I have warned people about this. I have explained many times before about the evil that seems to find me. This place, this quiet suburban area I live in, is nothing more than a watering hole for the devil and his chums. From the dead zombie wife living in my walls, to the witch, and even the ghost of Carlos, the demon gathering is growing. It’s not just growing in my hood, it’s also growing inside the stomach of the witch. Yes, folks. The witch is with child and if American Horror Story has taught me anything, Spock is a gay guy who likes Halloween and ghost can knock up bitchy moms.
People have spoken about the anti-christ for sometime now. Some believe he is already here. Some think it’s Obama. While I doubt it’s him, you wonder. Pastor Shepard thinks it’s him. If you don’t believe me, watch the video below. He knows all and he’s building a Jesus Plane to save us…or at least those that contribute to its assembly. Other theories revolve around a small town in Kansas. Stull, Kansas is a place the pope himself won’t even fly over. It is said to be one of the gateways to Hell. There is a graveyard with a church (which has been burned down) with steps that lead nowhere. Freaky, huh? In the graveyard, a witch fornicated with the devil. His seed was planted and she gave birth to the anti-christ. if that is true, he is already here. He is already walking among us.
I don’t believe either of those crazy ideas. My idea is sane. My idea has logic. I have stories and fact to back it all up and prove to you once and for all, the anti-christ is coming. He has yet to be born but when he is, you can be sure that the little guy is coming out with a pitchfork and a secret crush on Suddam Hussein. Let’s go back some to the beginning. Let’s talk a little more about the witch. The witch entered my world a few years ago. She led me to believe she was okay. I extended my hand and welcomed her with a
firm handshake fist bump. As time went on, her accurate know how of Virgo’s and how typical we are, were spot on. She knew me better than I knew myself. Her moving into my neighborhood was her plan all along. She just had to get a little push from the devil. I am sure those two were in cahoots before she moved in. He’s out to get me. She’s out to get me. Now, he knocked her up. Folks, get ready to meet the Anti-Christ.
The witch is now with child. The devil can take many forms. He can look like Al Pacino or he can look like a lanky kid who has a thing for witches. How else would this gal get a man in her life? I don’t see any angels or everyday normal guys lining up at her door to sweep her off her feet? (and yes, I said sweep. It’s a witch joke. Cause witches ride brooms, people sweep with brooms.) How many? I’ll tell you. None. No sane person would do that. No god loving Christian would ask for her hand or dip himself inside her deep, dark crevice. Not even a T-Rex mormon would share with her the good word and get her to stop before she even started.
I am aware the witch lives with another person. It’s a male. That alone will make anyone think that she is living with the devil. Maybe she put a spell on the devil and is coaxing him to carrying out the plan for Armageddon. There are plenty of theories. Was it his idea to knock up the witch or did she put a spell on the devil himself to get him to plant his fertile, evil seed inside her? Let’s say that it was his idea. Being his idea, he had to get near her. How else would he do this but trick her into believing someone besides an honorable herm would actually want to do an act that is unholy to say the least. Are you picking up what I’m laying down? If the roommate is the devil, then the devil lives in my hood. His plan works. He knocks her up and the sad, little witch is a pawn in his game to tear down and ruin the world that God himself made for us. The devil is a tricky son of a bitch.
We can go the other route. We can say that the witch planned the whole thing. She already dabbles in the occult. Her powers from Tarot cards and magic 8 balls, gave her pinpoint accuracy of who the devil is. She finds out what disguise he has on and pressures him into falling in love. When that didn’t work, she did some voodoo and cursed him. She wanted the devil to impregnate her. The witch knows this guy is the devil. She may not be the brightest crayon in the box but I have a sneaky suspicion she chose this lanky fellow for the sole purpose of ending the world. She has some beef with the world and a beef with me, that moving in to my neighborhood was step one of bringing the world to its’ knees. To be the one who is carrying the Anti-Christ is big news. Big enough to totally FB status it. After moving in and getting the seed planted, she can move to step two. Step two is putting an end to me. She’ll torment me. She’ll send the ghosts, the zombies, and the army of cats to drive me and others like me, away from this place. We’re here to protect this place. We are the only form of defense in putting an end to her plan to bring mankind to an end. She wants the world to end. Being the wife of the devil and the mother of the Anti-Christ is all that she wants. She wants me gone and this is a big problem.
All the problems I have with the other demons is nothing compared to what will eventually become the beginning of the end. Now I have to worry about the devil poisoning my neighborhood with his evil doings. They must be planning something. Why else would there be ghosts, zombies, and witches living here? I am sure they are prepping for Armageddon. Will the world end in 2012? Doubt that. The child needs time to establish himself. Give it 20 to thirty years before he gets us all to hold hands and sing Kumbayah.
That would be nice but when then happens, we’ll all be ready to watch the world crumble and the Earth will finally come to an end. Will anyone survive? Survive or not survive, it doesn’t matter one bit. When the child comes clawing its way out, the world is doomed. Be forewarned, everyone. The wheels are already in motion. She and the devil have teamed up. His seed is festering inside her. The witch is going to be popping out that kid next year. Enjoy what little time you have left. Pick a side. Will you follow God or take the side of a witch? Choose wisely. Don’t make the mistake and throw the wrong person under the bus.
I have lived in the complex for over a year now. I came here hoping for some sense of security. I was hoping that everything would be okay. Soon after I moved in, I was met with some serious issues. The apartment I live in has some dark history. I wasn’t told about it from the landlords. I did my own research and sleuthing to discover these secrets. I have told the story many times about the Dead Zombie Wife living in my walls. She has been dormant for a while now. That is a plus for me. I don’t know if I would be able to take her evil ways much longer. With Claudia, then came the Ghost of Carlos. Another spirit that resides in what I thought would be a safe and happy environment. Do you see what I am getting at? How can a person possibly live in a place full of ghosts and zombies? Turns out, these two lost souls are not the only things that go bump in the night. Now, I have to deal with a witch.
What an eventful night. It was just before midnight, when I awoke from my slumber. There I was, asleep in my cap. I am a heavy sleeper. I will sleep through everything. Scratch that. I will wake up to two things. My alarm clock on my phone and a phone call. Sometimes I do sleep through a phone call but for this story, I will say I only wake up to them. Honestly, I am a heavy sleeper. I rarely wake up to noises. Even the crying of a newborn won’t wake me up. If hell was raining down and a meteor was about to wipe out mankind, I will not be awake for such a cataclysmic event. To the story at hand. There I was, asleep on the couch. I had just finished some terrible movies and felt the only way to wash that filth off was to sleep and hopefully erase any memory of it from my noggin’. A ruckus startled me and I jumped from the couch to see what was the matter. The noises I was hearing was vivid in my dream. The only thing I recall from my dream was hearing the commotion outside. I went to the door and peeked outside to see what it was. This sudden fear overcame me. I dove back on my couch with a metal bar clutched in my hand. I gripped it tightly where it dug into my palm, spilling blood. With a blood stained hand, I ran to another room. My old roommate was in his bedroom. I called to him, screaming about the madness outside but being a dream, the only thing I could do was shout out nothing but dead air. It was as if I had the wind knocked out of me and I couldn’t speak.
I finally woke up to the sounds of sirens and people screaming. It was Armageddon outside. A gaggle of people were outside, each of them hooting and a hollering. Even with the wails of police sirens and the kaleidoscope of red and blue growing in size, the ruffians continued to partake in their illegal activities. I wouldn’t be so pissed off if I were awake at the time but these buffoons disturbed my sleep. This enraged me. Maybe I would be nicer if Freddy Krueger was creeping up on me with his glove in hand and they saved me but that isn’t the case. Krueger isn’t real. These kids are. They unleashed the Hulk in me.
With no respect for others, they broke out the stereo equipment and had their own Rockfest in their front yard. I’m all for all night partying. I do it but when I do, it’s in the comfort of my own home. It’s just me, a bottle of beer (or captain if I’m man enough) and my Internet to keep me company. I go outside and I see three…no four. Wait! Five! Yes, six squad cars surrounding one of the buildings like they were seal six staking out Bin Laden. This isn’t the first time and will not be the last time the cops are called to my complex. Some of the kids run away from the apartment before the police can arrive to control the situation. Others hopped in their cars and sped off. I don’t think they had gotten very far. The police were all over the place. I am sure they were stopped and booked for being complete douches.
Aside from the hooting and hollering, a girl is screaming. It could have been either a scream for help or a I’m a crazy white bitch scream. Putting my knowledge of Agatha Christie novels to use, I was like Hercule Poirot. I deducted that this hellish scream was in fact a, “let’s wake up the effin neighborhood” scream. At least one party guest was kind enough to care about the other tenants in the area and he politely asked her to, ‘shut the hell up, bitch’. Thank you, kind sir. I tip my non existent hat to you. You saved us all from permanent ear damage and also brought an end to the miracle ear stock.
I sit outside, dazed and confused. (alright alright, alright) The Boston Pops are as baffled as I am. We watch the ordeal unfold before us. We are all captivated by the police presence and their quick arrival. If I was to be truthful, their quick arrival was the most captivating. Too bad my local police force wasn’t on call in New Orleans six years ago. The cops were flashing their flashlights on them. They lined up the thugs and calmed them down. Pretty impressive for the GPD to wrangle these users and shut them the hell up. From where we were sitting we couldn’t make out much of the situation but it was clear that these kids weren’t getting a simple slap on the wrist. We waited and placed bets on when the paddy wagons would show up. How amazing would that be? Imagine seeing three or four wagons pull up, handcuff each individual and shove them (nicely I should add) inside the wagons.
We watch. We wait. We talk about the flea infestation and compare battle scars from their bites. It is unsure as to who brought these insects inside our dwelling. I had a short visit from an old friend. He brought his cat along. Being the animal lover that I am, I said it would be better and more humane to let the cat inside instead of keeping it locked in a car overnight. The Boston Pops were cat sitting a friend’s four-legged friend. My detective skills lacked here. We don’t know who brought this hell on us but they at least bombed their home. Good for them but bad for me. I still have yet to bomb my place. Thinking about it now, maybe since they have bombed their apartment, all the fleas decided to jump ship and choose my home to squat in. I know the Boston Pops are having a good laugh over this now. I figured out their plan. If it isn’t the Ghost of Carlos or the Dead Zombie Wife, it’s fleas. These blood sucking vermin now plague me. Could this have been the diabolical plan all along? The devil moves the Boston Pops in. I gain their trust. Then after the trust is gained and the fear of having my soul taken away, they strike. They unleash the fleas to not only only drain me of my blood but scar me for life, physically and emotionally. I should have never let my guard down. I need to act fast and kill these blood suckers before they kill me first.
How did I get off track? I am sorry about that. This post isn’t about the fleas. I am talking about the other parasites that is infesting my hood. Time ticks by. The money pot is still there and we have yet to see any wagons pull up. It’s about 1am now. The craziness is dying down. Some of the squad cars have left to either head back to the station or patrol our neighborhood. Some of the bothersome and trouble making tenants were told to leave. One by one, cars drove off. The party grew smaller and smaller, leaving just one person…
And then there was one. This chain smoking fool would come outside every five or so minutes. He has some balls I tell yeah. Still parked outside was a lone policeman or woman. I never did lift up their tail to see. This lone officer parked his vehicle on the right side of the street. His high beams on, he sat alone in his car filling out the countless reports him and his men had the dull task of doing. Maybe the lighting was not soothing where he was parked but he decided to move to the other side of the street to finish up with the reports. He is met up by other patrol car. They talk shortly. He still resides there parked conspicuously, hiding in the darkness ready to pounce of the unsuspecting people who think the coast is clear. When all seems fine, he turns off his beams and drives off in the distance. Another day on the job. Another neighborhood safe from the evil of those who disturb the peace.
But what is that? What comes out of the darkness? We spot a black Acura. It may have been white or green, or any other color. Since it was night time and things are dimly lit, everything looks black. So this mysterious Acura drives slowly by my and the Boston Pops apartment. It is like those movies you see when gang banging thugs drive slowly by someone before they pull out their glocks and end the life of those who might speak negatively about them. We were safe. We so no guns and didn’t get a talking to from the driver or passengers in the car. They have more important things to worry about. They had to pick up the stash they tossed out their window. Not wanting to head to prison who a narcotics charge, these ingenious people dropped their drugs in an empty lawn. After the police presence dispersed, they went to the drop point to retrieve the bag of goodies. We wanted to be good citizens and flag down a passing by patrol car but they didn’t stop. They ignored us cause I am sure he was thinking, ‘what the eff do they want? I have more important things to do.” I could be thinking too much into this. Maybe he didn’t ignore us cause he didn’t want to spend more time filling out statement. Maybe he just didn’t see us. We were tucked away behind some trees. He just didn’t see us. Plain and simple.
Still, it would have been awesome to see some drug dealers get busted. I mean we never did see any paddy wagons. That put a damper on the night. At least give us something to get excited about. Give us some action. Give us the gratitude of making our neighborhood safer and actually feel like we contributed to society. The only contribution we do for society is paying taxes. That’s not rewarding. Thanks a lot, officer. You ripped what little joy I had left in me that night. The Acura drove off. He made a few circles around the hood, presumably to lose the cops trail. He was gone. But remember the last party goer? That chain smoking fool thought it was safe to finally leave the scene of the crime and meet up with the others. Maybe he was looking for the Acura. That might have been his stash. Whatever reason it was, he was driving and ready to elude the police. He pulled out of the parking lot and made his way past us. A police car appears out of nowhere and follows him. The chain smoker makes a right and the cop follows. Who knows how many lefts and rights he made but in the distance, we could see the ominous glow of red and blue lights filling the darken sky. It was at that point we knew it was all over for smoking Joe Camel. All those constant hours of playing Grand Theft Auto didn’t pay off. He had been caught and was ready to pay the piper. Hopefully he isn’t a narc. Don’t want him turning in the Acura. No telling how tough those suburban gang bangers truly are.
The night was over. It was almost two in the morning. The cold, September night was getting to us. We both retreated back inside. I nestled myself back on the couch. I closed my eyes and hoped for a good night sleep. Sleeping is hard once you get awoken midway though your sleep cycle. I have every right to complain. They ruined my night and ruined my normal sleep schedule. I just hope that with my sleep pattern now out of whack, I can get it back to normal before I start my new job. If I am late, I will use this as an excuse. I just hope they buy it. Would suck to lose my job over something like this…unless this is the work of the witch. But that my friends, is a whole other story for another time.