From the full version of Sunnyside's Lousy Book
Journeyman -- Whatever -- They --Want
From The City Journal Entry April 26, 1999 I think
One day at about 2:45 PM my video camera came in handy as I looked across the street and saw one of the city’s large cube van with the license plate number 217350 WA. It. Out jumped Mr. Journeyman Engineer Cap. I’d seen him pull into his own driveway with it before and drop off a bunch of galvanized hardware and I thought it would be nice to get the license plate number while it was parked out in front of his place to prove that he isn’t always working for the money us tax payers spend on his salary. He caught me snapping a picture, and he even yelled at me when he got home from work later that night. He tried to get me to video tape me again, but I just ignored him and continued with what I was doing at the time. I guess someone might have told him that I can’t use a video recording with sound of him at the same time without his permission.
Later that night I went up to the local grocery store and just guess who was up there talking up a storm with some employees there? He was telling a couple of older gals a bunch of crap. It was at least waist deep I tell yah. It looked and sounded just as you might guess. The part that I heard that convinced me he was up there spreading rumors was the line he said that was quite clear to me, “It will cost less if it isn’t patented.” Apparently Mr. Journeyman Engineer Cap was up there working his mouth off because of me. Apparently he doesn’t care if he’s feeding his so called friends a bunch of shit or not because there must have been something in it for him. The funny thing was his van was parked at the store when I arrived and when I walked through the door I saw him yacking his head off. I walked around the entire store for at least 30 minutes and I looked over and saw him still standing there yacking away. He looked so suspicious standing with no groceries in his possession, not even a shopping cart. He had his youngest daughter along with him standing around being bored while waiting. She at least found something she wanted but all she could do is hold it in her hands while waiting. Waiting for what, you may ask and I’ll tell you just what….
Well I left his social hour at the grocery store and went back home. I backed in to my drive way and got out to go around through the side door to open the shop’s big sliding door. After entering the shop as I was punching in the code for the alarm. I heard a crunching sound. I looked over my shoulder and saw the sliding door bowing inward. My truck was about to back through the door as if it was an Audi 5000. I booked around the side of the shop and threw the drive selector into neutral. Luckily the floor slab is a bit higher than the concrete trough the doors slide in. The edge of the slab kept the door from caving in from the force of the torque converter while my truck idled. I was glade I’d swapped the C_____ -trunk bed for the P W bed earlier that day because it would have damaged the spoiler on the back of the C____-trunk Bed.
Since I had a new camera I figured I should at least get a shot of the mark left in the door for proof. This led me to think of taking some shots of the stolen property from the city; Mr. Journeyman Train Engineer Cap had lying around his house. The things that got me motivated was that I saw a couple of rubber wheel blocks which looked as though they were from a city owned work truck. One of them had a rope taped to the loop and that customization alone made them unique enough so that someone else working for the city might even recognize it if I posted them at a later time on a web-sight. As I was getting some digital images of them, the fat bitch of a wife he has walked by. I don’t think she was too thrilled because it was obvious I was recording the 12 inch plastic drain pipe and wheel block of which were obviously stolen property. Then I went around back and got a shot of fire hydrant and the fence topped off with Chicago Line. That kind of hose is a bit expensive for someone to buy only to cut the length in its entirely. But if it the tax payers paid for it, why would the guy care?
I couldn’t even record the stolen property without the neighbor guy across the street being interested in my activity. I got a shot of him picking up his phone to call someone as he stood in front of his picture window. Pretty creepy, wouldn’t you say?
After all these experiences with neighbors, I’m sure you can imagine I’d just about had enough of it. I realized it was just a matter of time before the landlord would throw me out, and in a way was looking forward to it because I didn’t like being watched by the neighbors who were obviously invading my privacy.
Another annoying thing had to deal with is every morning during the week a bus for the disabled would come by the neighbors to the west of me to pick up their daughter. The bus driver would use my driveway as a turn around. The thought of the city using my driveway and waking me up in the morning really pissed me off. I bitched the drivers out whenever I caught them, but I’d find myself faced with new drivers all the time. One way I tried to discourage them by planting the PW-bed in the middle of my driveway. It was an inconvenience for me because I would have to dodge the bed whenever I’d back into the driveway. One day I backed into it. Luckily I didn’t do any damage to it. I was wondering what I was going to do with it once I moved to another place. I had four beds and a space in a trailer court would only have room for two.
Then one evening while I arrived home, the Journeyman Engineer Cap was standing his front yard alongside his teenage daughter. When I went to back in my drive way, my mind wasn’t on what I was doing because of the creep standing in his front yard. My mind was on the fact that he was involved in invading my place when I was gone. Since the PW bed was parked in the middle of my driveway I accidentally backed into it. It wasn’t the first time, but it annoyed none the less.
I pulled away from it and threw my truck into reverse and punched it. I rammed the bed with the backend of my truck as hard as I could. The bed went hurling about 30 feet toward the neighbor’s yard. It was fine display aggression for all to see. I felt like it was sort of a display of my confidence because I knew some day I would have thousands of them. I could only hope they would think more of it than me because for me it wasn’t that much money or work put into it and therefore it would appear to have more value to the neighbors. I figured the neighbors would get stuck looking at the torn up dilapidated debris of the first bed for my truck ever. It was obvious that I would eventually have no place to put it and it wasn’t making its way to the Smithsonian Institute, so I thought it was worth more as a demonstration.
A day or two later, I saw that the Fat Bitch was in her front yard as I arrived home. I figured what the hell; I’ll give her a little show. I took on the game of trying to smash the hell out of the bed with the tail end of my system. As I continued to smash it I even tore up the spoiler on the back of my C___-trunk bed. I munched away on the dilapidated bed as she stood by her metal fence post not more than 10 feet from my bed as if she was concerned I’d hit her post with my beat up bed. Even though a stump was kept it from going over onto her property, she shoot there with the most concerned look on her face. I got a kick out of it and kept hammering away on the bed until she had seen enough of it. I felt like go ahead; take a picture it last longer.
May 6, 1999; the city is giving my landlord a hassle. I don't even think I have to move my trailer. All I have to do is go out to the coast for one night. Heck we should document me sleeping in the shop for one night. Yeah, I'll just back my trailer up and unhook it for 24 hours. That is as good as a round trip, since I can' even afford license tabs. I think I have a temporary permit somewhere around here. I could pull it out and sleep somewhere more dangerous for those crooks. Don't you think that is what they have in mind? I'll just park it across the street and sleep in my shop for a night. Then watch these neighbors belly ache. Like spilled milk. Yeah, waist some more of my time. Just see where it gets you. If I had my pressure washer, I’d just head for the coast. Pathetic. I got a foam pad and a sleeping bag. Shit what next? You guys make me sick.
The rest is all going to fall in place because we’re making history
Update 7-10-99; I think the calls my landlord got were fake. Meaning why someone would have to pay someone to call when it could be just someone calling and saying they were the neighbor. Part of the reason I smashed up my bed. I knew it was no reason to complain because I wasn't hurting anybody and if I what to smash up my shit, there is nothing they can do about it. Just like the day I took pictures of stolen city property. Cops couldn't do anything but come around with a strait jacket and become talkers. Hah, they didn't even talk much. They said they couldn't help. I guess I should have told my mother that. They witness me state evidence of crimes right in front of two cops. At least they came back by. Maybe they know what we are missing. They said I was creditable. It would be pretty silly not to, from their point of view.
I better have someone call me in the middle of the night to make sure I'm in my shop, don't you think. Yeah, run a grinder. We might get more witnesses than we need. Video a TV show in the middle of the night in my shop. Just like camping out.
Like I'm really living high on the hog in a trailer. I like the fact that the landlord is getting the documents and not me. I think it would fall under harassment.
Dirt, more dirt. The material just falls into my hands. Wonder how many people have patents pending on such things as I do and still live in a trailer four years later? They are taking money right out of your pocket and you like reading about it.
Don't you think this trailer bit should end up in a courtroom? Do you think I would be so lucky to give another judge a copy of my book? Would you want to be the judge that gets it handed to? It’s like a problem getting handed right over to you, if you are a judge. Then what would you do or say? I'm sure they have a circle of crooked judges. Don't you think it would be fun to find out who they are? I'm sure they have a few of them, because look at who signs their check.
I think it is kind of foolish to even move the trailer, but if it makes the landlord happy, I'll do it for just that reason and nothing else. It is not to my advantage and I know it. But we'll get those crooks one way or another, won't we?
I just wonder how many we bring down as well as who we bring down. Look at the bright side. I'm the good guy, I can't lose. I'm going to kick ass on this matter sooner or later. The longer it takes, the more we bring down. Right? The shit’s getting deep.
Speaking of shit; the shit was building up inside buckets I had stashed inside the shop. They have dozen buckets began to emit a stench and I knew although my foot was borderline as far as being able to carrying the heavy buckets out to the road, I knew it was time to dump them. So one night while I was up late, drinking coffee and writing my book, I decided that it was time to dispose of them.
It was about three in the morning when I packed the buckets of shit out to the side of the road; one at a time. I drug the garden hose out to the side of the road because I knew I would need to rinse out the buckets afterward. I knew I would feel embarrassed if anyone would have caught me but there was nothing else I could do. Quietly I lifted the lid of the manhole with the manhole hook I had from work. As I dumped the buckets down the manhole I figured it was about ten feet deep and I wondered what the county workers would think of all the shit stuck all over the walls and stuff. Therefore I not only used the garden hose to rinse out the buckets, but out of consideration, I rinsed down the walls of the manhole. The whole process took longer than I thought it would because the shit had settled to the bottom of the buckets and proved to be quit a chore to get the cleaned out. All in all I felt embarrassed for the American public for having a guy such as myself by stuck with such a task. The feeling of my pride was low you could say.
The next chapter of Sunnyside's Lousy Book is:
Best Friend; My Ass
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Journeyman -- Whatever -- They --Want is:
My Synchro-link truck
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