELLED OUT my reason for dealing with Deek’s scummy mistreatment NUMEROUS TIMES in my tales, yet Marshall refuses to acknowledge that. Being as he’s highly intelligent, then he must be having a little fun with me. Typical bodhisattva guardian sense of humor. No other explanation makes sense. Be that as it may:

I can’t WAIT till he gets to my April tales, which should be in a month or two from now. Because it’s my DOUBLE LAWSUIT VICTORY cycle. But even before that, he’ll soon be coming to Deek’s finally acquiring a tiny cabin. So, between that and the lawsuit triumph, he’ll see just how my long-suffering patience has paid off to benefit the doggies immensely, and brought the eyes of attorneys upon my activism on behalf of LGBT indigents. Showing how my inspiration triggered by Flaco & Lucky’s boundless affection has paid off handsomely regarding my OWN personal growth as well.

– Zeke K-Holmes

Subject: PERFECT image of Odin to go with that tale!
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: April 27, 2023 at 11:29 PM

‘Cause THAT’S EXACTLY HOW THE FUCKER I MET TODAY LOOKED! Including those fading auburn locks cascading to the shoulders. All the other images show the Norse deity much older, without the beatific face shown here…and the silver eye! (He only has one eye, as plucking out the other was the price he paid for wisdom.)

So now I conjecture that Millie’s mask was a premonition of Odin’s visit: the silver eyebrows hinting at the color of his eye, and the blue sheen of the mask represented the sky, since Odin IS a sky god! He’s also a shapeshifter, hence quite capable of appearing with both eyes intact. Conclusion:

Both she and Deek KNEW he was soon to show up…and he did, just minutes after they departed!

– Zeke K-Holmes

P.S.: Before posting this email I asked ChatGPT is Odin a sky god. Here’s the answer:

“Yes, Odin is a sky god in Norse mythology. He is often associated with the sky, wisdom, war, and death. Odin is also known as the ‘Allfather’ as he was considered the father of all gods in Norse mythology. He was believed to live in the highest of the nine worlds, Asgard, and was often depicted as a one-eyed old man with a long beard and wearing a cloak and a broad hat. Odin was also associated with wisdom, poetry, and magic.”

Then just for the heck of it I asked ChatGPT, “Are YOU a sky god?” And the reply was (hold onto your bowler, Wattson):

Click here for a larger view.

Subject: Sweet Old Dog…and 3 more pics!
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: April 28, 2023 at 10:44 AM

Click here for a larger view.

Pic 1: I see this man with his lovely lab almost every morning while sitting on the steps of a corner shop across from my building. He has seen me with Flaco & Lucky numerous times and, even though they bark up a fury at his furry charge (who remains totally at ease) he is kind and has a good chuckle over them. Here, the elderly canine is looking at me with fondness. I’ve always had an affinity with dogs, often eager to greet me even though it’s the first time we’ve met. This includes those dogs who normally avoid strangers.

Click here for a larger view.

Pic 2: This snapshot was residing on my smartphone, almost forgotten. As was the next pic. Charming little scene right below my window, eh, Wattson?

[Just teasing you, Marshall, as I figured you’d pause in your narration to make some remark about what’s the point of my mentioning a photo without bothering to describe its contents. But if you didn’t, well then I blew it…I’m a fourth wall failure!]

Click here for a larger view.

Pic 3: Same day as pic 2. Flaco’s sweetness prevails!

Click here for a larger view.

Pic 4: A cropped enlargement of pic 3, so you can better see Lucky peering at me from inside the box. What darling angels!

– Zeke K-Holmes

Subject: Sweet Old Dog…and 3 more pics! [ERRATA]
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: April 28, 2023 at 10:55 AM

Where I say:

“A cropped enlargement of pic 2”

it should have said:

“A cropped enlargement of pic 3”

Sorry for the confusion, but my world is changing so fast I can barely keep up! The lotus flower of my soul has begun to blossom. Ain’t THAT a glorious thing to behold, Wattson!

– Zeke K-Holmes

P.S.: I believe at this point that Timothy di Palma’s prophecy of a wormhole tunnel from my building to downtown Mendocino is more than just an amusing fantasy! See ya soon, my guiding angel!

Re: Sweet Old Dog…and 3 more pics!
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: April 28, 2023 at 2:50 PM

> Beautiful dog-souls abound!

A “Woof!” a day keeps the doctor away. You can quote me on that.

– Zeke K-Holmes

Subject: My x230 Thinkpad Died!
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: April 29, 2023 at 1:06 AM

Well, didn’t die per se, but won’t boot up thanks to “fan error.” I would get that now and then, but only because it was too hot because the day was hot. But it can also happen if too much dust gets in there, or the fan itself needs replacement. Only problem is you need to take the ultrabook entirely apart to get to the fan to clean or replace it. Which IS a tedium, but I could do it if only some of the back screws weren’t so firmly lodged I CAN’T REMOVE THEM!

I discovered this two years ago when I went to remove the back in order to add extra storage with an SDD chip. I tried everything in the book to get those tiny screws turning, via a Youtube video that gave various suggestions on removing stuck screws from a laptop: WD-40 (of course), rubber band snippet between screwdriver and screw, and so on. NOTHING WORKS!

I’m able to open a slot within the back to upgrade RAM, so that was good since I could then swap 8 gigabytes for 16. At any rate, I checked out Amazon for a refurbished Thinkpad, and found one for $162 including tax (shipping is free). It’s the x250, so a bit more recent…it came out in 2015 while my present system dates back to 2012. And the one I ordered has Bluetooth built in and twice the storage. Plus a webcam that I prefer not to have, but ya never know: I may need one for Zoom calls, seeing as my popularity will soon soar, if my prognostication is correct.

The new ultrabook will arrive in just two days! Meanwhile, I have my Chromebook connected to a second monitor, as a temporary replacement for the x230. And my good ol’ Android tablet has replaced the Chromebook for playing videos and podcasts on the side. Right now it’s resonating Memo of the Weird, like an oasis in the Castro.

Which show I had planned to start listening to right when it went on the air at 9 o’clock…but my x230 suddenly shutting down and my having to rearrange my work station distracted me. So it wasn’t until 11:30 that I realized “Oh, Marshall’s show is on right now!”

Wow, this is kewl, he just started reading “The Shadow Box,” right when I was typing the paragraph above…what a thrill! Started around 12:44, I’ll be sure to splice it outta the podcast so you can have a copy of it yourself. Anyway: back to my dead ultrabook:

I’ve had this fantasy for the past quintuple years where my faithful x230, upon which I composed my Brindlekin Tales right from Chapter 1, would still be churning ’em out when I become famous. So maybe its fritzing out on me is actually a good omen! Seems to be right on time, in light of my extraordinary lawsuit adventures that I predict will propel my ascension to public kudos.

At least my new system will still be a Thinkpad…I’m loyal to the brand ’cause sturdy, a real workhorse and you can always install Linux on it, unlike so many other laptop makers, where it’s an iffy proposition at best.

I still have $197 in the bank, so I’ll be fine ’cause only five days to go till my next Soc. Sec. deposit. Pandemic food stamp bonus of $200 all gone, so I’m now back down to a paltry $22 per month!

I’m not particularly upset about having to cough up moolah for a new notebook (and the hassle setting it up entails), simply because my recent victories (and the extraordinary near-future repercussions they imply) have got me walkin’ on cloud 9 no matter what!


– Zeke K-Holmes

Subject: And thar she blows!
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: April 29, 2023 at 7:21 PM

Proof of Service, showed up in my mailbox this afternoon. Woo-hoo!

Re: And thar she blows!
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: April 30, 2023 at 11:01 AM

> Bada-bing!

That’s what I get for standing up for myself. What next…keys to the city, parade in my honor, penthouse loft in the clock tower overlooking the bay, honorary District Attorney? Oh the humanity! You can call me Mr. Big from now on.

– Zeke K-Holmes

P.S.: I was only waiting for this moment to arise! It certainly TOOK long enough, Wattson…I’M FUKKIN 72 YEARS OLD FER CRIPES SAKE!

Subject: WHOA!
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: May 1, 2023 at 6:42 PM


At least, not in my heart. He’s revealed himself to be a capitalist warthog, per a conversation we had two days earlier, where he works at Rosenberg’s. FYI I also learned that day, he hails from a wealthy family back in India, quelle surprise. (And he’s NOT Sikh, but Hindu, though irrelevant to this present discussion.) I was tempted to leapfrog over the counter and strangle him, but my better angels held me back. Totally heartless against the working class, “just get a better job if you’re not happy with the one you have” and “unions are a curse” kinda thinking.

And I assure you, Wattson, I did my very BEST to lambaste his crude perspective as courteously as possible before exiting with my small cup of golden brown elixir and blueberry muffin! But to no avail, for another customer stepped in right at that precise moment, and cut me off posthaste (because, you know, Filthy Lucre is king, silencing all who are not his simpering toadies). A rich little elderly queer (all of 5-foot-2, keys clattering by his hips ’cause most likely a homeowner to boot), thus no better a hominid than Pallas.

No wonder he never compliments me on my homeless outreach projects (which I’ve brought up now and then) with nothing more than a glassy stare in response. Which served as a reminder for yours truly that I’m dealing with shopkeepers who are right-wing for the most part. Ha-ha, and to think they have to put up with THIS brazen, flower-child pilgrim! ‘Cause they need the MONEY…mine, along with everyone else’s, and that pandemic boost in food stamps sure helped BLOAT their coffers while it lasted. But then, once returned hovel while sipping on my coffee and taking fat bites of the muffin, I thought:

“NOW where can I go for my morning java and muffin, assuming a wall of enmity has imposed itself between us two?”

But no worries, for the next morning when I stepped in, Pallas was his usual chirpy self. Methinks he was having a bit of fun at my expense, good doctor! IOW yet another bodhisattva angel in my life. Though the coffee was shockingly bitter…so unlike Rosenberg’s to brew such a caustic output…in fact it’s never happened before!

“I made it especially strong today,” he announced, “since it’s cold outside and people LIKE that extra kick in bad weather!”

Well it wasn’t THAT cold, just a bracing, foggy chill. Besides which we San Franshitscans have recently had to endure more than three months of truly FRIGID weather, yet their coffee remained kind and flavorful on the tongue. Just the way I like it.

“Not me,” I replied while lifting the pot from its nook. “I’ll have to add extra CREAM to it, or it’ll burn a hole in my stomach and leave a sour taste in my mouth for hours!”

So I now ask myself, Wattson: what’s up with the absinthian concoction…Pallas’s subtle way of getting back at me? I wager so, since the coffee resumed its amiable character by the next day.


He hails from the city of Qingdao, in the Shandong Province, a rather AFFLUENT region in China! From Wikipedia:

“Shandong is one of China’s richest provinces, and its economic development focuses on large enterprises with well-known brand names. Shandong is the biggest industrial producer and one of the top manufacturing provinces in China.”

So this fellow, just like our Pallas, does not number among the poor, huddled masses fleeing oppression and poverty, Wattson. These are the STINKY RICH running at breakneck speed to worship the fatted golden calf of capitalism at the feet of Ba’al! Fort Knox is their “Ka’aba,” so to speak.

On top of that, I’m guessing he’s a drama queen who fits in very well with the Castro clique of wealthy queers…the kind of ass hats who go out of their way to be offended at the drop of a tiara. Especially against those they perceive as surviving on a low income. A foul attitude I am often up against, and have been for years, by the very same community I fled to for REFUGE way back in 1973!

But again, I must apply my Bodhisattva Premise to this situation. Thus, the plaintiff is likewise running me through another gauntlet to sharpen my skills in turning each crisis into a positive outcome for all parties involved. And deflecting (or at least vanquishing) any negative emotion on MY part. In such an interpretation then, ALL drama queen attacks upon yours truly are nothing more than helping me along my path…and in so doing I also become the hero.


And he REALLY rubbed it in this time, as if he KNEW my gripe over his clueless declarations about Deek’s perturbations. (Have you been talking with him? No, you haven’t, I’m sure…this is something more akin to telepathy.) He’s RIBBING me, Wattson…across the airwaves! Here’s the clip from his latest podcast, that you may enjoy the spoof more richly.

FYI: on his WordPress blog for last Friday’s show he listed a whole string of local authors and put you, your bipedal companion, and yours truly one right after another, like so:

“…Wattson, Erwyn, Ezekiel, and associated dachshund siblings Flaco and Lucky…”

Isn’t that sweet, he threw the PUPS into the mix! And get this, Wattson: he read Erwyn’s piece, yours, and mine, all in the same show. WE’RE GOING TO HOLLYWOOD! In a van I guess, and park it somewhere down by the river close to the studios where we’ll be the honored recipients of their smorgasbord scraps. Good times!


As of a few days ago I’ve replaced my “Maria Maria” victory dance with Michael Jackson’s “You are not alone.” Which is the only truly GREAT song he’s achieved, in my not-so-humble opinion. I otherwise don’t care for his music, but THIS particular work of brilliance makes for a soothing, joyful balm for THIS embattled pilgrim! I’ve been playing it CONSTANTLY every day now (and into the dark shadows of Nyx), as background to my Internet activities, including composing this email. Which electronic missives, as you so well know, provide the canvass for my prosaic strokes of the brush.

[SIDEBAR: I’ve also been getting deeper and deeper into all the fine rap and hip-hop music I’m finding on Youtube. Looks like Deek’s musical preference has rubbed onto me, at last! There’s some really good shit out there…a LOT in fact! Highly spirited with intelligent lyrics that spit in the eye of elitism, capitalism and violence. Such as “Where is the Love?” by the Black Eyed Peas, among so MANY others.

Honestly, Wattson, I’m absolutely JONESING to dance these days…great exercise as well, for which my humble abode serves me peachy-keen, thank you very much! At any rate, my heart so brimming with a serious case of dancing fever will, I guess, eventually spill over onto the streets. Probably when some houseless troubadour with a keyboard, guitar or drums, or a BOOMBOX, shows up on my block, and I’ll step out to stir up the mojo, get everyone else to join in!

NOW I grok Deek’s love for the ghetto subculture…and the rap music born from it!]

Like Glob’s own cherubs crooning from THIS pilgrim’s bosom, that I am NOT alone, never have been, never will be. PROVEN by these devoted attorneys who’ve counseled me FOR FREE, along with online guidance from legal forums such as thelaw.com, and the kindness of strangers I’ve met along the way (including those who live on the streets)! Hindsight is indeed a lovely thing, Wattson. There should be a SAINT, a legendary HERO or a GOD for that.

Wait a minute, good physician, there IS a god of hindsight (I just discovered)…and, once again, leave it to the Greeks:


From Mythopedia (quote): “Epimetheus’ chief attribute was his foolishness. In most stories, he serves as a foil to his cleverer brother Prometheus, with Prometheus’ ‘forethought’ and foresight standing in sharp contrast to Epimetheus’ ‘afterthought’ and hindsight.”

Well THAT’S not very flattering! Maybe I can find some OTHER deity of hindsight who puts a nicer spin to it, seeing as hindsight is not ALWAYS (or even usually) born of foolish behavior, but is a culmination of experiences and observations that lead to some kind of revelation. So let’s see…aha, here we go:

Huginn and Muninn, Odin’s ravens (so we’re back to HIM again)! For their names mean “thought” and “memory,” respectively…or something akin to that, ’cause more expansive in their roles than those simple words convey. They are an EXTENSION of Odin’s psyche, in other words his eyes and ears.

Odin is also a SHAMAN by the way…so his appearance before me as a homeless fellow makes perfect sense. Seeing as I have often speculated over the concept that some who dwell on the streets may actually be shamans. And there is a precedent for that, since in many ancient cultures there are tales of this or that deity descending to earth in the guise of a humble laborer or beggar.

Apollo was known for that, who appeared from time to time as a shepherd to eavesdrop on humanity and learn of their needs and desires…and report back to Pater Zeus, often with grievances aGAINST him. Which pagan “son of God,” I believe, was absorbed into Christianity as their savior…often depicted tending a herd of sheep.


By “there” I mean already conscious of the bodhisattva realm, or whatever you’d like to call it. Explains how he can approach each day with vigor, and is rarely bored…in spite of his being a denizen of the asphalt. Furthermore, he blithely accepts whatever bad weather may come and, rather than seek shelter, surrenders to the rain, no matter how turbulent the storm. Of course, he’s since tempered that for the sake of the pups. And, now that he has that tiny cabin, what remains of his street life is far less rough edged. So he can maintain the BEST of it without compromising his health or safety, and that of the brindlekin.

Ergo: IT’S ALL AN ACT, this difficult behavior he often flings at me (though far less often any more), for my own benefit, that I grow in spirit. He IS my chief bodhisattva guardian, as was Larkin previously, and Randolph before then.

And also explains PERFECTLY why my eviction attorney showed little concern for my “plight” (as I saw it). Not just because I’m Judgment Proof, but because Magdalena ALREADY knew I’d be okey-dokey. That it would be an amazing adventure filled with revelations as well! Which would otherwise NOT be the case had she guided me through it with professional aplomb. CAN’T WAIT till May 5th when she returns from vacation and reads my celebratory missive! And remember THIS, good physician: I told her some months back during our face-to-face, that this eviction dilemma comes off more like an initiation by a secret cabal, than any REAL lawsuit…and that SHE is part of it! Of course, she remained totally poker faced per the cabal’s machinations.

– Zeke K-Holmes

P.S.: Installing Linux onto my x250 was a breeze! Besides my x230 pooping out over the fan error, its display blanked out permanently several months back…and I couldn’t replace it even if I was willing to cough up da moolah. ‘Cause I can’t unscrew the casing! So I’m very PLEASED with my new Thinkpad: superb condition with gobs more storage capacity, plus Bluetooth and web cam. I also purchased a cooling pad and an AC powered USB hub, for cheap. PC heaven, a digital wonderland…makes me feel “chip”per again! I COULDN’T HAVE DONE IT WITHOUT ME!

Subject: But for the Grace of Glob
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: May 2, 2023 at 2:16 PM

Four recent videos, first one shot two days ago, the rest just yesterday…one is an exhausting 14 seconds long, the others are a tolerable 10:

Need I say any more?

Besides finally in the last steps to get a new elevator up and running, looks like the lobby is going through a makeover at the same time. The second video reveals what is behind the “curtain.”

What’s “behind the curtain” is a wall with the mailboxes ripped out! Will USPS continue delivery during repairs? A little time will tell. But I get mostly junk mail anyway…don’t we all?

Right here in my building. Apparently, workers doing a makeover in the lobby also involves sporadic non-emergency shrieking of our emergency alarm system. Good times! (Ignore the shoddy condition of my doorway, please, I’ll be forever grateful.)

From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: May 2, 2023 at 2:38 PM

> This looks delectable–will finish reading tomorrow!

It IS delectable, especially with a Rudi’s muffin on the side!

From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: May 2, 2023 at 7:21 PM

> Interesting to watch things unfold on the list the last few days re: the death of Durby Millas, who ran the health food store in where I get my Rudi’s muffins. At first, it was all praise and fondness, until one of his daughters weighed in with stories of sexual abuse and neglect. Then, everyone either went silent or took sides. Ladye Birdsong chimed in, sounding like one of Trump’s lawyers cross-examining E. Jean Carroll: “Why didn’t you come forward years ago?” and such.

Due to the busy-ness of writing my tales, my list digests have piled up over five days. I’ll be catching up this evening. There’s a reason I call her “Ladye Turdsong.” Sorry your beloved Rudi’s muffins got caught in the crossfire!

– Zeke K-Holmes

Good News for Modern Homo Sapiens

April 26, 2023

[Brindlekin Tales – Book 7: Chapter 23]

Subject: Glitches in the Matrix
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: April 24, 2023 at 2:57 PM

I had all my papers filled out, signed and dated last night, so was good to go the next day, to process my Denial, Fee Waiver, and Proof of Delivery bright and early. So this morning, soon as I arose, I did a final eyeball over all necessary documents, then noticed the date I was served the summons is March 23rd. But for some unknown reason I thought all along it was the 27th! So after checking out my calendar (again), I realized the final day I could respond was last Friday instead of this Wednesday! This is based on a 30-day window without excusing weekends and holidays. So, the 30-day span ending last Saturday meant I had to file my Denial the day before at the very latest.

At least, according to a generic web page on how to answer a summons. Though perhaps California allows the defendant a slightly extended deadline, if day 30 falls on the weekend…which means today would be the final day. Though I kinda doubt it, in which case I’m screwed. So I decided it’s wise to hustle my ass down to civil court anyway, and see how things go. I did just that and, now that I’m back hovel, allow me to describe exactly what went down:

I had to visit two different buildings: first, 400 McAllister that harbors the court where the plaintiff’s attorney registered the summons…then, right across the street to City Hall where the sheriff’s office is located for serving papers. I was upfront with the county clerk:

“I’m judgment proof but decided to reply with a General Denial anyway. It was a last minute decision, so perhaps I missed the deadline, I’m not sure.”

She asked then to see the summons, and after handing it to her she began clacking away at her keyboard, and about a half minute later asked to see Proof of Delivery.

“I don’t have that yet,” I replied, “I still need to go to the sheriff’s office, but first I need to apply for a court fee waiver.”

“Sure, I can do that for ya!” she said. “Do you have the waiver form filled out?”

“Yes,” I replied, then extracted the document from a manila folder contained in a plastic grocery bag. Which I used in lieu of a backpack today, to make security check a breeze.

I also drew out my wallet to extract the EBT card, but she stopped me, said “That’s okay, I don’t need to see it.”

Besides her not saying anything about whether or not the deadline had passed, I also found it strange she did not require proof of my pauper status! Nonetheless, I watched her process my waiver, which she photocopied onto two green sheets of paper, dated, signed, stapled and stamped, then handed to me. By that point I had no idea what was really going on, but just went with the flow, said “Thanks” and departed, on my way to City Hall.

Just like the McAllister building, City Hall was mostly vacant of visitors, thus no waiting in line there, either. Easy breezy…and it WAS a lovely, sunny morning that made me wanna hang out in that part of the burg after my filing was done. But I didn’t want to keep Deek and pups waiting too long, if they showed up while I was gone. (They didn’t BTW, and still haven’t, though I’m sure Deek’s itch for more buckazoids is welling up like a nasty hive again!) At any rate:

I handed the woman working by a computer out front, my General Denial form and she gave me another form to fill out for the delivery process. I just had to write down the plaintiff’s name, his attorney’s name and address, case number and my own name, address and telephone number. They will make three attempts to deliver, starting tomorrow (I think). And once (hopefully) served, they’ll send me a copy of proof via snail mail, as well as bring the orginal proof of service papers to the county clerk themselves.

The whole process was simple and quick, everyone was nice to me and riding the Metro home was a piece of cake. But of course the only downside is my reply will most likely be rejected because it PROBABLY wasn’t delivered on time. I have NO idea why I did this to myself, seeing as I was careful about getting the right forms, filling them out properly, and rechecking the calendar numerous times to be sure I’d not miss the deadline!

This is not like me, Wattson, no, not at all. Why did this happen? How on earth did I get March 27th stuck in my head like that? And why did the papers disappear from my room, requiring me to ask the plaintiff’s attorney to send them again? Here is my conjecture:

Seeing as these bodhisattva wizards have complete command of my world (a good thing I should note), they possibly messed with my head to get the deadline wrong, as well as made the first delivery of those papers disappear. Now, just WHY would they do that (you may ask yourself)? Well, there’s only ONE reason I can come up with:

Those glitches were intentionally imposed upon me, for whatever reason they deemed necessary for the advancement of my soul as efficaciously as possible. Though a positive outcome is inevitable, the steps getting there sometimes include a disappointment, a failure, a fright here and there, now and then. (Not to mention gifting me another cliffhanger of a tale!)

This does NOT diminish one iota the exuberant impact of my LARC rendezvous, so much like sitting in a waiting room by the Pearly Gates AFTER you’ve already been deemed worthy, but they have to process each and every soul before escorting you through, and that takes time. Ironically, however, the day I went on a LARC was the same day as my deadline!

They’re playing with me, good physician! And this sloppily composed, handprinted envelope addressed to me by plaintiff’s attorney is yet another clue. How can I take seriously a so-called “legal expert,” when their mail-bound presentations appear so unprofessional?

Likewise, the County Clerk was having a little fun at my expense! Not mentioning anything about the deadline, nor asking to see my EBT card…gimme a break!

Anyway, it’s a lovely spring day and I’m sitting back enjoying a cup of Rosenberg’s java and a large, plump blueberry muffin that I’ve been eyeing on their counter for MONTHS and finally broke down today, after returning from the Civic Center. The blueberries are juicy and bountiful! (Don’t get me wrong, though, it’s not the SAME muffin I first laid eyes on…they have a fresh supply of ’em every week in hopes to finally seduce me. And guess what: they SUCCEEDED at last!)

Felix the shop owner was there, said “You’re late!” the moment I stepped inside. I told him I had to go to City Hall first thing this morning, to sign and process a buncha forms. When I snatched up one of the blueberry muffins clumped together like the tempting fat cakes they are, each tightly veiled in plastic wrap, he exclaimed: “They’re very good!”

“Yes I know, been eyein’ ’em for months!” I replied. “Thought I’d celebrate with one today. I used to enjoy these muffins back when coffeehouses were my thing.”

“Oh, they’re not anymore?” he queried.

“The pandemic put the kibosh on that,” I explained, “along with FINALLY getting high-speed broadband at home…for free!”

What can I say, Wattson, but that LARC has breathed fresh air into my world…not only have I been supremely invigorated, I am REBORN thanks to them! And eager to resume my city walks, explore the changing Tenderloin and Bayview/Hunter’s Point, in spite of the latter being portrayed as a violent hotbed of neglected black residents hangin’ on for dear life to keep a roof over their heads and bills paid. Maybe my presence can do some good, though I certainly won’t hang out there after dusk!

The FIRST time I’ll visit that area will be this Friday, to attend another LARC session. And ask an attorney what will be the likely repurcussions of my failing to deliver the Denial on time, in light of the bogus and shocking complaints against me. Especially how the property owner might respond, if at all. I don’t think Ablablah can call me in to testify against the plaintiff’s claims now, since they won by default…thus I can no longer bring up any denials.

Come what may, I’m sure I’ll be fine. So I’ll continue to focus on the many achievements I have accomplished thus far, forge ahead to build on them, and be eternally grateful for the incredible spirits I’ve communed with just three afternoons ago at triple-three Golden Gate Avenue. And keep dancing!

P.S.: Santana’s “Maria Maria” continues to play in the background now and then, whenever it pleases me, as has been the case for the past four days. I often just tap on my Chromebook’s [enter] key to repeat, and keep that up for maybe a dozen times…the song is so lovingly evoked, and rich with cholo spirit! Here’s but ONE verse from that angelic treasure that hit the top of the chart for ten weeks in America, back in 1999:

Stop the looting, stop the shooting
Pick pock’ing on the corner
See as the rich is getting richer
The poor is getting poorer
Se mira Maria on the corner
Thinking of ways to make it better
In my mailbox, there’s an eviction letter
Signed by the judge, said see you later

I can certainly relate to those last two lines, Wattson (and of course line 4)! And here’s the original video…elegant! Marvin Moore a.k.a. “Money Harm:” what a rich, melodic voice and so fukkin handsome back then!


THIS just came in the email moments ago. From the ABA’s “free answers” message board:


Thank you for supplying this information. Yes, you should submit an Answer, as well as declare Judgment Proof. The clinic should be able to help you fill out the answer form, including how to handle specific headings. Mediation would allow you to explain to the Plaintiff’s attorney why you are denying the Plaintiff’s claims. For now, however, I would recommend focusing on filing an answer with the court, and then proceeding from there.

[This question is marked as answered and is now closed.]


So, that attorney recommends an Answer rather than a General Denial…though I think Prentiss is correct about the latter being best. Of course, it may be too late at this point, no matter what. Jeepers, what a monkey on my back!


Subject: One strange thing about my visit to the sheriff’s office:
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: April 24, 2023 at 8:07 PM

That form you fill out for serving the plaintiff with a reply, had three identical sections subheaded PLAINTIFF, one atop the other, where you enter a different name and address for each (at least, that’s how I saw it). Well, since I only had but a single plaintiff to address (being the attorney representing him), I figured the bottom two were for those lawsuits where maybe two or three plaintiffs are involved. Certainly not MY situation, so naturally I just filled out the topmost one.

So when I handed the form back to the clerk for processing, that I thought I had completed, she quickly scanned it and asked: “Where’s YOUR name and address?”

I told her I don’t see any place on the form to include that, so I figured the case title with my last name in it and the case number would suffice, and she’d get my personal information from the attached General Denial.

“No,” she said while pointing at the third PLAINTIFF box. “The part you need to fill out is right here, see?”

“But I’m not the plaintiff, I’m the defendant!” I replied with some confusion.

“Okay,” she said, “Look at the top here, tell me who that is.”

Since she laid her finger on the top left of the form, which indicated the plaintiff and his name (which I had to write down myself), I said, unsurprisingly: “The plaintiff.”

“Okay, now tell me who THIS person is,” she said as she slid her finger to the right, which indicated the defendant and HIS name (which I also had to write down).

“Well, that’s ME, the defendant, of course!” I replied, now more perplexed than ever.

“So you need to fill out your address and phone number right at the bottom HERE!” she said, this time with a touch of annoyance in her voice, like I was being a smartass…while once again pointing at the section for the third, and final, plaintiff.

“Aha!” I replied. “You mean because I am demanding PROOF for their complaints by serving them a Denial, that in this case I become the plaintiff?”

Upon my saying that, she threw up her hands, declared: “Just ignore the word PLAINTIFF for that section, fill it out and you’re good!”

At this absurd point I figured it wise to NOT ask why it didn’t say DEFENDANT instead of PLAINTIFF, as I seemed to have tested her patience to the max…albeit through no fault of my own! The heavyset woman appeared to be in her late sixties, and Hindu by the way (or at least from India), going by her colorful style of clothing typical of that culture. And she DID have the accent to match.

So I wrote down the requisite information, handed her the form for which she presented me a receipt, thanked her and hastily departed…wondering if I did anything right today, between the court clerk and the sheriff’s assistant. Or, better said: if THEY did anything right.

Makes sense though, in a funny kinda way…assuming they are players on the bodhisattva Wheel of Misfortune that is my life. One problem, though:

What happened to the dice, where the fuck are the dice? And the cards…they’re gone, too? Did they just disappear into the ether as well, like the original summons? After all, the game DID start out with dice and cards. And frankly, Wattson, I can’t recall WHEN that accursed wheel showed up! There are strange SYMBOLS on it that look like NO culture’s on earth, not even ancient Sumeria fer Glob’s sake! They hurt my eyes, just the shapes alone, they seem to have sucking MOUTHS on them in various and sundry arrangements! Great Queen Kassogtha, Cthulhu’s Glorious Sister and Concubine of Myriad Spinning Tentacles, is that you? I thought you were a friggin WHEEL: begging your forgiveness!

– Zeke K (I-have-gazed-into-the-abyss-where-all-cookie-crumbs-and-missing-socks-go) Holmes

Subject: Superb Update (or) Good News for Modern Homo Sapiens
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: April 25, 2023 at 2:13 PM

Just got an email from plaintiff’s attorney who asked me to give him a call. So I did, and just got off the phone with him. Here is how the conversation went (BTW he sounds young and impressively polite):


He let me know he received the General Denial today, and wanted clarification regarding my financial status, that my sole income is Social Security, and I have no other monies or assets. I assured him that is the case. He then expressed a desire to cut me out of the lawsuit. And that he’d like me to email him a history of the dogs, why I had them over in the first place, and what I believe happened that led to the lawsuit. So I replied:

“You mean I can present you with an unofficial equivalent of my denials? Because I believe that most of the charges are either grossly exaggerated or just plain wrong…and that your plaintiff is possibly being coached by someone with malicious intent.”

“Well, the truth is the truth,” he replied.

“And I have mine,” I countered, “And would prefer not to have base accusations against me remain on record, and they not be redirected to the other defendant, who is the landlord. So, let’s see if I understand correctly: you want me to give a history of the dogs, and state any grievances I have regarding the list of complaints?”

“Yes,” he agreed. “That will do nicely, then I’ll confer with my client and take it from there.”

“Okay, sounds good,” I answered. “I will complete my email to you by this evening, so I guess you’ll see it tomorrow. Is that agreeable?”

“Yes, that’s fine,” he replied. “And thanks for giving me a call.”

“Good talking to you, Mr. Lucasio. I appreciate the opportunity to present my side of the story.”


So that’s that, Wattson! He seemed taken aback by my clarity of thought and honest appraisal…like maybe he’s dancing a Tango with someone who has better moves than him! Because I was also FRIENDLY in my talk, and expressed not one whit of outrage against the plaintiff or anyone else…and was sharp as a scalpel with my words. I don’t think he expected anything other than a flustered, barely comprehensible person bursting with hostility…or one expressing nervous trepidation flush with tears of self-pity and begging for mercy.

Who knows, though, for after all is said and done, this is likely just a staged performance for the benefit of moi!

You know EXACTLY what I’m going to convey to Mr. Lucasio via email, ’cause you’ve SEEN it already in scattered parts via earlier missives…so no need to send you a copy unless you’d enjoy the perusal thereof.


Things just keep getting better and better, eh, good doctor? Welp, time for me to arise from my chair once more and boogie up a storm to “Maria Maria!” Then get down to business and compose one of the most important letters I’ve ever writ in my life. Why I don’t say “THE most important” is because my assisting Randolph Taylor back in the mid to late ’80s included MANY letters of profound significance…not to mention my copious essays and tales regarding LGBT rights.


And I KNOW you will, simply thanks to this, my latest missive, “Good News for Modern Homo Sapiens,” to one so kind as your own splendiferous self.

– Zeke K-Holmes


Before affirming he received the Denial, I said to him my reply was a last minute decision and I was afraid I might have missed the deadline date. That’s when he said no I didn’t, it was delivered just moments ago. Also, he queried if my friend who owns the dogs is homeless. So I replied:

“Yes, until four months ago. He’s now living in a tiny cabin.”

“Well that’s great news,” he replied.

He also asked if the landlord knew about the dogs, so I responded with: “The manager knew, and it was with his tacit approval. I was sitting them two or three days a week for over a year and a half before the alleged incident occurred.”

And when he asked me to email him a history of the dogs, etc., I told him it’s all documented, I keep a diary, so no problem.

Image created by Craiyon AI.

Subject: Another letter to my eviction attorney
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: April 25, 2023 at 4:17 PM

Just sent it out like a dove taking flight from my hand, though it was actually Pterry Pterodactyl who delivered the message, with great jubilation while pooping over every Republican he spotted along the way.


Subject: Awesome News!

Plaintiff’s attorney is gonna drop me outta the lawsuit…I just got through speaking with him over the phone, moments after the sheriff’s department delivered my General Denial. I decided to challenge the lawsuit with a Denial (rather than ignore the Summons), due to grossly exaggerated claims, false claims and subjective (opinionated) claims. Some of which claims, if left unchallenged, could be directed at my landlord, the other Defendant. Which could weaken their Defense and possibly trigger another attempt to evict me. Though even if that were not the case I’d still have proceeded with a Denial, only because the claims are hostile and reflect badly on me…and I don’t want them to remain on record to haunt me for the rest of my life.

Kudos to LARC for their outstanding support and guidance, BTW. I spoke with a Personal Injury Attorney (Prentiss, truly “off the chart” in a good way) who assured me that a General Denial is the best way to go, and that Plaintiff’s Attorney is on the lowest tier among attorneys and is using the Plaintiff to use ME to get through to my landlord in hopes of collecting a large sum of money. Plaintiff’s Attorney will likely drop the lawsuit entirely, after reading my denials, which he asked me to send him via email, so he’ll be reading them tomorrow.

I’ve written all about my incredible experience with LARC on my blog, and I know you’ll enjoy it immensely, if you want to spend some relaxing time between your many responsibilities, and feel invigorated. That chapter is called “Every Little Endorphin Boost Counts!” and my LARC adventure begins about a third of the way down, under the subheading “Subject: BRILLIANT…so glad I went!” Here’s the link.

I am SO pleased I can soon release all my tales around the eviction fiasco! Just know I use pseudonyms for every person involved that has graced my pages with incredible character, intelligence, dedication and wit.

Please, no need to reply, I’m not seeking flattery or recognition, especially since I already realize my tales will soon take off like a rocket breaking through the stratosphere…notwithstanding my utter lack of access to a publisher, or support by anyone so connected. Consider my LARC tale a GIFT to you and the countless other incredible souls who work at BALA, LARC, and related agencies. For it is these impeccably GOOD people who have gifted ME with stupendous stories to share with the world at large. In short, I”m just returning the favor.

With tremendous gratitude,

Ezekiel J. Krahlin


Re: Superb Update (or) Good News for Modern Home Sapiens
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: April 25, 2023 at 9:49 PM

> Fanfuckingtabulous!!!!!

Even THAT’S an understatement.

> I love it that you had this conversation with the plaintiff’s attorney. I’ll bet he was FLOORED. Not at all what he was expecting!!!

Do you see what’s going on, Wattson? I am being catapulted into recognition and fame for my decades of good works, as I speak with attorneys in one way or another…and word spreads. This is how it starts, this is how my bodhisattva guardians have written the script…some play a friend, others an enemy. The stage is set!

> Well done, old chap!

Thank you, good physician. I could NOT have gotten there without your loving, intelligent outreach over many years. So pat yourSELF on the back, too! You are no less deserving of the honors.

– Zeke K-Holmes

Re: Another letter to my eviction attorney
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: April 25, 2023 at 10:06 PM

> This is truly wonderful!!!

Isn’t it? Can’t you see a Disney animation of me and Pterry Pterodactyl working together as detectives and comrades? So here is what Magdalena is going to do once she reads my email, which won’t happen till she returns from vacation on May 5th:

She’ll print out that email and make many copies to post in various attorney’s offices who work with BALA, LARC, SF Bar and whatever other legal groups assist the poor in this city (and perhaps beyond). Which letter includes a link to my chapter that features my LARC adventure. Some attorney may be so impressed and have the right connections to set me up for publication! Or public speaking. Or media interviews.

I’m almost done composing my email to plaintiff’s attorney. I’ll send you the parts you haven’t seen yet (because just invented), and a couple of short passages I’ve embellished.

Pleasant dreams, Wattson…I know I will have some. I shall sleep VERY well tonight indeed, and for all my many days and years remaining…may they be eternal!

– Zeke K-Holmes

Subject: The Whole Enchilada
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: April 25, 2023 at 10:28 PM

Decided to send you a copy of the entire email, not too long and you’re a fast reader. Enjoy!



Against my wishes (because I think it’s cruel to force a dog to live on the streets) my homeless friend of almost fifteen years, Deek, went ahead anyway and adopted two dogs…first, the male (Lucky) in early 2020 and about seven months later the female, his sister from a different litter. Deek has been prone to extreme mood swings, and for that reason (among others) I didn’t think he’d make for a responsible dog owner. So I realized the dogs need help, for their master would’ve surely lost them, or died, had I not intervened. The pups are delightful, charming and most loving…and for this reason I committed myself to both aiding them as well as working with Deek to get a better handle on his mood swings. It’s been a dragged out, uphill climb, but he’s improved drastically, especially over the past year: has far less or severe mood swings and takes much better care of the dogs. And best of all: he now lives in a tiny cabin since January, and the hounds love their new digs.

My suggestion to dog sit two or three days a week came about because he was forcing the dogs to be exposed to the rain, and sleep on the hard, cold sidewalks at night…no sweaters, no blankets, nothing for their simple comfort. So I figured the odds for their survival, good health and happiness would increase if they had regular breaks indoors, where they know they’re loved and safe. Deek would also bring the pups over whenever it started to rain…or a heat wave hit the city, in which case I’d keep them cooled down with a fan, as well as dampened bandanas flung over them while they rested.

At one time early on, I seriously considered having Animal Control remove them from Deek’s ownership, but I came to learn they wouldn’t do that except in the most severe cases of abuse, which is definitely not their situation with Deek. That is when I decided to roll up my sleeves and do everything I could for securing the dogs’ well-being, and getting Deek to be more responsible.

The building manager, Kevin Bond, was fully aware that I was sitting the dogs, right from day one. He has never objected until around a year later a clearly false claim of a dog bite by another resident was made. More about that below. Then came your plaintiff’s complaint.


– Main allegation being the claim one of these two dogs I was sitting for a friend bit the plaintiff, yet I have received zilch evidence of that…neither on the person himself, nor with any photograph. The picture Officer Heurta showed me on his smartphone appeared to be unharmed, just a regular foot and ankle. When he offered to show me a video of the dogs’ alleged attack I said that won’t be necessary, because I saw no reason why Mr. Bond never offered to show it to me, and I felt uncomfortable with the officer’s insistance that the dogs are “vicious and dangerous,” and didn’t want to get into any conflict with him. Also, I sensed that someone was eavesdropping atop the stairway landing. Some days later, I emailed Huerta and requested he send me a copy of the video, or a link to it, per my eviction attorney’s suggestion. But he never did, never got back to me in any way.

– Plaintiff never approached me at any time to show me proof of injury. The summons came out of the blue about ten months later.

– Another claim is that the plaintiff had to get rabies shots. But the building manager texted me the same day as the alleged bite, asking if the dogs have received their shots. So I texted him back a few minutes later, with snapshots of the papers and the rabies tags, to show that their vaccinations are up to date. I presumed, then, the manager informed the plaintiff regarding this matter. The plaintiff could have also asked me himself, for proof…or have a friend do that, or the doctor who allegedly gave him rabies shots. I don’t know the plaintiff personally, didn’t even know he is (or was) a resident in my building. So I had no idea how to contact him directly, thus the responsibility to show him proof of vaccination was the manager’s. I want to point out here:

Regardless of whether or not the plaintiff was bitten, it is the right of the building manager (or anyone else for that matter) to ask for proof that the dogs have been vaccinated, and the shots are up to date. So my presenting this proof is not an admission on my part, that the plaintiff was actually attacked by either dog.

– In describing the alleged attack, plaintiff’s description that one of the dogs “ripped off his shoe” is a gross exaggeration of what possibly occurred. For he wasn’t wearing any shoes: they were cheap slide slippers (or perhaps the thong type) that slip off easily. I can imagine the plaintiff stepping back and one of the slippers slid off…and the male pup (who loves to play with footwear) may have picked it up and flung it about.

– Plaintiff’s claim there were multiple attacks on other residents by these dogs, is simply untrue. Barking is definitely not the same as an attack. No one’s been attacked.

– Plaintiff’s claim that I was harboring the dogs illegally, because I live in a single room where pets are not allowed is also untrue. I was sitting the dogs two or three days a week in a pet friendly building for my homeless friend…with the tacit approval of the building manager. Dog sitting is not the same as having them live with me. This sitting went on for over a year and a half with no problems, until your plaintiff’s claim of being attacked and bitten. Had the manager told me he’s changed his mind, that I shouldn’t have the dogs visit me any more because it’s too frequent or whatever, I would’ve complied, though not be happy about it. But he never did.

– Plaintiff’s claim that he was left standing and bleeding, as I rushed the dogs out of the lobby. They had escaped my apartment because the door blew open from a strong breeze while I turned around to collect the poopy bags. Their leashes were on them by that time, and I rushed downstairs to find them standing around and barking at the plaintiff. As I bent over to pick up the leashes and hurry the pups outside so they’d stop barking, I quickly examined the plaintiff’s legs, ankles and feet (all were bare since he was wearing shorts) and saw no sign of a bite, nor blood, anywhere. One of his slippers was off his foot, lying nearby. Before I exited, I said, “Sorry they scared you.”

I want to point out here that the dogs are small, twenty-five pounds each, and are part dachshund with weak, small jaws to match. And that most people laugh should one or both dogs start barking at them, because their harmless nature is obvious. If a stranger tries to pet them, they’ll either back off and keep barking, or allow themselves to be touched. Here is my playlist of videos featuring these two dogs, that you have a better idea of their nature, size and harmlessness.

– Plaintiff’s claim that my rushing out like that was both oppressive and malicious. That is a subjective assumption, how does he know what I was thinking? I saw no harm done, figured he’s just being needlessly dramatic (as some people are), and departed.

– Claiming the dogs “possess a vicious nature” is another gross exaggeration. Besides, if either one actually DID bite a person, it would only have been a nip or two. They can’t even handle hard biscuits. Such small-dog incidents are usually resolved without blowing this up into a lawsuit…unless the “victim” sees an opportunity to collect considerable money by exaggerated claims and false witness.

– Plaintiff’s claim that I allow the dogs to roam freely through my building is blatantly untrue.

BACKSTORY (important):

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. Because the false accusation that I allow the dogs to run freely in this building could only have come from Mr. Bond. Maybe he even told the Plaintiff he does not have proof of the dogs’ vaccination (even though 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, Mr. Bond 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 bit accusation was false.

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 wrongful 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 on April 19th this year, 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).

If you’d like to see my documents regarding Mr. Bond’s untoward behavior (including that nasty letter he taped to my door, and my letter of complaint to the landlord), and other evidence around the dog issue, my eviction attorney has them all on file. I’d be more than happy to ask her to release them to you.

– The claim made by yourself, as the plaintiff’s attorney, that the landlord “was also negligent in that he failed to post a sign, take other measures to warn of the presence of a vicious dog,” strikes me as way over the top.

– There is also a subtle suggestion in the complaint form (under “General Allegations”) that I may be prejudiced against Asians. Else why bring up that the plaintiff hails from mainland China? That’s playing the race card. Personally, I think America’s rising bigotry against Asians is horrifically tragic.


It is my philosophy (based on the Buddhist tenet that we have no enemies, only teachers) to never allow anger or any other negative emotion to control your world. (I want to point out here that you can find such a wholesome concept in other belief systems as well, including Humanism.)

For this reason I don’t seek retribution towards anyone, including the plaintiff or the building manager…but only wish for them to move in a more wholesome direction. As for Mr. Bond’s advanced age (he can barely walk after an almost two-month recent stint in the hospital) and possible senility: how can I be angry at someone who is a victim of a tragic consequence of aging? I only want to end the drama and the cruelty that has gone with it.

I have been a self-made activist and advocate on behalf of our LGBT homeless for more than thirty years. Proof of that is on my website, gay-bible.org, and my WordPress blog, zekeblog.wordpress.com. And I consider assisting my houseless friend and his lovely pups my current project, among several other activities. Rude confrontations, threats, hostility, sabotage and gossip come to me unbidden now and then, simply because I am a leftie activist, and our society has swung largely to the right, including a segment of our queer community. But I take it all in stride, per my philosophy described above.

Thank you for your thoughtful attention, Mr. Lucasio.

– Ezekiel J. Krahlin


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