June 12, 2002

(This was written on 8/9/1998, reprinted from Captain Blood's Secret Rant -n- Rave Archives)

When I moved to a first floor apartment in Astoria back in 1986, there was this wacked out old lady with Tourette's Syndrome, who'd push a shopping cart up our block at odd times.

I once recorded her from the window. Here are bits of her banter:

"Three o'clock in the morning, throwing a glass out the window!...You dirty rotten whore!...Hey! What is this?? What are you doing?! Where are you hiding?!! Get out of my clock, you bastard!!!...The way god lives! The way the American Flag lives! [at this point she stopped the cart and began clapping]...I'll put your dead casket behind bars - and THAT'S too good for you!!!"She came up in conversation in the laundry room many years later. My neighbour reported: "She has a filthy mouth, but on the first of the month, she knows enough to be on line at the bank for her Social Security, cursing up a storm!"

This tall, mangy Black guy in a long, white cotton dress, carrying on incoherently save for a few escaping profanities. You stayed away from him when HE was on the scene. My former roommate and I still recall at times the day he was scavenging in the tracks on the opposite side of a Manhattan station, doing his usual volatile spouting.

We have only one noticeable oddball in my new community. This no-life looking character schleps around wearing this T-shirt with his own caricature in permanent marker. There's a velour tongue sewn on the mouth, sticking out at everyone.
New: He has a multitude of these T-shirts placing his caricature in any number of scenarios (he was once a cherub, another time Linus in a cynical parody of the Peanuts gang). He wears these shirts 365 days a year in public over a thermal top. I think he lives with his mother.

DD 1:46pm EST on Wednesday, Jun 12, 2002

June 11, 2002

Although our ethical policies had won us as many admirers as enemies, if I'd have known what would have occurred, I would never have made a team. Then the stress with Bitch and Primadona would not have occurred, neither would the irritating behind-the-back shenanigans with Teen, and of course Nutcase would never have entered the picture.

But most of all, my best friend would still be in my life. He just disappeared. And those who asked him about the matter say he would immediately change the subject. I really think that freak told him I was some sort of lesbian. It reeks of her wicked handiwork.

He was the first and only person to send me a fan letter (well ok I got fanmail under my pseudonym for my adult work, but that didn't count). We were both in an APA (or amateur press alliance) geared towards comic books. This particular collective consisted of mostly industry professionals. When the Internet started up, I got him hooked, and he became my buddy and partner, running two chatrooms (I had one for Errol Flynn fans who visited the website). This was about 1997, so he also got into the IRC Acro with me. And out of it until Acrophobia came along. We'd met several times when he hopped from PA to NYC on business. We even collaborated on some humorous comics for the APA.

I really thought one day something more would come of it. Or hoped. Then, he moved to the west coast and I saw a lot less of him online. Then the whole incident with the team. I think discovering him on Nutcase & Primadona's team was the day I vowed never to get involved in a relationship ever again. It still hurts to think about it.

Life with no life isn't so bad now. I've become a pseudo Trekkie, the stress is down a LOT. I think the only time I really wish I wasn't alone was the night of September 11th. It was so deadly quiet outside with nothing in the skies or on the streets. I actually set up a little area in a corner of the bed for my pets to join me. We were all still there by morning.

Anyway, they ruined my life. But most of all, he ruined my life.

DD 12:46pm EST on Tuesday, Jun 11, 2002

June 9, 2002

And I thought my story was weird. It's good to know that fiction can still be stranger than truth at times!

Still, one has to wonder about the implications of taking on a persona who looks and sounds like a living actor. I've never run into it before, and before I knew the finer nuances of Yahoo Messenger's privacy settings, I got a lot of people asking me whether I was Robert Picardo. Like the man has nothing better to do than sit at home on his free days and play the Doctor online. Forget the kids, convention appearances, career commitments... [more]

DD 10:51pm EST on Sunday, Jun 9, 2002