Dogs and Gats

Cats and Dogs Eat Big Pickle Knights of Columbine



Reality: Last night I had the fortunate experience of witnessing the Knights of Ravenna.

Ravenna is a street in Seattle near the large hacky sack we like to call University of Washington. The knights come from all over the kingdom of Seattle to fight each other as only men and women can – underneath and interstate behind chain link within a park and ride. My latest accomplice, Lisa, had told me of this netherworld once while we were stoned on grass and gin. I suspected she was playing with my emotions as women do. But, alas, I found the rumor to be true last night when I received a call from her restating the story and inviting me to have a look.

Spilling dishwater on my pants I realized that I was ill prepared – I wasn't drunk enough to interact with the species of man that would revert to Camelot theatrics to…what? Impress women? Get gay in the dead of night? Battle for Fremont? Ballard? Well, Lisa was out front before I could get a grip on the situation and I decided that last night would be a preliminary run and that next week I would try to interview the Knights and find out just what they were up to. But, for then, it was just a photoshoot. The "photos" are below (albeit blurry). I dared not to get up close and anger the knights as they were armed with swords and large shields with crests that would impress that bag of shit Queen in England.

The participants were all ages, all genders (all two), and may have been all races and creeds (it was dark and Lisa refused to check if they were circumcised).

They fought like Knights, so, you know…I mean, it looked like practical medieval fighting to me. How would one know? I've seen movies and this looked much like them.

They'd get to a center in the park and ride and begin dueling it out like knights of old until one would drop to their knees and kind of put their shield up in some admission of defeat.

Off to the side there were people fencing, I'm not sure if they were with the Knights, but they were dressed up as fencers, rather than knights.

And these knights were decked to the nines. They had the helmets, the shields, full armor; the whole bit.

Lisa refused to let me pretend I was a college reporter and interview them.

Next week I will if I can get drunk enough before eight and find an accomplice. If anyone has any interest and a video camera, feel free to email me at reckert6122@comcast.net.

I stuck around for a good ten minutes, driving in circles to get the best shots. There appeared to be a coach and more and more warriors were showing up as we left.

It was definitely akin to the Thunderdome.

But, there was something spooky about knights fighting it out in a major city underneath an interstate in the cold, dark night.

If I would have happened upon this with no warning I would have killed myself as I would be assured I would never get a surprise that surprising again.

So, Wednesday, Ravenna, 8ish – come watch what I dub the must see battle of the century.



Not Reality: Somewhere near the window, souls are dropping like flies from the sky. A door opens in the wall and a green light peaks out. A man steps from behind the door, dressed in a tuxedo and a bow tie. He bows and his right leg tweaks up to his left knee and he grins "Welcome."

A word flashes through my mind and that word is Skinwalker. I don't know where it came from.

From the front page of yester group of soldiers day's daily there From the front was a shot of a large, black wraith escaping a group of soldiers in Syria.

Another story I like to tell the tribesman was about how I used to make Coca Cola more potent by adding a drop of liquid barbed wire. You'd take a sip and wreck your genitals.

Of course I entered the door as the souls on my left and right fell down the building.

"The souls are coming down tonight" the man grinned.

I agreed "It's a a soul."

"You don't want yours?"

answer; I knew what he wanted and I wanted the abilities of Steve McQueen and Jim Morrison before I was going to give up the slack fit of anger that God put in my body.

In other news tribal spokesman Kim Chee Longbeard Nagoo Running Bull Bill Wilson, wait I'm not finished, Kim Shee Shun Longbeard (again) Jackson appeared shaken at the news that his casino was now I didn't, but I bad day to have didn't state property and that his soul was now circling Pluto at 8749 MPH.

That's what happens when you trust white men.

So pure.

My Holy Alter toilet sends men to their doom. Read more in my latest addition to this list of groceries I like to call Satan's Almanac.

"Yeah, it's down there. It's not really that bad. There's a lot of work a good man could do. You interested?"

"In going to hell?"

"No, Atlanta."

"Oh, maybe. Maybe sometime."
"K, the fares run out this month, though."

"I understand. Where are we going?"

"Why, Hell of course."

"Why not."

"Yeah, why not."

"It's over here somewhere. Ah, here we go."

Walking through this green umbilical has become boring and I've decided that I'm excited to see Hell. "This is Hell?"

The door opens to a playground in the middle of parking lot.

"Whoops. Nope, this is Atlanta. Wanna go here instead?"

"Nay." There's no way anyone could talk me into going to Atlanta. Detroit and L.A. are on that list too.

"K, it's this door. I'm sorry."

Later in the evening I watched on the news and they told me all about the ancient Navajo religion that's totally peanuts, man. Man, you can't read about that shit, you's gots to see it on the TV or it makes no sense. It's like those pin point people that come at night and try to make you understand geometry from the X dimension. So, it's like this guy's all raving about how the ancient Navajo are really from this X dimension and that's where all these rumors of war came from.

Deep in the Navajo mind is a man that plays on fears and eats ghosts. They call him Hushmouth. He's presented as a nine foot black wraith with red glowing eyes.

A Skinwalker is a rogue medicine man and he has the ability to shape change and

It is not clear how he manages to do this, using only the most rudimentary herbs and roots, but

It's quite clear that that jaguar is none other than the

They preyed on their tribesman and sold fear until their collective destruction when they created th3e white men who carried cursa; and afdgolloWARNING: seek the woods.

"This isn't Hell."

"No, not in the sense you know of. But, it is what your stories were based on."

"It's incomprehensible."

"Makes your head hurt, huh?"

"Who are you?"

"Oh, the one that got away."
"A Skinwalker?"
"You know, I've never really liked the sound of that. I prefer Man of Fear."
"I'm not very scared."

"You wouldn't be. But, I'm not into that now. I'm more into this damn place. It's addicting. You think you have your bearings and then they throw something new at you. Like how my arm is now intersecting my finger and my birth happens three minutes away, all the time."

"Tough to swallow."

"You bet."

"So, I don’t really exist?"

"Why would you?"