august angst

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i wasn’t going to write anything today just because it’s to damn hot.  yeah, well, here i am any the ways pounding something out.  the ides of august are long past and the month itself is just about to pass as well.  fine by me.  there’s a t s eliot line about something being the cruelest of months.  i can’t remember which one he was talking about but for me it’s going to have to be, august. this august hasn’t been to awful bad till this past week.  actually the whole summer hasn’t been as bad as it can get for these parts but it’s been bad enough.oh, there hasn’t been that 10 or 15 day stretch of over 100 degree weather.  sizzling everything in it’s wake and driving the wackos even wackier.  like back in 1969 when charlie manson and his crew came out of the valley of death and the underground chocolate fountain to wreck havoc with just about everyones sanity.  bad sad times for sure.

though for sheer bad hot summertime juju, hopefully, nothing will ever top richard ramirez’s night stalker august mayhem starting back in 1984 and rampaging up into august of 1985.  surely a mad maniac dredged up from the bowels of hell to give pretty much every sane soul in the los angeles basin a true nightly living nightmare.  hot humid nights spent worrying if the window is left open will the fucker sneak in here and kill us in our pool of sweat.  times of rampant paranoia.  too hot for open windows but not if trip wires are set up and noise makers set to go at the slightest touch.  sleeping with the winchester defender locked and cocked by your side.  enough bad juju in the night air it almost visibly crackled up until he was spotted by some local vatos in east la  trying to steal a car and make another escape.  vato justice almost got him.  they beat the shit out of him.  sadly they didn’t kill him.  though it ended a years worth of mental angst for millions of us.

the night air crackled last night or this early morning with rolling thunder and mad lights in the dark clouded sky.  last nights heat of the lightning and the humidity of the thunder made for that semi sleep stuff that proceeds or returns one to those long ago august nights of mayhem and murder.  a long nights journey into a hot humid sunrise.  hopefully, one without some madman slipping into your room or mind to make things even worse than they already are.

august went out with a bang last night.  we had sorta been lulled into the summer of forgotten augusts past.  well, it seems you can never count august out. not till it’s over and the mexican hurricanes stop slopping over here into the the valley of the smoke  and the city of lost angels.

nice photo. no, i didn’t take it.



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