The Hopelessness of Hope

March 22, 2023

[Brindlekin Tales – Book 7: Chapter 15]

Subject: 6 doggy sweaters instead of 4! (part 2 of 2)
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: March 11, 2023 at 7:50 PM

“Are you busy?” he said.

“Yes I am,” I replied.

“Oh c’mon, really?” he exclaimed with annoyance.

I saw no way to just make him vanish, so consigned myself to stepping outside and have a talk, which started with:

“Yes Vince, I’m busy trying to fix supper and go to bed, I’ve been up since 5 AM after a VERY exhausting day. Then YOU show up. Don’t EVER holler up to my window again, that’s the LAST thing I need, you have no idea what I’ve been going through these past months!” (Please note my exaggerated explication in order to discourage his dropping by.)

“But this is the first time I’ve ever done that,” he replied with a hint of belligerence.

“Right,” I rebutted with greater belligerence, “and this is the first time I’ve ever told you NOT to do that!”

As you can imagine, Wattson, I was really pissed for this intrusion and his snotty, meth inspired behavior (with assistance from a pint of cheap vodka swinging from his hand). I had to make it absolutely CLEAR to him (as I have in the past) that NO, he’s not coming upstairs to visit, I don’t HAVE anyone visit me anymore, not for at least the past three years, nothing personal, that goes for everyone, including Deek (who he knows, albeit casually).

“Oh, Deek,” he scowled, “I saw him the other night, arguing with that whore who clings onto him like a tick. I was gonna say hi, but didn’t wanna get into THAT! I don’t see why you bother with the dude.”

Of course Vince spoke about him that way ’cause jealous I spend so much time with My Cajun Baggage, and not him. But I made sure to correct his rude remark about Scampy, that she’s not a whore, but troubled and in great need of shelter and kindness. And Deek is one of the few folks on the streets who IS kind to her. He apologized, said he didn’t mean it that way, and I replied I understand, he’s just expressing frustration.

Some time during this unpleasant conversation he blurted out: “Well, I’m gonna find SOME way to get into your building!”

I nearly exploded: “NO you’re not, unless you wanna go to jail. That’s breaking and entering, and this is a private residence. So no, no, NO!”

I reminded him he entered this building alREADY without my permission last year, bumped into the manager who asked where he’s going.

“And you said you’re here to visit ME,” I further admonished, “even though I told you twice before I’m NOT having visitors anymore. So when I heard the commotion I opened my door to see you and the manager in the hallway…he asked if you’re here to see me and I said no, he’s not welcome, and he knows it. So he drove you back outside, with you giving him backtalk all the way down the stairs.”

I then paused, took a deep breath and continued: “The REASON I don’t have visitors, and I’ve alREADY explained this to you in the past, is thanks to the ongoing bedbug infestation, the coronavirus and some other issues. “

“Other issues?” he interrupted with a scornful mask.

“Yes!” I replied. “In YOUR case it was the last time you visited, which was when…over four years ago? When it was time for you to leave, instead of going straight downstairs to the lobby you skipped to the back porch and stole an LCD monitor someone had tossed away, and THEN left. I wouldn’t even have KNOWN you did that except a few weeks later you came up to me and BRAGGED about it. Now, how do you think doing shit like that affects me, as a paying resident? There are CAMERAS on the porches.”

“Oh, er…” he mumbled.

“YOU’RE A NUT JOB, VINCE,” I exclaimed, “and I already have one in my life, that’s Deek, so I’m not gonna put up with TWO meth freaks in my life. One is bad enough. So if you step into this building again I won’t hesitate to sic the cops on you! Just who the FUCK do you think you are, Vince, to talk like that? You’re outta control!”

Now, I must note at this point, good physician, he’s absolutely NO danger, he’s a scrawny little thing (about 5-foot-4), and his belligerence was of the mild sort. His main gripe was that he doesn’t get to see me anymore, upon which I reminded him we exchanged emails and phone numbers in the past, but it’s HE who didn’t contact me back, and there’s no way I can afford surprise visits by anyone, including yelling up at my window. I’m just too BUSY for any of that nonsense. So he requested my email and number again, but I said nope, not gonna happen, I learned my lesson last time around.

“You dropped by once, when I was camped outside with the pups,” I reminded the fool. “That was fine, but since the homeless sweep I can’t do that anymore. You’re welcome to hang with me whenever you see me outside with the dogs, which I still do from time to time, though without a tent.”

“Homeless sweep?” he queried.

Oh Glob, I thought, doesn’t the idiot know ANYthing about what’s going on around him? He’s in his own world of crystal palaces and booze-gushing fountains. And all THIS exhausted pilgrim wanted was to return hovel, enjoy my dinner in peace, and crash out…jeez Louise! Nonetheless, in spite of my growling tummy, I took the time to fill him in on the sweep. But just before I did that, who should walk by with a nod of the head, then enter the building? SCOOTER! At least he had the good sense to not intrude. Yet aNOTHER wackadoodle dopehead! So now I got THREE of ’em imposing their unsavory selves in my world! Though I make exception for just ONE, thanks to the wee hounds.

Somehow, some way, I finally extricated myself from Vince’s tentacles a few minutes later, wishing him well as he did same, and got down to supper and bed. Now, for a final thought re. Scooter…grab those smelling salts!

Could Karlsen actually be dead, chopped up there in his own bathtub, and Scooter is just covering his butt by talking with me to fabricate an alibi? And who is this strapping, blonde dude of careworn animal magnetism, smokey bedroom eyes, solid jawline and impressive biceps, pectorals and solid rump who accompanied him into the building and, I guess, Karlsen’s apartment? Are they busy decomposing the body parts with lime and some other substance to conceal the foul stink of decay? They certainly have the advantage of an absent building manager to get away with Glob only knows. Maybe I should ask Victor, our maintenance man, to take a look-see in that unit after telling him my concern. That would be a hoot! Meanwhile, I think I’ll jack off tonight in some hot Criminal Minds fantasy with blondie…boinking him up his tight sphincter while he’s bent over the bathtub bubbling with dissolving flesh and muscle, one eyeball still floating about.

P.S.: Barely an hour after I composed the paragraph above I stepped out to empty my wastebasket, when who should I see exiting Karlsen’s pad? Scooter and blondie! I feigned a friendly hello and slipped through the back porch door to empty the basket. They were already gone when I stepped back out seconds later and returned to my humble refuge.

P.P.S.: The next day, Thursday eve, who should come lumbering up the stairs, gasping for breath, but Karlsen! Shortly followed by Scooter. Though neither spotted me, as I hid around the corner of the side hall while they drifted along towards their abode across from where Adisa and mom once lived, and vanished like the eerie spooks they are. So much for my coldblooded senicide speculation. *sigh*

P.P.P.S.: Yesterday afternoon my missing four slices of Swiss cheese magically showed up again in my fridge, right where I left them before they disappeared…and in perfectly edible condition. Will wonders never cease? My poltergeist theory must have holes in it.

Re: We SHOULD Fight against local trolls Koclownski, Titslaffer and Filcher.
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: MCN announce, MCN discussion
Date: March 12, 2023 at 12:51 PM

On Fri, 10 Mar 2023 14:14:30 -0800 spike NAZI FOOL kozlowski squoinked:

> Says he who has lived off a mental disability check his ENTIRE useless, meaningless, unproductive life.

You, Mr. Koclownski, are most likely the LEAST qualified of any other person on this planet to pass judgment on ANYone, let alone one who is disabled and whose life has been saved by what thread of kindness remains in our disastrously hobbled government services…thanks to vulgar morons like yourself. Who think it “manly” to poke a stick through a fence at some innocent dog born to love any human who gives it even half a chance.

The ONLY true reason for human existence is for each person to find some noble cause to grab onto and strive forward with torch lit. Regardless of their social or financial status in life, no matter how low or how high. YOU, dear Nazi reprobate, have so far FAILED to find a noble purpose. In fact you seem to have been fighting with every fiber in your body AGAINST achieving just that, for your entire life thus far. Piece of advice:

Better get cracking posthaste, for your time is limited considering your advanced age, and the many years you have already wasted. For whom does the bell toll? For each of us, in our own time. Amirite, Ms. 2-Biased? *crickets* Woo-hoo!

– Zeke

Subject: A movie that will touch your heart like no other:
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: March 12, 2023 at 1:03 PM

Living,” a simple title for a deceptively simple tale that is quintessentially British all the way through, and reflects the very best of what The Isles have to offer to all humanity. And is why I am such a Celtophile. I watched it last night, mesmerized from beginning to end.

Audience reviews: Rotten Tomatoes, Amazon.

Re: 6 doggy sweaters instead of 4! (part 2 of 2)
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: March 12, 2023 at 6:24 PM

> These two letters are some FINE storytelling.

Thanks, so glad you enjoyed them. I had a helluva time composing part 2, as I got stuck on just HOW I can unravel Vince’s meth-crazed litany of bullshit. So I just let go of it for a day and a half, trusting my inner demons to bring things to the prefontal-lobe fore. And they finally did. Sometimes an author needs to mull a scene over for a considerable time before putting it to pen. This is NOT writer’s block (which I never suffer anymore), but the creative process doing its thing. The real writer’s block is ANGST, and I’ve gotten very good at dissipating it promptly, thanks to dealing with Deek’s frequent hissy fits over many years.

> I’m seriously impressed by how you stood up to Vince. And you hit some great licks: “He’s in his own world of ice palaces and booze-gushing fountains…”

Thanks! I changed “ice” to “crystal” ’cause it rolls better and I think fewer readers will get the meth reference with “ice” than they would with “crystal.”

> And when Karlsen comes huffing and puffing up the stairs, right after your fantasy about chunks of his corpse dissolving in the bathtub…

You just can’t make this stuff up! It happened exactly that way, in exactly that time frame. Just another hint they’re all having fun at my expense, as My Bodhisattva Premise suggests. And I had so much FUN composing that torrid sex-crime scene, with your alter-ego Morticia in mind. Imagine when my tales are reproduced in vibrant animation via Indymedia!

Marshall did a GREAT job narrating my latest tale last Friday. More on that later. Along with a couple MORE updates. Hard to keep up whenever I go through an intense cycle of flapdoodle. I make sure, though, to draft a quick outline each day so I won’t lose any scenes to the dusty void of forgotten props in a defunct theater from yesteryear, its roof about to collapse. All the world’s a stage, but most of the shows are cancelled, or never make it to the boards in the first place!

– Zeke K-Holmes

Subject: Catching up with Deek updates and other reports.
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: March 16, 2023 at 12:32 AM

Starting with Thursday morning, six days ago:


Stepping out of Rosenberg’s with java in hand, who should I see down the block a bit but someone in a plush hooded jacket smiling at me. Took me a few moments to realize who it was: Heimdall, Deek’s Viking friend who sold him a fabulous Bluetooth speaker at a ridiculously low price back in January! So glad to see him again, I invited him to sit with me around the corner, by the steps of “Max Muscle,” that nutritional sports outlet. Though he remained standing for the entire visit–which lasted for almost a half hour–it was a superb get-together.

He was nicely dressed as usual, this time in a nylon-shell jacket of a tawny shade, black Levi jeans and a pair of dark blue Adidas sneakers with three yellow stripes on each side, that looked spanking new (like everything else he wears). I never see him without a Bluetooth speaker of his own (usually hanging from a strap slung diagonally over his chest and one shoulder) and that morning was no exception. This one was a JBL Xtreme 2: barrel shaped and resting just above his waist. Definitely a music lover, though with a much wider range of genres than Deek’s…thank the Elder God Orryx for that. And also (unlike Deek at times) it was turned off, so our confabulation was an undisturbed pleasure.

What did we talk about? (You may be asking at this point, Wattson.) It was mostly about the different people we meet on the streets, and how we deal with conflicts from the nasty, dysfunctional types. His approach is much like mine: always be calm, patient and forgiving no matter how onerous the other’s behavior. At worst, just walk away and never be vengeful or harbor resentment.

But I already knew that about him, so well illustrated by his witnessing my chastising Deek in front of him, that night Heimdall agreed to a $200 dollar transaction for a $500 speaker. I’ll spare you the details of this argument, as I’ve already spelled them out in a previous missive. My point being that Heimdall remained peaceable and friendly during my little clash with the Cajun dufus…and did not at all express dismay later on, at Deek’s reckless treatment of that fine speaker leading to its demise only a few weeks later. The ONLY complaint Heimdall has about him is when he’s around him Deek never shuts up but chatters on aimlessly. He loves the pups though, and agrees with me that Deek is basically a decent human being, and is a great help to others surviving on the streets.

He also brought up his living situation, though in such a way that I’m not clear about whether or not he has a roof over his head NOW. He said he comes from money, but enjoys many aspects of the street life…and has a studio apartment ready for him in the near future, thanks to a social worker. I’m under the impression he has SOME safe place to return to at night, considering how well attired and impeccably neat his appearance every time I see him. Not to mention the TWO expensive smartphones he always carries around, along with a high-priced speaker that changes brand or model with surprising frequency.

His affirmation of My Bodhisattva Premise, as conveyed by how he deals with conflict, was most uplifting. Especially since it was just the night before when pesky Vince showed up with his disturbing antics that put me in a slump, worrying if he’s gonna be more of a pest these days, and how I’m gonna deal with that. It’s not like I discussed My Premise with Heimdall, seeking approval from someone (anyone), it’s more like he appeared outta the sky as one of my guardians to give me the perfect boost at just the right time.

While we were chatting, that friendly black dude in a yellow jacket strolled by again, waved at us with a hearty “Good morning!” We greeted him back in the same amicable manner, then Heimdall turned to me and declared:

“They’re not always so friendly, some are downright ugly.”

“What do you mean?” I queried, a bit puzzled at his use of “they.”

He pointed at the yellow jacket which had the words “Castro Ambassador” displayed on the back, in white. I never noticed that before. I think he was talking about some of them being prejudiced against the homeless, as they’re a black eye for tourism in our neighborhood. And, being unhoused himself (or coming off that way to some), Heimdall gets a taste of that rudeness. Though with his always-neat appearance and pleasant demeanor, I don’t see why ANYone would jump to the conclusion he’s living on the streets. Just because he carries around a cart sometimes, and blasts a speaker on his walks?

Though I’m not sure that’s what he meant, as he speaks in such a way that is difficult to understand without focusing directly on his face. His words often blur together as if he were partly deaf, or has some other hearing disorder. One is therefore tempted to say “What?” after almost every sentence…but I temper that by pretending I understand, based on the words and phrases that came before which I COULD comprehend. In sum:

Thanks to our upbeat conversation, I felt invigorated and still do. For just under my thin veneer of angst I discovered renewed energy, a positive rush of affirmation that I’m still basking in as I compose this email.


The next night (Friday) Deek showed up, though it was already 10 PM and I was settling into my nighttime routine of a late dinner and relaxing with a movie or some Youtube videos. He asked if I could watch the pups while he rode about on his bike for fifteen minutes or so. I said sure, and he was gone maybe for a half hour at most. So I laid down cardboard and a blanket for the doggies’ comfort, and we had another lovely visit there on the sidewalk below my window.

The brindlekin sensed his return from across the street; their ears perked up at a rap song blaring from his speaker. When he finally crossed the street and approached, the dogs looked up at him with waggy-tail joy and I exclaimed:

“They know your music, they recognized it from a block away!”

As he prepared to leave I saw him adjusting his Bluetooth speaker in a small baby buggy he had joined somehow to the bike’s rear axle. So I asked if he could use another bungee cord to better secure the hefty device. He wound up taking more than half what I had, from a $12 supply I ordered only three days prior! See pic. And here I assumed those many cords would last for two or three months to suit his needs.

He also had a cage connected to the bike, behind the buggy, and used the extra bungee cords to secure it. But as I watched him place the dogs in the cage it tilted the bike back and made a soft landing on the sidewalk. Both mutts remained in the cage, even though it was open, because they preferred to remain in cozy rest upon the sleeping bag also stashed therein. (I was watching all this from my window, BTW.)

He wound up extricating the pups from that cage and walking them, along with his bike, towards wherever he was destined next. I guess he didn’t call up to me to return the sleeping bag (which I suggested he use to cushion the cage), because he was planning to remain outdoors for the night, anyway.


Looks like he now has “friends” visiting and staying over in Karlsen’s tiny studio apartment. (Well, not even a studio as it has no kitchen, just a single unit with bathroom attached.) I first realized this upon exiting the front gate last Saturday afternoon when I stepped out to see Deek and brindlekin. Scooter was holding the gate open and chatting with another vagrant who appeared reasonably neat, thank Blavigus (that’s a deity I just made up; I haven’t put any thought into his purpose except that he’s male and probably of Grecian, Macedonian, or even Cretan origin).

He was blocking the exit so I said excuse me please, and he graciously stepped aside so I could squeeze my way through.

“Uh-oh,” Deek exclaimed with a chuckle. “He has the key, now everyone can get into your building!”

“Hush,” I bent over his right ear and whispered. “He says he’s paying Karlsen half the rent to stay there, and we have no manager anymore, so there’s really nothing I can do about it, except be cool.”

[Sidebar: Yeah, Wattson, I forgot to tell you about that, when Scooter and I had our first conversation outside while I was watching the pooches. I also forgot to tell you he said if anyone bothers me, let him know and he’ll take care of it. Boy do I feel safe now! My response of course was: “Thanks, much appreciated!” For I thought it wise not to play the “you’re-a-big-fat-tweeking-phony-scamming-his-way-into-the-building-since-you-know-the-manager-is-in-the-hospital-on-his-death-bed” card. I guess that’s one of the cards in a pile of cards on my imaginary “Battle of the Bodhisattvas” gameboard. I hope they’re not ALL that wordy, but only time will tell.]

So this explains why I’ve heard people calling up to Karlsen’s window for the past week…though not hollering for either him or Scooter, but someone ELSE! (For some reason I still can’t discern WHAT that name is, though definitely one syllable.) It hasn’t been frequent, or late at night…just once or twice a day between three different people as far as I know. Goodness gracious, I can’t ALWAYS be standing by my window playing Neighborhood Watch!

But that morning I heard someone hollering up at my building, “Oscar!” Loudly, but just once. I have no idea who Oscar is. He stood around awhile, halfway between my window and Karlsen’s, then departed. Didn’t get a good look at him ’cause I didn’t want him to spot THIS wary pilgrim.

Then towards evening a raggedy fellow (maybe blondie, but not sure…he was wearing a hoodie) was hollering up at Karlsen’s window, some name I couldn’t make out, but definitely not “Karlsen” or “Scooter.” Didn’t sound like “Oscar” either. He kept it up for ten minutes or so, then took off.

Then, late that night from around 2 to 3:30 AM someone kept pounding on the front gate, repetitiously, nonstop. He just would not give up, though at no time did he holler out ANYthing, just kept smashing a fist (or maybe both) on the metal gate. I tried to see who it was, but all I could make out from my window was a chunky pair of legs and butt in blue jeans, thanks to the overhang blocking my view. Small gaggles of revelers passed by during those wee hours, every few minutes or so, but not a single one stopped to challenge the gate smasher. Now get this, good doctor:

It has occurred to me that pounding on the gate for so long COULD break the lock, which has happened before. And may explain why NO yelling was involved.

Then, later Sunday morning around 9:30 I heard another person call up to the building some indecipherable name, but again, clearly NOT “Karlsen” or “Scooter.” Though I did peek out a minute later to see a bulging black duffle bag out front, but no one near it. Seconds later this scraggly old fellow and an equally scraggly (though colorfully attired) lady with a little doggie in her arms appeared, upon which he picked up the duffle bag and they entered through the front gate. Apparently, someone let them in.

So far all’s quiet with them, no real noise disturbances to speak of coming from that apartment. And I haven’t had the displeasure of crossing any of these crashers’ paths inside my building…nor do they seem to be using the shared bathroom. Maybe Scooter had the good sense to purchase a plunger from a dollar store to keep Karlsen’s OWN toilet working. I certainly hope they continue to lay low. And the lock in the front gate remains secure for the nonce. Oh so many things to be grateful for in my world!


Last Sunday evening Deek came by, asked for the rest of next Thursday’s allowance in advance ($60)…started to say something about needing to pay someone back but I cut him off:

“I don’t wanna hear your stories! I’ll just give you the money, but at this rate you’re gonna run out long before the month ends.”

In fact, he now only has $150 left, seeing as he’s already received $300 within the first two weeks! Later he asked to go inside “just for a minute,” and I told him he has a lot of NERVE asking me to do something I don’t wanna do anymore…and haven’t for at least four years at this point.

“I JUST gave you the rest of your hundred DAYS in advance, I’m being so kind to you and the dogs, you should be ASHAMED of yourself!” I exclaimed.

And believe it or not, this time (and for the first time) he actually showed a touch of remorse and didn’t push the matter! I then fed the pups, and he lingered about an hour out front. Scampy showed up, once more neatly dressed…she’s been in an amicable mood a lot since she “escaped” her shared hotel room! I see and hear her almost every day now, always cheerful. Up the block, across the street, on the corner, sometimes right below my window…she’s around here so much these days!

I remained outside while the hounds were noshing, and Scampy was crouched down along the curb beside Deek, muttering awful things to him. I suspect she has a mental debility akin to Tourette Syndrome. Anyway, she said things like “You’re a fuckin’ loser and you know it,” “A piece of shit like you shouldn’t even exist” and “I wouldn’t care if you died tomorrow.” I’m guessing she’s simply echoing the words of a dysfunctional family she fled from, and became homeless as a result. But what amazed me was how Deek handled it:

He just sat there and listened with kind patience, obviously not the least bit angered by her horrid declarations. They shared the bubble pipe and, rather than hand him back the lighter, she kept diddling with it.

“Please don’t break my lighter,” Deek softly begged. “Please don’t break it.”

According to Deek, she sometimes goes through the things in his cart and either steals or breaks them. Yet rather than show animosity, he endures her tantrums and expletives with startling grace. Never holds a grudge against her and remains a steadfast friend. So maybe THIS is why he used to explode at me so often: all that resentment bottled up!

So before returning hovel for the night I handed Deek another lighter, seeing as she still held onto the one he loaned her.

Before hitting the sack I looked out the window once more and was pleased to see Hjlemar visiting with Deek for awhile, too, before he finally departed with pups and cart about twenty minutes later.

Now, last night a rude incident occurred out front while Deek was sitting outside with the doggies bundled up in a sleeping bag. A young black dude dressed to the nines in a bulky sweater of colorful squares walked by, upon which Flaco & Lucky started to bark like wild. Deek held onto their collars, said sorry. But instead of moving on, the dude turned around and began barking back at the dogs, as if that were a funny thing to do. Causing the canines to react in a greater frenzy, of course.

Deek did not scream back at him, but calmly held the pooches in his arms until the idiot finally took off. However, he returned a minute later from the Hohokum smoke shop and handed Deek a fiver. I guess in apology, but why then did he proceed to yell at the dogs once more, before leaving for good? Be that as it may:

Just sharing with you certain incidents that show Deek’s mature handling of aggravating situations that certainly impress the heck out of yours truly. Now finally, this afternoon:

Deek showed up around 1 PM, and the first thing he said was: “What a nice day, huh?”

I agreed: after that string of gray, rainy days it sure was keen to have a sunny, warmish day at last. Again, he displayed a more sweet disposition that he hasn’t shown for years, except these past weeks since he acquired that tiny cabin.

He requested two rap artists to add to his growing collection: “Teejay3k” and “Ricky B.” Thought I’d have it all set up in just a short while…so I explained to him that’s a two or three hour project. I’d have to download each video from Youtube, then convert them all from mp4 to mp3.

“And when you’re talkin’ around a hundred songs, that takes time,” I added. “But let me see what I can find first, then I’ll let you know what to expect.”

Let me explain what’s going on, Wattson: he’s sticking to his speaker instead of a smartphone these days. In which case he only wants a small number of songs, relative to what he stores on his phone…small number being around a hundred, in contrast to thousands. Seeing as with a speaker you don’t have an LCD screen with a menu by which you can scroll to whatever song or album you want in a pinch. Instead you are relegated to the speaker playing one song after another, in alphabetical order, and you can only go blindly forward or backward one by one, by pressing a button. And having TOO many songs makes it a headache and a half if you want to switch to another rap artist. So, once or twice a week, he asks me to replace his present collection with a new one. He doesn’t ask for any particular artist (for the most part), just wants something different. After all, his library of 5,000-plus songs (and still growing) are all ones he’s personally chosen, so no matter which songs I put on the chip, he’s gonna like ’em.

When I returned to tell him I found both items he requested, he said take your time, maybe put some “Too Short” albums on his chip after deleting what’s already on it, and he’ll come back later. Now, the old Deek would never say that, or be so placid about it. He would’ve exploded in a fury, demanding he get those songs NOW. Instead, he suggested I put some different songs onto the chip that he already has in his collection, and I could do my downloading and converting at my leisure.

I said sure, that’ll work, then just as I was about to enter my building he called to me: “Um, also get me the rapper Dog Hustler and an album called “Bay Area Rap Instrumentals.”

I said okay, but that will add another hour or two for this project. He said fine, so I rushed back upstairs to delete his chip and transfer a bunch of Too Short albums onto it, which only took a few minutes. When I returned outside I handed it to him and said: “Eleven albums by Too Short, that should keep you busy and outta my hair!”

He smiled, said thanks and sat outside for another ten minutes or so before departing.

He returned just before twilight (much later than I expected), and I was glad to tell him I found ALL the songs he wanted, already downloaded to a new chip and numbered a total of 133. So we exchanged chips and he popped the new one in. It looked like he was planning to hang out front for awhile, since he just purchased a beverage and a cigar from the smoke shop and sat down beside the hounds. Since they were sitting on concrete I suggested I bring down some cardboard and a sleeping bag for the pups. Instead of griping in opposition (as was his wont until recent vintage) he simply said: “Good idea, thanks.” He also did not object when I put a new pair of sweaters on them.

Before returning hovel I pet the pups now snug in their nest and told Deek if he wants to take the sleeping bag with him, that’s fine…otherwise call up to my window when he’s about to leave so I can stash it away for another time.

About a half hour later he hollered up, told me he’s leaving now. So I went downstairs to collect the comforter and wish them all godspeed and happy trails. I watched them wander off into the distance as they crossed Noe Street, pleased as punch for yet aNOTHER peaceful meetup in this growing string of consecutive meetups. Of course, both Lucky & Flaco looked back at me a few times in kind regret.



“Corn” is the name these crashers are calling up to Karlsen’s window, I just discovered right when I was composing the third paragraph above. For once more some houseless fellow stood outside and hollered up, and this time I clearly heard him say “Corn!” several times over. What a shitty nickname to have.

– Zeke K-Holmes

Re: Alvin’s put himself into a bad situation, it seems
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: March 21, 2023 at 10:47 PM

> So who is the beautiful man/boy??  What’s the rest of the story? My lip is zipped, of course.

There are three emails I sent him, previous to the one forwarded to you. It took me almost an hour to put them all together in chronological order because some were already in the trash folder, some in the sent folder, and a few in my Alvin folder. They’re all short, but I’m including them so you’ll get a good idea of how our conversation evolved. I marked the email I sent (after those three), followed by the remainder of our exchanges so far, the last one being a shocker, which may piss him off royally.

On 2023-03-21 14:34, Alvin Hope wrote:

> It’s raining cats and dogs and spiders and werewolves, so it’s a busy day in the barnyard. Lots of excitement as spring vigorously goes back to winter. What ho and high ho. Yesterday was lovely, one day of warm sunshine to keep us hoping for spring. Meanwhile, the sky has opened and you know what that means! What ho and high ho. Humpty Dumpty is back on his wall, geting ready for another plunge. Aslan is about to trap the White Witch and undo all her ice palace spells.

Send me one of those them-thar werewolves, I could use the company! Just tell him he needs to bring his own toothbrush.

On 2023-03-21 15:24, Alvin Hope wrote:

> I may be dating one right now. His obsession with Anne Rice is revelatory as are his unusual and hot facial decorations. I don’t know yet how serious he is about this but have resisted the kiss on the neck while going for all manner of other excitements.

You’ll know by the next full moon.

On 2023-03-21 15:35, Alvin Hope wrote:

> I realize I am conflating werewolves with vampires. Sorry, very sloppy on my part.

Yes, I was wondering about that. I’m not the least bit attracted to vampires, but werewolves make me howl. Explains my undying devotion to Canis familiaris.

> My friend would be appalled if he is a vampire being called a werewolf.

He’d probably accuse you of pulling the wool over his eyes.

> Anyway, he’s very beautiful and I am falling in love, not what one prudently does with either vampires or werewolves. I have always admired prudence, something I may be entirely lacking.

Prudence the vampire may enjoy hearing you say that to her face.

—–  (Here’s the email I sent you:)

On 2023-03-21 16:09, Alvin Hope wrote:

> Interesting thought. It’s coming up. I will definitely plan an evening with him during that time.

I was just joking.

> It’s an extremely complex relationship so far.

What relationship isn’t?

> Opposites attract? I am surprised how strong my feelings are for this person whom I hardly know but already want to move in with. My best friend, a woman, has us on her radar, so i feel relatively safe. Plus, he’s really a nice person underneath all the same social missteps that I have. I think we both screw up a lot. All rational signals say no but I am not rational when it comes to love, lust and sex. Just go for it. Writing about him makes me think about him and I want him here right now! My hot beautiful man/boy whom I love.

I would be cautious. I’m somewhat younger than you (72) and I would not allow anyone to get so intimate with me at this advanced age. Not that anyone’s interested, mind you…thus someone who shows interest is most likely faking it. Old queers are prey for young scoundrels, and some of them can put on a really convincing act. If he’s a homeless drifter, be extra cautious. Main point of concern: you hardly know him.

Also: you have a home, money, possessions, and your health is fragile at the moment.

– Zeke

On 2023-03-21 20:29, Alvin Hope wrote:

> Totally, thank you. I will keep your words in my heart. They provide balance. I have only shared this with my two women friends and one I can tell is in my ballpark totally and the other is vague. I am much closer to women in my life than to men right now. Where I live there is almost no gay presence. When I first met him, I told him I was gay because I wanted to end it if it weren’t possible for him. He said nothing. The second time we met, he came to my house and said he had had gay experiences, too, which opened the door. Mostly, he’s one of the kindest, most thoughtful people I’ve ever met. I love sitting with him and talking. Also, he has 7 cats. Yeah. That caught my attention right there. Warmest Greetings,

7 cats? That’s a good sign, I’d say. Personally, if I met a youngish fellow whose company I’d really enjoy, I’d shoot for a warm, platonic friendship. Sex is so messy and often wrecks the relationship. He seems nervous about the gay part anyway, so putting that kind of pressure on him might drive him away. He may be considering sex only because he needs a friend, but isn’t truly into it.

On 2023-03-21 20:07, Alvin Hope wrote:

> “He’d probably accuse you of pulling the wool over his eyes.” I sense that has a deeper meaning but I can’t figure it out.

I meant it only as a pun, considering the furriness of a werewolf.

> My Dad was a master at social, loved it, and I got to watch and learn. So, tomorrow should be a lot of fun. I’m actually not too nervous. If he wears eye makeup, warrior face makeup and spikes his hair with gel, which he likes to do, it could get very interesting. I like it a lot. My woman friend is very brave with questions and my brother is a total sweetheart, so it will go well.

Good to know, have an excellent time, all of you. Let me know how it goes, please.


On 2023-03-21 20:34, Alvin Hope wrote:

> Thank you. I will. This really helps me keep it excellent.

I hope so, and wish you the best.

> I have to give a report to someone I respect.

Well, do that first, then get back to me. :D



On 2023-03-21 20:57, Alvin Hope wrote:

> Very true and very wise words. He initiated sex with us by saying, out of the blue, one evening here, “So, do you want to fool around?” I had already told him I can’t get hard and don’t come, so there was no surprise when that all proved to be true. We have been together three times now and it’s still a mystery but not a bad one. I sense that he likes me and doesn’t know how to say it, and that this is mostly new territory for him. I am very attracted to him and have told him, so I can just relax and take it easy. I know he could leave Sonora and my life and that is a possibility I don’t like at all, so we’re still in the process of making an initial real blending if it’s going to be. Yeah, the age difference is such that I would be his grandfather, not even his father, so that’s strange for us both I suspect. He is 34 and I am 82. I think we like each other but how deeply loyalty runs remains to be seen. I initially walked up to him and said hello because a very powerful voice in my head told me to do that. So strong.

Okay. Have you met his cats?

On 2023-03-21 21:11, Alvin Hope wrote:

> Yes

Where…in his van down by the river?

YOU’RE IN DANGER, Alvin, and you shouldn’t have ever invited him to your home. HE INITIATED SEX WITH YOU…that’s to win you over. I’m guessing now my joke about him pulling the wool over your eyes was a subconscious warning bubbling up before I even knew it. But a couple of emails later it suddenly clicked in:

Psychopaths are often stunningly good looking and know how to USE those looks to their advantage. They play the scintillatingly charming fellow to perfection, they are masters at it. Depending on how deep his psychopathy goes, he’ll do anything from rob you while you’re asleep (including your wallet and laptop) to refusing to leave and force you under his will, to being violent against you and your cats, to murder.

His playing modest is an ACT, like he’s almost a virgin when it comes to gay trysts, which makes him seem tastier to his prey. His “shyness” about meeting your friends is feigned: he wants to avoid meeting anyone else at your home, at all costs…or anyone else who even KNOWS you. Hopefully, then, he WON’T show up at the arranged get-together. Though he MIGHT drop over later, or another day whenever he knows the coast is clear, sex you up a few more times before he starts to go berserk on you.

This is an absurdly CLASSIC textbook setup of a young, handsome hustler hitting up an old, gay man who lives by himself in a rural town infested with right-wing troglodytes. In fact it’s so “textbook” it’s fukkin CORNY, and I’d like to think you’re just pulling my leg. UNBELIEVABLE you could ever fall for such an obvious dupe. YOU’RE 80 FUKKIN YEARS OLD! Are you perhaps on some soothing meds for your recent surgery, that turn you all lovey-dovey like MDMA? And thus in a state of poor judgment?

WAKE UP, MR. HOPE, YOU’RE IN DANGER! And I don’t know how you’re gonna drive him away peacefully, should he persist in visiting or stalking you. It is therefore my UTMOST hope the very idea your friends are gonna show up to meet him scared him away FOR GOOD.

–end (so far)

Subject: I just sent Alvin THIS addendum:
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: March 21, 2023 at 11:45 PM

He hasn’t replied to my previous message yet, but then I remembered his email where he said the dude is into Anne Rice’s vampire novels. So I posted the following:


Subject: And he’s into VAMPIRES!

For most, vampire tales are simply entertaining chills. Though SOME do take them very seriously…and, in light of what you’ve told me about this fellow, I’m guessing he takes vampirism as a solemn belief. So I decided this would be an excellent question to ask ChatGPT:

“How gruesome are Anne Rice’s vampires?”

And here’s the reply:

Anne Rice’s vampires are known for being very dark and gruesome. In her novels, Rice portrays vampires as tortured and tragic figures who are cursed to live forever as predators who must feed on human blood to survive.

Rice’s vampires are often depicted as having a fierce hunger for blood, which they satisfy by brutally attacking and feeding on their victims. The process of feeding is described in graphic detail, with Rice emphasizing the violence and horror of the act.

Additionally, Rice’s vampires are also known for their physical transformations, which can be very gruesome. For example, in her novel “Interview with the Vampire,” the protagonist Louis is described as undergoing a painful transformation as his body is transformed into a vampire. This process is depicted as both physically and emotionally traumatic.

Overall, Rice’s portrayal of vampires is known for being very dark and gruesome, emphasizing the horror and tragedy of the vampire condition.

He IS a vampire, Alvin, but I mean that metaphorically. In that such types mesmerize their prey, then suck the life force outta them.

– Zeke


Subject: Further dialog with Alvin (2 emails)
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: March 22, 2023 at 10:34 AM

On 2023-03-22 00:48, Alvin Hope wrote:

> Thanks, I’ve not thought of this but it doesn’t quite fit. Still, thank you for caring and alerting me. You have made me more accurate. I feel I’ll know more after tomorrow. Your email is like ice water. Am I woken up or frozen?

I’m not there, I haven’t met the person, and the situation is a classic setup, based on what you have reported. It fits in like a jigsaw puzzle that even a child could put together in five minutes. Of course I hope I’m wrong. Proceed with great caution. I wouldn’t even allow myself any sort of physical intimacy at my age…I’d go for a platonic friendship at best, and not reveal where I live for quite some time.

Now I’m wondering if he has so many cats because he sacrifices them?


On 2023-03-22 01:29, Alvin Hope wrote:

> This all could be true. I’ve got to be careful.

You’re already in it pretty deep.

> I’m glad my brother is coming up. He’s very low key and sweet but misses nothing. (We both are damaged in the same way by our mother who took our self-confidence away.)

Hopefully he’ll be packing heat when he arrives.

> It’s hard living up here in such loneliness. I have met two guys after I got out of the hospital, neither really able to lovingly reciprocate.

Even nice people keep their distance because you never know with strangers until it’s too late. Our society has fragmented…no more casual hangouts or hobby groups to congregate and get to know people. Except churches, gun clubs and Trump rallies: all right-wing venues. Otherwise it’s all been relegated to cyberspace, a weak alternative. The public commons has been destroyed.

> Haven’t had this problem before

Most gay people have; you’re an exception. Though I think you should’ve been aware of this dark side all along, considering all the bashing, terrorism and killing going on against LGBTs. And how most churches preach hatred against them. Been going on for centuries, some eras more violent than others, like an up and down wave on a statistical chart.

> and wonder if it’s some late life lesson I have to learn.

I doubt it. Other than an opportunity to stand up against evil…assuming my conjecture about him is correct.

> Never felt lonely and needy but do now. Wonder if it’s because I lived with so many people coming in and out of my room in hospitals for so long that I got used to it. Not sure, just different now.

Feeling lonely and needy is a state of mind, like any other emotion. I got over it some years back. Whenever such feelings well up I nip ’em in the bud, reminding myself that’s an immature reaction and I know better.

> Don’t have male friends here and miss the masculine vibe a lot. All my friends are loving sweet caring women.

I’d give my eye teeth to have a good friend in my world, male or female or anywhere in between, who I can meet up with on a frequent basis. Count your blessings, Alvin. I DO have an excellent friend, and have for years…though it’s via the Internet only, a wonderful woman. So my best friends I get to actually SEE are of a different species, and their names are Flaco & Lucky. Their owner, however, leaves much to be desired in the way of friendship.

> I may have retarded development and am going backward.

I don’t think so, it’s just that your situation with “vampire boy” is both strange and alarming. You are acting like you’re under the influence of a powerful, tranquilizing drug (with consequent poor judgment)…and I’m guessing that’s from the medication you take to heal from surgery.

> My Mom wanted to destroy me and I feel like she may be finally succeeding. Maybe that is what is going to happen. There are haters in my family so I know all about that. It’s not me and it’s not lasting. Love is lasting I know.

Time to love thyself above and beyond anyone else…this is an emergency!

> Tomorrow is a new day and will be better. I hope it warms up. I want to wake up smiling.

One can CHOOSE to wake up smiling, regardless of the weather. And regardless of anything else for that matter, in spite of one’s difficulties. Trust the Great Spirit that all crises resolve themselves peaceably, no matter how scary the situation appears. Psalm 23:4:

“Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil; For You are with me; Your rod and Your staff, they comfort me.”

BTW: what ARE this fellow’s “unusual and hot facial decorations,” as you say. What kind of symbols or designs in particular? Do they show the clean lines and solid colors of a professional tattoo artist, or do they appear more “homemade?” The latter would suggest gang member affiliation or time in prison. Though some are just into primitive self decoration without any dark background. Nonetheless, unsettling. I am sure your brother will be seriously putt off by that alone.

Does he ever speak of Buddhist, Native American or other illuminating influences? How well educated is he? I am assuming he’s homeless, maybe lives out of a vehicle, travels around…seeing as you have not divulged his living situation yet. Nothing wrong with that per se, but other things you’ve told me about him sound the alarm in my brain.

–end (for now)

Frigga & Pluto

October 6, 2022

[BRINDLEKIN TALES – Book 6: Chapter 15]

Subject: Scampy Packs Up Her Bedding [22 sec. video]
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: October 3, 2022 at 10:01 AM

After a full night camping out at the ATM depot below my window, with Deek and one or two others, she packs up to leave in the morning. All the bedding and bags are loaded onto a discarded, swivel office chair.

New developments w/Deek, too busy to write it all out at the moment, watching the pups outside. Will get around to a full update soon.

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

Subject: 2 quick pics
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: October 3, 2022 at 10:23 AM

Preparing two buttered English muffins, then stepping back out again to be with the doggies while I break fast. Gotta go!

Click here for a larger view.

Subject: Deek Finally Returns
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: October 3, 2022 at 6:10 PM

5:10 PM…meaning I was on the streets with the pups for seven fukkin hours! I was able to fix my breakfast (and later, lunch) and take it outside, walk the hounds twice, lie down and listen to Marshall McGee’s latest “Memo of the Weird” podcast on my tablet. Who BTW narrated my “I CAN’T KEEP UP WITH HIS CRAP!” post last Friday, that I accidentally sent off to the MCN lists. THAT is certainly an unexpected repercussion…I’ll never live it down, now!

Two very unique people stopped by at different times…one I know but haven’t seen for three years (Vince), the other (Sean) I don’t, but he imparted a lot of Bodhisattva wisdom with me outta the blue, much to my surprise and delight. Including my suspicion there are many shamans in the guise of vagrants.

Even Deek’s ex-girlfriend Scampy showed up for about an hour, and lay down by the mutts for a nap. She was still there when Deek returned, and he started hollering at her: “WAKE UP! WAKE UP!” She finally did, to which he noted: “Good! You’re alive!”

And that is when I realized he did a wellness check on her, common among homeless addicts.

– Zeke K-Holmes

Subject: The tent arrived!
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: October 3, 2022 at 6:32 PM

I cracked up when I saw the slogan on one end of the elongated box…in light of its purpose for my particular mission. In MY context, it’s like declaring: “Go homeless & enjoy life.”

Subject: Tent too big to set up in my room!
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: October 3, 2022 at 10:46 PM

The cot on one side, and the storage bins on the other, make the floor space too narrow. So I’ll just practice setting it up and breaking it down outside. Easy peasy. EXCELLENT material, so durable and strong for something so thin! Anyway, time for another Deek Update:

He woke me early this morning and asked me to watch dogs while he gets other stuff done. Wow! I had to skip breakfast sitting outdoors, but it was worth it, anything for the pooches…and their master return three hours later. Set up a few large sheets of cardboard, threw those four doggy blankets I purchased down, fed and watered my brindlekin…and I even went around the corner for my Rosenberg’s morning brew.

But he first left the mutts leashed to his cart out front, near the bus stop…and about a half hour later Micah appeared out of nowhere, behind my back, and started pawing through Deek’s cart. He was muttering did he steal my boots, did he give you a new phone ’cause I think he stole mine, I can’t get anywhere out here on the streets if people keep taking my things, I’ve taught some of ’em a lesson before with a rebar, etc.

I didn’t say a word other than no, he didn’t give me a new phone and no, I don’t see a pair of boots in there…and kept the doggies close to me, wishing he’d disappear. After a few more minutes he finally walked away and only took from the cart what looked to be a can of WD-40. I decided then to move pups and cart around the corner, because too many crazies come by on this side of Market Street, attracted by the ATM alcove and the Hohokum smoke and paraphernalia shop. But Deek’s idea, albeit stupid, was I could watch Flaco & Lucky from my window while setting up his new smartphone (yes, he DID give me a new one, but that’s no one’s business. let alone Micah’s. He could be making this up, and claim ANY new phone Deek has to be his)

When I told Deek about it, he was of course furious. “Now I gotta beat him up!” I said no you don’t, there’s never an excuse for violence and hatred. Well, Wattson, he doesn’t care to see how similar he is to Micah when he gets in a mood! They both act like bullies, like they’re such tough, mean dudes.

Anyway, he asked me for a hundred dollars to get a really good speaker, but I reminded him it’s the end of the month and he’ll just have to wait till tomorrow. Besides, I said no way I’m gonna give you that much, you’ll get fifty as usual. And that if he needs more money he can always sell product, which would be either bud or glass.

He slept all night in the ATM nook, in the company of Scampy and one or two others…but they all departed some time after midnight, leaving Deek and furry charges to their rest. Cacophony broke out two hours later, thanks to some crazy A-hole who showed up, screaming and tossing bottles and cans into the street. That went on interminably long, at least a half hour. There was also a straight vagrant couple arguing out front at the same time. Needless to say, all this disturbance aroused the brindlekin, and they barked like wild. But they all finally dispersed, including Deek, who was already packing things up shortly after the A-hole wrecked the peace.

I decided to give him the full one hundred, since he promised he wouldn’t ask for anything for another week. So when he showed up this morning, before I marched on over to Chase, he requested I give it to him in all fives. Why, I asked, if you’re gonna spend most of it on a speaker? Hmm, I mused aloud, sounds like you have OTHER plans for that money. Never mind, he replied, it just looks better if you’re seen with a fat wad in your hand.

He also had a bit of a hissy fit about how always having the dogs around blocks him from getting other things done, so he might leave ’em with me all day. Realizing how rotten it is that they can’t reside with me any more, I figure I owe it to him to make the sacrifice and adapt to this new situation…for it IS awful to be so constricted.

I went ahead and withdrew twenty fivers, and he was delighted when I handed him the envelope. He had set the mutts and cart up behind my building, realizing now the good sense it makes to not park everything in front. I met that fascinating fellow, Sean, who essentially affirmed some of my Bodhisattva theories, as if he were a guardian himself to cheer me on. I gave him my card before he departed.

Vince, OTOH, has had it rough, been in prison for a total of five years (not consecutively, though). But he was SO grateful to spend some friendly time with me this afternoon. He has a LOT of respect for me, and I’ve never felt him to be a threat…he’s just has an edgy nature that disturbs my restful state of mind. However, I realized it was a good time to touch bases again, and I told him I’ll be out here quite often, and we can do this again soon.

Deek returned around 5 PM, with his new speaker, fairly large but not unwieldy. He was pleased to hear I was able to fix myself a quick meal and step back out with it, and that I took them for a walk not once but TWICE. Showed him a red cord that I will tie to the nearby post, to indicate I’m taking the dogs for a stroll. That way he need not panic, or start screaming up to my window. Until this morning, he was strict with my leaving the pups out there for more than a minute or two…but now he says I can take longer, so I can fix myself a meal. And he’d prefer I walk them and not worry about watching his cart, there’s never anything valuable in it.

He’s been crashed out back there since six o’clock, dead to the world. I brought the hounds their evening meal a little later, and took that snapshot of him sleeping, that I’ve already sent you. He had wrapped himself in a warm, colorful comforter, and did not forget to keep the canines covered as well. It’s now almost 10 PM, and a few minutes ago I heard the dogs barking. I figured he’s gotten up and packing to leave, so I stepped out to tell him both phones are at a hundred percent, and his Bluetooth speaker light is now green.

But as it turned out, Deek was still sound asleep while the doggies barked away, probably at some rowdiness from passersby crossing the street…or maybe that vagrant wrapped up in a blanket against the building’s wall about twenty feet away, stirred in his sleep, and the dogs went on alert. I heard him say when I peered out the hallway window to see what’s up, hey! hey! c’mon, I’m tryin’ to get some rest here!

So I donned jacket and shoes to step back outside and comfort the canines. They quieted down posthaste, and all it took was to caress them a bit; they lied down again and went back to sleep. The REAL trick is to cover their heads as well, for once out of sight, out of mind.

Anyway, that’s where I stand now, regarding my new adventure being a quasi-street person myself. Hope you have an elegant and peaceful evening, good physician! Perhaps Marshall’s latest reading of one of my tales will help lull you to sleep, it’s just under 5 minutes.

– Zeke K-Holmes

Click here for a larger view.

Subject: Deek just makes things more and more difficult!
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: October 4, 2022 at 3:39 PM

This morning he claimed it’s too dirty and dusty behind the building, so guess what, Wattson…no doubt he wants to force me to stay with the dogs right out front! But before he said that, he showed me some dog vomit he says is Lucky’s, and it has red coloration.

“Doesn’t look like blood to me,” I observed. “More like dye or food coloring from something he snatched up off the sidewalk.”

He also claims they have worms, and I need to schedule another vet appointment. Which is actually impossible, because you need to prove you’re homeless with a signed notice from a social worker, after the first time you bring your pet(s) there. Attached is an actual copy of the form required. As for worms:

He doesn’t know the diff between heart worms and tapeworms, claims they have the former ’cause they keep scooting their butts. I tried to explain to him heart worms don’t make ’em do that, and they’re not a problem here in the city because no mosquitoes. And tapeworms are easy to treat, but the pups don’t have ’em as there’s no evidence in their poop. He said he took a semester of veterinarian classes, and I don[t know anything about raising dogs. What a SCHMUCK!

He said look at the dogs, they have no energy and their noses are dry and hot. No energy? They just got up and it’s damp with a gray sky. Besides which, I checked their noses and told them they’re cool and wet. IOW nothing’s wrong with the hounds, but everything is with their master.

Then he complained about the cushy blankets and coats he slept in last night, that they’re full of bugs and made him itchy. I said nonsense, I sat and laid down on them, too…they’re reasonably clean and I found NO bugs on ’em. Jeez!

He also griped that Lucky was barking all night, kept him awake, to which I replied that’s not true, they only barked for a few minutes until I stepped out to comfort them. They were quiet and slept soundly otherwise.

“Well, Lucky was barking at me to let him off the leash so he could go and puke his brains out over there!”

Also a lie, because the rare times he pukes, he just does it without a single bark, yelp or howl whatsoever. But he DOES need to lay down cardboard if nothing else, so they won’t have to rest on the concrete, because there’s plenty of GLASS pieces so small you can’t see them, all over the city. A dog could pick up such a piece with some food scrap, that COULD cause them to bleed inside and show up in their puke. It could even KILL the poor doggy.

Anyway, at least he didn’t fly into a rage…but that was probably due to the presence of OTHER houseless folks this morning, including Filipino Kai, Scampy and Boulevard Joe. Before Deek left, I told him I left a voicemail with VetSOS, as well as sent them an email…but I don’t think they’ll set up an appointment until he provides PROOF he’s living on the streets. And you CAN’T do that will seeing a social worker.

Once he was gone from there, I asked Blvd. Joe if there were any way around getting a social worker’s verification for a houseless person to take their dog to a vet. He said no, there isn’t, that MOST vagrants never see a social worker anyway. But the ASPCA will take care of your dog in an emergency, though with stipulations, such as: if it appears to be dying they won’t try to revive it, and if it needs surgery you’re fuck outta luck.

“So they just take their chances with their dog for the most part, no checkups or preventative treatments?” I queried.

“Yep,” he replied, “That’s the way it is on the streets.”

And I guess that goes for rabies and other shots as well, though I forgot to ask him about that. They CAN go to the VetSOS clinic ONCE, and one time only, for those vaccines, but after that, no dice without a social worker’s verification. VERY tragic, IMO.

I sincerely doubt Deek will ever get around to hooking up with a social worker, due to his dubious history out of Louisiana, including child support and deity only knows WHAT else! Blvd. Joe says if he DOES see a social worker, all that past will catch up with him. So there ya have it, good doctor: damned if ya don’t (’cause the doggies do without health care), and DOUBLE damned if you do (’cause you could go to jail and/or be penalized in some other ways)! Be that as it may:

The mutts are their usual, loving and playful selves now that the sun is out and the chill has dissipated. I fed them breakfast and they ate well. I don’t think either one is ill or infected in any way possible. Count our blessings! As for what is to be done about where I’ll sit the dogs outside:

Hopefully, still around the corner, assuming Deek gets off the bullshit train. Otherwise, I fear he’ll make the outdoor arrangement far more difficult for both yours truly and the brindlekin.

– Zeke K-Holmes


Also, Flaco’s sweater is gone, though Lucky still is wearing his! I asked him a couple of times where it is, I’ll put it back on. He mumbled something incoherent and did NOT comply. I was SO tempted to start pawing through his cart, but didn’t ’cause he’d just start screaming at me. That little darlin’ dog has to suffer the chills because of his apparent sadism. And then he has the nerve to fake their being sick and dump it all on me. What’s his end game, Wattson…destruction and misery?

Price of dog food keeps going up, and Amazon seems to have run out of the larger economy bags and cartons for the moment at least. The Rachel brand of dry dog food, which I like and is reasonably priced, appears only to have unreliable sellers anymore! In fact, there is only one distributor now, charging $45 for a 14 pound bag that normally costs $18. These past few months ordering dog food (both kibble and canned) has become a problem trying to keep the price down, or ordering a particular brand you prefer. I actually have THREE different brands I favor, but ALL of them are out of stock for the economy sizes…or have one or two dubious sellers who’ve marked up the price dramatically.

But let us not forget the advice of my Bodhisattva Premise: don’t worry, be happy. So I’ll drop my angst over Deek’s latest shitty behavior and trust the Divine Googly Face, that all shall come out “okely dokely” in the wash.

Click here to watch the video.

Subject: Kevin from Across the Street [14 sec. video]
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: October 4, 2022 at 5:23 PM

He’s on the way out, in more ways than one…his ambulatory days may soon be over. But then who will step in to replace him? I just happened to peer out the window as I grabbed a slice of toasted raisin bread from my little oven …and figured to grab my camera and shoot.

Subject: Did you see what George Dennis Posted?
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: October 4, 2022 at 5:51 PM

I never expected THIS from Mr. Dennis!

–begin forwarded email:

On Tue, 4 Oct 2022 11:19:27 -0700 George Dennis wrote:

> Spike Dequeers and the homo qweers have gotten somethin over on me
Litttle Spikey Queer and his Homo Squires Took over the list

Gee, Mr. Dennis, that's a fucked up thing to say about myself and
Alvin, just because we're gay! What the hell is wrong with you, dude? I gave you TONS of support regarding Mr. Dewar's horrific threats towards you. But after you just threw two decent gay people under the bus, you lost any further support.

- Zeke Krahlin


Re: Did you see what George Dennis Posted?
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: October 4, 2022 at 6:25 PM

> I missed this one. He’s pretty crazy. I like your answer to him a lot.

Hoisted by his own petard, what a fool. I don’t feel sorry for him, as homophobia cancels out any kind regard I may have had.

Re: Did you see what George Dennis Posted?
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: October 4, 2022 at 7:36 PM

> Agreed. Or even just exploiting homophobia.

Right. Because George’s playing it the way he did nonetheless legitimizes shamefulness for being “queer.” He may think holding up a mirror is a good tactic, but it’s still homophobia. Did I grasp your point correctly?

Re: Did you see what George Dennis Posted?
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: October 4, 2022 at 9:55 PM

> I think he’s the worst kind of hypocrite–he probably isn’t truly homophobic, but is willing to use homophobic slurs in order to seem “edgy” and “cool.” Never mind that he harms actual people in the process.

So he’s stupid. I was coming to that conclusion already, with his strange posts of recent vintage. Let’s see how he responds to my retort, if he does at all. At any rate, he’s placed himself in the same corner as Mr. Sewers. Ms. Merang is a piece of work as well!

– Zeke K-Holmes

Subject: Just as I thought, Vet SOS won’t see him…
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: October 5, 2022 at 10:05 AM

..without a signed paper from a social worker. Here is their email back to me, in my message requesting to set up an appointment:

“I’ve saved Zach an appointment for our November 14th clinic at 11:45am. The clinic will be at the SF SPCA parking lot [24 Florida ST.] again. We are supposed to have an eligibility letter completed by a case manager or services provider attesting to a client’s housing status before their second visit. Would you be willing to pass along the attached form to Deek and tell him that he should have a case manger or services provider complete the form for him?”

So his ONLY option is the ASPCA’s emergency clinic, which is open 24 hours. Be that as it may, I have a NEW concern, regarding his tossing kibble right onto the sidewalk, instead of placing it on a sheet of cardboard or newspaper when he doesn’t have a bowl:

Glass fragments…they’re all over the city, some so tiny you can’t see them, even if you clear the sidewalk of debirs as best you can. Deek had tossed some kibble on the ground at our spot behind my building, where there WERE glass shards nearby which he FAILED to sweep away first. I did that a day or two later when I sat the dogs. Nonetheless he should NEVER force them to eat right off the sidewalk, as they could easily pick up a glass bit in their food. Heck, not just glass, but a sliver of chicken bone, hard plastic or metal.

Also a very good reason not to force them to lie down directly on the concrete, as a tiny sliver of glass or whatever could get in their fur; they’ll lick it off while cleaning themselves, and they could wind up swallowing it.

Of course he’ll probably scream me down as I try to explain this to him, because he wants to blame everything on me, and he knows all about raising dogs, don’t tell HIM about raising dogs. But one way or another I’ll make sure he listens. Deek is the King of Needless Misery and Crises.

– Zeke K-Holmes

From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: October 5, 2022 at 10:05 AM

Deek dropped the dogs off around 1:30 PM, and we camped out by the bus stop for a few hours, then when a chill wind kicked up, I moved our little family to the ATM depot for better shelter. Their master didn’t return until 7:45 PM, but apologized for being so late.

He was a bit pissy when he dropped the dogs off, yelled even when he saw me walk them around the corner…so that’s why the bus stop today. Which was okay, as the weather was great, and had I not been at that location I would have never met this incredible woman, Frigga Raisa Kady.

She ordered a meal at Super Duper and sat outside, smiled at me and admired the pups…and the conversation took off from there. The back and front sides of her business card are attached to this email. She no longer works as a tattoo artist, but she IS quite the artist. Told me she just got an award for her graphic novel, so I searched her name and, sure enough, here ’tis.

The Institute for Anarchist Studies, of all things…now THAT’S my kinda gal! She’s an activist of many causes, including Gay Shame. In a little while, Frigga joined me on the sidewalk and sat beside Lucky, and very much enjoyed hearing about my activism as an advocate for homeless LGBTs. Told her about my street friend, Deek, who owns these hounds, and I dog sit for him so he can run his errands without having to pay constant attention to them. I even told her a bit about Randolph Taylor.

Towards the end of our badinage, she said: “How’d ya like to be on Instagram?”

“Fine with me, I said, take all the pictures you want!”

So she snapped away, including a selfie of us. THE FIRST SELFIE I’VE EVER BEEN PART OF! She now has my own card, “Brindlekin Tales,” so can check out my writing and activist adventures.

“You should be famous by now!” she exclaimed.

“I agree,” I replied, “but everything in its own good time.”

“Well, I’m here for you now, so get ready for the boost! You’re a very good man, Zeke, you deserve it.”

I cracked up: “Gee, everything’s going so fast in my world all of a sudden like!”

The woman’s amazing: outgoing, cheerful, wisecracking and robust. She’s a large lady, though not obese. You would LOVE her, Wattson. I even brought YOU up, as my greatest confidant and supporter of my writings, and in more than half the chapters of “Free Me From This Bond.”

Gee, can you imagine my writing finally taking off, as a gift to the queer community, and Frigga my illustrator? Now get this:

In the middle of our delightful conversation while she still sat at the table, Boulevard Joe came walking by AND THEY KNOW EACH OTHER! Very well, it seems. But he didn’t stay to join us, so I know little at this point about their relationship. But I surely will bring her up next time I see Joe.

I just emailed Frigga to make our contact firm, and included my phone number. Meanwhile, shortly before Deek returned, I decided to get a cheap bean and cheese burrito two doors down, because I didn’t wanna spend too long upstairs ’cause the dogs would be left alone for too many minutes. It was only $5.95 and I brought a cup of my own soda from my fridge. Only cost ME ninety-five cents, since some very young fellow around 11 years old stopped by this afternoon where I was seated with the pups, and handed me two dollars. And two days before, some sweet little old Asian lady gave me three dollars to help me out.

Deek was very pleasant upon his return, and I am now upstairs while he’s resting below, waiting for his newest smartphone to reach a hundred percent, which is just about now, I think. But if I find him sleeping when I tell him the phone’s ready, I’ll just leave it in my room…along with two speakers and a battery back. Just so they won’t get stolend, ’cause he snoozes like nobody’s business…a bomb could drop and it wouldn’t even make him stir.

– Zeke K-Holmes

P.S.: Oh, yeah, and a young fellow who works at Super Duper stepped out a little while after Frigga departed, and offered me a generous serving of French fries and asked if I would like some ketchup with that. I said sure, thanks!


Frigga does a ton of activism in the Tenderloin, and invited me to attend some events with her. I told her I’d LOVE to go, but I have a major obligation to remain at home base, for the sake of Deek and his doggies. I found her website, it’s all about her tattoo art…but it’s temporarily offline. Yet an image search got me her photo from that site, see pic. I’m guessing the snapshot was taken 15-20 years ago, as she has a more filled out face and has dyed her hair blond. But you can see the Native American in her! And according to that anarchist page, she was then living on Ohlone land in Oakland. And she’s bipolar, like myself, Deek, and I guess you, eh, Wattson? The mark of the true artist, I suppose.

She very much enjoyed my telling her about my being an anthropology major, focusing on Native American culture. “Do you have some Native American in you?” she queried. I said, “Nope,” then described my incredible advisor who was half Sioux and half German, Erhard Krause.

So the Great Spirit has come to me once more, this time through a most incredible Native American lady, definitely a shaman, a medicine woman!

– Zeke K-Holmes

From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: October 5, 2022 at 11:20 PM

> Fantastic report. Where can I see the selfies??

I have no idea. I imagine once she responds to my email, she’ll give me a link or send them to me, maybe via smartphone.

> I love it that people are giving you “donations!”

Isn’t that a hoot! I have to admit: trickster Deek knows what he’s doing!

> It was a day and a night and a morning of drama here: about a week ago, Erwin went and got a puppy at the Humane Society without actually consulting me. He’d talked about it recently, I said I didn’t think it was a good idea at the present time, for all sorts of reasons. But he went to Fort Bragg to do errands, and decided to go get a puppy and bring it home, knowing that would be half the battle. Turns out the puppy, 4 or 5 months old, though cute as he can be, is totally untrained, hyper energetic, needy, leaps and barks and flings himself against a door if you put him on the other side of it. Surely is being a good sport, but he gets a little grumpy with the pup from time to time, so there are occasional sharp yips that make me jump out of my skin. The cats took it pretty well, though Princess Butterball didn’t go out for a whole week, wanting to avoid the whirlwind of puppy exuberance. Lots of chaos.

> Welp, yesterday afternoon, Erwin took both dogs with him on an expedition to the woods behind the house. The K through 8 school is on the other side of those woods, with a big playground on the side nearest to us. I can hear kids on the playground in the morning, far enough away and muffled by the thick woods between us so that it’s not irritating or sleep-disrupting, but distant and pleasant, dream-like, happy kids shouting and playing and yelling. Sometime during that walk, Erwin turned around and the puppy was gone. Called and called, tramped around for hours, both of us, as darkness fell, feeling ever more hopeless and certain he’d been eaten by a mountain lion. I posted on the Announce list, on Nextdoor and on a FB Lost Pet page. Went out again close to midnight, called and called, sinking into real despair, and of course, guilt.

> Woke early (for me) this morning, checked my phone, found a text: “We have your puppy at the K-8 office!” I called, and the gal said a teacher had found the puppy running around on the playground (late, no kids present), took him home for the night, where the teacher’s 7-y.o. son fell in love with him, wanted to keep him, but somebody saw my Lost Dog post, so the teacher brought him back to the school, where Erwin picked him up this AM. They’d set him up with a pad, food, and water, people and kids loving on him like crazy. When we got him home, it was as if he’d gone to an overnight Total Immersion Doggy training camp: he was much calmer, slept most of the day, didn’t rush after the cats or leap on us too much. As he rested up, his wild puppy energy returned, and here we are.

That is quite a doggy tale, Wattson! As I was reading about the family that found the pup, I anticipated you and Erwin deciding to gift them with it. But things turned out well, nonetheless. I saw your post about a lost doggy, but I thought you were doing a friend a favor, had no idea it was YOURS. So what is the doggy’s name?

– Zeke K-Holmes

P.S.: When you said I’d have adventures while dog-sitting on the street, I didn’t expect them to be so grand! You hit bullseye on this one, Wattson!

From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: October 5, 2022 at 11:39 PM

> Wow!!! She’s fantastic! And yes, you can see the Aboriginal in her, clearly! When I was younger, people sometimes thought I had some of that, too. I didn’t, but I let them think it!

I wonder if she lived on Ohlone land as a homeless person, maybe set up a tipi. Yes, she’s fantastic…like an angel descending from the sky to be my friend.

> Alas, I’m not bipolar…

There’s still hope! I only included you just to be silly.

> I have a solid core of sanity and self-control, made of some sort of tungsten steel. It serves me well, but it’s also to my detriment, because people discover they can pile their troubles on me and I’m incapable of breaking. Pair that with my pathologically compassionate nature, and…well, you get the picture.

“Pathologically compassionate:” has a nice ring to it.

> What I do have is a dark, deep, far-flung imagination, a molten lava core of anxiety and a lot of existential dread. It serves me in my art and my thinking, and I’ve learned how not to let it out of its cage so that it turns on me.

Extraterrestrial dread: fear of waking up on another planet.

> BTW, my bro’s and my best friend in childhood had a bipolar mother. She was the real deal–two months up, two months down, a wild roller coaster ride. She was by far the most fun grownup when she was in her “up” cycle. We kids were crazy about her. You may remember her from DEATH IN SLOW MOTION, pseudonamed “Katrina.”

A prophecy of the hurricane, perhaps. Her down cycles must’ve been horrendous. Well, tomorrow’s another day, another adventure! I could tell by Deek’s broad grin how pleased he was over my devotion to the pups. I sat by them the entire day, those two, happy little elves! And I gave him no grief over being gone so long. Instead, I told him that’s fine, I had a nice time.

When I delivered his charged devices, I thought he might have fallen asleep, so I first brought him just two of the three phones, rather than lug everything down. Easier to carry two phones back upstairs. To my surprise, he was wide awak, chatting away with two other vagrants, one of whom I know already, and who’s name is also Deek. He said hi and handed me this bottle of Gatorade that had no sugar in it, but concentrated watermelon juice. I’m sure I’ll enjoy ice cold in the morning!

I told Deek a bit about meeting Frigga, and how she and Hollywood are friends. And that, had I camped out behind the building, we’d’ve never met! He wished me a very good night, and thanked me for doing such a good job keeping the mutts safe. I told him I have a lot of writing to catch up on before hitting the sack…but I’m not complaining because the hounds come first.

– Zeke K-Holmes

Subject: I keep forgetting Deek is Native American in part, himself…
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: October 6, 2022 at 12:19 PM

…and it shows, in his hairless face and body. Images swept through my mind this morning, soon as I arose from my cot: about Deek being “Indian” himself, and how a vital connection and elevation of his material status will ensue, thanks to Frigga’s intervention. Not through any direct gifting on her part, but from the benevolent machinations of the Great Spirit sparked by our remarkable first meetup. Among these visions was Deek smiling at me, that he’s been guiding me along, and the latest was him forcing me to sit the dogs by the bus stop, that I hook up with Frigga.

Stupid old white fool that I am, I was under the mistaken notion that a Native American shows up in my world every seven years or so, to affirm my mission and commend me…which is how things seemed to be, because that is what’s been going on for decades. But this morning’s string of visions knocked sense into me, which is:

I’ve had one such indigenous person by my side for more than twelve years! And all his difficult maneuvers were either challenges to stand strong and not cave in (so I could move forward), or just his brotherly way of joking. For example, he KNOWS it would be a bad direction to have him enter my building anymore, but he berates me now and then over this, just to test my will…or simply to enjoy witnessing my noble choice NOT to have him visit, for the sake of a greater cause. Which includes preserving our friendship for the sake of the doggies at least.

But on a grander arc, these visions that came rushing to me immediately upon awakening, were an assurance and a celebration that a BIG breakthrough is coming down my pike, and very soon.

Among the many topics we discussed, I told Frigga how I’ve concluded there are many shamans on the street, and Deek is one of them.

“What KIND of shaman is he…a trickster?” she queried.

“Oh yes, definitely,” I replied.

“So he dumps a lotta shit on you!” was her comeback, and not without a hearty chuckle.

“Yep, that’s the way of a trickster,” I agreed with a shrug. “And he KNOWS how much I love these dogs, so I put up with a TON of shit than I would otherwise, for their sake.”

I understand she ALSO has a dog, Wattson, but she didn’t get into what breed, it’s name, etc. At any rate, she’s really big into DC and Marvel comic books, which I’m not, so when she asked me which superhero I think she resembles, I told her I have no idea. I’m not sure I remember correctly, but I THINK she said “Magneto,” which I later looked up in Wikipedia:

“The character is a powerful mutant, one of a fictional subspecies of humanity born with superhuman abilities, who has the ability to generate and control magnetic fields. Magneto regards mutants as evolutionarily superior to humans and rejects the possibility of peaceful human-mutant coexistence; he initially aimed to conquer the world to enable mutants, whom he refers to as homo superior, to replace humans as the dominant species. Writers have since fleshed out his origins and motivations, revealing him to be a Holocaust survivor whose extreme methods and cynical philosophy derive from his determination to protect mutants from suffering a similar fate at the hands of a world that fears and persecutes mutants.”

Frigga is also into astrology and tarot cards, so of course she asked what sun sign I am. “Cancer,” I said, and she made some favorable remark about that, but to which I paid no mind. She then asked me which tarot card I think she resembles. I told her I have no idea, but guessed “The Fool?”

“No, but that works, too,” she replied, then went off on the particular card that best represents her, though again I didn’t pay much attention, and have now forgotten. Not that I was being rude, but sitting there alongside a busy street, the din of traffic blurred her words at times, and I got tired of tilting my head/cupping my ear and asking, “What? Could you say that again?”

When I told Deek about my meeting this incredible person, Frigga, he interjected:

“Did you tell her those dogs aren’t yours, but belong to a good friend who is homeless? Or did you suck up all the credit for yourself?”

“Of COURSE I told her about you,” I quickly shot back, “and that I dog sit so you can run your errands without delay. In fact I spoke VERY WELL of you!”

He then retorted: “Does she wanna get fucked?”

Jebus Cripe, Wattson, I get so tired of his macho game, but it WAS funny. “No I don’t think so, Deek. She’s lesbian.”

Upon reflection, I think my reply was needlessly somber, and I thus regret not snapping back with a witty repartee such as:

“How would I know, Deek? I’ll ask her next time we conversate.”

Everything clicked into place as a result of these merciful visions: that Deek’s Native American spirit explains EVERYthing about his nature: mercurial and often over the top, and his trickster psyche. Thank the Great Spirit he’s not alcoholic to boot! Meth is actually a superior addiction by comparison.

You should also know that before I got beyond writing the first sentence of this missive, I stepped outside to purchase my morning brew…at Rosenberg’s of course. There is a NEW cashier these days: a young gentleman from Punjab! He’s quite amicable, though not particularly garrulous as Sa’daa was. And I say “was,” because apparently she is no longer working there, as I haven’t seen her for almost three weeks. I miss our delightful chats immensely. Be that as it may:

I sat down upon the steps of a corner shop to take some sips of java before continuing on hovel, as I always do, just to start the day right. Not that I wouldn’t appreciate a more pastoral view instead of this urban scene of a starbust intersection with vehicles rattling by and all-too-frequent jackhammers pounding my eardrums…but it is what it is. It was actually pretty quiet this morning. Wouldn’t you know it, good physician:

I espied Boulevard Joe at the far corner, preparing to cross the intersection on a bicycle. So I called loudly to him and waved: he heard me and veered in my direction. Once he arrived, I asked:

“What do you think of Frigga, I was really impressed with our first conversation!”

To my disappointment, his answer was a jejune “She’s okay.”

“You mean she’s kinda nutty?” I retorted.

“Yeah,” was his brief reply.

“Well, she must’ve been going through a stupendous MANIC cycle when we met yesterday!” I humorously concluded. “I very much enjoyed our tête-à-tête!”

I went on to describe our talk with relish, speculating that this may be the connection I’ve been hoping for, that will boost my own efforts to aid the homeless in spectacular ways, starting with Deek…then spreading beyond him, to benefit MANY.

“As you know, whatever boons come to me will also benefit the homeless, because of my dedication TO that cause,” I exclaimed with pride.

Joe nodded his head in agreement, though I sensed he had somewhere to be. I’m not surprised, as he’s a major influence among the local indigents and thus is burdened with responsibilities that go along with that role.

“She’s Native American, isn’t she?” I queried.

“Yes, I believe she is,” he answered.

“So is Deek, though I often forget that,” I elaborated, “There is something profound and hopeful about my meeting Frigga, which I believe will wind up benefiting Deek immensely. After all, he’s not gonna get a roof over his head or make any other improvement in his life in the usual manner, since he refuses to hook up with a social worker.”

“Yes, that’s right,” he acknowledged.

“So there’s gotta be some OTHER way to get the ball rolling,” I declared, “and I suspect the Great Spirit’s intervention will be his key to success, rather than the status quo. And I sense Frigga will play a part in this…maybe by interviewing Deek and posting pics and videos of him on Instagram and other social media. More people could reach out to him as a result.”

There was something else I needed to know from Blvd. Joe before he took off: “What is the name of that other Native American, that lady with the dog who’s Inuit?”

He looked at me in confusion. “Eskimo!” I stated.

“Oh! That’s Verity,” he replied.

“Thanks, I’d forgotten her name, but I hope this time it will stick. She’s been here now for how long, maybe a decade?”

“Yes, that sounds right,” he affirmed.

“Well, I know you’re running errands, so I don’t wanna keep you any longer. You’re a shaman, too, so I’m sure you grasp everything I’ve just said. Thanks so much for stopping by, Joe!”

And off he went. Now here’s an observation I now share with you, Wattson:

Don’t you find it curious that Boulevard Joe should make himself available to me, so soon after my meetup with Frigga, that I could ask about her? And that he made a point of strolling on by DURING my conversation with her yesterday?


– Zeke K-Holmes

From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: MCN announce, MCN discussion
Date: October 6, 2022 at 12:52 PM

On 2022-10-06 11:30, Lisa Harwood wrote:

> Glad you are contemplating (and perhaps seeking) publication of Brindlekin Tales. You are an engaging diaryist, Zeke. Your writings are a consistent Boswell-esque eye-view of a particular sector of San Francisco. There is a greater local audience out there for Brindlekin Tales. I hope someone helps you find it.

Thank you for such a kind compliment and your continued support, Lisa! I have had to hold back on releasing my latest chapters, because of a lawsuit. And, since you’re not allowed to discuss it while it’s going on, and since it has become intermingled with my Brindlekin Tales, my recent chapters are all on hold, though written out and backed up for later release. They total a grand 15 by now, and still growing!

But I have become tired of holding off on all the other scenarios composing my tales, so I’ve decided to start posting again, those scenes that do not include the lawsuit. Which I am well on the way of overturning and coming out of it with spectacular gains. I have a crackerjack attorney through Bay Area Legal Aid, a young woman from the Netherlands, and is the Senior Attorney of that organization. All pro bono, of course. What a new and excellent adventure to add to my diary, eh? I’ve gotten to meet and associate with some brilliant lawyers dedicated to fighting for the downtrodden. Who may ALSO be impressed enough by my pro-homeless, activist tales, to assist me with publication. My GIFT to the LGBT community to support our cause, and I only want two percent of the royalties in exchange. These are very compassionate lawyers who’ve sacrificed the opportunity to make big bucks…they’re struggling, themselves, and deal with so many tragic cases each and every day. My case is a walk in the park on a lovely spring day, by comparison. “Mr. Krahlin,” said my attorney one day, “you’ve already won, it’s now just a matter of time, and the plaintiff finally letting go, especially since their OWN lawyer says what my accusers are doing is wrong, and a lost cause.”

I will soon begin posting a segment here, a segment there, from those chapters I’ve already created, but have held back on for so long. And Marshall has resumed reading my tales on his radio show, after some months’ delay. I believe because I’ve been posting a slew of messages each day, and it’s just too cumbersome for him to seek out my tales. So I’m drastically reducing my number of posts to no more than ten a day, to make it easy for him. Well worth the tradeoff, I’d say! I take whatever he reads of my work and upload it to my own WordPress blog…that is, I splice out just that part from each of his awesome podcasts, and add the growing collection into my blog’s KNYO section.

Have a superb day, Lisa…that’s an order!

– Zeke Krahlin

From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: MCN announce, MCN discussion
Date: October 6, 2022 at 12:55 PM

> We’re trying out “Pluto” on him. Let’s see if it sticks.

A lovely name. He’s orbiting your personal solar system!

Subject: Re: Speaking of Native American, Alvin…
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: Alvin Hope
Date: October 6, 1:02 PM

On 2022-10-06 11:44, Alvin Hope wrote:

> Lovely! The Universe provides goodness and surprises for those who are ready and worthy!

Yes it does. And if, like most people, it is hard to believe that, it’s still the best path to take, by assuming so. And, in the long run, that goodness shall be affirmed in spades. We ALL have doubts, don’t we…at least when we’re young. But that is simply the Great Spirit’s way of testing our mettle.

> Thank you for sharing. Frigga is one of your people. It is SO helpful to meet our tribal members along the way. It reduces the terrible tearing loneliness of this world.

That’s not her real name, I always use pseudonyms in my tales. If you check out the link to her award page for her graphic novel, you’ll discover her chosen moniker.

Your friend, Zeke

Re: Did you see what George Dennis Posted?
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: October 6, 2022 at 2:24 PM

> Ha!!!!

Double ha. Capital punishment for any and all homophobes…they are purely violent by nature. This includes many leaders of religious organizations, declare them cults and shut ’em all down. IMNSHO (in my not so humble opinion).

The Eviction Fiasco (part 15)

July 18, 2022

[BRINDLEKIN TALES – Book 6: Chapter 6]

Re: Last Wednesday I had another talk with Micah… ADDENDUM
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: July 10, 2022 at 5:57 PM

> Good report, and reassuring. Many thanks.

Pretty good overall, but then later on when Lucky suddenly barked up a storm I looked outside whereupon that raspy black lady started hollering:

“Bite him, Lucky, bite him good! Rip him apart!”

Then, later still, the sex thing going on in front of my building, Deek and another dude goin’ at it.

– Zeke K-Holmes

Subject: Last Wednesday I had another talk with Micah… (cont’d)
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: July 12, 2022 at 8:04 PM

As I said in a previous email, I saw Micah again on Wednesday, the same day Deek showed up for the last time with Silver, and pressed my buttons while I gave him good advice on focusing his care and love towards Flaco & Lucky.

A short while after I stepped out to visit with Deek, Micah showed up and stood some yards away, fussing with his bulging backpack as if he didn’t notice me. But soon as Deek stepped into the Hohokum smoke shop to purchase a cigar, Micah approached and said he needs to talk to me about Deek, just like he did the first time we chewed the fat.

“He’s got a lot of people angry,” he said, “because he stirs up so much shit.”

“I know!” I replied. “But I’m doing the best I can to move him in a better direction. He’s made some really great improvements in his attitude, but he’s still got a ways to go.”

“Hey, what’s goin’ on?” Deek broke in as he stepped out of the shop, like a copper who just stumbled into a drug den. Micah gently turned back to tending his possessions, without saying a word.

“Nothing really,” I replied with a shrug, “just sayin’ hi.”

It was then we began our tiff over the pitbull situation, and my lecturing him…which I’ve already written about in some detail. I want to note here that, once our surprisingly gentle clash was over (with Deek remarking he was just pressing my buttons), and just before I returned hovel, I told Deek with a smile that I’m not worried because I know he’ll do the right thing (meaning of course he’ll return the pitbull), and I hope he and the doggies have a lovely evening.

It wasn’t for another 45 minutes before Deek finally departed, and I wondered if Micah would still be there, so we could talk. Well, Wattson, when the time came he WAS still by the ATM alcove, still bent over his large pack, but also fumbling with a glass pipe. A torch lighter lay on the sidewalk by his left foot, so I picked it up and handed it to him.

I learned that Deek had stolen his entire backpack some time last year, when he was sound asleep. And it contained memorabilia from his childhood and later years that Micah valued very much, and gave him succor.

“I’m aware of Deek’s dark side,” I assured him, “and I’m very sorry he stole such cherished items. He owes you and a lot of other people, profuse apologies.”

“Well, I’m hoping he’ll return them to me,” replied Micah.

“I don’t think that’s in the cards, Micah,” I regretfully explained. “He doesn’t hold onto anything he has, I’m sure your stuff is long gone. But there’s another way you’ll get those items back.”

So I explained to him how the universe preserves valued items of heartfelt sentiment for us, and eventually returns them. And described exactly HOW that happened to me, when I was still homeless and my journal was lost for good in a car accident on my way to San Francisco via hitchhiking. Or so I thought. But a few months after I had landed in the city, the driver who caused the accident suddenly appeared before me as I was strolling the Mission, said he now lives just a few blocks from here, and would I like my journal back! I had no idea WHERE he was, for we never kept in touch, because, well, he was just a stranger kind enough to give me a lift. Long story short:

Micah appears to be much wiser than his age…he did not express anger towards Deek, and agrees with me to put one’s faith in a higher force. He understands now, my difficult situation with Deek, that I’m only being so patient and generous for the sake of the doggies…and how it’s making me a better person for the challenge. We both agreed not to mention to Deek his theft of Micah’s belongings. He also brought up other issues, some personal, his reflections upon life and how best to deal with them.

Micah has been lingering around the ATMs for the past month or so, around two or three evenings a week…and remains there for two or three hours. As if he were another guardian offering me a shoulder to lean on, and when his job is done, will disappear from my world.

My eviction chapters now number 15, in such a short time, Wattson! Each one averaging a 40-minute read. How much longer will this go on, I wonder. Exhausted.

– Zeke K-Holmes

Subject: Marshall read my poem last Friday night!
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: July 14, 2022 at 10:09 AM

In the middle of composing my latest missive to you (still in the works), Marshall’s latest podcast of “Memo of the Weird” was playing in the background, when my ears suddenly perked up: he was reading a poem I posted to the announcement list three days ago!

So I took this opportunity to splice that audio clip from the podcast, using Chromebook instead of my main system. Worked great!

1.5 minutes of sheer delight…play attachment.

– Zeke K-Holmes

Subject: For the Love of 2 Doggies
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: July 14, 2022 at 11:01 AM

Deek dropped by so early, I was still sound asleep after two consecutive nights of insomnia: 7:45 AM. It was a gray, pleasantly chill morning.

“Do ya got the money, that’s all I need!” he called up to my window when I looked out, my eyes still blurry with the Sand Man’s dust. Flaco & Lucky were looking up at me, too, each tethered to separate shopping carts instead of the usual one. My little angels, nothing but goodness!

So I slipped on my floppies, skipped the jacket and hat, and lumbered on down the stairs with $50 in hand, secured in a folded Chase Bank envelope. Upon opening the gate and presenting the cash to Deek, I said:

“Now that ya woke me up I gotta say hi to the pooches!”

And with that I stepped outside to crouch down between the two darling quadrupeds and sweep them into my arms with kisses and kind words. Upon standing up and telling Deek now I need to get back to bed, Flaco tapped me with a paw, then stood up and leaned against my leg…so I knelt down once more to embrace her with all the fondness in the world, while Lucky eagerly drank up extra neck scritches and pats. I gazed into Flaco’s eyes for a moment to see she was already looking up at me with that loving, sweet little face. She is so damned SINCERE.

It was all over in a flash, Deek thanked me several times as they took off and I returned hovel. Two nights I ago, a bit past midnight, Deek had screeched like a wild man again, though just for a few seconds. Nonetheless, I didn’t appreciate his disturbing the peace of my neighbors, which could target me for yet MORE enmity.

His unjust conniption was all about my returning three smartphones he acquired from god only knows where, after plugging them in for fifteen minutes, to see if they were any good. They weren’t. So I handed them back:

“The batteries are dead in all of them, Deek. Sorry.”

Well, that was the last straw for the enfant terrible…he accused me of lying because it was so late, and I didn’t want to be kept up beyond midnight. Well, that’s not true of course, Wattson, though I DID gripe to him that he woke me up. For he arrived around 11:30 PM, a half hour before the cutoff point for his visits. But since I NEVER know whether or not he’ll drop by shortly before midnight, I sometimes prefer to hit the sack a bit earlier, sometimes as early as 11 PM.

The thing is, he sometimes shows up shortly before midnight with a new smartphone that will take me considerable time to set up, and copy tons of music…at LEAST an hour to accomplish all that, usually more. Because CHARGING the fukkin device from zero percent to full takes a friggin THREE HOURS, and he wants it back soon as it’s done, won’t take no for an answer and wait till the following morning to pick it up!

He doesn’t get the point, or, more accurately, he TAKES ADVANTAGE of my generosity. The cutoff hour MEANS not to expect me to stay up beyond midnight, so if he has a new smartphone bring it by MUCH earlier, or wait until the next day. And whatever he DOES bring over at night for me to charge or work on (say around 9 or 10 PM), pick it up NO LATER than midnight; don’t force me out of bed by showing up any old time after that (like 2 or 3 AM)! What a mind fuck he can be.

But my seeing the hounds this morning, even at such an early hour, and even if but for a minute, was a wonderful reminder that I’m putting up with all his crap for one reason, and one reason only:

For the love of two of the sweetest little doggies in the universe.

– Zeke K-Holmes

Subject: Thanks for reading my poem!
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: Marshall McGee
Date: July 14, 2022 at 12:41 PM

Listening to your latest podcast this morning, I was delighted to hear you read my satirical (though prophetic) poem, “Welcome to Athenia.” Honestly, I did not expect you to ever read such a piece that undeniably harbors a large dose of “woo.” Though upon reflection I can see why you did, what with it being a mockery, in part, of Christian fanaticism…almost a declaration of war, in fact, against their violent ideology. Be that as it may:

I have been withholding announcements of my latest Brindlekin chapters, due to a lawsuit that suddenly struck me like lightning. A 3-day notice to quit the premises, in fact, posted to my door by the building manager on May 27th. I refuse to comply, as this is a case of blatant and false accusations with a heavy dose of unwarranted, extreme prejudice against me, for being a strident activist on behalf of the homeless. Presently I am awaiting a summons to appear in court…a second delivery because the landlord’s attorney fucked it up the first time around. Hilarious!

I have an incredible lawyer pro bono, a senior attorney from Bay Area Legal Aid. She’s from the Netherlands with a lovely accent to show for it. Their case is so weak and mine so strong, she’s surprised they haven’t yet dropped it. But if they DO proceed with a properly served summons, I will force their hand by replying with a cross-complaint with solid proof of ongoing harassment, including a video of said harassment, and a signed letter from the manager that reveals extreme prejudice against the homeless, and calling the pups I’m dog sitting for a friend, “violent and dangerous”…regardless of his giving me tacit permission to sit the dogs 1-3 days a week for more than a year.

That phrase “violent and dangerous” is a setup for (or prelude to) putting the dogs down, that is: kill them…because it’s a legal phrase to justify exactly that. The dogs have never bit anyone, this is just a bunch of nasty queens outraged that I am having a couple of homeless dogs visit me every week, and who am I to get away with that when they pay through the nose to live here, which their financially privileged big, fat egos can’t deal with. In sum: they have “screwed the pooch” so to speak!

Funny thing is, when this building’s attorney showed up June 8th to deliver the court summons he was actually apologetic, said errors were made and we can work things out…just let my attorney know about the summons and they’ll take it from there. I have THAT conversation video recorded via my Chromebook that sits quite innocently on my desk, facing the doorway.

[ASIDE: This Chromebook is a new addition to my work station BTW, got it barely a month ago, and I’m loving the heck out of it: 64 GB built-in storage, 4 GB RAM and a 14-inch screen, with a 128 GB micro-SD card I’ve added to it. All for just $130 from Amazon, because refurbished, but in like-new condition, not a single scratch, mar or bad pixel on it! And its expiration date doesn’t kick in till June 2029, which is when Google stops updating this model. I installed Linux side by side with chrome0S, and my VPN app works just fine for both operating systems. There are some things I need to do that chrome0S (or I should say “Google”) does not allow, but Linux does. But the best thing of all is: I don’t use Windoze anymore, for anything! My main laptop, an old Thinkpad x230, has finally been stripped of everything Microsoft, so now runs purely on Linux Mint.]

Otherwise, everyone else in the building adores Flaco & Lucky. I have MANY videos on my Youtube channel showing just what darlings they are, which you can see for yourself, here.

Meanwhile, back to why I haven’t been announcing my latest chapters to the MCN lists:

Because they include updates re. my ongoing eviction-threat fiasco, which details I can NOT discuss with anyone, at risk of losing my attorney…even though all parties involved are pseudonymous in my tales. (In fact, you are also included in my stories, with pseudonym “Marshall McGee,” and I call your show “Memo of the Weird.”) But once this lawsuit comes to an end, I will post links to what I call “The Eviction Chapters” to the MCN announcement list…or, more likely, to, as MCN itself will soon go under.

These eviction chapters already number 15, and I have no idea how much longer they’ll drag on. They average 40 minutes reading time each, so I’ve already gotten one thick book out of this. They are part of my larger opus, “Brindlekin Tales,” which is close to completing Book #5 (or 6, depending on how I eventually decide to break it up), and still going strong. At any rate:

I am telling you all this because you just might enjoy reading my eviction chapters, or parts thereof, somewhere down the line. Though I imagine, since each chapter is so lengthy, you’d probably read each one in two parts. There is also the difficulty in narrating tales that employ an email format, that is: with the header above each entry (subject title, sender name, recipient name and date stamp). But I’ve figured a way around that, which I can adapt for you in text format, and send you a copy of each chapter when you’re ready for the next one. Or maybe I’ve underestimated your own narrative skills, and you can adapt accordingly without my first redacting them. Though I’d still convert them into plain text before sending each one off.

Thank you for your kind attention, Marshall, and know that I continue to enjoy listening to each and every one of your podcasts, since I first began doing that back in March of 2017. Sure wish Ajax Gobswirth would start calling in again, though…I miss his waggish badinage and extraordinary backstories. Kody is a fine addition to your show, BTW; his reports from his far-flung adopted country of Vietnam are awesome! Feel free to read this email on the Mendo airwaves, if it pleases you.

– Zeke

Subject: Homophobic Nazi Spike Dewars strikes again!
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: MCN announce
Date: July 14, 2022 at 6:38 PM

His latest anti-gay, vitriolic terrorist rant addressing me in the discussion list. For the record, I’m reposting it to the announcement list. I am SO glad these MCN lists will be shut down very soon, as MCN administrators have been criminally irresponsible for allowing such monsters to freely post here, under the questionable legal premise of being part of the California public education system.


Date: Wed, 13 Jul 2022 12:53:29 -0700
From: Spike Dewars
Re: [MCN-Discussion]- [MCN-Announce]- Mendo Railways Land Fraud Scheme.

Hey ! Mentally ill faggot pedophile !

Go use the money Tom pays in taxes to support you and pound the sidewalks seeing if you can get a nice young nigger boy to suck your dick.

Then, when you can't find one because you're too old, you can return to your keyboard and take out your sexual and social frustration here on our LOCAL List by making fun of people who have cancer and WORK to pay the taxes to keep you warehoused.

I dropped notes all over the sidewalks in SF when I go there once a week with your room number and address that you were kind enough to give me saying your a homosexual pedophile who has a sexual attraction to young black boys that spreads AIDS.

I am willing to bet someone will pick that note up and decide to do something. A person not even known to me that I have never met.

Tom LIVES and WORKS here and you LEACH off his taxes he pays on his LABOR, same you you LEACH off mine, you mental disability check welfare queen.


Re: [MCN-Discussion]- [MCN-Announce]- Mendo Railways Land Fraud Scheme.
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: MCN discussion
Date: July 14, 2022 at 6:54 PM

On Wed, 13 Jul 2022 12:53:29 -0700 spike dewars squoinked:

> I dropped notes all over the sidewalks in SF when I go there once a week with your room number and address that you were kind enough to give me saying your a homosexual pedophile who has a sexual attraction to young black boys that spreads AIDS. I am willing to bet someone will pick that note up and decide to do something. A person not even known to me that I have never met.

An action like that (distributing hateful flyers targeting one person without any evidence whatsoever, including “doxxing”) would have the FBI banging down your door, Mr. Dewars. You like to THINK you are immune to criminal charges because you THINK you are so clever playing right at the edge where legality does not quite cross the line into illegality. I know you have NOT distributed such flyers, because you know better.

Meanwhile, I continue to document all your offenses against me, for your day of reckoning is inevitable…and soon, I predict.

And shame on Ms. 2-Biased for once more missing out on an opportunity to prove her loyalty towards LGBT equality, by refusing to confront you on this matter, in spite of the fact her condemnation of your homophobic vitriol and terrorist threats will do MORE to temper your words, than anyone else in this list could do. Her refusal to call your actions for what they REALLY are, and labeling it simply as a “personal clash” is beyond shameful and disgusting…it’s HIDEOUS, and homophobic by proxy. Woo-hoo!

Re: For the Love of 2 Doggies
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: July 14, 2022 at 10:37 PM

> This melted my heart. Those doggies are worth every sacrifice you are making.

They have turned my life into a glorious fairy tale…I owe them everything!

Subject: A row of tents behind my building!
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: July 15, 2022 at 10:08 AM

Four tents, one rather large. Recorded from a hallway window, as some of the campers are already up and about, and I didn’t want to upset them by filming them outside. Imagine being a resident on that side of the building, with your window barely two feet above them! How do they sleep?

Re: What Biden doesn’t get about his dismal poll numbers
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: MCN announce, MCN discussion
Date: July 15, 2022 at 4:09 PM

On Fri, 15 Jul 2022 04:10:27 +0000 Calvin Hope posted:

> So, what needs to be asked next is “Who would you prefer?”

Why, moi of course…haven’t you figured out yet that I am CLEARLY the best candidate to fill the position as head of state, commander in chief and all-around bullwhacker, in these tumultuous times?

> and “How well do you expect that person would do against the GOP candidate, be it Trump, DeSantis or someone else?”

I’d be INCREDIBLE, I’d whip all their asses into strips of flesh right there on Fox News and force-feed it to their minions, if that’s what it takes to reduce them into abject submission for the gibbering knaves they are! My platform is premised on ONE goal only: to totally eradicate homophobia/transphobia across the continent, including every crack, crevice or corner in which it may linger in smouldering resentment.

For I know that, by that ONE achievement alone, all other egregious problems will resolve themselves automatically and posthaste: bigotry of any other stripe, class division, civil and financial inequity, christianized dogma, violence, homelessness, social isolation, ecological imbalance, climate crisis, bad hair, erectile dysfunction (except for hetero males) and so on.

Zeke for Prez in ’24!
So lick my ass, you clueless whore!

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

Subject: 3 more pics of the mini-village…
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: July 15, 2022 at 5:21 PM

…behind my building, now that I can take snapshots under cover of bright sunlight and pedestrians milling about. Home sweet home, eh? Ah, the domestic life!

Re: 3 more pics of the mini-village…
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: July 15, 2022 at 6:29 PM

> Grimsville.

Now an annex of 9666 Market Street…with a friendly Siberian husky to guard the premises. Safer than a gated community!

Subject: So I walked by Scampy today…
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: July 15, 2022 at 8:24 PM

…as I stepped out of the Palestinian shop on Noe & 17th. According to Deek, she’s his ex; don’t know if that’s true or not, just using that as a reference to my previous emails about her. At any rate:

She was walking in my direction, pushing a small cart half filled with neatly folded clothing. I intended to say hi to her as she approached, but she beat me to the punch:

“Hello, I love you, Zeke!”

Which caught me pleasantly off-guard, but I quickly recovered and said in passing:

“I love you too, Scampy!”

We didn’t stop to talk or anything, but it made me reflect:

This is the result of my being kind to Scampy over the months whenever I DID see her, and treating her with respect. SO rewarding to see one of the fruits of my labor pay off so handsomely in such a short time! She ADORES the doggies, BTW.

– Zeke K-Holmes

Re: Wonderful site and app to put you in Dreamland!
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: July 16, 2022 at 12:29 PM

> Thanks for this!!

Certainly. While the selection is limited if you don’t pay, what is offered for free is a delight, and puts me right to sleep. My two backup smartphones have finally died on me, because their USB ports no longer connect (cheap parts I guess)…so I can no longer go to sleep with a smartphone by my ears. I DON’T use my cell-service phone, as it’s too precious to risk dropping it on the floor when I roll over. Same reason I don’t bring it with me when I step outside (theft and loss also a concern).

One backup phone failed almost a year ago, the other just a week back. So I now use my Chromebook to play my sleepy-time tales, with a small Bluetooth speaker by my pillow, which also allows me to control the volume. In addition I place a Bluetooth keyboard by the bed, so I can control anything else on the Chromebook, if need be (like switching from a podcast app to a web page, or loading a player to listen to downloaded Youtube scary videos). I got this down to a science! Deek update:

He dropped by last night around 9:30 PM, so I could charge a portable speaker. It was a peaceful meetup this time, and I got to spend a few minutes, twice, with the doggies…though it hurts to return upstairs while leaving them behind. Flaco is especially sensitive to that: she watches me as I depart, all the way up to when I disappear behind the gate. I always look back at her and throw a kiss.

Unfortunately, Deek starting pushing again to let him inside, “so I can do a quick wash-up, then I’ll get outta your hair. All I wanna do is clean myself up.” Yeah, right.

He had another vagrant visit with him by the ATMs after I returned hovel. Around a half hour later I decided to bring some cardboard sheets downstairs (that I got from the basement), so the pups would have something to rest upon, other than the filthy concrete. Deek STILL does that, even though he has plenty of spare old sweaters and jackets in his cart! Shameful and disgusting. I also brought down yet another leash, as Lucky’s was partly chewed up. I don’t like either pooch to appear shabby.

Upon my returning outside with the cardboard and leash, I saw Deek had placed an elastic-strap covid mask over his nose and mouth: “My friend here can watch the dogs while I go upstairs to wash up and get my backpack! See? I got this mask on, so you’re safe.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Deek,” I softly replied while replacing Lucky’s leash. “You know I never have guests over…and there’s NOTHING of yours upstairs except that speaker I’m charging.”

Then he made some vulgar joke about all he wants to do is get jiggy and shit on my chest, to which his momentary companion burst out in a chuckle. He was stretched out on the sidewalk close to where Deek sat in a folding wheelchair. I ignored the “joke” and continued to adore Lucky & Flaco with pats and hugs.

But he yammered on about coming upstairs anyway, so I decided enough was enough, and stood up: “You need to treat your dogs better by providing them with some comfy old clothes to lie down on, you have plenty in your cart.”

He didn’t respond to that, but told me his friend’ll watch the mutts while he’s upstairs for a few minutes to use the restroom and retrieve his pack.

“I’m going back home now, god bless you all and have a good night,” I curtly replied.

Once I opened the gate (while watching him from the corner of my eye in case he suddenly leapt up and tried to barge his way in), he called to me:

“Hey, wait! Hold up! I’m talking to you!”

I simply ignored him and plodded up the stairs to my sanctuary, where I fixed a late supper and watched some of my favorite Youtube news videos. He did NOT holler out to me once I closed the gate, which I feared he might do while I sat in my room. THAT’S something to be grateful for!

Some time later I peered out my window to see Deek and pups had departed, so figured they’d return some time before midnight to pick up the speaker. Which is exactly what happened, around 11:40 PM. Once I opened the gate to deliver the gizmo, some burly gay dude barged right through where my arm held the gate open.

“‘SCUSE ME! ‘SCUSE ME!” he bellowed with head lowered like a charging bull. Another rude, soused queer barhopping, I suppose.

Had I not withdrawn my arm in startled reflex he would’ve knocked me over. I looked at him with anger as he plodded onward. I was about to call him a piece of shit, but Deek tempered me with a “don’t even bother” wave of his hands. I looked at him and said:

“One of these days I’m gonna take a club to these jerks. It’ll go down in history as Bloody Friday Night in The Castro!”

Deek said not a word, but grinned at that. So I took that moment to tell him homeless people are far less violent and rude than those with roofs over their heads. But they BLAME street people for all the crap that goes on, though housed idiots are responsible for most of it.

“Well,” he replied, “Not everyone homeless is nice.”

“I know that, Deek,” I agreed, albeit with the following stipulation: “but generally speaking, the poor and the homeless are a kinder group than any other on this planet. No one takes the time to talk with me anymore, and be friendly, except them. They’re the best.”

I figured this boost to his still-shaky self esteem would further his growth in the right direction…eh, Wattson? Anyway, he didn’t continue to press me to come inside, as he did earlier, and I got to shower the hounds with love once more, before they departed into the murky embrace of Nyx.

– Zeke K-Holmes

Re: So I walked by Scampy today…
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: July 16, 2022 at 12:37 PM

> I use the same technique with Dan’s widow. She’s loony as a bedbug, but responds well (most of the time, only occasional lapses) to kindness. Plus, being kind to her makes my life way easier.

Hopefully, your persistent kindness will finally persuade her to sign up for SSI and other benefits. Keeping my fingers crossed, and a candle lit.

– Zeke K-Holmes

Re: So I walked by Scampy today…
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: July 16, 2022 at 12:50 PM

> I fucking hope so.

I feel ya.

Subject: Skin tag nightmare…
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: July 16, 2022 at 5:13 PM

…also my latest silly comment on one of Cyberdemon531’s video pages:


Regarding that blemish on your right cheek that you mention in some recent videos (can’t recall which ones, so I’m posting this here): I’ll trade you MY skin problem with yours any old day! Here’s the skinny:

About four months ago a little skin tag formed on my neck (something which is common in old fogies like myself), and it grew to almost a quarter inch long before I decided to do something about it. Which was to dab a spot of tea tree oil on it once a day (per instructions from a natural health tips page), and it finally dried up and fell off after a couple of weeks. Well, you’d think that was that, problem solved, but no:

About six weeks later the damned skin tag sprouted again, so I decided right then and there to keep applying the tea tree oil for at least 10 more days after it fell off. But it never did, it kept growing and growing and growing. Until now, it sticks out almost four feet, and I even need to turn sideways when passing through a doorway! So, being the stalwart trooper I am, I decided to make sport of my fleshy twig and have been hanging a small rainbow flag from it whenever I step out. (I live in the Castro, BTW, and have since 1983.)

You can imagine the stir I make whenever I enter a restaurant or coffeehouse…not to mention all the gay bars! But I don’t give a fuck what anyone thinks…and besides, we’re supposed to keep a social distance from each other, due to this ongoing plague. One day the far end of the skin tag got caught on a truck’s antenna when I was crossing the street as it jumped a red light! What a bloody mess, but I’ll leave THAT sordid tale for another time.


Her response was as brief as brief can be:


– Zeke K-Holmes

Re: Skin tag nightmare…
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: July 16, 2022 at 17:38 PM

> Thing is, I was picturing it in great detail!!!

Imagine Buster Keaton playing yours truly in those skin tag scenes, silent film and all!

Re: Skin tag nightmare…
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: July 16, 2022 at 6:38 PM

> Or Fatty Arbuckle!

Or Charlie Chaplin for that matter. However, let’s just stick with Buster Keaton for the nonce as I outline the scenes:

– Fussing with his skin tag as it grows to a ridiculous length, pressing against the wall as he tries to sleep, getting it stuck in the closet door, a window he shuts, and various other “stuck” scenarios in his apartment. Accidentally tying it up in his shoelace would be a nice touch!

– The whole slapstick thing of his exiting through a revolving door, alarming an elderly dame as they wait to cross the street and his skin tag slides down her bosom, then pilfers a watch from the vest of a gentleman also standing at that corner…after which a fire engine comes clanging by and catches his skin tag on a ladder and drags him down several streets turning corner after corner before they realize what happened.

– Keaton going to a barber shop as the barber attempts to work around the skin tag with a straight edge razor…and which tag keeps knocking shaving items from the counter, and pokes another customer in the eye while waiting his turn.

– Next, the hapless Keaton seats himself in a restaurant, the waiter keeps trying to hand him a menu but the skin tag gets in the way; then disturbs a table of patrons nearby, bobbing its tip over a bowl of soup; gets impossibly tangled in a matron’s impressive crown of piled hair, and so on.

You get the idea…the script writes itself. Harold Lloyd’s another excellent option to play the role! Heck, why not throw Woody Allen into the mix, though not from the same generation of comedic film stars?

– Zeke Krahlin

P.S.: How could I have missed the obvious chance to mock the Castro, by neglecting to append the phrase “…not to mention all the gay bars.” at the end of this line:

“You can imagine the stir I make whenever I enter a restaurant or coffeehouse.”

Rest assured, Wattson, I’ve corrected that in my final draft!

Subject: A surprise encounter with Filipino Kai this morning!
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: July 17, 2022 at 1:58 PM

I got up much later than usual, 10:15 AM, due to a restless night of itchy dry skin, the bane of old age no matter your social status. NOT a bedbug thing at all (in case you were wondering, Wattson…also having zilch to do with social status, I might note). Be that as it may:

Still somewhat groggy when I stepped through the gate, I saw some homeless woman with an upright cart and little doggy with long, black and white fur and a curly tail approaching close by. I quickly jumped aside so they could pass in a straight line, unobstructed.

“Thank you,” she said with a smile, but before I could say you’re welcome in reply, there was Filipino Kai standing before me, arm extended for a fist bump, and a broad grin! He must’ve been accompanying the lady and her pup, to appear so abruptly.

Soon as I raised my own arm and clenched my hand into a ball, he turned his palm flat, ready for a handshake…so I did likewise. But upon doing THAT, his hand reverted once more into a fist, then back to a handshake, upon which we finally gripped each other’s paw in a robust greeting.

Kai’s gunshot salvo of compliments caught me off-guard, so I can’t recall his specific words, though kindness washed over me
like an April shower. Our hands clenched for the brief seconds it took to awaken me in full with those salutary affirmations. He then released his grip and caught up with lady and pooch who now stood by the ATM alcove. His not allowing me enough time to form an equally hearty response, I simply called out:


Then proceeded towards Rosenberg’s with a lighter step than before. I did look back, however, pleased to see them smiling and chatting away…and how neatly they were both attired in clean, warm coats, dungarees, socks and jazzy sneakers. A happy little trio all around!

Does it not strike you as suspicious timing that Kai appeared before me the moment I stepped out this morning, to bless me with a flood of kind words…in light of his more frequent appearances over the past several months, each time in support of my relationship with Deek and the pups?

Suspicious in a bodhisattva guardian kind of way, I mean. The timing was impeccable…and a not-too-shabby hint that my breakthrough into the next level where recognition and fame are my reward, is just around the corner. Especially when you tie it in with this eviction fiasco, a crackerjack attorney entering my world, and Deek’s pups forced back onto the streets 24/7… which latter misfortune surely can’t go on much longer, as such a situation further drawn-out would be unforgivably cruel. Since:

Initiation though this may be (as I strongly suspect), no matter how arduous for the novitiate, it should NOT involve risking the health and happiness of two darling doggies. Unless, of course, they HAVE another sanctuary Deek brings them to, unbeknownst to yours truly. Which I desperately hope IS the case!

– Zeke K-Holmes

Click here for a larger view.

Re: A surprise encounter with Filipino Kai this morning!
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: July 18, 2022 at 1:27 PM

> The timing IS a little too good!

They play it right along the edge, just enough of a hint…or even series of hints within a short span of time such as months and then weeks as the benevolent outcome approaches a crescendo, so that it becomes easier and easier to believe than doubt.

> I want the universe to give a you a fine home where you and the doggies can live.

It’s gonna happen, I can feel it in my doggy bones. Your goodwill is phenomenally contagious…the Elder Thing hears you! In fact, you so impressed it lately, it kindly asked me to send off a pic of it, one of its favorite portraits because painted by Hieronymous Bosch during its latest visit to planet earth.

Though sending such a potently destructive image via email could do great damage to a big chunk of cyberspace in its convoluted travels from MY node to yours–in light of just WHICH Awesome Deity of Stygian Darkness this photo represents–I decided it’s best to simply provide you with a link.

FYI some months back I asked Elder Thing if it has a gender preference such as they/them/their, as I know it does NOT have sexual organs in the way we humans think of them, and it doesn’t even mate at all, because there’s only ONE of it (thank Yog Sothoth for that, as Elder Thing’s celibacy is the ONLY force that keeps the universe intact). His response was curt, though with a sigh of incel-type frustration:

“IT will have to do for now.”

It also muttered a fury of curses against Mx. Sothoth which I dare not repeat for fear of my soul’s eternal damnation. These Lovecraftian monsters are rather conservatively CATHOLIC in their outlook, I’ve come to conclude!


The scam I’m talking about in particular has to do with those times he brings me a shabby gizmo he KNOWS doesn’t work, but pretends it does, and all I have to do is recharge it for him. But upon plugging it in, I discover it won’t charge, the battery’s dead, or the USB port is wonky, or a chip is fried, or whatever. By that time, Deek has already scooted off to parts unknown, so I can’t just step back out to give him the bad news. Instead, I have to wait two or three hours until he returns.

By which time he has the PERFECT excuse to accuse me of fucking up the device, it’s all my fault, he just bought the [speaker/smartphone/charger], it was working fine before he handed it to me, I must’ve jammed the port by shoving the plug in too hard, he paid eighty dollars for it, blah blah blah.

This time it was a speaker that I charged for him the first time, three evenings ago. Did NOT look new, and was so lightweight I can’t imagine the battery would last beyond an hour. So he brought it back yesterday for another recharge, around 8:30 PM.

“DON’T pick it up by the handle!” he warned, so I wrapped one arm around it and marched upstairs. When I plugged the micro USB cord into the port, a tiny red light blipped on for two seconds and that’s all she wrote! So I tried several different cords to see if that would help, but none of them made that light blink on again.

I therefore presumed it was either (hopefully) already fully charged, or a cheap piece of junk. Of course, by that point Deek had disappeared and I had to wait the customary two or three hours for his return, upon which I’d present him my sorry report, and he’d rake me over the coals. Been there, done that, numerous times before, though it’s been quite awhile since he last played this kind of ruse on me.

“It’s brand new, I paid fitty dollah for that,” he exclaimed, though to my surprise without much angst, not even one syllable of a screech, as he sat between shopping cart and illuminated bus stop with pups curled up on his lap and thighs. I pet them both, and calmly retorted:

“I don’t think so, Deek, it looks kinda banged up to me!”

“Oh, you think it’s old because I put graffiti all over it!” he griped. He had scrawled childish designs and indecipherable words all over the speaker in thick metallic-silver strokes, since he last brought it over. I COULD make out two words, though, right on top: “Po Boy.” That’s his street name. God forbid he should ever learn about the existence of the apostrophe and when you should use it!

“Of course not, Deek,” I replied, “it already LOOKED pretty worn before you gave it the old, artistic flair.”

Suddenly I heard a voice above from where I was crouched down attending the dogs: “Hey, Zeke!”

I peered up to see Deek’s cousin, Dominic…much to my chagrin. He’s WORSE than Deek when it comes to scams, accusations and all-around bullshit! I’ve been avoiding him since he stalked me two years earlier after he saw me hand some cash to Boulevard Joe one night and not to HIM.

Never mind I didn’t even KNOW he was somewhere nearby (it was nighttime and he stood almost twenty feet distant hiding behind a telephone pole, and he’s skinny enough to pull that off); never mind I only gave Joe two fukkin dollars, though that’s none of his business how much or how little money I give ANYone; never mind I gave him a Jackson just five days prior (the last time I ever gave him ANY cash whatsoever, learned my lesson); never mind I already pepper sprayed him once, four years ago for threatening me, claiming he has a knife in his pocket!

Soon as Blvd. Joe dropped a couple of Camel 100s onto my palm, I thanked him and took off, not realizing Dominic was anywhere around, let alone spying on me. But as I crossed Market Street I heard Joe call out:

“Careful Zeke, Dom’s stalking you!”

With that, I turned around as I reached the opposite corner and, sure enough, there he was fifteen feet behind, but stopped because I had as well. So I resumed my walk back hovel and, once halfway there, looked back again to see if Dom were still tailing me. He was, so I slowed down, proceeded ten more paces, then turned to face him from six feet away:

“Oh, it’s you, Dom. How’s it going?”

He then muttered something about how people always fuck him over, rip him off and deceive him, to which I replied while he now moped along beside me:

“Well, the best way to handle that is to AVOID such people, don’t get caught up in their bullshit and find a harmless way to release your anger, so you don’t take it out on someone innocent.”

Upon hearing my advice, he glared down at me (Dom’s quite tall, 6-foot-4, just like Arwyn only ganglier) with raised eyebrows as if to say: “Oh, is that so?”

“And count your blessings,” I added with raised index finger: the twist of a metaphorical knife in his back because I knew he was implying I’M the kind of rat fink he’s talking about. (The NERVE of him trying to terrorize me into coughing up moolah!)

“I don’t know, Zeke,” he answered back in staccato syllables, “I’m tempted to release my anger on their heads.”

I then stopped several feet before my building:

“Sorry to hear that, Dom, I don’t agree. But I hope you have a pleasant night anyway. Go out of your way to put a smile on someone’s face…believe it or not, that’ll help.”

And with that, I pulled my keys out, indicating I’m stepping back inside and he needs to move along. He did. What a waste of a young man, eh, Wattson? He’s only thirty-four years old. Anyway, back to last night and Dominic’s unwelcome appearance:

He just stood there and observed while Deek and I argued: him with false accusations, me deflecting each and every one of them while petting the hounds, who were quite comfy in Deek’s extended lap, and not the least bit perturbed. A few minutes later I stood up:

“I’m going to bed now, I’ve heard enough of your crap for one night.”

And off I went, with a goodbye nod to Dominic who waved back as I turned the key in the gate. But as soon as I entered the building, I heard Deek’s juvenile summation as he began pushing his cart towards Noe Street, dogs in tow:

“He’s just like every other fag I’ve met. Fukkin with my head like a know-it-all, ripping me off every step of the way. Stupid fag!”

Well, I wasn’t about to let him get away with that, so stepped back out and approached him but kept some distance between us:

“Hey, Deek, don’t call me that! You did NOT spend fifty dollars on that crappy speaker. You probably didn’t even spend TEN, ’cause you got it in trade, or found it in the trash. You’re just SCAMMING me, you KNEW it stopped working before you gave it to me, it was a setup. You LOVE to guilt-trip your friends, I know that game…you’ve done it many times before!”

I stopped chiding him once he started to cross Noe, then turned to Dominic who stood all this time by the bus stop.

“Did you hear that, Dom?” I called to him from the gate once I reached it. “That was a SCAM! Just what kind of a dummy does he take me for?”

Dominic did not reply, but remained in that one spot, his face screwed up like a weather station’s satellite image of a hurricane.
Seeking some affirmation from his witness, I let go of the open gate and walked up to him, halting just five feet away. It was then I noticed his shabby appearance and dirt-stained mug…and an awful stink of fresh kak invading my nostrils. He made no effort to support my claim, instead he spoke these words in a whiny tone:

“Do you have any pants?”

He shat himself! I realized and looked at his legs: sure enough, the brown stain of diarrhea showed through beige trousers and dripped onto the sidewalk! No wonder Deek left in such a hurry. I immediately backed off in alarm and declared:

“NO way José, your cousin’s already a handful, I can’t deal with YOUR drama, too!”

Upon reopening the front gate, I called back at him with another useful piece of advice to add to his Zeke Words of Wisdom Compendium:

“You need to take better care of yourself, no one can do that FOR you!” Besides which, I mused, what makes him think I’d have any pants his length; I am NOT the Salvation Army.

So there ya go, Wattson: Dominic never fails to conjure up one conflict or drama after another, never a moment of friendly conversation or plain old hangin’ out together on a lovely day…always scheming for the next dollar, the next hit, the next fast-food handout, the next shag, the next whatever. He makes Deek’s hornswaggling antics look like pre-school prep.

Sad to say, amid the tempest of Deek’s needless brouhaha and guilt-tripping, I had forgotten to give him a fresh supply of dog food, which he requested earlier that day, telling me to bring it downstairs upon his return. The bag remains sulking in my closet.


They’re punking me again, and Dominic’s diarrhea prank was the perfect touch…with Deek’s guilt-tripping merely a prelude! Foolish of me to think that, as my celebratory honors grow imminent, my guardians would slow down their capers somewhat.

– Zeke K-Holmes

The Eviction Fiasco (part 14)

July 10, 2022

[BRINDLEKIN TALES – Book 6: Chapter 5]

Re: The idiot got another dog.
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: July 5, 2022 at 9:55 PM

> Very, very disturbing. Wish I could rescue them.

That’s not in the cards, unfortunately. I have NO choice but to have faith he’ll do the right thing and return the new dog to whoever gave it to him. I could SEE that Flaco & Lucky feel neglected…he’s hugging and petting the new dog all the time, and ignoring two, darling half-dachshunds that should make him the happiest man on the planet. This is just plain SICKENING.

He adopted a third dog twice before: one, another silver pit,  the other a bullmastiff…each time he had to return it. BECAUSE THEY’RE TOO AGGRESSIVE SINCE THEY HAVEN’T BEEN NEUTERED.

Who the fuk even GIVES a homeless person a gorgeous, pedigree canine that OBVIOUSLY should not be condemned to live on the streets? I have NO idea what’s really going on with that.

– Zeke K-Holmes

Re: The idiot got another dog.
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: July 5, 2022 at 10:44 PM

> He’s like some Muslim man who exercises his option to get a new young wife and neglects the old ones. Disgusting.

He even removed the nice leash I bought for Lucky (and for Flaco; they match) and put it on the pitbull’s collar. Now, Lucky just has a cheap clothesline for a leash. He justified it by claiming Lucky doesn’t need that strong a leash because he’s a smaller dog. He had the nerve to tell me to bring another leash down, but I told him, no, I’m not gonna spend even MORE money because of a third dog. So Lucky has to do without a handsome leash. Now what, Wattson:

Whenever he loses the pitbull’s leash, he’ll take it from one of the brindlekin, so then they’ll BOTH wind up with shabby tethers! And if I give new leashes for Flaco & Lucky, he’ll just remove one for dog #3.

He’ll be asking me for even more food–in addition to what he claims gets lost or stolen–but I’ll have to turn him down for that, too! Then what: he’ll STARVE the little doggies by giving them less than their fair share?


– Zeke K-Holmes

Subject: Just got this email from my attorney:
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: July 6, 2022 at 10:37 AM

“I am sorry I was out sick yesterday but back in the office today. The July 7 deadline is still on. We have to respond by this date with a demurrer. I will file the demurrer for you tomorrow and I don’t need your signature for that. You are more than welcome to put the payments in our trust account but it is only needed if you are concerned that you will otherwise spend the money. The purpose for the trust account is that you are sure to save the money and not spend it. It is not beneficial to the case in any other way.”

So I replied:

“Excellent. I will forego escrow. Muito obrigado…and I hope you are feeling well today.”

Re: Just got this email from my attorney:
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: July 6, 2022 at 11:16 AM

> I’m vastly relieved!!!

As am I of course.

> I had a feeling she was sick and not just “ghosting” you.

That thought also passed my mind, and if she hadn’t contacted me today, I’d’ve marched straight to their office tomorrow, as early as possible. For if she WAS still stick, my reply to the summons MUST be carried out by SOMEONE there. As for your Internet woes:

Harvey Winston posted to the announcement list yesterday about the collapse of MCN’s DSL service, entitled “Train Wreck at MCN ???” with a link to Reddit’s “Mendocino” sub, explaining all.

I presume you have his post, which includes the entire text from that Reddit page. Quite an eye opener! You may have to purchase extra data from Tracfone, to keep connected until the issue gets resolved one way or the other. This is nerve-racking…like so many other things in life. Gird those loins, all shall turn out well in the long run.

– Zeke K-Holmes

P.S.: I didn’t know they had a Mendocino sub, though it should’ve occurred to me long ago, to see if they did. I am now subscribed to it.

Re: Just got this email from my attorney: ADDENDUM
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: July 6, 2022 at 12:28 PM

Perhaps you should attend the MUSD K-8 board meeting tomorrow evening, which will discuss the future of MCN. You might also check out the Comptche Broadband Committee, here.

Oh Jebus, I just got to the bottom of that page to discover Mr. Filthy McFilcher is a member of that committee. What the fuk else could go wrong today? Meanwhile:

I’m the picture of pathos today, what with, in the middle of my eviction brouhaha, pups no longer allowed to stay with me for frequent sanctuary, Deek acquiring a third canine, and my greatest (human) friend-and-confidant’s sudden loss of reliable Internet access, I am now defrosting my fridge after putting it off for way too long, thanks to the exhausting challenges I’m up against.

Yesterday evening I discovered I can no longer fully shut the refrigerator door due to the accumulation of rock-hard ice nodes along the outer edge of the freezer. It was then I realized I have NO choice but to get on top of it soon after I wake up the next morning. So I filled up three, empty half-gallon plastic milk containers with water, and shoved them into the freezer in preparation for tomorrow’s quasi-Sisyphean task. For you see, Wattson, I keep those three containers to use as ice packs for just this purpose…dropping them into a large, Tupperware-like box with a lid on it, in which I place all perishable goods FROM the fridge, as a makeshift icebox while defrosting the monster.

Not that my milk or other quickly perishable stuff won’t spoil, considering the length of time this delayed chore will take, and the minimal cooling my jury-rigged icebox provides (especially since the milk containers are only PARTIALLY frozen; I usually give ’em TWO days, not one night, but this was urgent)…but so far spoilage has never occurred in all the years I’ve been doing this. Clever me, though:

Click here for a larger view.

After I deposited those chunks of ice into a large bowl (see pic), it occurred to me they can serve to keep the provisional icebox cool for a longer time than the milk jugs alone. So I dumped the discarded ice into a plastic trash bag (kitchen size), tied it up with a double knot and dropped it into the slapdash cooler. Voila!

Today’s already a better day, though still with bumps and warts albeit fewer.

– Zeke K-Holmes

Re: Just got this email from my attorney: ADDENDUM
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: July 6, 2022 at 1:18 PM

> I’d poke out my eyes sooner than I’d go to a meeting…

Or perhaps relieve that angst by going there anyway, and when you raise a hand to speak your mind, dash to the front of the room and poke the board members’ eyes out instead. With a stainless steel fork, which tines you’ve sharpened in frenzied anticipation. The drama would be priceless! On a tad more serious note:

I’d go there just for the amusing distraction…and enjoy the free water.

> my internet problem is solved, BTW.

Now how did THAT happen, since MCN is still a train wreck? Though I’m very HAPPY for you…for both of us, as you are the aorta to my psyche.

– Zeke K-Holmes

Re: Just got this email from my attorney: ADDENDUM
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: July 6, 2022 at 3:14 PM

> I’d sterilize my instruments first, of course!

Why? This is not a Dexter episode, I just don’t get the “point” (ha-ha). It is neither the “tine” nor the place for such fastidious machinations. Besides which, botulism of the eye sockets seems a most fitting fate for these board members…for which I recommend undercooked brisket pierced by forks left unwiped and unwashed for no shorter than two weeks! Or longer: their next meeting isn’t until August 24th. Mad cow disease would be a bonus, for which I recommend ordering from a disreputable slaughterhouse located somewhere deep in the dales of jolly old England.

> I’ll send Erwyn. He has a higher tolerance for meetings than I do. And the school is a five-minute walk from here.

Just five minutes? Perfect! The deed can be done swiftly and with minimal fuss. He’ll be back home and the evidence cleaned up in a jiffy, neatly returned to their antique, velvet-lined tray once owned by Queen Victoria herself…which you pilfered on a lark during a tour of Her Royal Majesty’s chambers on your only visit to Limeyland. No one will be the wiser, since he will be virtuously covid-MASKED at the scene of the crime. I DO recommend, however, that Erwyn wear elevator shoes to obscure his true height. And dress in clothing atypical of his style…then, shortly after the dastardly deed has been accomplished, burn it somewhere deep in the woods, shoes and all.

> I was getting spotty internet and constant “timed out” messages. I assumed it was MCN’s fault because of upheaval, but I called, they ran a check, said the problem was not at their end. My computer is in a separate building from the wifi modem, and the signal is not reliable out there. So I augment it with a long, long ethernet cable. Experiments showed that it’s the cable, old and faulty. So: I’m either going to get a new 50-foot length of ethernet cable, or a wifi booster. I have the computer indoors at the moment, nice strong wireless signal.

I recommend the cable, as it’s inexpensive (50 feet = $15 on average), and you won’t have any potential interference from intruding airwave disruptions, plus cannot be intercepted by HUMAN intruders, unlike wifi. I’m gonna get a USB ethernet adapter for my Chromebook next month, just for those reasons. Besides which, these so-called “boosters” often don’t cut the mustard.

– Zeke K-Holmes

Re: Just got this email from my attorney: ADDENDUM
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: July 6, 2022 at 3:43 PM

> Excellent advice, from the botulism to the Ethernet cable! Maybe I’ll go, after all; need to practice my trans-orbital lobotomy skills, which will soon be in great demand!

I’m PROUD of you, Oh Sister That I’ve Never Had, Her Celestial Eminence and Queen of All She Surveys Both on Earth and in the Heavens: Osmium Empress! IOW:

You go, girl!

– Zeke K-Holmes

Subject: GOOD NEWS: he got rid of the pitbull
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: July 7, 2022 at 9:19 PM

I have more to report from yesterday, but Deek just dropped by with Lucky & Flaco and no OTHER dog. So I thought I’d let you know right away…and a more extensive missive will arrive later.

Re: GOOD NEWS: he got rid of the pitbull
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: July 7, 2022 at 12:27 PM

> Whew. Hope the other dog is okay.

I’m sure he is, though Deek didn’t mention anything about the pitbull, nor did I ask. I think he felt embarrassed about the whole faux pas. This is a result of his bipolar manic swing…he’ll get this wild idea to do something that is impossible to achieve or maintain, then when he comes down to earth some days later, he does what he can to make things right again. Very scary when two little doggies I love dearly are in the middle of all this, because he could decide to pawn them off on someone before he comes back to his senses.

I’m sure he greatly appreciates my not bringing up his mistake, when he’s done his best to correct it. So I just acted like it never happened. Lucky still had that clothesline leash on, so I went back upstairs to get him yet aNOTHER new leash (I have a stash of several): the THIRD new leash in less than a month, dammit!

Now here’s my bodhisattva spin on this horrid crisis that finally subsided, thank deity:

It was a scripted setup, he got the pitbull from a fellow bodhisattva to create yet another nerve-racking scenario to aid me in further releasing what residual anxiety remains in my psyche. The pitbull is now back home, and is well loved and HOUSED.

> Heard from your lawyer???

Yes, she emailed me this morning, apologized for telling me I don’t need to sign anything for this demurral. But it turned out she DOES need my signature to waive all court fees, due to my low income. So I posted back that I’ll drop by in 20 minutes. This was around 10 AM. Deek was outside, waiting for his devices to charge, and I had JUST sat down to break fast. When I told him I had to rush off to see my attorney, he said to just bring the stuff downstairs, and good luck.

I told him her office is only four blocks away, and I’ll be back less than an hour from now, so why not leave the gizmos plugged in until my return? He decided against it and was in all other ways MOST accommodating. So I brought him his electronics, hugged the doggies, told them how much I love them, then took off…calling back to Deek as I approached the crossing:

“Best lawyer in the city, and just four blocks away! Now how convenient is that?” He smiled and waved a friendly adieu.

I think she was waiting till the last day I could register my reply in order to buy more time. Ablablah’s attorney needs to deliver the summons again, because he didn’t serve it properly the first time around. Though it seems logical at this point, for them to just drop the case entirely. This demurral delay opens a convenient window for them to do exactly that. I just don’t get it:

I could’ve claimed their attorney NEVER delivered those papers, and it would be his word against mine, as there was no witness, it wasn’t video recorded BY him, and I wasn’t required to sign anything to PROVE I received it. Nor did the so-called “lawyer” state his name, or deliver the papers in some professional manner, rather than hand a bunch of sloppily photocopied pages attached with a staple.

Which is yet one more reason I believe this is all a bodhisattva ruse, and even Ms. Elvensborn is in on it. As are Deek, the building manager, et al. I just assumed then, that the day of the Pride March would be perfect for my “surprise victory party,” but obviously they have OTHER plans in store, schedule-wise.

Another reason why I suspect a ruse: my attorney is just a hop, skip and a jump away from my hovel.

– Zeke K-Holmes

Cat 5

Re: Just got this email from my attorney: ADDENDUM
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: July 7, 2022 at 4:26 PM

> Do I need Cat 6? Or is Cat 5 adequate? The old one was Cat 5.

I know how much you love cats, but this is way outta orbit! Anyway:

I have Cat6 ethernet, which is probably overkill. Forget Cat5. You should get either Cat5e or 6. To help you decide, check out this link and this.

The technology is now up to Cat7, FYI. Two more integers to go and Cats will have 9 lives again! Quoting from the first link:

“If you’re a residential user, Cat5E Cable is going to be more than capable of meeting any need that you would have. In fact, the speeds supported by this type of cable are likely faster than what your residential Internet connection can provide anyway – at least for the next few years. When the time does come to upgrade it won’t necessarily be difficult or even expensive to do so, which means that for the time being Cat5E is going to be just fine.”

– Zeke K-Holmes

Re: Just got this email from my attorney: ADDENDUM
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: July 7, 2022 at 5:21 PM

> Tanks.

Mit vergnügen.

> Did you git ‘er done with the attorney?? Enquiring minds, etc.

Oh, yeah, took only a minute to sign two sheets of paper to inform the court I’m the rare pauper who for some astounding twist of fate in spite of abject poverty, still manages to keep a roof over his head in billionaire-playground San Franshitsco…so of course legal fees are beyond my ability to cover. But thanks for asking, and a warm bowl of porridge would be nice if I have to appear before a judge to present my case.

– Zeke K-Holmes

Subject: My latest comment to Cyberdemon531 (a.k.a. “Andrea”)…
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: July 9, 2022 at 1:32 PM

…in one of their recent videos, part of which includes discussion of the possible fates of America:


Looks to me like this nation will COLLAPSE into numerous sovereign entities, which is one of the options you've considered. And I believe it will happen very SOON, like before the end of this year, thanks to draconic mandates rapidly overtaking all the red states: PURE FASCISM. This will cause such a schism as to COERCE blue states to secede, in order to preserve a democratic gov't and protect their citizens. In sum: WE WILL HAVE NO CHOICE BUT TO SECEDE.

I hereby propose we name the new province of California/Oregon/Washington/bottom 3rd of British Columbia/and possibly a big chunk of western Nevada, "Athenia," and that it become the world's first LGBT nation, much like Israel is for Jewish people, minus the persecution of their neighbors or anyone else for that matter. There will soon be a massive flood of queer people fleeing red states for sanctuary in California, and we brave citizens of the Golden Bear State need to prepare for this, to welcome them with open arms and REFUSE to deport anyone back to their home state. Paraphrasing a line from the plaque on the Statue of Liberty:

"Send these, the homeless, tempest-tossed to me, I lift my lamp beside the golden GATE!"

And you're correct: we have NEVER been a democracy, these disUnited States have ALWAYS been severely chistianized, thus the concept of separation of church and state has been a vulgar RUSE all along. And while I, myself, believe in a creator (in the sense of "universal mind" or "great spirit," for I am an animist) I agree that the BEST, KINDEST and SANEST way to run a society is via the atheist route, as this avoids religious conflicts of ideology in gov't and politics. It is also the best way to perform scientific research, for the same reason. One's spiritual or religious beliefs should ALWAYS be a strictly PRIVATE matter. And any churches, mosques or temples that continue to preach hatred towards LGBTs and any other minority (and women, who are NOT a minority) should be declared a CULT and shut down immediately. There should also be NO gov't funding for religious groups, and NO tax breaks whatsoever.

That's my rant, and I'm sticking to it!


The video is an hour-and-a-half long, so I don’t expect you to watch it. But for the record, here’s the link.

– Zeke K-Holmes

Subject: Erwyn made some EXCELLENT points at the board meeting…
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: July 9, 2022 at 5:32 PM

…regarding keeping the MCN service within the community, as it’s so much part of the Mendoland fabric and has provided excellent service for decades, at a reasonable cost. Nonetheless:

I’d rather he have employed the sharpened forks to better effect. I watched the entire spectacle: it was riveting for what it was, which I haven’t yet figured out.

– Zeke K-Holmes

Re: Erwyn made some EXCELLENT points at the board meeting…
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: July 9, 2022 at 7:00 PM

> Well, considering that he went there knowing zilch about it, and extemporized on the spot, he did pretty well.

He had me weeping for the death of small-town America by the second sentence…a 2-hanky melodrama for sure! Tell him Zeke was impressed by his inspiring elocution, reminiscent of James Stewart’s famous speech in Mr. Smith Goes to Washington. That’ll make his day.

If you need to refresh your memory about that speech, here ’tis.

> I haven’t watched the whole thing yet…

It was a pretty good 1-act play all around, though not enough cowbell for my taste. No dramatic outburst occurred, much to my disappointment, though SOME actors were appropriately outraged in a geriatric kind of gentility. No one fell asleep either, while watching the meeting on Zoom from the comfort of their nursing home, so no ZZzzZzzz’s to disturb the proceedings. Which woulda been hilarious, but oh well. One last thought:

The six-frame format was a refreshing diversion from the conventional single-frame layout per scene that has dominated the movie industry for too many decades. I hope it takes off.

– Zeke K-Holmes

Click here for a larger view.

Subject: Last Wednesday I had another talk with Micah…
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: July 9, 2022 at 10:20 PM

Enclosed pic shows him hanging out almost right below my window. But I also spoke with Deek before that, same day, so let’s deal with Asshole first:

He dropped by with his three dogs, and when I stepped out I saw Flaco & Lucky huddled down in the far corner of the ATM alcove, fifteen feet away from where their master sat by his shopping cart, with the pitbull resting partly on his lap. I immediately approached my brindlekin with kind words, hugs and kisses…upon which the stink of urine pierced my nostrils. Their master didn’t even bother to set down an old jacket or sweater between the pups and the filthy concrete. They looked like a couple of abandoned, lost pooches, gazing out at the world with their golden dachshund eyes from a dark corner.

Exhausted, forlorn and obviously uncomfortable with their new family member, they kept their distance while the pitbull received all of Deek’s attention at their expense. I’m sure they also feel sad, wondering why I don’t bring them to my sanctuary any more. Neither hound greeted me with their customary glee and waggy tails, though gratefully accepted my fond affections and gave me a few thoughtful licks. For we ARE friends through thick and thin.

They both looked up at me for a few moments with heartfelt yearning and suppressed joy, especially Flaco who is SO sincere about her love, it breaks my heart. Her sparkly eyes peered right into my own…the sweet little dog who told me with her gentle touch of a paw and happy visage back on the eve of Halloween 2019 that everything will be fine, I have nothing to worry about, they’ll always be here for me. But now it’s come to this.

I wanted so badly to take them both upstairs and tuck them into the comforters and hug them all afternoon and into the night. Something which no doubt they miss with warm memories of a happier time. But as I said, they only showed their affection for a few moments, then slumped down with sleepy heads and closed their eyes to get some sorely needed rest, upon pee-stained cement.

So then I spoke with Deek and pet the pitbull who IS lovely and of a charming nature:

“He doesn’t deserve to be out here, Deek. He needs a home and a backyard to run around. You don’t have the CAPACITY to care for three, high-energy dogs, and Silver needs to eat three times what you feed Flaco & Lucky. I certainly can’t afford the extra expenses. You’ll drive yourself crazy with all the responsiblity, what were you thinking of?”

“La la la la la,” he placed his hands over his ears, “I don’t wanna HEAR this, I know what I’m doing, I’ve raised dogs most of my life! La la la la la!”

I pointed to Flaco & Lucky: “Look at them, Deek, they’re unhappy, you don’t love them anymore, you’re killing their spirit! Why aren’t you sitting beside them like you are now with the pitbull?”

“Well, they gotta learn to get along,” he blithely replied with a shrug of his scrawny shoulders, “If they don’t it’s their tough luck.”

“How can you say that, Deek?” I admonished. “They’re the sweetest, kindest dogs I’ve ever met. You should be the happiest man in the world to have their devotion, yet here you are fawning all over Silver and ignoring the best friends you’ve ever had!”

He ignored me at that point, doting on the pitbull with hugs and caresses and murmuring kind words.

“You’re headed in a bad direction, Deek,” I continued, “you need to RETURN that dog to wherever you got him! It’s a pedigree, they’re prone to more disease than mixed breeds like Lucky & Flaco especially if forced to live on the streets. You’re setting yourself up for a shit show!”

“Well get used to it,” he replied while petting Silver, then looked up at me with a belligerent expression. “I’ve only STARTED, I’m gonna mate THIS dog with Flaco and I’ll soon have SIX dogs, or more!” He then pointed to Lucky’s sweet sister, who was deep in dreamland:

“Look at her, she’s seven months pregnant!”

I did, then said, “Nonsense, she’s not pregnant. But PLEASE
don’t put her through that, she could die! Besides, people will see you on the street with so many dogs and call Animal Control, you’ll lose ALL of them, including Lucky and Flaco and I’LL never see them again, either! And if that happens I’d kick you outta my life for good, bye bye friendship, bye bye one hundred dollar a week allowance, bye bye The Castro ’cause I’ll drive you out!”

Deek had resumed showering affection upon Silver, so I didn’t know if he even paid attention to my additional words of caution. Nonetheless, I continued:

“You don’t get it, do you Deek? The more love and care you give those two pups, the better your OWN life becomes…more and more good things will HAPPEN to you! It’s actually an EEEEASY thing to do with such loving creatures, but you pointlessly rebel like a nasty brat, the playground bully!”

“Okay, okay!” he suddenly burst out, then gazed up at me with a sardonic grin. “I’ll bring him back. I was already planning to do that, but you go off on a CRAZY rant, when all I was doing was pressing your buttons!” Upon hearing that, my lungs deflated:

“Alright, I get it, and appreciate those words, but you DO realize don’t you, that I gotta be SURE Lucky and Flaco are well loved and taken care of, they mean EVERYTHING to me. They are GOOD dogs, they’re my FRIENDS! So I HAVE to act on what you say…and what you do, and I see you with a THIRD dog, my eyes don’t deceive!”

(To be continued in my next missive. Stay tuned.)

Re: Last Wednesday I had another talk with Micah…
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: July 10, 2022 at 12:25 AM

> So terrible. And DID he return Silver?

Yes, I told you that already, three days ago.

> And what could he be thinking, talking about getting Flaco pregnant by a dog twice her size? The pregnancy would kill her. So, so upsetting and awful.

He was just pressing my buttons, thank god.

> Poor brokenhearted babies. And poor you, your hands tied so completely.

It’s a monstrous situation on one level, everything’s fine on another. He just showed up outside, after midnight, and is sitting with the pups by the bus stop. Didn’t call up to me, but I heard the dogs bark. I think he may just hang out there for awhile without seeing me till tomorrow morning. Possibly sleep nearby.

Just by looking out the window, I could tell that Flaco & Lucky are back to their cheerful, happy, energetic selves once more. BIG improvement.

– Zeke K-Holmes

Re: Last Wednesday I had another talk with Micah… ADDENDUM
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: July 10, 2022 at 1:30 AM

1:10 AM now, and I just got back from bringing Deek his advance payment for Thursday, and a large, thick, fluffy comforter I found on the back porch several nights ago, for the doggies. Deek was surprised to see me, he just wanted to hang out on the corner. Two other vagrants were hangin’ with him, one a bubbly, raspy voiced black woman around 43 years old.

I said it’s okay, dogs woke me up, I’d know their barks anywhere. I then embraced the sweet little hounds before returning hovel to also bring down some water and more dog food. Deek thanked me, he was quite mellow, said he was high on shrooms at the moment. The raspy lady was feeding the pups some snacks, so I said make sure there are no onions in that.

She said oh I know, I’ve raised dogs myself…and Deek said we’ve already talked about that: no onions. Relieved to hear their reassurances, I embraced and pet the mutts one more time before wishing them a lovely evening and god bless, and returning hovel. The lady said god bless you too, I love you!

Filipino Kai was nearby, crouched with his back against the wall, smokin’ whatever and smiling. We gave each other a fist bump, I told him Deek did the right thing, he returned dog #3. You’re a good man, Zeke, and I love you, he replied. I love you too, Kai, thanks for such great support when I needed it most.

And with that, I finally returned hovel. I wasn’t really in bed when Deek and pups arrived, but I just told him that so he won’t get the idea it’s okay to drop by past midnight. I’m GLAD he showed up tonight, for I got to see how JOYFUL my brindlekin are once more! Like night and day, compared to just several days back, when he still had the pitbull.

– Zeke K-Holmes

Subject: 5 snapshots
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: July 10, 2022 at 10:27 AM

9:30 AM I steeped back out to bring the pups water. Deek was kind of awake because a black homeless dude, young with red-dyed hair, was out there standing around and bartering for a pair of sneakers. I set the bowl of agua down near his feet, but Deek said “put it over here,” meaning the space between himself and the cart. Soon as I did that I turned to go back hovel, but the black fellow stopped me, commented:

“I like your hat!”

“Oh, thanks,” I said, lowering my head to give him a closer look. “It’s a dragon hat, I like it too…Deek gave it to me.”

Now, here are five snapshots I took earlier, on my way to Rosenberg’s:

1. This is the first pic I took downstairs…and when I realized another dude was sleeping with Deek…who does NOT have a round butt, or dress like that! Nor have I ever seen him sleep with shoes and socks off. You can see Lucky curled up without any cover, and Flaco is barely visible at 11 o’clock behind her brother:

Click here for a larger view.

2. View from another angle where you clearly see that neither pooch is covered:

Click here for a larger view.

3. This is a grungy pullover hoodie I found on the street when I crossed Noe to sit on a bench and enjoy a few sips of my morning brew. I figured to take it back to the dogs and cover them with it. However, both pockets were stuffed with small, sticky items, all of which I removed and placed on the bench. You can see them right above the hoodie. My left hand was now sticky, too, and covered with lint and other unknown debris, which I wiped off as best I could with a half-sheet of newspaper. The stickiness came from three open packets of fast-food jam. But the hoodie was dry and free of odor, and that’s what really mattered:

Click here for a larger view.

4. Here you can easily see two people under the comforter, by the three feet sticking out: two shod, the other naked. And the brindlekin, of course:

Click here for a larger view.

5. The hounds are finally blanketed, but not much good that does now that the day is warming up, when they would’ve been better off with a top cover through the somewhat chilly wee hours. Flaco remained curled up and with eyes closed when I placed the hoodie on them, but Lucky raised his darling face in a drowsy greet, whence I kissed him on the schnozzle…then he lowered his head back down as I tucked them both in:

Click here for a larger view.

I got a glimpse of Deek’s companion for the night: good looking, dark-haired fellow around 24 years old with soft, kind features in a slightly round face (perhaps vestigial baby fat). Never seen him before. I think Deek was boinking him last night RIGHT IN FRONT OF MY BUILDING, but they were quiet (no moaning or other erotic cacophony), because when I peered out the window around 2:30 AM just before hitting the sack, I saw him making suggestive body motions, though hard to tell since they both appeared mostly clothed, and the tree blocked a chunk of the view, that is: the waist-to-thigh portion. So much for my deciding to step back outside to be sure the pups had a share of the blanket!

– Zeke K-Holmes

Texting with Wattson: 7/10/22


Subject: The biggest trick the devil ever pulled…
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: MCN announce, MCN discussion
Date: July 10, 2022 at 4:05 PM

Broadcasting anti-fascist memes is an important part of winning this global cyberwar, as our enemies are expert at using memes to poison minds. We of the noble opposition must invent our OWN anti-poison memes that are more persuasive and emotionally compulsive than what the enemy is coming up with. Start here, as a good example…invent your own, you may be surprised at how good you are at it:

Click here for a larger view.

Subject: How to be a successful meme creator!
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: MCN announce, MCN discussion
Date: July 10, 2022 at 4:41 PM

You can create a meme with just words, an image, or a combination thereof. Here are the rules for creating a successful meme:

1. Make it colorful in an appealing, eye-catching way, not clashing…bright but not TOO bright, colors should complement, not clash. There are the occasional exceptions, where clashing tones are best, for immediate shock value, depending on your message…just don’t overdo it.

2. The concept created by the image and/or words should be compelling, draw the viewer in, even hypnotically so, such that the beholder desires to gaze upon it for more than a few seonds, or think about it often, because the impact is striking.

3. The words you use must be as brief as possible, and catchy as possible, such that using rhyme is MOST effective, but not always. Be as witty and clever as possible. That often means taking an old saying and turning it into something new, which creates shock value and leaves a bold impression on the mind.

4. Your meme should be emotionally charged in one way or another…either to create ire and/or ego deflation for the enemy, or delight and/or righteousness for the ally. Or both.

5. You do not have to be an artist yourself to come up with a successful meme that could go viral. Just find a suitable image on the web and add or change the message you want to associate with it. Choose a solid, eye-catching font with colors that dazzle, or impresses the viewer in some other way.

6. To find an appropriate image, I recommend using a search engine that respects your privacy (Google doesn’t) like and Search for it by using an appropriate word or short phrase, then go through their “images” section to see what’s available.

7. Study the memes of our enemies, figure out just why they are successful, why they stick in people’s minds and inspire them to share it with their friends. Then figure out how to duplicate such appeal in your own anti-fascist meme, attempting to surpass your enemies’ talent in this department.

8. Let your dreams inspire you. Meditation is a powerful tool as well.

9. Besides sharing your memes with friends via email and chat, register with sites dedicated to memes, such as Memedroid and Imgur. There are many more, check this out:

Top 16 Meme Websites to Find Popular and Viral Memes

Join all of them, if possible, but even just one or two is fine. If your meme is catchy and dazzling enough, it WILL take wing. However, if you consider yourself a real TROOPER for the noble cause you will, of course, subscribe to at least FIVE of the most popular meme sites.

10. Believe in yourself, your ideals and your dreams. And know that you SHALL be victorious in the long run, for Goodness is unstoppable, just takes some love and elbow grease.

– Zeke Krahlin a.k.a. “Jehovah’s Queer Witness”
Fighting the good fight since becoming a zygote.

The Eviction Fiasco (part 12)

June 29, 2022

[BRINDLEKIN TALES – Book 6: Chapter 3]

Subject: I received the nicest compliment this morning…
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: June 23, 2022 at 10:40 AM

…as I was setting out more water for the pups, petting them and wishing Deek a good morning. He was a city worker, dressed in the traditional garb of a yellow nylon vest over a plaid shirt, helmet and blue jeans…and had just pulled up in a truck thirty feet from where I was tending to Deek and hounds. He hopped out of his vehicle and, as he walked by, gave me a thumbs up and said:

“That’s a good thing you’re doing, thank you!”

He was, of course, referring to my charitable gestures towards a homeless person. I told him:

“Thanks! He’s a good friend of mine for many years.”

Otherwise, an uneventful start to my day…ALSO a good thing. Deek was in excellent spirits, and his furry charges appeared happy and healthy, as they always do. They slept all night at that spot. I stepped out around midnight to check up on them, and saw that Lucky was comfortably curled up on a bunched jacket behind Deek’s bent knees, but Flaco was resting upon the concrete while scrunched up against her master’s torso. Deek was sound asleep, and when he is, NOTHING wakes him up. At least he had the good sense to lash their leases to the cart before crashing out.

Since I couldn’t ask his permission, I just pulled out of his shopping cart, a large, clean and thick drop cloth, and laid it close beside Flaco. She immediately took to it, and in no time was bundled up close to her master, with her little nose poking out, and golden eyes gazing up at me in gratitude. There was also a fluffy, small comforter in that same cart, so I threw it over Lucky, which pleased him. Glad to report it was very quiet all last night, including Deek and doggies. BTW:


Grand total came to $141.21, because tax (free shipping). Before purchasing, I looked over my budget and saw that I CAN afford it NOW, and still have $301 remaining, after deducting my rent ($301.59), next smartphone payment ($21.50), Amazon Prime ($7.59/mo.), Google Drive ($1.99/mo.), and what’s left of Deek’s allowance for the month ($100). I’M SITTIN’ PRETTY in more ways than one. Thank God for Covid-boosted food stamps allotment!

Re: I received the nicest compliment this morning…
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: June 23, 2022 at 12:28 PM

> That’s quite a picture….

With Flaco’s sweet attention bringing the whole scene together, the pic makes itself! I like the Doritos bag looming in the foreground, then the bicycle and shopping cart framing Deek and the doggies like a protective barrier.

I actually wanted to shoot it from the other side, but Deek was stirring and might have caught me in the act…which would’ve pissed him off.

They’re still there, and it’s now afternoon. I’m gonna step outside to see if they need more water. I already gave ’em a fresh supply of pooch vittles this morning.

I wonder how my quasi-fascist neighbor down the hall, Moe Fleisher, feels about them camping out so often almost below his window…especially since they’ve been so quiet for the most part, over the past two months or so. Resident manager Kevin ALSO resides above that corner, on the top floor.

They’ve witnessed this positive transformation over the months–from raucous to peaceful–so if they have a heart (which debate remains ongoing) they should be impressed and happy about it.

I feel like I’m living in an ant colony.

– Zeke K-Holmes

Subject: I brought the hounds more water, and…
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: June 23, 2022 at 1:23 PM

…took three more snapshots. I actually think having them around my building more often just may be the ticket towards establishing them as the mascots of Hotel California North! Residents will warm up to them, pet them, bring them food, treats, etc….and maybe even form a friendly bond with their master. The doggies are SO lovely, sweet and kind.

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

Subject: My Eviction Status Update
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: June 23, 2022 at 4:49 PM

Short while ago my attorney emailed me with an update, and some questions. Here is my reply:


My attorney posted:

> Ok great. Thank you. I think it is fine to wait with a response to the summons and complaint for now until you get properly served. I trust you in reporting it to me on time when you receive it.

I will contact you immediately upon receive the summons and complaint, noting the date and time of delivery.

> I reviewed the summons and complaint more closely and they did not attach the lease agreement to the summons and complaint but in the complaint they claim that they attached it, so my plan is to start with a motion to have the landlord fix that when you get served.

Sounds good.

> Just let me know when you receive the summons and complaint and we can take it from there.

Roger that!

> In the meantime, a few more questions:
> Do you have any issues/defects in the unit right now? Things that are broken or not working? For example: no heat/no hot water/ no proper lock on the door/no working windows/pests etc.

We have fairly frequent bedbug infestations that never seem to clear up...been going on for years. One window has had a crack in it for years, that I told the manager about, but he never responded. The room has been in shabby condition overall for a LONG time, including exposed, splintery soft-wood floor. Radiator valve has been leaking for over a year, maybe I just keep a bucket below it, and empty it every morning. Radiator heat is sometimes active, even when the nights are still warm, it can get like a sauna in here, even though I have it turned completely off. Years ago, a previous manager had styrofoam sleeves put over the vertical radiator pipe leading to the floor above, in order to reduce the amount of heat coming from it. That sleeve has been crumbling apart for several years now, bit by bit.

Last year I asked the manager if the radiator could be removed, he said yes, but never followed up. My little electric heater does a fine job of keeping me warm on cold nights, and it doesn't heat up my room when it isn't needed.

I actually have a great blog page with photos of my room, and some of the history living in it. Here it is.

I moved into this room in 1984, and the then-managers (a lesbian couple) gave me a $25 monthly deduction if I don't mind that they don't fix it up for I said okay, and it was in the worn condition from the previous tenant's use. I never dreamed I'd be living here for more than three or four years, so it was no big deal to me.

Here is a picture of my cracked window, which cracks I have taped over.

And here is the shabby condition of my floor.

I have read the rent laws for California, and it says the landlord must fix up the unit (or offer to do that) every five years. I don't know what "fix up" entails, but one would think that does not exclude single rooms.

> Are you current on the rent?

Yes. I always pay my rent on time, never missed a beat. As you know, my rent check for June has been rejected, and the money is sitting in my bank, for that amount.


Subject: Illusion vs. Reality
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: June 24, 2022 at 12:57 PM

I don’t regard illusion and reality as a “versus” at all, in that they are NOT in genuine opposition, but overlap and mingle. However, for the sake of argument let us proceed with my “versus” theory:

Assuming that Deek is indeed one of my bodhisattva guides, he is quite capable of creating an illusion at the drop of a hat. This would therefore include my witnessing him being either abusive or negligent towards the pups. For example:

When I see him yanking on their necks, that is not at all what’s happening…rather, Deek manifested the illusion of his doing so, in order to “test” me. And since I have no choice but to believe what my senses tell me, I have a moral obligation to speak out and confront him on that. IOW it would be foolish and irresponsible of me to ASSUME that’s an illusion, and remain quiet about it. For had I done so, his estimation of me would plummet, and he’d convey a lousy assessment of me to his higher-ups (whoever they may be).

For I HAVE seen him acting most affectionately towards the dogs at other times, and frequently. His presumably poor treatment may therefore be a RUSE for my “benefit”…that once again I am provided the opportunity to play the hero. And until further SOLID evidence that abuse or neglect of his charges are indeed illusory, it is wisest of me to continue to regard these offenses as real, and act accordingly.

This theory aligns perfectly with the broader application of my Bodhisattva Premise, which is:

“All tragic scenarios are illusory. Whether past or present, whether personal or on a grander scale (such as war). Each person in their own time will come to realize this, but not before all the harsher lessons have been learned. But KNOWING this secret does not let you off the hook from not acting upon what your senses convey. You MUST do whatever you can to relieve as much as possible the apparent suffering at hand. Then in what way does revelation of this secret benefit a person? Because in realizing it, your own grief is greatly ameliorated, and may be a positive influence on others.”

That’s it in a nutshell, Wattson. Of course there must be a thorough elaboration on this (what many may consider “startling”) synopsis, in order to present my case in a thorough and fair-minded way. Because anyone with questions deserves honest answers…though some may STILL not grok the reasoning or its benevolent implications, simply because they are not yet mature enough in spirit for that particular veil of illusion to be lifted. In which case, no matter how much explanation they receive, no matter how many examples given, it will go IN one ear and out the other.

But please note that I have ALREADY accomplished in previous chapters–scattered about my books like pearls of great price–answers to all POSSIBLE questions anyone might have on this matter. And for THAT reason you may breathe a sigh of relief as my first (and most avid) reader, as I will FOREGO said elaboration in this, my latest missive. WHEW!

– Zeke K-Holmes

From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: June 24, 2022 at 5:26 PM

I just need you to see if you can access the folder, and view any of the pages therein, before I send the following email to my attorney:


Subject: Records of a lawsuit against Arikat Realty from early 2000s

You have private access to this Google Drive folder, which contains five sample pages from my sheaf of documents regarding a lawsuit successfully won by a group of residents, including myself. Serious issue regarding asbestos and lead, and grievances around the process of removing it. I’m thinking these records may help with my present case. I can bring you the whole sheaf. This is SF Superior Court Case #666999, “Olympia et al. vs. Ablahblah et al.”


From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: June 24, 2022 at 6:08 PM

> Yes! Can see them all. Five of them.

Fantastic! I just realized it’s Friday and Ms. Elvensborn is not in her office…plus, it’s no longer working hours, anyway. So I’ll send it out Monday morning. I had a heck of a time digging up those papers, only due to my own stupidity.

I FORGOT that eight months back I had removed them from one of my boxes on the loft, which are also filled with my artwork from the ’90s (including three copyright certificates, one with 666 as the last three of six numbers, and it’s the “Don’t Tread on MOI” snake design, of all things…and the first three numbers are police code for homicide, imagine that)…along with my records and correspondence regarding Randolph Taylor’s suicide attempt and my resurrecting public concern about him. So eight months ago I had transferred the lawsuit documents into a large folder sheathed in a clear plastic travel pouch…and stashed it in the oblong plastic container by the window, where I also keep my summer shirts.

So I spent almost TWO FUKKIN HOURS pawing through those boxes on the loft with no success, then wondering WHERE the heck I put those lawsuit documents. Then I thought:

“Maybe I stuck them in that oblong plastic container where I store my summer shirts? Probably not, but I can’t leave ANY stone unturned.”

Don’t know WHY I moved those lawsuit pages to another location that makes it easier to get TO them. Suffice it to say my intuition was spot on, as I did NOT consciously foresee needing to access them, ever again.

Ah, the subconscious, my sweet, sweet subconscious! If I could yank my brain right out of its skull this very minute, I’d shower it with kisses!

– Zeke K-Holmes

Click here for a larger view.

From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: June 24, 2022 at 6:22 PM

P.S.: In addition to those lawsuit papers stashed in that oblong box, I had also included your printout of a novel in progress that you kindly shared with me, accompanied with a “for your eyes only” note. The date stamp is partially washed out, so the month is unknown, but the year is ’02, and the day is the 27th. Proof our friendship goes back to at LEAST 2002. Don’t know WHY I transferred your draft to that oblong plastic box, along with the lawsuit papers. I guess THAT revelation must remain secret for awhile longer. But the two are OBVIOUSLY connected somehow, some way. Also: Timothy Dipalma’s speculation regarding a wormhole tunnel from my room (or at least, my building) to somewhere in Mendocino does not seem so farfetched any more! Do I hear the Twilight Zone theme song playing in the background right now? Yes, yes I do!

From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: June 24, 2022 at 7:53 PM

> Gawrsh!! Is that a signpost up ahead??

All roads lead to Zeke…or Mendocino…depending on whether you’re comin’ or goin’, but wormhole distortion makes it impossible to tell, thanks to topological mojo and the hibble with the jibble and all that razzmatazz. Yay science!

– Zeke K-Holmes

Subject: Spent almost an hour last night…
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: June 24, 2022 at 10:30 PM

…seated outside with the pups, sometimes partially reclined on the shabby blanket Deek provided. Lucky was fast asleep, but Flaco insisted on sitting up and watching the world go by…so long as her master is nowhere near. She also remains attentive for his return. But once he shows up again and stands within a few feet of her, she’s perfectly fine to lie back down and get some shuteye.

I noticed her shivering a bit as I held her in my arms and rubbed her belly…but the night was almost balmy, so I presume this was her nervousness being right along noisy foot traffic without her master close by. I told Deek he needs to crash out on a side street, just around the corner will do…so Flaco can get her rest for the night. She’s different than Lucky that way…it’s a BIG deal for her to protect her master from anyone’s approach…she doesn’t know WHO these people are!

Anyway, I got to hug and be close to BOTH pups for an exquisite 50+ minutes, though I didn’t care to be sitting on the sidewalk with so many passersby…and right in front of my building. But I’ll take what I can get, when it comes to enjoying their darling company. Someone offered me a can of soda, but I smiled and said no thanks. He jiggled the can before me and said it’s empty, I can recycle it. It was then I realized he thought I was homeless. He was a nice fellow anyway, so I just said oh, okay, thanks, and took it from his hand.

My tablet is set up to video record anyone at my door, once I open it. Then the viewer of that video will see the landlord (or whomever) standing there to hand deliver the Court Summons. Easy peasy, because the tablet is already posed that way for normal, everyday use. I just have to click on the camera icon, then the front-facing option, and I’m good to go! Here is a test run (21 seconds).

And here’s my latest Youtube video taken today, just 5 seconds, called “No Privacy!”:

Even though I reside on the second floor, sometimes there is this or that city worker right outside my window, doing something with the cables, the streetlamp, or in this case, untangling the rainbow flag during Pride Week.

Party atmosphere outside of course, it’s Pride Weekend. And I’m glad Deek and hounds haven’t shown up tonight, due to the crowds. Though it’s not particularly noisy, nothing “wild,” just folks in friendly chatter milling about and moving along. I’m impressed. Never seen a Gay Pride Saturday night so mellow, before.

Pleasant dreams, Wattson! Tomorrow’s the grand parade. Will they invite me to march at the head of the festive event, or will I just be left behind in the dust of my hovel? Oh, what a cliffhanger this is, but I’m sure you’re too tired to turn the page at this late hour…so you’ll just have to set the book down on your bedstand for the nonce, and resume the reading OF it upon the next rise of the sun, and the dawn of a new life!

Which last five words of the previous paragraph are also the title of the last chapter of Free Me From This Bond.

– Zeke K-Holmes

Subject: The Scene Outside
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: June 24, 2022 at 11:14 PM

Very mellow tonight…unexpectedly so! 15 boring seconds:

But earlier in the day, it WAS kinda noisy…albeit for good reason: a march to demonstrate in opposition to the death of Roe vs. Wade. 14 boring seconds:

Everything’s coming to a crescendo in my world: the timing of this eviction crisis, Gay Pride Week, my birthday, a fabulous attorney shows up to save the day, Deek’s vastly improved behavior, the eradication of a woman’s right to privacy soon to be followed by nullification of the rights of LGBTs and other minorities, your unanticipated arrival in SF with Erwyn on June 16th that marked a splendiferously gorgeous day, my rekindled rapport with Calvin Hope (and a new one with Kind Warlock), my refurbished Chromebook due to arrive shortly gratis Amazon Prime…and this annoying, little tough skin tag growing out the side of my neck that’s returned after drying and shriveling up into nothing three months ago thanks to a dab of tea tree oil rubbed into it several days in a row, but has returned again, so I’m applying the oil once more, this time for extra days to be sure it’ll be gone for good.


– Zeke K-Holmes

From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: June 25, 2022 at 10:29 PM

> Alas, the chip you sent (bet you can’t eat just one) appears to be nonfunctional. I tested out the adapter with a different chip, and that one worked, so it ain’t the adapter or the computer. Rats! Some kind of mini-rebellion of inanimate objects goin’ on here.

Oh fudge. It worked fine for me, I tested it and the videos play. Are you sure you can play .mkv files on your system? I mean, can you view the files, but they refuse to play when you double-click on ’em?

‘Cause if it’s just an .mkv problem, you can install a free and excellent media player called VLC, which handles that format and many others, like a boss.

– Zeke K-Holmes

From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: June 26, 2022 at 12:15 PM

> The external drive (E on my computer) does not even appear, alas. It does with a different chip in the adapter, no prob.

Okay, that narrows it down. You may as well reformat the chip, and use it for your own needs…or mail it back, I don’t really care. It’s only 16GB. Meanwhile, I will send you the same files on a standard size sd card in a day or two. It’s been lying around forever, and is a whopping 64 GB…but I really have no need for it. I will reformat it first, before copying the files over. My conclusion:

This is one of the UNTOLD Sister Boniface mysteries, not in the TV series.

– Zeke K-Holmes

Subject: Found an old, standard 8 GB card…
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: June 26, 2022 at 6:21 PM

…lying around in the back of my computer junk cabinet. I will mail it out tomorrow. Just as well, because I didn’t know there were two more episodes for season 1, that I didn’t include in that funky microchip. AIN’T THAT SYNCHRONISTICALLY COPACETIC!

– Zeke K-Holmes

Re: Found an old, standard 8 GB card…
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: June 26, 2022 at 10:13 PM

> It sho’ nuff is!

Smokin’! Two months ago I originally downloaded 7 episodes, though the 8th one was online, as well. Unfortunately, it had no seeders, so impossible to acquire. But around two weeks later, discovered ep. 8 now had several seeders, and was thus obtainable. I foolishly concluded, then, that season one was complete with the 8th. I finally got around to sharing them with you, and deleted the original downloads from my drive.

But since you informed me the microchip was defunct–and I really wanted you to enjoy the series–I had no choice but to do it all over again, whereby I found the entire season all wrapped up in one, large, 2.6 GB compressed file. So I decided to download THAT instead of clicking on each separate episode on the “sister boniface” search list, of which there were but 7 episodes. I sensibly assumed that downloading the compressed file would give me all eight shows.

But to my surprise and delight, upon opening that bloated file I discovered episodes 9 and 10! I just finished watching the 9th ep., and enjoyed it immensely. It was about “twinning” two towns, the one S. Boniface lives in, the other in Germany. A way of healing the rift from WW2. Remember, this series is set in the sixties.

And of course, since the good nun lives there, another murder HAD to happen or we wouldn’t have a show! I love how these British mystery series with amateur detectives, always have homicides handily occur at a convenient walking distance from the sleuth (or sleuth team, as sometimes these shows feature a pair of friends or siblings, or whatever). Makes you think that the REAL murders were actually committed by a serial killer (or pair of ’em), instead of the one so accused at the end…just so the star sleuth(s) of the show would have something to brag about, for having “solved” the latest crime!

Can you imagine Sister Boniface scuttling about under cover of night, bumping off one person after another, a week apart in order to keep the series going…and planting false evidence to take the focus and suspicion away from her?

I plan to watch the 10th and final episode in a short while from now.

Alas, yet another Pride March and I wasn’t invited to lead the parade. What the fuk is wrong with them? They should have their heads examined…or better yet: rolled!

No Deek and pups last night or this evening…just as well, because of the masses of celebrants here in the Castro. My new Chromebook arrives tomorrow, sometime before 9 PM. Oh joy!

– Zeke K-Holmes

Click here for a larger view.

Subject: My Slummy Morning
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: June 27, 2022 at 10:18 AM

Besides the trashy sidewalk (see pic) I was awakened this morning by the cacophony of jackhammers pounding away. This 7-second video shows exactly what I saw and heard the moment I stepped out the front gate.

Caption: “Jackhammers and a blocked sidewalk were this morning’s challenge to get through on my way to Rosenberg’s around the corner to purchase my usual early-bird steaming cup of java…the day after Pride March. The glittery festivities are over, and it’s back to the dreary ‘normal.’ I guess we should count our lucky gay stars there wasn’t a Christo-Fascist Domestic Terrorist Massacre to put a damper on the celebration. Maybe next year.”

So today may or may not be the day Ablahblah Realty hand delivers a Court Summons. Maybe this will expand into a string of “may or may not” days…I just love the anticipation, and waking up to it! /s

Now, a reflection upon my quasi-friendly encounter with my neighbor, Asher, on 22 May (the one who left a note on my door about starting a tenants union for this building):

He was most likely acting as spy for the building manager, since his questions matched exactly what one would ask in such a role. And his shaky voice, dry mouth and nervous body language indicated SOMEthing was going on other than a casual encounter. But ask me if I care:

I don’t. I accept all players in my living diorama to be part of the grand scheme scripted by my wondrous bodhisattva guardians. This stressful, drawn-out scenario is nothing more than a challenge for me to overcome what feelings remain of anxiety, fear, anger or any other negative emotion. And I believe I’ve scored an A+++ thus far, and always will for as long as the test continues.

FYI: it was Calvin Hope who–after looking over the tenants union note–suggested that it might have been a ruse fabricated by the building manager, to see if I’d post any complaints on the Facebook page, and perhaps entrap me as a result. Or just wanted to find out what he might be up against. Which implies that Asher’s note was taped to my door and no one else’s. I DID check out all the other doors in my hallway when I removed it from my own portal, and did NOT see a single envelope attached anywhere else!

BIG FAIL on his/their part, if such be the case!

– Zeke K-Holmes

Subject: Latest private email from Nazi reprobate Spike Dewars
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: MCN announce, MCN discussion
Date: June 27, 2022 at 12:52 PM

Yesterday I received the following email from him:


Subject: Have a nice day FAGGOT ?
From: Spike Dewars
To: Zeke Krahlin
Date: June 26, 11:41 AM

We did, driving up and down the cool Mendo coast in my classic Stutgart German made Mercedes. Had a nice meal at the Westport Hotel after a day on the beach drinking beer and having a picnic.

Well, we're back home now.

Enjoy that WONDERFUL faggot life in your Castro Gay Ghetto.

Sieg Heil !


Attached were four innocuous photos, apparently to show me just what a nice time he had yesterday…and that he’s livin’ the dream and I should be ferociously jealous. IOW: your typical drama queen display of ostentatiousness that comes of gross male insecurity and worship of expensive goods that he thinks proves to the world what a great success he is. Nothing could be further from the truth!

Funny thing is, these are OLD photos he sent me two years back, as well! And the embedded data in the hotel pic reveals that the snapshot was NOT taken on the day before, but on March 4, 2004! See for yourself, in the fifth link below.

That was what…18 years ago? He already looks OLD in that pic, so I can’t IMAGINE how decrepit he appears these days. And that lady with him: I bet shortly after the photo was taken she came to her senses and walked out on the idiot for good!

So, just as I suspected, Mr. Braggadocio Dewars did NOT visit San Francisco yesterday; he’s just a compulsive liar with Nazi-type Walter Mitty Fantasies. Amirite, Ms. 2-Biased? Woo-hoo!

Subject: Unboxing My Chromebook
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: June 27, 2022 at 2:53 PM

Just arrived an hour ago. The video is 1 minute, 17 seconds:

Refurbished by Amazon: $130 for this HP 14″ model with 4 GB RAM and 64 GB storage. Quite a bargain, looks spanking new, and the display and speakers are good quality. I look forward to installing Linux to run beside Chromebook OS. Best of all: software and security updates will continue until June 2029! By which time, if I’m still using it, I can run it solely on Linux! All my settings and apps from my “old” Chromebook (which I got off the streets, used and rather dilapidated, and stopped working a month later) were installed on my new device…a rather pleasing feature.

Re: Unboxing My Chromebook
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: June 27, 2022 at 3:15 PM

> SO cool!!!!

Definitely. Because purchasing this Chromebook is also a stubborn affirmation that I SHALL remain a resident OF this room for time immemorial, no matter WHICH demons come knocking at my door to scare me away, or how frequently they try. I hereby change the popular (and rather hackneyed) phrase, “Life goes on” to “Zeke goes on.” Huzzah!

– Zeke K-Holmes

Re: My Slummy Morning
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: June 27, 2022 at 5:05 PM

> I’m in awe of your calm and forbearance…

Me too…didn’t know I had it in me, but now I know. My chest bursts with pride, like in that horror film, “Alien,” only cute.

> On a separate note: I was just talking on the phone with retired psychiatrist friend of mine, and I told her about my ongoing dilemma with Van’s widow. My friend said it sounds as if Darly would qualify for SSI. I agree, and I’m going to look into it. Problem is; one of Darly’s areas of insanity involves fear and hatred of Social Services…

I wonder how authentic that “fear and hatred” really is. She’d rather create needless grief by sucking on your finances. Misery loves company, as the saying goes…and she may be in a tailspin of grief from the loss of a loved one, which can cause a person to conjure up tragic scenarios for those around her.

Deek is the same way, he said he NEVER takes gov’t handouts (like it’s something to brag about)…so I reminded him he benefits from MY gov’t handouts, and that most of the free meals and other services he accepts are from gov’t funding. But I understand his situation, because in his circumstance, accepting SSI will force him to go indoors in some lonely dump, probably have to give up his dogs, and also be locked into appointments with a social worker, drug rehab, etc.

Darly, however, is sitting pretty when it comes to being in an ideal circumstance to receive SSI. She’d also be eligible for other services, such as housecleaning and drop-in assistance for other needs. Under such dire and desperate circumstances, you probably can NOT keep Van’s wish that you remain her guardian. Not at the cost of your own demise…and I’m sure he’d understand.

– Zeke K-Holmes

From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: June 29, 2022 at 10:27 AM

Here is what I just emailed to my attorney:


Around 10:10 AM today. Here is a 48 second video of the encounter (shot from my Chromebook sitting on the desk).

And here's a backup link to that same video.


From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: June 29, 2022 at 12:11 PM

> Who was that who delivered the papers??

The PATRIARCH of the Ablahblah dynasty, IOW: the fukkin OWNER of this building.

> That sounded fairly promising….”We’ll work it out.”

It was an APOLOGY…the first of many to come. I wonder if Kevin has already been reprimanded. Dammit, there are many disadvantages to NOT being a fly on the wall!

> Whew!!!!!!!!! At least THAT suspenseful wait is over!!!!

To put it mildly. Still waiting on Ms. Elvensborn’s reply, but I’m not anxious about it. I have since uploaded the video of the court summons delivery to my Youtube channel. I know you’ve already seen it, but the description is priceless:

There was a knock on my door at 10:10 AM. It was the hand delivery of my court summons regarding threat of eviction upon yours truly. It was a wrongful series of false accusations that led to this crisis. However, I have a superb attorney, and it looks very much like Ablahblah Realty is going to drop all charges. For me, it’s been a lesson in faith that “we have no enemies, only teachers” as the Buddha once said. I therefore do not lust for vengeance on my so-called enemies, and even seek to make this debacle a win-win outcome for all parties involved. This has also been another kind of lesson for me: how to release fear, worry, anger and any other negative emotion, enjoy each day no matter what threats loom on the horizon, and bless the world and everyone in it. IT FUKKIN WORKS!

Subject: My attorney’s reply, and my response:
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: June 29, 2022 at 2:08 PM



On Wed, Jun 29, 2022 at 8:33 PM Magdalena Elvensborn wrote:

> Ok, thanks for letting me know. That means that the response will be due on Thursday July 7, 2022 and I will work on it. Was your lease agreement attached to the Summons and Complaint? Also, do you know the person who gave you the papers? Thank you.

No, my lease agreement was not included. The summons is comprised of ten pages. You can view them all on my Gdrive, where the file names start with "summons" and are numbered consecutively.

As for the name of the person who delivered them: as you can tell in the video, he never said who he was. I am presuming it was Mr. Ablahblah himself, who is the property owner. He said you should call him. The video is entitled "court-summons-delivered_22-06-29."


We’re off to the races, Wattson, lookin’ good! His failure to state his name, and to not include my rental contract in the summons can certainly buy me more time. But I don’t see any real need to stretch things out, as my success is already in the bag. Meow!

– Zeke K-Holmes

Subject: My attorney’s 2nd post today:
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: June 29, 2022 at 3:18 PM


On Wed, Jun 29, 2022 at 3:11 PM Magdalena Elvensborn wrote:

> I think it was probably the attorney of the landlord.


> Please know that it is illegal to record someone without their permission in CA, just so you know.

Okay, thanks. But the recording is shadowy, the visitor is therefore indistinguishable, his name was not stated...thus remains anonymous in that video. It is for my personal records only. At any rate, I just removed it from my Gdrive. I thought it would be legal to use like a hidden security camera...sorry!

> So, the landlord claims in the complaint that they attached the lease, but they did not, so I will file a demurrer on Thursday for that. I don’t need your signature for that, it will just delay things for now. In the meantime, I will reach out to the landlord’s attorney again to try to get this dismissed. I don’t know why they are moving forward with this UD.

I'm guessing lack of communication between their attorney and the landlord. The visitor seemed apologetic, himself...very friendly, and is why I suspect it's Mr. Arikat himself, not their lawyer. Since I presume you didn't watch the video, here's a transcript:

"Hey, Zeke, I'm here to give you the legal papers, so you should take this to your legal aid attorney, and they'll be in touch, and I'm assuming the dogs aren't here any more...we'll work it out, make sure no more violations, no more problems, alright...tell your attorney to call me, tell them you've gotten served with papers...and we're gonna work it out...apparently there have been some issues...and so we'll resolve all of that."

Thanks again for your diligence, Ms. Elvensborn, greatly appreciated, to say the least.


Subject: My attorney’s 3rd post today:
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: June 29, 2022 at 4:09 PM


On Wed, Jun 29, 2022 at 3:55 PM Magdalena Elvensborn wrote:

> It cannot be the landlord himself because he is by law not allowed to serve the papers to you because he is a party to this action. That would be a defect. You have never seen Mr. Arikat before?

That's what you said in one of your earlier emails, but the one you sent on 6/21/22, 4:47 PM, said:

"The landlord has to personally serve you with the attached summons and complaint and then the 5 court days will start to tick to respond."

Be that as it may, it's been so many years since I saw him last, I don't remember what he looks like. He may have lost considerable weight since then, as the fellow who served the summons was not just elderly, but skinny.


Re: My attorney’s 4th (and last) post today:
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: June 29, 2022 at 6:05 PM


On Wed, Jun 29, 2022 at 4:18 PM Magdalena Elvensborn wrote:

> Yes, I realize that that is confusing. I apologize. The landlord has to serve you but he cant do it himself because he is a party in this case. We still say the landlord served you although he just gave a third party the actual assignment of serving the documents. Not sure if that makes sense? Let me know if not and I can try to explain better. Thank you.

Aha, I understand your point...thanks! I just think this serving of papers is a sloppy arrangement (though legal), because not required to certify the delivery in some way, such as getting my signature, recording the transaction, or having a witness there. It can come down to his word against mine. And if they must make three delivery attempts before getting the court's permission to mail the summons, what's to stop them from claiming they've made all three attempts, though they may not have, at all? Again, their word against mine. And what's to stop a renter from refusing to answer any of those three knocks on the door?

At any rate, please don't mind my questions, as I am sure you are ridiculously busy helping many other vulnerable people, and I do not care to drain you of your valuable time with queries that won't facilitate my case. I'd rather you take every free moment you get, to just RELAX...rather than answer some questions about the legal process I may have. I'm just reflecting on this interesting debacle I've been sucked into

Have an excellent evening, Magdalena!


The Eviction Fiasco (part 11)

June 22, 2022

[BRINDLEKIN TALES – Book 6: Chapter 2]

Re: Try this:
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: June 19, 2022 at 7:16 PM

> You can see the pile of food, but the doggy wants to give kisses and gratitude first:

> Only then does he/she dig in:

That is SO incredibly sweet, thank you!

Subject: Damn, I spelled “flak” wrong!
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: June 19, 2022 at 10:53 PM

After I sent it off, I discovered I misspelled it “flack.” Otherwise, no typos in my points of defense. So Deek dropped by three hours ago, just had a largish-but-lightweight, battered old speaker to charge, a shoddy round palm-sized speaker, and a smartphone with many thin cracks in the screen. Of course I embraced and pet both doggies before taking his gadgets upstairs. He was very mellow, BTW, and we had a decent conversation.

It’s like he knows what I’m going through, and is being kind because of that. Assuming he’s one of my guardians, and this is all a script (and a surprise celebration for yours truly coming up very soon), then of COURSE he knows what I’m going through! As do my attorney, Ablablah’s attorney, the resident manager, et al.

When I heard him call his usual “Yo!” at my window, and I stuck my head out, he also exclaimed: “It’s Father’s Day!”

Deek loves holidays, every one of ’em, and who am I to dampen his spirit? So when I came downstairs, I wished him a happy Father’s Day, and he did likewise. Then showed me this gorgeous elephant statue resting atop a pile of crap in his shopping cart. It’s made of dark, polished wood, and tusks that look like genuine ivory…the size of half a breadbox.

“That’s quite a collectible, Deek!” I pointed out. “You should get good money for that.”

He also had aNOTHER statue made of lighter-toned wood but the same size: maybe a version of the Buddha, though black-bearded and standing with his arms raised towards the sky, palms up. There were some Chinese pictographs carved into the robe-draped lower back. This icon was also all the same color (that is, of lightly varnished wood) except for a few deft black and red strokes that accented the beard and head.

“That should get me a pretty penny or two, as well!” Deek remarked.

I nodded in agreement, “uh-huh,” while crouched over the concrete to caress my darling brindlekin once more. They both stood up to place their forepaws on my knee and shower me with doggy kisses, and I drew them in close with my right arm.

I then marched back upstairs, and Deek and hounds took off for parts unknown. I was surprised that Deek returned so soon to pick up his electronics: barely an hour later!

“Is it ready?” Deek called up, meaning the new 32 GB microchip I inserted into the phone to replace the old 16 GB chip, and which allowed me to include ALL 5,500+ of his still-growing collection of rap songs.

“Yes and no!” I replied, for the phone was nowhere near charged to the max. He usually waits at LEAST two hours before collecting his toys…but I guess he was jonesing for that higher capacity chip!

“Never mind, just bring it down!” he insisted.

Once I stepped outside to hand him these items, I said with a puzzled brow:

“You came back very soon, and this phone is only charged to fourteen percent!”

“Seriously?” he replied.

“Yeah,” I affirmed. “You’ve only been gone an hour, and that’s a slow-charging phone because the battery’s seen better days.”

“Well, lemme take it anyway,” he said. “I’ll figure somethin’ out.”

Then off they went, leaving me stunned with his noncombative statement and lack of frustration over the disappointing percentage.

“That’s not the Deek *I* know,” I thought to myself. “But I’ll take this one, he’s a much better model.”

I visited with Morey at the corner store this afternoon, and asked if they still have that video recording of the assault on their shop last year, in August. And possibly, a police report. He said he wasn’t there when it happened (though I know his brother was, and Sami). Long story short:

He evaded my request, including to talk with Sami, his skinny, elderly coworker:

“Oh I don’t think he wants to think about that right now,” he replied, “He’s dealing with cancer remission.”

“I’m so sorry to hear that,” I told him. Anyway, the final outcome was that I should just look up Adisa’s name on the SFPD crime database, to see if there even IS a police report.

“Okay,” I obliged. “I may not even NEED to refer to that incident, regarding my lawsuit. I already have my own video of Myrtle’s son-and-friends’ harassment.”

I found Morey’s hesitancy kinda weird, because his brother said they have it all on tape, when I spoke with him on the day of the assault. And that Adisa and friends had knives on them. Since the young fools ran off before the cops showed up, I don’t think their names are known, thus won’t appear in the police report, if one was indeed filed. I didn’t even bring UP his brother, because I saw this conversation was gettin’ sticky. Morey even seemed NERVOUS that I brought this up. I sense our friendly association for countless months may have soured, now. But we’ll just have to wait and see, eh, Wattson?

It’s all part of the script, anyway, and Morey is just playing a role.

– Zeke K-Holmes

P.S.: I’m surprised Deek hasn’t returned tonight, to get those gizmos now fully charged. Though I think he carries has his own power strip to feed off a PG&E underground line, like Boulevard Joe does all the time, and taught him that trick. GOOD! I’m tired of him griping that my building has “slow” electricity. The only thing “slow” going on here is his learning curve.

Now, between pauses in typing this missive, I reflected upon the two statues Deek showed me today, of which he really made a point that I see them:

Ganesha the elephant god, remover of all obstacles, and the Buddha, or some other beloved wise figure in Chinese lore! They came through Deek’s hand to comfort me! Did Deek KNOW what he was doing, being the shaman/trickster I suspect he is?

This eviction crisis is the dragon’s face lowered just inches from mine, its steamy vapors swirling about my head, tongues of flames licking almost close enough to sear my skin! Yet I do not tremble in fear, but remain steadfast, staring into its orange-gold irises that gaze back upon my own hazel eyes. Arwyn! The Dragon! Just as he was in chapter one of Free Me From This Bond!

I am the Tarot card’s Fool, just stepped off a cliff in blithe disregard, free-falling through the air, downward, ever downward, but looking up into the cerulean sky and cottony clouds, in undying faith that I shall have a soft landing in a lovely meadow of orange poppies, with Flaco and Lucky delighted to see me again. And Deek, and so many others. I surmise that includes YOU as well, good physician!

Subject: Waiting to hear from my attorney…
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: June 20, 2022 at 10:06 AM

…while I excoriate the bimbos on the MCN mailing lists. I just figured out why I couldn’t get more than just basic info on my Superior Court account:

I first need to pay a fee of $214 before they’ll unlock the remaining files, including the one where I register an appeal. That is where Bay Area Legal Aid comes in, they will cover all expenses.

I have a 5-day window in which I can register my appeal. But I don’t know if they count the days starting from when they snail-mail the notice, or when it arrives in my mailbox. Should it be the latter, I wonder how they know if it’s even shown up yet, since they don’t mail it certified, or hand deliver via courier?

But if I DON’T make an appeal on time, I have something like a week or less before the sheriff and deputies arrive to evict me…who allow me a scant 15 minutes to depart. Were I not so stolid in faith that the Fates are on my side, at this point I’d be a quivering glop of nerves, barely able to tie my shoes, let alone brush my remaining four teeth!

– Zeke K-Holmes

Re: Waiting to hear from my attorney…
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: June 20, 2022 at 10:36 AM

> Don’t forget that today is a holiday. Juneteenth. Official, I’m pretty sure. P.O. here is closed.

Well ain’t THAT a hilarious twist in the plot! Yes, I wasn’t paying attention (I’m frantically preoccupied with my OWN affairs), but just now looked it up: Juneteenth is indeed a federal holiday. That must tan the hide of all those right-wingers out there. GOOD!

So I’ll just have to wait until tomorrow before Ms. Elvensborn gets back to me. Glad you reminded me about this new holiday, I would’ve been biting my nails all day long, waiting on her call or email. Figuratively speaking, that is, as nail biting was my brother’s thing as a kid, not mine. He also sleep-walked.

Hmm, I’ve been wondering how Vance is doing these days, if he’s even still alive. Seeing as he claims to be such a good a friend to LGBTs, yet his political party of choice is out for our blood with a vengeance these days! NOT that I’m ever gonna pick up that phone and call him, or email, or text or whatever. But he told me he does have two gay friends, a married couple. No doubt they’re Republican, as well. But with this drastic turn of events against LGBTs, I’m curious how their relationship with Vance is holding up.

AFAIC all three of ’em should be dunked in a boiling pot of pig fat. But it WOULD be most entertaining to be a fly on the wall of my brother’s home, at this point in time.

– Zeke K-Holmes

P.S.: Holidays are bunching up around the end of June and into early July! Including Gay Pride or whatever it’s now called, I can’t keep up with the changes. Soon enough my OWN birthday, July 1st, will join the party! Seeing as I’m always late to one, that makes perfect sense.

Subject: Another worry bomb tossed my way!
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: June 20, 2022 at 11:57 AM

Just a small one, though, see pic. My phone didn’t even ring, but vibrated to tell me I missed a call, so check my voicemail. But Tracfone said “no new messages.” I then duckduckgo’d “social security (866) 964-5051” to discover that yes indeed it’s the phone number for their office in San Franshitsco. Just for laughs, check out all the bad reviews for them, a far greater percentage than all other categories.

Though to be fair, only 80 total reviews does not a statistic make. For a few moments after receiving that mystery call, a dinky panic alarm went off in my midbrain region (and the amygdala…I believe they work together regarding anxiety bursts):

“Are my Social Security benefits now under threat, from this eviction fiasco? But why so soon?”

Then, a moment or so later, that sudden burst of anxiety subsided into:

“Well, I’ll just inform my attorney about this tomorrow; she should know.”

Then finally deflated to nothing, like a two-week leftover balloon from Mardi Gras, lying shriveled in the gutter:

“Nah, it’s a scam. While the number is correct, I imagine they have a way to pass it through to your message receipt while concealing the REAL number. Social Security never phones you out of the blue, and besides: this is a frikkin federal HOLIDAY…thank you Juneteenth, you’ve just benefited yet another white person of European descent!”

I’m tellin’ ya Wattson, if I ever get a tattoo it’s gonna be this.

– Zeke K-Holmes

Re: Damn, I spelled “flak” wrong!
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: June 20, 2022 at 1:01 PM

> I like a cerulean sky, cottony clouds and orange poppies.

So you like Howard Johnson’s too, I see! I loved it as a kid, beCAUSE of the colors. The food was fun, as well. LOVED those double cheeseburgers with special Ho-Jo sauce, and a double-squirt vanilla soda with a large scoop of buttercrunch ice cream floating atop. DECADENT!

> I’ll just go into suspended animation until it arrives….

That’ll work, too, though because today’s a holiday, you’ll have to hibernate an extra 24 hours before reanimating yourself, Wattson! No way around it, I’m afraid.

Speaking of “flak,” now a DUCK wants in on the action!

Re: Another worry bomb tossed my way!
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: June 20, 2022 at 1:04 PM

> DEFINITELY a scam. SS does not make phone calls!

That’s right, they show up without warning and bang on your door like thunder, then kick it down and arrest you if you didn’t already die from a heart attack!

– Zeke K-Holmes

Re: Another worry bomb tossed my way!
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: June 20, 2022 at 2:05 PM

> No. They come in a hovercraft, lure you with fresh-baked strudel, abduct you and rub you with warm sesame oil, dip your feet in scented water and let tiny fish nibble away your calluses.

So all these years you’ve allowed me to believe you live in Mendocino, when you actually reside in Sweden. I shoulda figured that one out long ago.

– Zeke K-Holmes

Subject: Just got an email from Ms. Elvensborn!
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: June 20, 2022 at 4:41 PM

“Mr Krahlin, I will contact you tomorrow, today is a holiday at BALA. Thank you.”


Re: Thanks
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: Lenora Rausch
Bcc: My Dear Wattson
Date: June 21, 2022 at 9:26 AM

On 2022-06-21 08:58, Lenora Rausch wrote:

> Always enjoy your commentary and ability to get under the skins of many of the nutcase righties that inhabit the list. I’m done with the list, life is too short to deal with the likes of Schultz, Seward and Stanton. I cannot let them drag me down.

I understand, and thank you for your kind words, Lenora! I consider confronting these troglodytes as grist for my activist mill, sharpening my wits for greater conflicts to come, outside of cyberspace. It’s also very cathartic for me to do so. I have had to deal with such ugly people since day 1 of my getting on the Internet, starting with Usenet. There is no safe harbor for LGBTs in these horrendous times.

– Zeke

Texting with Wattson: 6/20/22-6/21/22

Pic 1

Pic 2

Subject: My attorney just emailed me…
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: June 21, 2022 at 1:27 PM

…about ten minutes ago, with one question:

“Did you get any other papers besides these two pages?”

She’s referring to the Unlawful Detainer, which contains three pages, the last one I thought irrelevant, so I only sent her pages 1 and 2. So I replied:

“Just this one.” And sent off page 3, which you can also look at now.

Click here for a larger view.

Subject: I just got off the phone with my attorney…
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: June 21, 2022 at 4:41 PM

…and here is what she said, in my OWN words, so they won’t be as well stated as they’d be coming from her own voice:

Ms. Elvensborn attempted to contact Ablahblah’s attorney, but he never called her back, and just proceeded with mailing me that Unlawful Detainer.

Normally, when they mail you an Unlawful Detainer, they also enclose the Court Summons…but in my case, they did not. They could CLAIM they did, but then fraud charges could be brought against them.

[I don’t know WHY they don’t use certified mail to cover their own asses; be that as it may, let me continue:]

So I may or may not receive the summons some time between tomorrow and whenever. And it WILL be delivered by hand, possibly by Ablahblah Realty’s attorney, or by some assigned courier…but definitely NOT by the landlord or the building manager.

[I get goosebumps just thinking about it: who WILL deliver the summons unto my trembling hand? Will he be a hottie, like Officer Ibarra?]

But if I don’t receive a summons by Monday, I should let Ms. Elvensborn know, and she will proceed preparing my defense just in case, to be one or two steps ahead. She assured me NO sheriff will show up out of the blue to kick me out…and that
5-day window where I can make an appeal doesn’t begin until the day AFTER I receive that summons, if it happens at all. But here’s the kicker:

Ablahblah’s relationship with this attorney is not your normal landlord/lawyer arrangement…and that this particular attorney who is attempting to sue me, recently had his license to practice law REVOKED, he’s been DISBARRED for awhile! The moment she said that, I cracked up, and she flung me a chuckle in return.

She then asked if I understand it all, and if I have any questions. So I said I find it peculiar that I have never been shown any REAL evidence of a dog bite…they just went ahead with a 30-day notice. She said she will be looking into that, soon, as well.

I told her thank you immensely for the update, and then continued to watch “Downton Abbey: A New Era” for a few more minutes before typing this missive to you, good physician. Delightful movie BTW, you MUST see it, dahling, while enjoying a cuppa tea and a crumpet!


It’s a ruse by my bodhisattva guardians, after all is said and done. Having fun at my expense, and I’m sure Ms. Elvensborn is in on it. As are Deek, the building manager, Ablahblah Realty and Coyote the Trickster only knows WHO else! They all wanna be in my book.

– Zeke K-Holmes

Subject: A quick update from my attorney, via email:
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: June 21, 2022 at 4:55 PM

Here’s what she wrote:

“The landlord has to personally serve you with the attached summons and complaint and then the 5 court days will start to tick to respond.”

And my reply:

“Interesting. Years ago I assisted Ablahblah Realty in evicting someone who was a REAL nuisance, and he had to show up in court where I was the main witness. I’ve also gotten some dangerous people removed, too, when whomever was manager at the time kept looking the other way…by my informing the landlord via certified mail. I have quite a history with this building I call Hotel California North! Thanks for the update!”

– Zeke K-Holmes

Re: [MCN-Discussion]- MSNBC Analyst Was “Disturbed” When She Saw American Flags On Pickup Trucks
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: Mel Porter
Bcc: My Dear Wattson
Date: June 21, 2022 at 10:06 PM

Wow, you’re right. I’ll see if the police will bother to act on this…though his identity is well concealed, they may not bother, ’cause can’t trace the message’s real origin. I’d like to report this to law enforcement in his region…would that be Ft. Bragg? Can you give me an email for them, or whatever other legal entity or entities you’d think best…like something on a county level?

Also, since I only get the list digest, I don’t have the header info that one can only get via his specific email. If you know how to do that, can you forward the message to me? You need to “show source,” or “show original” or “show header” via your email client, then copy it and send it off to me. Thanks!

What the FUCK is wrong with MCN admin?

On 2022-06-21 21:38, Mel Porter wrote:

Zeke, I think this is worth a police report. Let them sort it out.

FROM: <> on behalf of Spike Dewars
DATE: Tuesday, June 21, 2022 at 9:27 PM
TO: A Community List for Discussion
SUBJECT: Re: [MCN-Discussion]- MSNBC Analyst Was "Disturbed" When She Saw American Flags On Pickup Trucks

And when civil war does come, 

I'll drag you out to the middle of Market St and slam a bullet in the back of your skull as a "parasite of the people", then leave you there for the dogs.

Re: [MCN-Discussion]- MSNBC Analyst Was “Disturbed” When She Saw American Flags On Pickup Trucks
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: Mel Porter
Date: June 21, 2022 at 10:14 PM

Also, this is not a personal clash, as Tanya Merang so absurdly claims. IOW, others on this list should ALSO report him to the local law enforcement. What would stop them from doing this, unless they are homophobic themselves? Or live in fear of that lunatic?

Re: [MCN-Discussion]- MSNBC Analyst Was “Disturbed” When She Saw American Flags On Pickup Trucks
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: Calvin Hope
Date: June 21, 2022 at 10:47 PM

Law enforcement probably won’t act on it, because of the stipulation “IF there’s a civil war.” Which is not considered a real threat, but a speculative one. Mr. Dewars knows how to push the envelope right to the very limit. I’m not worried, though, he’ll get his comeuppance soon enough.

However, there is nothing stopping other subscribers from reporting this to the sheriff up there. Just because he’s directed his threats to me, does not mean it isn’t anyone else’s business, because it IS in the public venue.

– Zeke

P.S.: Can you BELIEVE all the shit I’m going through these days? I had a GREAT conversation with my attorney today. She did her homework, to discover my landlord’s attorney has a history of corruption, and has been disbarred like a decade ago, for about a year. Here are some links…and oh, their attorney is a woman, though I assumed a man all along, because her name is gender neutral. She has one review on this page, just one star, and it says:

“Sleaze ball who was disbarred at least once, reprimanded by the bar at least twice. Very unprofessional.”

Subject: Since the landlord of my building must hand deliver the summons…
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: June 22, 2022 at 9:44 AM

…and since I learned a few days ago from Charlie (that friendly clerk at Rosenberg’s) a few days ago that “Ablahblah” is a Palestinian family name:

I will be wearing my Palestinian covid mask when he knocks on my door. And maybe even a “Free Palestine” bumper sticker taped to that same door, which I can order from Amazon.

Though it likely won’t be delivered on time to achieve the desired effect.

Just a fun thought to start my morning right. Thank GOD yesterday’s heat wave is over…93 fukkin degrees! My room was like a sauna late into the night, and the radiator was HOT for a short while around 11 PM. Jeez!

– Zeke K-Holmes

Re: Since the landlord of my building must hand deliver the summons…
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: June 22, 2022 at 12:43 PM

> Give me a simple, boiled down summary. “Busy” isn’t exactly the right word; more like desperately scrambling. Not just with work, but with stuff like plumbing breakdown (fixing it ourselves because calling a plumber is prohibitively expensive), ongoing dilemma of Van’s wife, and more…

WOW, unbelievable what you’re going through, Wattson! Anyway, it’s already a boiled down summary, takes but three minutes to read. Here ’tis, again:

[Dear Readers: removed because conversation w/attorney already posted above.]

Subject: I just ordered the Free Palestine bumper sticker…
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: June 22, 2022 at 1:40 PM

…but item’s arrival isn’t until June 9th. However, orders often show up earlier than the date originally specified. Now, for this Deek-and-pups update:

What he did to the doggies two nights ago was heartbreaking…he pulled on their necks really hard to get them back into the ATM alcove, even though I was about to gently lift each dog back to their spot beside their master. They were eager to see me, so stepped around the shopping cart where I could hug and kiss them, which I guess made Deek jealous.

“No, stop that, Deek!” I admonished when he pulled firmly on Flaco’s neck, then Lucky’s, forcing them against their will. “You’re hurting them!”

“No I’m not,” he replied. “I know how to raise dogs.”

“I don’t think so, Deek,” I retorted. “If you knew how to raise dogs you wouldn’t yank on their necks!”

By then, the dogs were seated behind him, and he said, “Alright, alright.”

I was surprised he didn’t start his usual scream fest, but actually listened to me and responded in a calm fashion (albeit a poor excuse for such mistreatment…in fact there is NO excuse whatsoever for his crude action).

I then told him how much I like the dragon hat, but I’m not wearing it right now because I just washed it, and it’s hanging up to dry. After bringing his devices upstairs to recharge them, I brought water down for the pups, and addressed him once more:

“You could break their necks when you jerk their leashes like that. Or cause serious injuy by keeping that up, day in, day out. Why on earth would you even DO that to these sweet little doggies who have nothing but love for you? That is WICKED, shameful and disgusting! It makes you a MONSTER.”

Again, I expected Deek to start screeching like a wraith, but he did not. Instead, he remained silent.

In spite of the many GOOD things going on in my life, not the least of which are Deek’s overall improvements in many ways (including how he treats the pups better, for the most part), this ongoing abuse on their necks wipes out ANY respect I may have had for his impressive progress! I’m tellin’ ya, Wattson:

If the time should come where I COULD abduct Lucky & Flaco from his clutches and get away with it, I’d do it in a pinch and never look back. I have this image in my mind’s eye of becoming a celebrated activist with endless bodyguards and other admirers…some of whom would understand my situation with Deek’s hounds, and wrest them from Deek’s possession and bring them to me!

Of course, I’d need to be residing in a NEW location to pull this off…preferrably a dwelling with a fenced-in backyard. And Deek would have the fear of Cthulhu driven into his heart, where he dare not attempt in any way conceivable, to report the abduction to the police, or in any other way attempt to get them back. In fact, it would be perfectly fine with me if my protectors abducted HIM as well, and dumped him somewhere out in the boondocks, in some far-flung location hundreds of miles away from here, and never be allowed to return to San Francisco, or come anywhere within five miles of my presence. In short:

NOTHING Deek does to improve his behavior, his situation and/or continues to treat the dogs with greater respect and care, his refusal to stop yanking on their necks ERASES whatever appreciation and kind regard I hold for him. That is just too abominable a behavior to excuse for ANY reason.

Meanwhile, I have NO choice but to continue to feign amicable relations with him, in order to keep the brindlekin in my world.

Now, last night when he showed up he remained non-antagonistic, and showed kindness to the pooches in various ways. One of which was to lay out a large beach blanket by the bus stop, where they could rest without lying down directly on the dirty sidewalk. It was a hot day yesterday and into the night, so I moistened four microfiber rags and placed two on each doggy, that they be cooled down.

But Deek opposed me: “What are you doing? It’s not that warm anymore!”

“Yes it is,” I replied. “They have fur on them, you don’t. They LOVE when I do this on hot days when they’re visiting me. So long as the rags don’t drip, they’re not scared of the water.”

(I believe I told you some time ago, Wattson, that the mutts totally FREAK OUT over any water that wobbles, drips, sprays or splashes. So the best way to cool them down is to apply drenched cloth that has been slightly wringed out so it doesn’t drip, then rub it all over them to get their fur almost sopping wet.)

Even though the hounds seemed pleased with the damp, makeshift cloaks–and didn’t shake them off–Deek removed the rags and tossed them into his cart. But several minutes later after I returned hovel, I peered out the window to see he had draped the wet squares back onto his furry charges.

When it came time for me to return his gizmos, I told him:

“Someone gave me a bag of doggy treats two days ago. Would you like to have them?”

He said okay, so I brought down that two-pound sack of chicken-applesauce chews which I had purchased two months ago, and which the dogs go nuts over. It was barely a quarter full at this point. I extracted a wedge from the bag and placed it in my pocket before bringing it downstairs. (Each wedge is a large size, BTW, about four inches long and two at the widest…and soft enough to pull apart into smaller portions.)

“Here ya go,” I said as I handed it over…then approached the sweeties, knelt down and fed them that single wedge in eight separate pieces. Once done, they both searched around my knees to see if any more lay around.

I pet the dogs once more, then stood up, wished Deek an excellent rest-of-the-evening, and headed back upstairs to my overheated monk’s cell of an abode, and former sanctuary for two, beloved quadrupeds. In sum:

Deek has been sensibly no-drama for the past two weeks…and joking more. For example, yesterday when he requested a ginger ale after I brought the doggies water, and I returned with his drink a minute later, he snarked:

“My god, it’s about time you got back!”

Remember, it was a very hot day, and I’ve already climbed up and down the stairs for him several times.

“Oh C’mon,” I replied in exasperation. “I was only gone…”

But then I stopped, realizing he was just being silly…and chuckled:

“Ha-ha, you so funny!”

– Zeke K-Holmes

Re: [MCN-Discussion]- MSNBC Analyst Was “Disturbed” When She Saw American Flags On Pickup Trucks
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: Calvin Hope
Date: June 22, 2022 at 5:49 PM

> Invitation to new and more complex drama. Be certain of his background before you put up or wear anything. Even then, your involvement in his private life as a Palestinian, IF that is true, may very well not be welcome and can easily be misinterpreted. These people have been through unimaginable hell, as I think you know. Little games are not appreciated.
> Let your yay be yay and your nay be nay, for all else comes of evil.

You know what, Calvin? EXCELLENT advice when I think about it. I just canceled my order. Thanks!

– Zeke

Re: [MCN-Discussion]- MSNBC Analyst Was “Disturbed” When She Saw American Flags On Pickup Trucks
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: Calvin Hope
Date: June 22, 2022 at 6:49 PM

On 2022-06-22 18:18, calvin hope wrote:

> All cool, man. He’s learning the ways of American business. You’re helping him get it.

Ha ha, Ablahblah Realty has been around for DECADES, soaking up properties along the West Coast like soda from a straw! FYI here’s a letter posted to every resident’s door (except the manager’s) offering to start a tenants union for this building due to serious grievances against the resident manager. You’ll have to enlarge it on your screen, to read its contents. It’s not dated, but the letter was posted to my door around seven months ago.

It’s redacted for public consumption on my blog. Ironically, the fellow lives right next door to me, but we never talk. I did not bother to join the group, as I don’t do Facebook anymore, and I suspect ONE of his complaints may be about the homeless who often sleep around our building…and thus may blame me for attracting them here. Which I do NOT, it is just an ideal location for the Castro homeless, due to the bus stop, the wide open corner, the heavy foot traffic coming out of bars and clubs, the ATM alcove providing shelter and light almost below my window, and the tacky smoke shop (that also sells gross, huge, veiny dildos on display to all who pass by) right beside it, which stays open till three AM and attracts all sorts of slimy night life, most of them housed…who park their cars right out front and congregate while gangsta rap music booms from their vehicles’ speakers.

BTW, one of the problems with our building manager is he’s turning SENILE, with that signature erratic behavior including sudden bursts of anger. Last two years he shuffles about with a bent back and lowered head.

What a circus! Alcoholics, meth freaks, wealthy spoiled gay brats and vagrants. They make my homeless friend, Deek, look like an angel!

– Zeke

Re: [MCN-Discussion]- MSNBC Analyst Was “Disturbed” When She Saw American Flags On Pickup Trucks
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: Calvin Hope
Date: June 22, 2022 at 7:45 PM

On 2022-06-22 19:18, calvin hope wrote:

> Very interesting. Undeniably complex.

OMG yes.

> I’d want to know what has become of the “tenants group” without letting anyone know I’m looking.

Their Facebook page doesn’t exist anymore. I don’t think it ever went anywhere.

> I’d see if it’s possible to develop a trust with one of the other tenants who might fill me in.

NOT worth the trouble, high risk involved. I’m just an old fag with most of my teeth missing, living on a small stipend with rent control keeping my rent low, while most everyone else living there pays through the nose. IOW:

I’m like the old witch in the forest living on the edge of the village, that everyone’s afraid of, mostly because of unkind gossip. I even now have a mole growing from the side of my nose…ha, ha, just kidding.

> Is it possible the person who started this is in cahoots with the building owner?

YES! No question at this point…which is discussed in one of my presently unpublished chapters. Fascinating, how he thought he could trip me up, and now avoids me like the plague…and all I was was nice to him that day he approached me and asked a few pointed questions.

> The manager’s decline may have to do with the stress he’s under trying to be the middle man between the tenants and the owner.

That’s ALWAYS a building manager’s burden. But our present manager is too OLD to deal with it any more, and it’s causing disruption and anger among the chattel.

> I’ll bet the owner is one tough guy and may be mistakenly applying techniques he used against the Israelis against the tenants.

I don’t think so. They HAVE done some nice things for their occupants now and then, including for yours truly. When I lost my last job I’ve ever had (well, I actually walked out) and had to go on welfare as a prelude to collecting SSI, one of the forms I had to fill out required the landlord’s signed permission to allow me to stay, even though the gov’t could easily cover my rent. I was sweating beads for a few weeks until they said okay. They could’ve easily kicked me out. So it’s a mixed bag.

> For sure, he wants more money out of the building. That you can be certain of. The rest is speculative without more data. Do any of the people invested in that real estate company come around? Often? At all?

No, not at all! Last time the owner showed up was about 21 years ago, and that was just to accompanying the building inspector regarding smoke alarms and sprinkler system.

> Always know it’s not personal even if it feels that way. They just want to make more money out of that building and are trying various techniques to do that, basically to make it uncomfortable for the tenants paying the least, so they can get their rent roll evened up to the people playing the most.

Well, to the best of my knowledge, they have never harassed long term residents, including the elderly. It is usually the building manager and his nasty attitude that causes problems.

> To evaluate that, try to find out what the new tenants are paying and compare that to what long time tenants like yourself are paying.

I already know…it’s a GINORMOUS gap. I’m paying $302/month for a single room…which rooms now go for around $1,200. My rent would’ve gone up around 2 percent a year under rent control, but I and 12 other people won a lawsuit against them almost 14 years ago, and part of the settlement was never to increase my rent, so long as I choose to remain here. Were that not the case, my monthly rent by now would be around $372.

> There are also legal zoning code games that can be played, ie changing the building from a residential hotel to an apartment or the reverse that require a certain number of tenants to agree with the change or to leave. It’s all about the moolah.

I am surprised this building hasn’t gone up in flames or been resold and knocked down and replaced by a more modern apt. building years ago! It even survived the 1906 earthquake. I’ve been living in my monk’s cell since January 1, 1984! I’ll probably die here, and become just another ghost haunting the premises of what I like to call “Hotel California North.” Hmm, that might not be such a bad outcome when you consider there are WORSE places for a phantom to spend eternity. Like the Trump Towers.

– Zeke

Re: [MCN-Discussion]- MSNBC Analyst Was “Disturbed” When She Saw American Flags On Pickup Trucks
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: Calvin Hope
Date: June 22, 2022 at 9:40 PM

On 2022-06-22 21:12, calvin hope wrote:

> I get the feeling that you are aware of the moving parts and how they work. That’s all anyone can be.

Pretty much.

> Good job with staying there and keeping your rent low.

I got sick and tired of having to move every year or two, because even housemates I got along with wanted to move to another city. So I decided to put an end to that by living alone. So I rented a room in this building, where a good friend of mine was already residing, and he recommended me to the manager. I never expected to be here anywhere near this long, but rents started to skyrocket, then rent control was enacted, and here I am after all these years! Just wish I had rented a studio instead, before rent control kicked in. But I didn’t have a crystal ball.

> That’s quite extraordinary actually.

I never planned it that way, Calvin…which makes it that much more hilarious.

> Underneath the drama, I think they like you.

Oh I know they do…they just have a weird way of expressing their fondness. They are my bodhisattva guardians playing my enemies, to set me up to become the hero in this real-life play. IOW they’re PUNKING me! I’ve gotten plenty of clues that’s what’s REALLY going on. Everyone in this building is saying nice hellos to me, even calling me “dear” and “sweetheart,” since the eviction threat began. Even the manager gives me a friendly hello, as I pass by and greet him kindly in return. Though we can’t actually talk to each other because of this legal process.

THEY’RE ALL IN ON IT, Calvin…including my attorney and Ablahblah Realty. Something’s gonna give, and I suspect a big celebration during LGBT Pride Week, in my honor for my many years’ dedication towards our homeless.

> You have a place to live. It sounds as if they are more content with the status quo than with the unknown risks of change. Capitalists dislike change.

Not only do I have a place to live, but I suspect I shall SOON have a bona fide HOME to live in, with a lovely backyard for the doggies…gratis the LGBT family.

> Are you suing someone? I feel that I should know but what is the nature of your lawsuit?

No, that’s not in the cards, but maybe later on down the line, if my attorney thinks I have a case worth pursuing. But that’s not on the top of the list, as what’s TRULY important to me is that I keep a roof over my head with very low rent, so I can continue helping Deek and the pups with dog food, leashes, and a weekly allowance for him…which is $100 broken into two $50 payments, one on Sunday, another on Thursday.

But if what I suspect is about to come true, not only will *I* have a free home, so will Deek and the dogs.

And that’s what my latest tales are all about; I’m documenting EVERYthing that’s going on in my life because it’s so damn intriguing and a BRILLIANT plot that is not my own creation by any means.

Have a glorious night, Calvin, you and your furry pals.

– Zeke

Re: [MCN-Announce]- An opinion piece from a vaccinated Australian writer:
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: Calvin Hope
Date: June 22, 2022 at 10:09 PM

Wow! Thank you for your honest take on the matter, as it affected you personally. SO sorry you caught that horrid virus and suffered for it…but I am SO glad you’ve pulled through, and are still here with us, on this troubled, wobbly planet, Calvin. And yes, of course I’ll keep such a sensitive revelation to myself, with much gratitude that you opened up to me on this issue. Sleep well, my brother, MUCH better days are ahead, shortly. Humanity IS awakening, and for some totally strange but marvelous reason beyond my comprehension, I shall soon play a MAJOR role in this awesome-beyond-words transformation. I can only imagine how Fox News will treat me!

On 2022-06-22 21:36, calvin hope wrote:

I don't give two figs about this argument. As an unvaccinated person who got covid, I know how devastating it was and still is, although I'm covid negative for over three weeks now. It's interesting that no one in any of the hospitals dissed me for my status. Each of the four had an intake interview with THE VACCINE QUESTION but no one except the last said or did anything other than make a note of my status.

I don't know what any of that means. After Stanford was indifferent, I relaxed when I knew the question was coming. I was very open that I'd listened to bad advice and wished many times I was vaccinated but that had more to do with my personal reluctance to offend than any argument pro or con.

Fortunately, as I say, for me, it didn't seem to make a difference, especially with the top end places with the best doctors. I've been in 4 hospitals this year and only noticed a problem at the lowest quality hospital, the local one where I live. I was there last, so I had regained some sense of myself and wasn't that fazed by their bad attitude.

None of this do I consider a polemic one way or the other. I'm not vaccinated, have had covid very harsh and wish I had been vaccinated. That's all. It's between us. Not looking for publicity. Just musing over what my life has been this last year.

I do know now that covid is closely connected to pneumonia. In fact, one of my prime docs simply calls it covid pneumonia. Interesting. I think lungs are very delicate and super important. I seem to be having more trouble with my lungs in recovery than with my heart.

Re: [MCN-Announce]- An opinion piece from a vaccinated Australian writer:
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: Calvin Hope
Date: June 22, 2022 at 10:52 PM

On 2022-06-22 22:27, calvin hope wrote:

> Very thoughtful and kind. Thank you, Zeke!

‘Tis a great pleasure and an honor!

> Sweet dreams to you tonight, too.

I sure hope so, after that heat wave that dragged into the night. I’m still a bit heat sick and feel crappy, but the cool, ocean air is a healing welcome. Deek and pups are asleep outside by the bus stop in front of my building. When he sleeps, nothing can wake him. I took a blanket out of his shopping cart, and laid it down right next to him, so the dogs could enjoy some comfort and warmth. They are now happily bundled up with their little noses poking out.

> I, too, sense that a large change for the better is on its way.

I am not an island unto myself…the extraordinary events swirling about me these days are a part of a much bigger phenomenon. I am but riding the crest of the wave. Many others will soon catch up, and I’m sure that includes you. Our planet is being reborn as we speak. Trumpism will very soon be washed down the drain, along with all other fascist jerkwads and movements. This is gonna be amazing!

– Zeke

The Eviction Fiasco (part 10)

June 19, 2022

[BRINDLEKIN TALES – Book 6: Chapter 1]

Subject: Above and Beyond the Call of Duty
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: June 18, 2022 at 12:44 AM

Just this morning when I stepped out for my java break, there was Shorty (Deek’s ex-girlfriend, or so he claims) sitting on her haunches by the bus stop, and munching on a smallish loaf of fluffy dessert bread chock full of plump, juicy blueberries! It was like a ginormous muffin, chunks of which she picked out with her fingers and placed in her mouth, one by one. So I turned to her and said:

“Hello Shorty, nice morning isn’t it?”

She looked up at me for a flash, nodded her head in agreement without pausing in relishing that succulent street score. I bent over to take a closer look:

“BLUEberries, my all-time favorite!”

She did NOT respond, but continued diving in to her blueberry cloud…and who could blame her? I, for one, was HAPPY that such simple enjoyment was hers on this lovely morning. And then I blurted:

“You look very SHARP today, the way you’re dressed…great outfit! Nice haircut, too.”

“Thank you,” she replied in her usual, raspy voice without a pause from noshing.

Not wishing to disturb her taste-bud reverie any further, I said it’s good to see her again, wished her a wonderful day, and departed. But no more than a few steps later, I decided to say something else that would bring her cheer, so approached her once more, to declare:

“I saw you and a friend behind my building two days ago, cleaning up after Deek!”

She nodded again while still focused on her berry-cake delight, and I tossed her this compliment with a wink and a smile:

“That was above and beyond the call of duty!”

“Thank you,” she replied once again.

I decided some minutes after returning hovel, to step back out and take the following snapshot:

Click here for a larger view.

You can see that Shorty is neatly attired and sports a spiffy crew cut these days. And from her earlobes dangled a pair of petite gold earrings that shimmered in the sunlight flickering beneath the breeze-kissed leaves. Can’t show you her face, as I don’t want to offend or frighten her by taking a photo without permission. Suffice it to say she has a fresh, pixiesh visage with silver-cerulean eyes. If only her teeth were not so decayed, she’d look fabulous from head to toe!

Enlarge that image and you’ll see the b&w design on her hoodie depicting the word “MONEY,” a few dollar signs, and what appears to be a movie reel. I have NO idea what that’s all about, but it is what it is.

Now, another pic showing her at rest an hour later:

Click here for a larger view.

I was glad to see she had additional tasty vittles awaiting her next repast: a quart-size container of pineapple chunks and what looked to me like a big, fat empanada, or something similar. Other fresh comestibles lied strewn about her slumbering form, but I wasn’t ABOUT to take a closer look, out of respect for her personal space, as tenuous as that is.

Now here’s a snapshot from my hallway window, of just SOME of the junk Deek left behind Wednesday, on my building’s 16th Street side:

Click here for a larger view.

It’s mostly twenty or so small tubes of artist’s paint, that Deek used to spot up his baggy denim pants. I guess my trickster thinks he’s a bird of paradise, or trying to pass himself OFF as one! In addition to the tubes, he left OTHER assorted debris strewn about, including old clothing, hard-plastic paraphernalia, a broken, brown-leather and plumped-up office chair and small, lumpy bags filled with god only knows what!

But about two hours later–to both my surprise and delight–I saw Shorty and another drifter cleaning up the entire mess! Here’s a snapshot showing them still active at their self-assigned chore, but almost done:

Click here for a larger view.

Now let’s rewind to around 7:45 AM that same day:

I had just arisen from my cart (oops, I meant to type “cot,” I’m NOT homeless yet!) to begin another day, when I heard Flaco’s distinctive barks outside…just several, and no more. From my window I espied Deek seated at the bus stop, his two pups (of course, and may that always be so), and another transient seated alongside them. It was a friendly gathering, and hushed. Since the pandemic fiasco took off, Market Street in the early morning is often so quiet you could hear a rubber dildo keychain-bauble drop.

“That’s nice,” I thought, “Deek’s showing enough consideration to wait until 10 AM, or until he sees the curtains pulled back. I think I’ll step out now to surprise him.”

My decision to allow the disruption of my early morning hours comes from the heart, in light of Deek’s new burden of having the doggies foisted upon him 24/7, rather than my providing them with healing sanctuary on a frequent basis, as I’ve been doing for more than a year and a half. Until the Ogre Manager and one of his Nasty Minions decided to toss a monkey wrench into the works, possibly costing the dogs their good health and spirits, and maybe even their very lives, in the long run!

“Oh, hey,” he turned to me upon my unexpected appearance, “I hope Flaco didn’t wake you up!”

“No she didn’t,” I said. “I heard her bark, but I was already up.”

I then handed him the usual plastic grocery bag to deposit his electronics, and while he rummaged through his cart I greeted the hounds with loving hugs and kisses. When I finally stood up to reclaim the bag, his companion had left his seat to stretch nearby. He’s around 32, skinny and dressed in a raucously hued tie-dye shirt, a pair of faded jeans a size too large but held up by a cheap belt, and a pair of floppy Converse sneakers THREE sizes too large. His hair was a bright, artificial shade of reddish orange.

He winked at me then, and flashed a broad smile, exposing a horrid set of badly stained teeth, with one missing here, two missing there, and two or three MORE missing from various OTHER gum locations. His upper front ivories were SHOVEL teeth…pointing down proudly over the entryway to a deep, dark caven. Like my OWN single remaining incisor.

“He sure looks HOT with his shirt off!” he confided to me in an embarrassingly strident timbre and bright, glassy eyes. “I’ve seen a LOT of dudes his age naked, and I’m tellin’ ya NONE of ’em look NOWHERE near good as Deek!”

Needless to say, Wattson, I was DESperately eager to get the fuk outta there at that point, but I DID notice Deek’s bare chest suddenly puff up in pride.

“Ya gotta be kiddin’ me,” I thought. “He’s nothing special in the looks department. But who am I to judge, as it appears that Red-Head here may have finally gotten me off the hook with Deek’s periodic attempts to cajole me to take him upstairs for a few minutes of ‘manly’ relief, much to my alarm and disgust!”

“Uh, I suppose so,” I replied with a wan smile, then scurried on back hovel with gizmos in hand.

Some minutes later a patrol car pulled up alongside the bus stop, until Deek and gang (by this time two more vagrants had joined him) got the hint and migrated around the corner on 16th Street.

Some time later, after I ate breakfast and got some more writing under my belt, I realized the pups probably would appreciate a couple bowls of water, so I brought it downstairs where Deek and hounds were camped out behind my building. By now his companions had departed, and Deek was busy dotting up his dungarees with colorful splotches of paint. Open tubes were scattered all over the place, while Lucky was comfortably resting upon the cushioned back of that broken chair (because it lay askew on the sidewalk with the seat now vertical), and Flaco was walking around the shopping cart further up the hill, sniffing about.

It was then I noticed she had a wide stripe of iridescent gold across her right side from haunch to shoulder…not opaque, but a ghostly overlay that actually heightened the beauty of her brindle fur. As if someone had painted it with a broad brush. Then I put two and two together, with a jolt:

“Deek, she has that paint on her, you need to wash it off!”

“Do I?” he mused. “It’s not permanent.”

“I don’t know about that,” I warned, then picked up a tube to see if it were oil based, acrylic, or watercolor…but I could NOT read the tiny print without my glasses. So I threw down the tube and told him:

“It doesn’t matter, Deek. The ingredients could be poisonous for dogs, so you don’t want her licking on it.”

“Well, I don’t know how it got on her,” he softly replied with a subtle grin. “It’s not my fault.”

“Yes it is,” I admonished. “You have all these open tubes lying around, with splotches of paint on the sidewalk. It’s YOU’RE responsiblity to keep the dogs from lying down on that crap.”

He didn’t respond, but continued decorating his jeans, so I pushed further:

“THAT is why you should always provide cardboard for them to rest on, instead of the dirty sidewalk, Deek! They could pick up germs and get sick or infected, or gum get stuck in their fur, and if they chew it off they could CHOKE to death! Or some kind of toxic liquid or sludge!”

“But I don’t HAVE any water to clean it off,” he nonchalantly retorted, “so I guess YOU gotta take care of it.”

“Right,” I sighed while examining Lucky to see if he, too, were likewise colorized. He wasn’t.

I returned a few minutes later with a large bowl of water and four microfiber rags and began wiping the gold paint from Flaco’s side. Fortunately, it washed off after five minutes or so, withOUT any soap, and she was very patient and happy to receive my gentle touch and kind words. And I enjoyed giving her many hugs in the process. Later that day it hit me:

She didn’t “accidentally” lie down on the paint, otherwise she’d have SPLOCTHES here and there, not a lovely stripe so artfully brushed across her fur! Deek did it INTENTIONALLY. “I don’t know how it got on her,” my ass!

More of Deek’s screechings occurred yesterday afternoon, but it didn’t go on long, nor was it as loud as previous times. Plus, he was surrounded by three street comrades there by the bus stop…unusual, because he’d always made it a point, previously, to only scream at me when no one else was around.

“I’m sick of your jaberring nonsense,” he screehed as I approached him upon exiting the front gate. “You never have anything to say, it’s just yammer yammer yammer!”

I calmly stopped before him, with his buddies seated between us, and calmly replied:

“I never say anything to you that isn’t important, Deek. And besides, ALL your friends know about your temper tantrums and are sick of it.”

“Oh they do, do they,” he snarked back. “I suppose I need to take medication to help me cope? Do you have a doctor to recommend?”

“Cut it out, Deek,” I countered. “You’re actually doing GREAT, I just want you to stop having anxiety attacks around my building, if you don’t mind.”

I had to walk by him and his gaggle several times, on my errands, seeing as they were parked right out front. The seond time I stepped out and walked in his direction, I intended to just pass by without speaking to him, as I was just going to the corner shop two blocks up Noe. But he wouldn’t have it, instead he smiled up at me from where he sat:

“So ya gonna go shopping right now?”

“Look Deek,” I retorted, “I have a life outside of you, I didn’t come out here to have another argument. I feel like you’re SPYING on me.”

He just tilted himself further back, with palms pressed behind him on the concrete, for support:

“Well, I just wanna know because I’m planning to pick up my devices soon!”

I then stood there looking up at the sky to think, then told him: “I’ll be back in ten minutes or so, you can wait THAT long.”

The FOURTH time I had to stroll by Deek and pals, he called to me as I attempted to elude his attention, but failed:

“You know I’m just fukkin with ya, right?”

I turned to him and agreed:

“Yes, Deek, and you’re very GOOD at it. Now let me go around the corner to sit on the bench, enjoy the warm sun and cool breezes, and my break from writing, please!”

So I’d say it’s a good report on Deek’s latest behavior. It’s just HEARTbreaking to see the pups for barely a minute, each time they’re out there…even though their master may be camped out by the ATMs or the bus stop or behind the building for HOURS. Imagine that: they’re often RIGHT BELOW MY WINDOW and I can’t hang out with them! Just earlier this evening, Deek and hounds dropped by, and as soon as I reached out to pet them both, Lucky rolled over on his back and started to squirm and twitch all over the sidewalk, with tongue hanging out from the brightest doggy smile I’ve ever seen! His amazing way of saying just how HAPPY he is to see me again! And Flaco, in her usual, infinitely sincere style, pressed herself firmly against my legs as I stroked her lovely golden fur and she reached out to touch my lowered face with a dainty paw.

They want so BADLY to visit me, they are always overjoyed whenever I appear in their world, but sad and disappointed that my appearances are brief. Part of the problem is that their owner won’t ALLOW me to spend a little more time with them. But I guess it’s better that way, as they need to remain accustomed to being stuck outside 24/7 until that extraordinary breakthrough occurs any day now, and the world will be my tofu oyster.

NOW, TO WRAP THINGS UP (7 vignettes):

That fellow with orange-red hair who’s been hangin’ with Deek lately, and helps watch over the mutts, is called (appropriately enough) “Red.” And I believe he’s the one dressed in drag last Monday, zoned out near Deek behind my building, and wearing a large floppy hat and pink gown.

Two days ago I attempted to retrieve two, large discarded hoodies resting on the trash bin out front…the start of my collecting warm clothing to provide blankets for the pups, for when the nights are cold. The idea is to stash a large supply of such items, since Deek repeatedly fails to gather these provisions himself, to keep the dogs warm. I figure come next winter, I’ll be better prepared, especially since their master keeps LOSING stuff, and I may need to replace them every few days, or even sooner!

I saw them on my way back from Rosenberg’s, checked ’em out to discover they were weighty, warm and clean…so I rushed upstairs to procure a trash bag, so I wouldn’t risk bugs infesting my room, and I can launder them in due time. But once I stepped back outside, some elderly homeless lady was standing by the bin and looking them over!

“Drat!” I thought. “I was only gone less than a minute and THIS happens!”

I decided to stand around from a distance of twenty feet, acting like I’m waiting for an Uber, though actually hoping she’d lose interest and move on, so I could claim the hoodies. But no, she took her sweet time checking each one over…first she’d toss one into her cart, then yank it back out…then the other one, then yank it out, too…then take BOTH, then change her mind and place them back on the trash bin…and right when it looked like she didn’t want either one and began pushing her cart towards Noe Street, she suddenly turned about and snatched them up! Meanwhile, my coffee I left upstairs had grown cold by this time…perhaps even moldy.

Ironically, about a half hour later when I peered out the hallway window to see if Deek were still parked behind my building I saw that yes indeed he was…and guess who was with him, chatting away? That same old lady who still had the hoodies in her cart! Can’t win for losing.

Last night around 11:30 PM when I had stepped out for a few minutes to enjoy the chill, night air, a patrol car followed by an ambulance had rolled up in front of my building with sirens wailing and cops jumping out of their vehicle to reach the front gate. I ran up to them and said I live here, I’ll let you in. Turned out that, once again, they were here for my Bohemian neighbor, Karlsen, as they asked if I’m the one who called from 207. I told them no, but I know who he is.

Once I swung the gate open and the officers stepped inside, I expected them to dash to the second floor to reach his apartment, but they didn’t. For here came Karlsen hobbling down the stairs to meet them! Once he reached the lobby, I told him to take it easy, and returned hovel. Now I wonder, Wattson, just what kind of medical emergency is this, where an elderly person can escort himself down the stairs, rather than wait for the medics to reach his abode? Maybe someday I’ll find out, if he doesn’t kick the old bucket first.

He has, BTW, landed a job as an “ambassador” for The City. Good for tourism, as they are assigned to various districts and walk up to those who appear to be vacationing, greet them and offer them directions and/or interesting discussions about this or that place, local history, and so on. $21 an hour, not too shabby! I told Karlsen this is a good job for him, as he’ll meet all sorts of interesting people, one or more of whom just might need an illustrator or other artwork, and could hire him! Karlsen has been assigned to the Embarcadero/downtown area, which is PERFECT.

Hohokum tobacco and gift shop may be on the chopping block! As indicated by a postcard delivered to all residents by SF’s Board of Appeals. Apparently, they’ve been caught selling flavored tobacco…ha, ha! Here’s the postcard:

Click here for a larger view.

They will likely be suspended for fifteen days, from selling ANY kind of tobacco. Heck, that’s just a slap on the wrist, good doctor! But hopefully, this will lead to reports and discoveries of OTHER illegal behavior that will eventually shut down that abortion of an establishment!

I’m just a teensy bit away from completing THIS chapter, which I was hoping would mark the finale to my Brindlekin Tales trilogy. In fact, THIS missive is so lengthy, it’s bound to be this chapter’s end. I sincerely DESPISE the idea of breaking into a NEW chapter with a string of sub-chapters from A to Z for yet a third time! So now I’m thinking about POSSIBLY extending Chapter 18z into “Chapter 18z – 001,” “Chapter 18z – 002,” and so on, for as long as it takes to culminate into the happiest outcome possible. Surely that will occur long before I reach sub-segment “18z – 999!” Though I imagine our LGBT Family will be more sensible and break Book 3 down into three separate books, thus giving a total FIVE books composing my Brindlekin Tales: not a trilogy, but a QUINTERNITY! Speaking of which:

I just discovered this page (from Reddit’s Carl Jung sub of all places), by searching for “quinternity” to be sure of the spelling, and if it’s even a real word because it couldn’t be found on, which said instead “Did you mean quaternity?”:

Christianity – Trinity, Quaternity or Quinternity?

Well, it’s now 11:37 PM and Deek dropped by to pick up his gadgets and get more dog food. He was seated by the bus stop atop some bedding, and the pooches were enjoying a meal: Lucky five feet away from Deek, and Flaco right beside him. He does that so neither one nor the either starts eating from their sibling’s bowl. But they weren’t eating at the moment, so I reached out to pet and hug them each…when all of a sudden their master hollered at me:

“Get outta here now, let them eat! They stopped eating because YOU’RE here!”

“Deek, that’s not true,” I said. “They were taking a break, so I greeted them before going back inside.”

“Well you can go back outside NOW!” he barked.

So I then looked down at him and directly in the eye:

“You need to snap out of it, Deek, you hear me? SNAP, SNAP out of it! SNAP SNAP SNAP!”

“Alright, alright, just leave me alone,” he muttered.

“Leave you alone?” I replied. “I’m not even bothering you. One day you praise me to the heavens, another day you fuck with my head. This has gotta STOP, Deek!”

“Shut UP!” he hollered from where his head and the rest of him was now tucked inside the large comforter.

“Why are you even sleeping here, Deek?” I admonished. “I asked you many times to not crash out in front of my building at night, because of the heavy foot traffic that keeps Flaco awake and barking on and off through the night, to protect you.”

He didn’t say a word at that point, so I pet the dogs one more time and returned hovel. But some twenty minutes later I realized they also could use some water, so filled two bowls and brought them down, where I set them beside the shopping cart, close enough to get to the water while still leashed up. The dogs were now tucked in beside Deek, Lucky by his bent legs where you could only discern him as a lump under the blanket, while Flaco lay close to his chest and in his arms, her head poking out to watch all who passed by, in her desire to guard him with her life.

I HOPE Flaco gets some sleep, but she keeps pushing her nose and eyes back outside from under the cover every time Deek attempts to pull her beneath it. At least, this time around, she hasn’t emitted a single bark yet, but silently watches, instead. In spite of her master’s nasty behavior towards me, I am nonetheless gratified he’s doing a good job of keeping them comfy and warm tonight. Though I don’t understand WHY he insists on sleeping right outside my building, with so much foot traffic and brassy jerkwads slinking by. Before returning upstairs, I took this snapshot:

Click here for a larger view.

I haven’t heard from you since you emailed me that you’re here in the city with Erwyn, for his medical appointment at Ft. Miley. That was two days ago, Wednesday. In the early afternoon. So now I’m a bit concerned, since you haven’t sent off a quick note via email or text, that everything went fine and you’re back in Mendocino.

I even texted you earlier today, hoping to get SOME kind of a response, but no cigar! (Don’t worry, it’s not flavored.)

Now it’s almost midnight without nary a word from you, Wattson! Of course I trust you’re BOTH okay, and that you’re simply overwhelmed with work and chores. However, I shuddered when the image of your vehicle careening off a cliff on Highway 1 upon your return north came to mind! What on earth would I do without you, how would I go on?

There would suddenly be NO one in my life to confide in, be silly with, and do all the other wonderful things close friends do! No one. Not even Deek, as he’s a very DIFFERENT kind of friend, though a good comrade just the same. And then I shuddered once more at aNOTHER horrid thought:

What if I lost BOTH you and Deek-and-the-pups around the same time? Then what? I can only say this: that I would PERSIST no matter what, because you BOTH have shown me the way, with a sterling attitude that makes one a winner no matter HOW egregious seem the odds! I would maintain a cheerful outlook and demeanor to anyone I meet, or know. But let us not dwell on such a dark fantasy any longer, for I conjecture a more OPTIMISTIC reason why you haven’t reported back to me yet, besides probably being busy as fuk, tending to both your SO and your calling as an author. Which is:

You didn’t come to Baghdad by the Bay for medical reasons at all…that is just a RUSE. You are STILL down here now, in preparation for my debut to the world, and the great celebration that goes with it! You, and Erwyn, and my attorney, and Deek (once he arises in the morning and departs to join up with you), and Arwyn Miles and Medusa only knows who else! A final thought, and then ends this o’erlong missive:

Wednesday was a BEAUTIFUL day, was it not, Wattson? And I now realize exactly WHY it was. Because you brought your radiant self TO our troubled city, and filled it with brightness, love and enduring friendship, oh Osmium Empress of the Sky, the Earth and the Underworld and all things that dwell between!

– Zeke K-Holmes

P.S.: I just peeked out the window and I see now that Deek is sitting up, while the pups are curled beside each other on that large, very plump striped pillow. Not a single bark outta them! 12:38 AM, time to put my “pen” down and kick back in bed and watch some scary videos and a good movie or two. And a “share size” packet of chocolate M&Ms that I WON’T share with anyone!

Subject: So peaceful last night, almost magical!
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: June 18, 2022 at 10:15 AM

Not just peaceful, but foot traffic was low in spite of it being Friday night…with friendly vibes in the air! Deek and dogs were parked alongside the bus stop, where he slept all night. NO barking whatsoever!

Here in the Castro, Friday and Saturday nights are usually the worst: drunks, meth heads, crass behavior, pissing behind cars, drama-queen fights breaking out, someone having a nervous breakdown right below my window, puking on the sidewalk, double parked vehicles booming rap music loud enough to shake down the walls of Jericho, etc. But not THIS Friday night! I wonder what they put in the water…or the air! Whatever it is, I wish they’d keep it up.

Re: So peaceful last night, almost magical!
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: June 18, 2022 at 11:22 AM

> Yay!! And all quiet with the “eviction?”

I suppose so…haven’t had another spooky letter stuck to my door since that 30-day notice to quit the premises. Haven’t heard from my attorney since her email five days ago, and since she’s not in her office Fridays, I don’t expect to hear from her until this Monday, at the earliest. AFAIK she is attempting to persuade Ablablah Realty’s attorney to drop the charge(s) and accept my rental payment for this month. I’m guessing she’s already spoken with their lawyer, or is trying to get in touch with him, still.

Their position is weak on both counts (alleged dog bite and breaking a contract rule), so I’m not the least bit worried.

Deek is still outside, resting on a thick comforter with the hounds. They have (all three) been quiet all night long. About two hours ago, just before I stepped out for coffee, I heard Flaco bark a few times, so I looked out the window:

She had escaped her master’s hand (which held loosely onto her leash while he slept), and was almost a half block up, barking at another person’s much larger dog…whose owner simply told her to stay, don’t follow. Flaco obliged, but never got closer to them than five feet anyway, and her barking was low key and brief.

When I stepped outside I discovered she was now sniffing about, maybe forty feet away from where I stood. She didn’t notice me, even though the gate made its usual loud “click.” So I crouched down and called to her in a friendly tone, whence she turned to me and began to trot in my direction…and after another moment, she realized it was ME and came dashing into my arms!

I sat down on the sidewalk where she immediately crawled onto my lap, and I embraced her, rubbed her belly, and whispered sweet doggy nothings into her floppy Yoda ear. She was SO happy to be with me! After a few more minutes of this joyful reunion, I kindly escorted her back to her master, who was by then half awake. She didn’t even pay attention to the front gate by trying to pull me in that direction, but allowed me to escort her back to her resting spot with Deek and her brother.

“Here, take the leash,” I said, “she was wandering up the block.” He did that right away. I decided then to bring more water down, but first gave Lucky the same lovin’ care I just did Flaco.

Deek also requested a ginger ale, so I brought that to him, along with fresh water for the pooches. In sum:

The entire night and into this morning has been delightfully serene and amicable, including Deek’s behavior. A day that I thought might never come, but always strove to achieve.

– Zeke K-Holmes

P.S.: Well, it looks like I must proceed with a NEW chapter that starts with the first letter of the alphabet, since “Chapter 18z” (book 3) was completed last night. AAMOF, I’m removing the final section from that chapter, “Above and Beyond the Call of Duty,” over to the NEXT chapter, to be entitled “Chapter 19a” whether I like it or not! Obviously, my Brindlekin Tales will NEVER end, but I so desperately want the pups’ living on the streets 24/7 to end ASAP.

Click here for a larger view.

Subject: Bad News (of a sort)
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: June 18, 2022 at 3:05 PM

I just received a notice of Unlawful Detainer in my snail-mailbox today. See attachment. I have already phoned my attorney and left a voicemail, as well as sent her a copy of this detainer via email. I’ll have to wait till Monday to hear from her. I have only five business days to respond, or I will be evicted very soon after that.

Re: Bad News (of a sort)
From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: June 18, 2022 at 4:13 PM

> Oh, crap! wasn’t there supposed to be a 30-day notice first??

I already got it.

> And who is the “other person listed” on the last page??

Ablahblah Realty’s attorney…and that’s it. I just logged onto my case file in Superior Court’s website. Nothing mentioned re. a dog bite. No explanation for why they want me evicted. So I think they’re just going for breach of contract, not allowed to have a pet in a single room. However, the manager’s tacit permission allowing me to do just that for well over a year, knocks that outta the ballpark.

Refusal to remove a pet based on false accusation of a bite, and no evidence provided, is another issue altogether…and for which reason I believe their attorney sees no point in addressing that.

So I am NOT being sued by the complainant of the alleged bite, AFAIK. Though Ablablah’s attorney MAY be suing on behalf of the resident, but they don’t have a case in that regards. I see NO mention of that in my files. I think their attorney is just pushing a case through without any REAL consideration of the specifics (such as manager’s tacit approval), hoping to just shove it through the court system and win.

This is just my conjecture, we’ll have to wait on Ms. Elvensborn’s advice in two days. I’m sure she’ll contact me on Monday. She told me she’s hoping to avoid litigation, and just have the plaintiff drop all charges…because if it proceeds to litigation, I’ll have to fight it in court, and there is no guarantee I will win. Though in her informed opinion, my chances of winning ARE very good, should it come to that.

It’s just another day in paradise, Wattson! Glad to hear that Erwyn and you are doing well.

BODHISATTVA PREMISE (and a reminder):

Worry is never a productive approach. Stay calm, enjoy each day, and all shall be fine in my world. This is just a game, teaching me how to become a better player. And ALL that’s really asked of me is to maintain the coolness factor…I really need do nothing else.

– Zeke K-Holmes


Regarding my Bodhisattva Premise about not caving in to worry: it ties into a grander perspective as described in the Tibetan Book of the Dead. Which essentially states that should a demon or demons approach you with horrific threats and ghastly weapons, do NOT collapse in fear, but just remain as calm as possible, and trust no harm shall come to you…and in that manner you will pass to the next higher level, rather than get stuck in the present one for another lifetime.

Worry is, of course, simply one of those demons.


While the Tibetan Book of the Dead (TBOTD) is intended to instruct one who is dying, and to guide them through various levels to go to the highest one possible, I concluded years ago that our present life is but one of these levels…and that, since the Buddha has declared that heaven and hell are a state of mind, the Book of the Dead’s instructions ALSO apply at ALL times in our lives, not just when we’re on the death bed!

For when you allow fear to take over, you have descended into your own personal hell. But when you learn to overcome fear, and all other negative emotions, your mind is in heaven. These demons, claims the TBOTD, will shed their masks of horror to reveal themselves as benevolent angels, should you succeed in suppressing a negative perception…and let you pass through to the next level…IOW a more heavenly state of mind.

This is not to say you FAIL if you don’t conquer your fears, for under circumstances where your good works are remarkable, you shall win no matter HOW you react. But why put yourself into some needless state of agony, grief or terror, for even a nanosecond? So the TBOTD’s lessons are ALSO ways to live a better life NOW, which is really entirely based on your perception and attitude. DON’T wait till you’re close to death, to apply these teachings!

I have described many times in my essays and stories, my conclusion about the wisdom contained in the TBOTD, but it’s always good to refresh one’s take on the matter every now and then, and perhaps better express your findings this time around, than in previous writings.

Now, apply this insight to my particular circumstance regarding this eviction hoopla:

Those who play my demons are OBVIOUSLY the complainant, the building manager, and Ablahblah Realty’s attorney…and perhaps a few others I’m not aware of at this time. (Oh, yeah, there’s my quasi-fascist neighbor Moe, almost forgot about him). It’s like a kid riding through an amusement park’s haunted house, where this or that monster pops up in your face when you least expect…IOW you never know when some OTHER fiend will appear along the way. So, there may manifest another imp or two–or even a whole plague of ’em–in my world, before this chapter comes to a benevolent close!

In a nutshell:

My bodhisattva guardians who play adversary just tossed another worry bomb my way…testing my mettle so to speak. But I take it all in stride, remaining kind and cheerful, continuing to do my good deeds for Deek, the doggies, and other homeless people here in the Castro, regardless of my own personal challenges. For I also know this:

THEY ARE WATCHING ME, and my behavior through this drawn-out trial is utterly important in how these so-called “villains” (and those straddling the fence) judge me. I WILL IMPRESS THE FUK OUTTA THEM!

If I haven’t already.

Texting with Wattson: 6/18/22

From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: June 19, 2022 at 5:39 PM

I plan to send this off to my attorney, but only after you look it over and give me your feedback. Thanks immensely ahead of time!


POINTS IN MY DEFENSE (Ezekiel J. Krahlin)

To: Senior Attorney Magdalena Elvensborn, Bay Area Legal Aid

I hope at least one of my points below will facilitate your handling my case. Some of the incidents noted herein are not directly related to my eviction crisis, but I believe they tie into it as regards the resident manager's on-and-off hostility towards me, due to an earlier conflict last year and, more generally, a harsh bias against my homeless advocacy and other progressive viewpoints, my decades-long occupancy at a low rent, and god only knows what else. At any rate, I spent most of this day thinking this through.

1) I was sitting the dogs for a friend in a pet-friendly apartment building; they weren't living with me. They would stay with me anywhere from one to three days a week, especially during hot or rainy weather.

2) Resident manager Kevin Bond gave me tacit permission to have the dogs visit me for well over a least since October 2020. He never told me to remove them from the premises, other than one false dog-bite accusation last year in February (which I ignored and nothing came of it), and another, recent dog-bite accusation with no evidence of any injury presented to me...other than when a police officer came to my door (June 9th or perhaps the 8th) and showed me a grainy blowup print of someone's foot, but it was not clear to me any bite had occurred.

Had Mr. Bond just told me at any time to cease dog sitting simply because it may be a breach of contract, I would've done so immediately, though with sadness. Or if he or the present complainant had shown me real proof of a bite, rather than just an accusation, I would've promptly removed the dogs from my building.

3) The false accusation mentioned above was claimed by two residents who lived together, down the hall from me: Myrtle Haversak and her son, Adisa. And appears to be retaliation for my mailing a complaint to the landlord (Ablahblah Realty) about her son and friends harassing me, lingering for one, two hours or longer (in the hallway close to my door, and that of other residents) various evenings throughout December 2020 and January 2021 without wearing covid-19 masks, and acting raucous and intimidating. I believe you already have my letter of grievance dated January 11, 2021.

Because just one day after receiving a copy of my complaint, they told Mr. Bond one of the dogs bit Adisa...and that she (the mother) was there when it happened. Not only is the timing of their accusation highly suspicious, but I know for a fact it never happened, as I do not allow the dogs to roam freely in the building...nor have they ever claimed a dog bite on the day (or soon thereafter) it supposedly occurred (whenever that was), to either Mr. Bond or myself. Nor have I ever seen them together whenever the dogs were with me.

I have a video of Adisa and friends harassing me at my building's front gate, which link I believe you already have, via a copy of an email I sent to Ablahblah Realty's attorney.

Adisa is the person on the right, leaning against the open gate in the beginning of the video. This unpleasant incident occurred on April 5, 2021. Some days later, Mr. Bond asked if I had evidence of the altercation, so I sent him that same link. I asked him if they were moving (and that's why Adisa and friends were standing around in the lobby) to which he replied, "I don't know." Nor did he care to explain exactly why they were congregating downstairs. Be that as it may:

Ms. Haversak and son moved out abruptly on May 22, 2021. And I don't think they were evicted, though I could be wrong.

Then, about two months later (July 30, 2021) assault and theft occurred at a convenience store I shop at frequently. I witnessed the tail end of the fracas from across the street, as I happened to be walking the pups at that time, and didn't want to put them in harm's way.

Turned out that Adisa was among the small group of two or three teenagers; loud arguing and a scuffle ensued. I understand one person (who I think is the brother of an employee there) was jumped, but he managed to push the attacker away. The suspects had a weapon or weapons (one or more knives I think) and stole some items before departing.

Since the dogs were with me, I decided not to approach them to be a better witness, but turned the corner and strolled a half block down and waited until the disruptive scene ended, which it did a few minutes later. By the time I arrived at the shop, police were already there, though the suspects were not, and one of the clerks told me what went down. I don't know if a police report was filed.

I decided later that day, to inform Ms. Haversak of her son's criminal behavior, but had no way of contacting her. Fortunately, I discovered she is registered on Facebook. So I posted a brief message to her about the incident, and that was that...she never got in touch with me, which suits me fine.

4) Regarding Mr. Bond's signed letter to me, dated Feb. 12, 2021, about Myrtle and son's false complaint: I find it both childishly hostile and prejudiced against the homeless. It speaks for itself. 

He conveys a exaggerated description of the dogs' behavior, painting them in a malicious light, including calling them "vicious." Nor is his claim true, that I allowed the pups to run about freely. What he saw is from the lobby camera, which only shows them running across the lobby to the front gate, and my catching up a few seconds later. The camera did not show that I always walked them down the stairs holding their leashes, and once I reached the lowest landing, could see whether or not someone was either in the lobby or standing outside by the gate. If neither was the case, I let them dash to the exit, then picked up their leashes again a moment later to step outside. Furthermore:

He accepted Myrtle/Adisa's dog-bite testimony without any evidence offered.

5) In light of the first dog-bite accusation being obviously false, I figure this current claim to be likewise. For no evidence was offered that a bite did indeed occur...even now, at this late date. Thus, I ignored the complaint just as I did for the one last year, in February. I saw no sign of a bite anywhere on the accuser's feet, ankles or legs, not a single mark and certainly not any blood, when I rushed downstairs to collect the dogs and hurry them outside. You'd think if such occurred, the manager would get on it immediately by showing me bona fide proof. Why didn't the resident himself show me the alleged injury that day, or one or two days later? Why didn't Mr. Bond send me a picture or video, or both, when I emailed him that I haven't seen any evidence, the same day he posted that complaint on my door? Had real proof been shown me, I would've removed the dogs from the premises posthaste.

In that letter he did not state a deadline when the dogs are to be removed, or warn that this could lead to an eviction. So, due to a previous accusation that was false, I ignored the letter, and planned not to remove the dogs unless I finally received solid evidence of a bite. Upon which case, I'd evict them immediately. But it never happened (being shown proof). And I was not about to ban the pups based on hearsay, which would be an admittance on my part that an injury did indeed occur.

6) Then on May 27, 2022 Mr. Bond handed me a 3-day notice to quit, dated May 23rd. And that was the first time breaching my contract was thrown into the mix. I thought about that, and concluded it's time to stop dog-sitting, as it's the same as the resident manager telling me to get rid of the dogs, because it might be considered a violation of my renter's agreement. I was not about to argue the difference between dog sitting and having them live here full time. So on May 27, 2022 I removed the dogs from the premises to never return, and informed both the resident manager and Ablahblah Realty's attorney that same day, by email.

7) The dogs have never bitten anyone when they were with me, and I've often had to squeeze by someone going up or down the stairs, with them on my leash. While in my room, they were amazingly calm and quiet, glad for the respite from the streets...never any undue barking, nor did they chew on stuff or mess up my place in any way.

These are small dogs (25 pounds each), half dachshund, with tiny, weak jaws. So even if they were biters they could hardly do any serious harm to anyone. But having said that, if they did have a tendency to bite, I'd never have had them visit me, even just once.

9) Ariakat Realty's attorney stated in that 3-day notice to quit, that the dogs were attacking other residents. Hardly the case. These are trumped-up charges coming from one person: Kevin Bond. 

10) I never encouraged my homeless friend, Deek, to adopt a dog, as I think it's cruel to force a sweet natured creature to live on the streets. Yet he went ahead and did just that, anyway. Then, he adopted a second pooch around seven months later! This is not a situation where I suggested he adopt a dog or two, and I'll help take care of them. But once he had the pups, and I saw how sweet they are, and vulnerable to the vagaries of the street and their owner's scary mood swings, I suggested I dog sit for him from time to time. For doing so would increase the odds of the dogs living a healthier, happier and longer life. They have become very popular in the Castro, and greatly adored.

11) There is always the occasional exception to this or that rule, even when part of a signed contract. A good example is those laws from a more ignorant era that still exist in most every state that are highly prejudiced, and for that reason ignored...though they should, of course, be erased for once and for all. It's the same thing with some landlords or apartment managers, who sometimes look the other way, because the tenant is respected and responsible.

12) False accusations of dog bites are common, especially if another person or people hold enmity towards a dog owner because they are not of a like mind, politically, religiously, or in some other way. I have taken a lot of flak over the years for standing up for our homeless and other disenfranchised LGBT folks, even here in "Gay Mecca," because so many in our community have turned frighteningly conservative.


I am not sure yet how to compose my appeal to the unlawful detainer in a brief statement, as this is all new to me. Perhaps:

"I have yet to be shown any real evidence of a dog bite. The dogs were not living with me, I was sitting them on and off for a friend, and the resident manager Kevin Bond gave me tacit permission to do so for well over a year."

My Superior Court files do not reveal the cause(s) for eviction, just that they want me I have no idea whether or not an alleged dog bite is part of their attorney's grievance.


From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: June 19, 2022 at 6:26 PM

> It’s a good letter. Thorough, reasonable, and clear. Send it off!

Thanks, cap’n will do! I’ve added one more point to that list:

13) We live in very stressful times, the news is downright frightening. In such times, those who are already prone to attack others for no good reason are more likely to perpetuate that with a vengeance. In other words: some people are freaking out.

And I’ve changed the title to “13 Points in my Defense.” Lucky number, I guess.

The great thing about this letter, is it’s also a good preparation for a possible civil suit against the landlord, if my present attorney thinks I have a good case. Though she is only here to help me not get evicted…she’d have to refer me to another attorney in their group, who handles civil suits.

Meanwhile, if I DO wind up losing the case and going homeless, I found an excellent storage service just four blocks from here ($122/month for a 4×5 container).

That will keep all my papers and computer devices and peripherals safe. So THAT’S a load off my mind! And to think all this eviction crap exploded in my face right when I was planning to purchase a Chromebook soon. Just what kind of voodoo is IN their chips, Wattson?

– Zeke K-Holmes

From: Ezekiel Krahlin
To: My Dear Wattson
Date: June 19, 2022 at 6:46 PM

> That must NOT happen.

It won’t, I was being silly.

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