18- A Mad Lad In A Mad Pad

I love the fucking Beatles, you know? I was big fans of em since, you know, When I’m Sixty-Four. I think that was the first time I ever heard their music and I was in love absolutely instantly. I had managed to completely avoid them until that song played on the radio. What a wonderful piece of music, what a wonderful album, what a wonderful band!

I remember the night I found out that Mr. Lennon had been shot and killed. I was absolutely heartbroken, I felt cold all over, I honestly believed my heart had simply stopped in its place. I think back on it at times and I feel like if my heart had stopped that very day, I might not have minded it. But that wouldn’t be what Mr. Lennon would be wanting, right? I mean he was a right self-pretentious prick, right, but his heart was in the goodest of places, yeah? And even the most pretentious of folk don’t deserve to be gunned down like that, in front of his wife, right there in the street. That wasn’t the revolution he was singing about, killing the singers like that for no reason.

That man what gunned down Mr. Lennon is no better than that Manson fellow, you know? Misunderstanding the songs of such wonderful voices like the mop-tops, inciting hate and violence, what a bloody thing all that, absolutely a waste. Don’t even know how you exactly do that, you know? How do you misrepresent the Beatles, right, like? It’s all right there in the open, it isn’t hard to know they’re singing about love and peace and romance and caring for one another and having fun. Revolution is a little ambiguous to be fair, but everything else is right there, naked as a baby, plain to see.

There was a shooting in the apartment below mine just the other week. Lotta shouting and screeching and such. “I won’t let that THING in my apartment,” they was saying. Someone was anyway. The shot synced up with my drum beat, I remember.

I own the Beatles discography on vinyl and I was playing Sgt. Peppers, you know? I’d made it all the way to the reprise, second to last, yeah. About a minute deep into the song? Right at the 53 second mark, the


Drum beat, BANG!

I’m very proud of my vinyl collection of Beatles records, you’ve never really heard the Beatles until you’ve heard them playing through vinyl. It’s really a wonderful, other worldly experience. I swear that I was sitting there and practically floating to heaven. Honestly if you ever get the chance, take it.

And you know, I wasn’t the biggest fan of A Hard Day’s Night, you know? It’s a fine album but it’s not the very best of their work, but you can’t deny providence, and I remember when providence delivered that vinyl to me. I remember it was the last one I needed in my collection but when I couldn’t find it at any stores I had to settle that maybe my collection would never be complete. But then my plane crashed I wandered through the Gobi Desert and there I found it! Buried atop a sand dune I found a dusty jacket for A Hard Day’s Night and a perfect, pristine pressed vinyl. It was everything I had ever dreamed it could be. I remember after I made the hard walk across the land to Beijing, I flew home and added it to my collection.

Anyway where I was was I was mentioning that there was some shooting in the apartment beneath me. Now, I’m right along Gun Hill Rd so I’m not surprised, you get me? It’s in the name, I moved here because I wanted it, but this was different. After the shots, my record was moving into A Day In The Life. Then I heard the shoutin’ start back up again and the whispering.
I went out to my balcony and looked down tryna get a few into the below apartment, really craning my neck to find out what was happening.

From the balcony below me, this snake head was coming out, really just stretching out. Looked like a really, really thick python. It twisted its head around and there it was, the face of this woman on this snake neck, stretching further and further out. Then I heard more shots. “Why did you let it in?” I hear screaming. The neck retracts back into the apartment.

Now it’s that really dense part of A Day In The Life where it’s just sounds and sounds layering on each other about starting at about a minute fifty seconds into the song. I was calling the police.

And I remember when I watched the police interrupt that Beatles rooftop concert in ‘69, so I’ve always hated the police you best believe me, so it was a very big deal for me to call on them. They live down the street and they seemed to take it as a threat and they arrived by the time I’d reset Sgt. Pepper’s as I’d wanted to listen to it again.

I heard more screaming and it sounded like something was bashing against the ceiling and the dust was flying off of my walls, but since last wednesday I haven’t heard anything particular about it. So I’ve just assumed it was done with.

My local music shop used to carry vinyls but now the only way I can get vinyls is from the special pre-orders for albums and I find that utterly depressing because what if the album ends up being awful, you know? And if I decide to wait on it and I find out that the album was AMAZING but all the vinyls have been sold out and the limited presses are done, then i’m scouring the internet for the people selling them for double or triple the prices. And I don’t know why they can’t make an amount of vinyls with the express purposes of selling them in stores. And some bands can afford to do it and then you end up finding them in like Barnes and Noble or some such, but it just isn’t the same when there’s only a select few bands you can do it with.

But at the very least, at least you can find the posters for bands and their albums at my music store, even if they quite carrying vinyls. I also collect posters and I put them up on my walls, always album covers for the vinyl. So it was quite annoying when the dust was flying out of my walls and the force from underneath was knocking my posters down.

I heard a lot of hoses blasting water down yesterday and I assume that there was them down there removing what I probably figure was blood on the walls. But when I’m thinking of blood I always think of that, you know that picture Ms. Ono took of Mr. Lennon’s glasses after he died, all smattered in blood, I think of that when I think of blood, so it’s been pretty often given the last few years we’ve had, though I never actually listened to Ms. Ono’s album that that picture was connected to, though I’ve heard if you like her work you’ll like that album but all I know of her work is Revolution 9 with Mr. Lennon on The Beatles (1968) and while I very much enjoyed that song I never particularly wanted to go seeking out more of the music much like that since why would I want more when I have the pinnacle of them right there on this album?

Anyway, anyway, I did my civic duty and called the police, and the police did arrive and I know I heard a lot of “What is that thing?” and “Did you shoot it, did you shoot it?” and “Did it do that to your wife?” and “this is arma-fuckin’-geddon.” But since that nice new family moved in on Monday I think everything turned out just fine.

19- An Allosaurus In The Storm Drain

17- A Needle In A Haystack