Dark Shadows

My #hair is some crazy shiite. Sometimes it's frizzed out; makes me look like Bozo the clown.  This happens more often than not, now that I tie my hair in bun.  Well… not a bun.  The less tangles I can manage, the better.  But since my hair's so curly, when I tie it all the way up where my thin spot progressively thins,… did you know I started watching Dark Shadows?

This old soap opera style drama series is about a vampire dude.  He'd been away, in Europe, England to be hon… London.  Anyway, He's been away in London and now he's returned home (where his ancestors are from.  No doubt some other part of England/Europe where English is spoken fluently.

Barnabas, I think his name is.  Anyway, growing up with two older sisters, I remember one of them being hooked on it.  At first, I was drawn in because I guess I must've seen that "scary" scene where Barnabas, in an angry fit, or possible just real horny, reveals his fangs.  His Fang's, man!

So my hair, it just kinda slinkies back into itself; like a slinky.  So it looks like a bun…

I quickly became disinterested with it as I would go on to see that the darn show was a soap opera with yada yada yada.  No Fangs! man.  Screw this, I'm going to my room.  I probably just jerked myself off instead, but this Barnabas dude.  He's a cradle snatcher.  As soon as the dude unpacks into the 'old house', he's already claimed one of the local victims.  A bartender/waitress.  It was a quick death, as she had begun to have some #psycho-ass fits over dealing with her conscience after her first date the Fangs!  Those fangs man, gotta get me a pair of those.  Apparently the ladies like it when you drink their blood.

So I started the day, you see, with very little confidence in my hair and I grabbed an old raggedy baseball cap.  I got two of them: a good one, and a raggedy-ass one.  I always wear 'em backwards anyways.  Dunno why.  But I felt like I was incognito today.  I'm not a baseball cap kinda guy.  Gimme a pork-pie hat any day.

The bird.  She caught my eye as I turned into the on-ramp of Route 66.  About a couple weeks earlier, a small chick mocking bird fell out of his nest.  That didn't go well.  But when you look into a birds eyes, it's quite amazing.  Because they're POV is so different from ours as they go 'bout flying here and there.  Lately I've been seeing a falcon/hawk/bird.  Never an owl.  I've seen a real owl about as many times as I've seen praying mantises.

Have I mentioned my garden?

Suddenly when one steps out doors, and there's no traffic, and there's no people, and once in awhile you may run into a patrol car, but that's neither here nor there.  They watch.  When I think cop, I think of big brother.  George Orwell's big brother.

And now my brain will explain itself.  You see, on the one hand the Covic ordeal is a conspiracy.  Fake, etc.  On the other hand, if it is faked, then maybe we all are being watched.  By who?  Doesn't matter for now, just knowing that I'm being watched is creepy.  Cops, okay, I said it.  Cops!  What if we all be getting surveilled. I imagine they teach cops at the academy to use homing pigeons and falcons to track suspects discreetly, when a helicopter is too loud. And me, minding my own biz while I take a break from watching Dark Shadows, I'm all dressed in a baseball cap, left my phone at home, passing all them green holistic vending machines…

I know it's not cool having to look over one's shoulder about this stuff, but remember: Covic is a façade. What was it #AnnieHardy said to me?  Well, she'll say almost anything but we're in total agreement on things.  So there's that.  I mean, even if this amnesia has caused me to forget a side of myself where I'm already married to somebody and I'm just not sure who she might be, and it is her who is behind all the paranoia train of thought becuz just becuz.

So the darling little homing pigeon was probably trying to drop off a message to one of her carriers.  Of course with the incognito baseball cap, the sunglasses (for the California sun) and the surgical mask, who would blame the poor homing pigeon for not recognizing her handler. She takes a dive and impacts the tarmac street hard.  Just to get my interest she does this.  I didn't see no truck strike her, thankfully.  That's probably why I went back to pick her up; if I had seen the collision, I would've dismissed it as a dead bird.  I haven't thought of a name for it yet, so if you have any suggestions. I would enjoy hearing it.

Here's the connections between #CopsEtDirt This whole thing started when I tried to update my blog by thinking happy thoughts after hearing of the riots up in Minneapolis.  Since I've been thinking of a having used the word 'dirt' in a way that can be generalized as a reference to gossip, I drew dirt for panel one of the comic strip I'm working on.  Panel two has a worm in it.  That's what I told the cop the last time he tried to bullshit his way out of admitting he was wrong and never should have pulled me over.  Did you see that one?  Snakes on a plain. When I think of earthworms and what believable color I might choose to paint it, against the brown frame of dirt, it's probably pink.  PINK!  Hot Pink.