I lied...

Remember that part where I said I wouldn't post here anymore because of the Entropy Project's conclusion? Yeah. Well, I had to include this, because it's kinda funny in a sick way.

The DH ran into our neighbors down the street, who had a semi-update on the Demise of Beavis. The story going around now is that Beavis was canoodling with a girl whose boyfriend was in jail. Said girl got pregnant and told the jailbird boyfriend that the baby was his. The jailbird boyfriend bought the story. Then the baby was born. With Beavis blond hair.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOPS.

And we know what happened from there.

Now, murder is murder, and I don't condone that AT ALL. 

HOWEVER, if the above rumor is true, it somehow makes the Beavis story more...ludicrous. And more typically Beavis. He was a dude that made bad decisions no matter how you slice it.

What's Wrong With This Picture?

No, seriously, what's wrong with this picture?

I'll wait...

Did you guess that the Work Truck from Hell is gone? As in, FINALLY FUCKING GONE?!

It disappeared one weekend in late February or so.

We figured Beavis had gotten himself arrested AGAIN and finally hit some Three Strikes threshold and was sent to prison FOR REALZ. We didn't see him around, at any rate. We assumed that there was no way the Work Truck would have been gotten rid of unless Beavis wasn't coming back for a looooong time.

Big Daddy was seen wandering around outside a little bit sometimes. Ma Barker wasn't visible, but occasionally one could hear her voice through the metal screen door. Little Sister and the Nub were present on a much more regular basis. Was Ma Barker sick? Ellie Mae occasionally visited. We'd hear her crying from some sort of temper tantrum inside the Beavisphere occasionally. She would sometimes be seen outside, but not very often. Overall, the Beavisphere was the most subdued I'd ever encountered since the last time Beavis was in jail.

So, SO quiet.

BLISSFULLY quiet.

Last week we found out why.

I was on my morning jog when one of our neighbors down the street was driving to work and pulled over to talk to me. He says, Did you hear about Beavis? No, I reply. He was murdered a few months ago, the neighbor says. We found out about it from one of our other neighbors down the street, but they said that he was Latino, so we didn't believe it until we found a news blog online that had a photo of him. It's definitely him, and he's definitely dead.

HOLY CRAP! NO FREAKIN' WAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Way.

Beavis was shot multiple times while sitting in a stolen Lexus about five miles away in Playa Vista in early February. It happened around 7am on a Friday morning while my sister and I were in the UK. No leads, no suspects. Maybe not gang related, but there are some interesting online rumors flying about what caused him to be in the wrong place at the wrong time facing the wrong end of a gun.

Comments about his involvement in drugs, trying to be a "badass", what a "standup homie" he was, he may have set fire to a truck the night before, how he loved to surf, he had a gun stuffed into the waistband of his pants, that someone needs to "fess up" with information about the shooting so that his family could have closure.

The story is fascinating. He being labeled a Latino by the coroner. I don't think I've seen him drive a car of any sort in at least two years, but he was behind the wheel of the stolen car his body was found in. Bullet casings were found on the ground next to the car. Even his age was in dispute; initial reports said he was 29. He wasn't; he was 34.

He and 40 Miles of Bad Road have three daughters together. They were engaged. He has two older sons from a different woman living in Hawaii. I remember when he moved to Hawaii with her after the first kid was born. He didn't stay away long. He never did. He always came back to the Beavisphere.

It's weird to read other sad comments on the news sites. The typical "he died too young", "he was great to talk to" (a popular phrase from women), "I hope he's finally at peace",  "he was a good guy" type of thing. I never saw any of those aspects of him; apparently neither did any of the other neighbors near the Beavisphere. I don't think the neighbor who had Beavis threaten one of his friends liked him. Or the neighbor who had Beavis drunkenly crash through their garage door. Or the childhood neighbors who apparently had items stolen from them by Beavis. And of course, us.

That damn work truck. The parties. Hitting my car when he drunkenly backed out of the Beavisphere driveway late at night and roared off into the night. Probably the time my car was broken into when I was working in Texas. The lurking outside in the middle of the night, constantly on the phone. The creepy drug customers. The empty bottles of beer left on our lawn. The fights with his girlfriends, especially 40 Miles of Bad Road. The infamous cabinet-hinge throwing incident. The Crappy Caddy full of junk. He always sounded confrontational, even when playing with his own children.

I'd be lying if I said that I never wished he'd go away FOREVER. But I can't say I truly wished death upon him. Even though I knew that if he inherited the Beavisphere, the neighborhood never would've been able to get rid of him. And our lives would've continued to be hellish. To me, FOREVER meant either he would find another woman who lived far, FAR away to go do his Beavis-y activities with, or he'd end up in jail for life. Death? Well, a possibility, but honestly? Never thought his luck would run out that way.

Is it for the best? For the neighborhood, yes. For his children, maybe. For his parents, definitely not for Ma Barker. But it's chilling to know that whomever killed him is out there. Free. More free than Beavis ever could be. But in the end I think Beavis reaped what he sowed.

With the painful harvest comes the end of needing this blog. Which is bad for entertainment and venting purposes, but good for the neighborhood's quality of life. I do feel bad for his kids.

And with that, I bid a goodbye full of mixed emotions. 

Now you can recommend your favorite Neighbors From Hell blogs to me for a change.

The Cycle Starts Again...

Beavis was kept under fairly severe wraps since he got out of jail, but he's starting to revert back to his usual Beavisesque ways.

The main manifestation of this is his late night loitering in front of the Beavisphere. He's constantly on the phone. I usually see him when I get home from practice, pacing on the sidewalk, talking loudly.

Occasionally the latest dumb idiot girl who thinks she can make a man out of him will be there, too. She drives a huge SUV and is a petite brown-haired girl. I think I saw her before Beavis' most recent trip to the pen, so she's stone cold stupid to stick around this long. I have to come up with a good nickname for her, unless Stone Cold Stupid sticks.

Little Sister and the Nub are often visiting. I hardly see Ellie Mae. I don't think she's old enough for preschool, and I don't think she's figured out how to run away from home...yet.

I imagine life will get "interesting" again in a few months.

O NOES

Beavis is back.

He's skinnier and stands taller compared to when we saw him last, but he's definitely back.

I'm sure this blog will perk up soon.

DAMMIT.

Still Quiet...

Beavis is still in jail.

Ellie Mae is occasionally seen on her tricycle in the front yard of the Beavisphere, all alone. Big Daddy and Ma Barker gave Ellie Mae a hideous haircut...her long, blonde baby hair locks are gone. She has a short boyish cut that doesn't suit her at all.

A couple of weeks ago I walked to the mailbox. On the way back, I see Ellie Mae on her usual trike in her usual spot on the Beavisphere driveway. She looks over at me, and blows a raspberry. I had to laugh...that poor kid! I'd be wanting to blow myself up if I had a family like hers who gave me a shitty haircut!

Gugh!!!!!!

Yesterday I woke up extremely cranky and upset.

Why?

I dreamed about Beavis.

NO SHIT.

In real life, he's still not around...I assume he's still in jail. Ellie Mae is occasionally seen with Big Daddy, and an exceptionally rare glimpse of Ma Barker is caught every once in a blue moon.

But apparently my subconscious is bugging me.

I dreamt that Beavis was out of jail and out to kill me.

NO SHIT.

While I was sitting at home freaking out about this, I then dreamt that Ma Barker and Ellie Mae came to the house and gave me a Yorkshire Terrier puppy as an apology.

NO SHIT.

I then suddenly woke up.

I have no idea what the dream means, but it creeps me out.

*sigh*

I haven't seen Beavis since just before Halloween.

I think he's in jail.

The DH has seen Ellie Mae a little bit with Big Daddy in the front yard of the Beavisphere, but she's kept close to home and basically under wraps.

Last Saturday I decided to take a photo of the Work Truck From Hell in all its degenerating glory:
















All of the blankets and junk piled on it makes it a piece of borderline sculpture. The Joads have nothing on this.


While I was doing this, I heard the cries of a dog. There's a lot of dogs in the neighborhood and they'll bark happily or whine petulantly, but this was a sad, pained cry.

My Seestir was with me, and we look around and spot Big Daddy's dog lying in the neighbor's yard. For the sake of this blog, we'll call him, "Schlitz". Schlitz is an old dog. An OLD dog. He was around when the DH and I first moved into the neighborhood in '96, and he was an adult dog at that time.

Schlitz is a constant companion to Big Daddy. The one critter that didn't give Big Daddy a lot of grief in his life, I imagine. Man's Best Friend and all that.

But now Schlitz is in bad shape. I had noticed Schlitz out in the yard earlier in the day, but didn't think too much of it at the time. However, upon closer inspection, it's obvious that Schlitz is not doing well. When a dog just lies and cries, he needs to be taken care of.
















The Seestir goes to the neighbor's house and asks them if they know about Schlitz being in their yard. They say yes, and that they've asked Big Daddy about taking better care of Schlitz, but that Big Daddy doesn't do anything to really help the dog. The neighbors are older folks themselves, and don't have the strength to move a large Labrador in pain to a car to take him to a vet.

Damn.

So we call Animal Control to report a neglected animal. They take down the information and say they're going to send an officer out. We wait around for about a half hour, but we had errands to run, so we left.

We come back home about an hour and a half later. Schlitz is still lying in the neighbor's yard, but Big Daddy is seen hobbling around on a cane in the Beavisphere front yard. Big Daddy doesn't look much better than Schlitz, actually. We have no idea if Animal Control stopped by in our absence, but we watch in uncomfortable silence as Big Daddy slowly meanders over to Schlitz and tries to get the dog to come home.

Schlitz doesn't move.

Big Daddy lifts Schlitz up on his feet. Schlitz is unsteady. He wags his tail forlornly and falls back to the ground. Big Daddy goes back to the Beavisphere, gets a large towel, hobbles back to Schlitz, and constructs a makeshift sling to put under Schlitz's torso so that the dog can be brought back to the Beavisphere. Which is done slowly and painfully.

Once Schlitz is back home, Ma Barker comes out with Ellie Mae. Ma Barker takes some of the many blankets off of the Work Truck From Hell and sets up a makeshift fort for Schlitz. Both Big Daddy and Ma Barker are too decrepit to take the dog inside the house. Schlitz is settled down and left in his fort.

He cries at night. I call the cops, but they forward me to Animal Control again. All I get is a vague typical government bureacratic voice mail. FUCK! Big Daddy eventually comes out to sit with the dog.

Next day, same scenario. Don't try to get anything from any government agency on a weekend, kids. NOTHING will happen.

Monday, Big Daddy is seen sitting with Schlitz, crying.

That night Schlitz and his fort are gone.


I almost feel bad for Big Daddy, but I feel worse for Schlitz.