I gave Danny back his comic book...

the day he came home. I told him he owed me a fake hundred dollar bill. He had Jen photocopy five twenties all on one sheet of paper.

And I guess everything is okay now. I didn't mean to leave you hanging about Brian. He's moving kind of slow, but he's home and up and he comes into work now and again slowly picking up steam. But not too much, he is Weezer, you know.

Maricel clipped newpaper articles and burned copies of the TV news stories to disc to show her aunt that I was a great guy. I thought it showed I had one badass girlfriend.

But I think things may be getting back to normal. Whatever normal is around here.

I've got some new stuff up in the Ebay store. I think you'll be impressed. If you print the coupon off the website, you can get a ten percent discount on any action figure all of next month.

See you in the funny papers...
Simon Wolfe
Wolfe's Den Comics

Jen bullied him into talking to a surgeon...

about his arms.
"You're basically helpless as it is." She said. "Do you think a little mobility in your arms might come in handy."
Danny was tired and he gave in and he let them do tests. They're looking at doing after the first of next year. They want him to fully recover from being malnourishe and tourtured.
I used the press to get his wheelchair delivery on the fastrack. The sad story of his stolen wheelchair and the long wait for a new one played well in the media. He got a bunch of offers of monetary help, but money was something he had. I suppose that getting his Ibot delivered means some other poor guy or gal is without one. I hope that person hasn't been through anything nearly as awful as Danny.

I am so tired of hospitals...

I was sitting there holding his hand when Jen showed up...

He was scared, so freaking scared. Every noise terrified him.
"Should I leave you two lovebirds alone?" She said from the doorway.
Jen was skinnier since college and someone had taught her to wear makeup.
"Hop in." Danny said, his voice perking up. "Make a threesome."
"I don't want to be the filling in a dork sandwich." Jen relaxed a little as she realized she wasn't going to get pushed away. I let go of his hand and got up to give her the chair I was sitting in. Jen sat down and took his hand and pretty much didn't move from that spot again. She stayed with him all day and they couldn't even get her out at night. Sometimes she went over to his house and took a shower and worked on straightening the place up. We got a professional cleaning crew in there, fixed the elevator and did what we could to make the place seem like his house instead of the palce he was locked up. The cops got most of his books back. Donald and Susan had been hauling them off to storage in contemplation of taking them away in a truck. They thought it would draw attention if the parked a U-Haul at Danny's back door. Since they drained his bank account with a VISA check card and some forged checks, he really hadn't lost any money. They didn't make customers pay for fraud. Nothing was missing but his piece of mind...

The police got there pretty quickly I guess...

It seemed like it forever before I was done talking to the police and could just go to the damn hospital with Danny. It was very helpful when Ellen showed up to vouch for me. Even better than the kidnapping victim insisting I'd rescued him. FINALLY rescued him. Fatboy and Heather/Susan got a ride over to the hospital same as Danny. She had a slight contusion from falling into a wall and he'd had the living crap kicked out of him. I had some bruised ribs if anyone cares, but I'll be okay. Danny was sick with penumonia, malnourished and damn near crazy. And I was the only one there to look out for him.

Susan Jablonski had been sent over by a home health care agency to work as a nursing assistant and caregiver for Danny. But she and her shifty boyfriend had gotten other ideas. They knew Danny had money, so keeping him prisoner seemed like a great idea. They had quickly drained his checking and he had convinced them that there was just no freaking way to get to the principal without him going to a lawyer's office. Then Donald Holzinger (as fat blonde dredlocked boy was better known) had decided to find out if some of the comics were valuable. So he sold one worth more than a hundred grand to my cousin for a fake hundred dollar bill. When Susan had figured that the comics were kind of valuable, she got really pissed. Of course, then I showed up and started asking questions and ruined everything. Fake e-mails could only work for so long. There were a few of us who actually cared about Danny and would eventually insist on seeing him in person. They sold his wheelchair. Although this thing was so advanced it was known as a mobility system. The damn thing was great. He could go up a few stairs, raise up to reach things. So I had to figure out how to get a thirty thousand dollar wheelchairs that usually has a month or more wait delivered ASAP.

The headline in the paper said COMIC BOOK HERO. I was a hero and all for allowing my girlfriend to beat up a kidnapper. But Danny said to go for the publicity for the sake of the store and even talked to the TV stations which surprised me. The publicity absolutely freaked out the home healthcare agency. Which you'll noticed I didn't name because of the terms of the settlement. Without a word from Danny's lawyer, their insurance company was ready to pony up an undisclosed amount.

When I gave interviews, I always lied and said that Weezer was suspcious of the valuable comic book with a hundred dollar price tag and had purchased it so that we could track down the real owner. I can be nice, you know.

It was Danny...

Lying on the floor in absolute filth, surrounded by empty Slim Fast cans and water bottles. There was nothing in the room but trash and the windows had been covered with a dark sheet that had been taped over. But he was alive and thrashing about helplessly.
"Oh dear God." I said dropping to my knees beside him. "I thought I was going to find your mummified corpse."
"Get me out." He said. He had a couple of months worth of nasty beard growth and his yes were red and runny. He smelled like absolute hell.
"I'll get 9-1-1 and the cops..."
"No, just get me out." He gasped. It sounded like he had a good repiratory infection going. "I'll go crazy just drag me out of here."
"Where the hell's your wheelchair?" I asked.
"Said she sold it." He whined. That was not like Danny. "Just get me outside. I wanna go outside."
"Do it." Maricel said.
"I don't want to hurt you." I said looking around the room in complete disbelief.
"I might get parazlyed." He said. "I know I'm disgusting, but please."
I tossed her the phone. "Get 9-1-1." And I slipped my arms under his and hauled him up as best I could to start dragging him out.
"Took you long enough." He said.
"I'm a moron." I said. "Lucky for you Jen's a little smarter than me and my girlfriend is smarter than both of us. These stairs are gonna hurt. They busted the elevator."
"I almost wiggled away." He said. "Bolt on the outside of the door and broke the elevator. I don't care if it hurts."
"Hurt me, you dummy." I said. "You haven't lost that much weight on Slimfast."
Maricel was direct on the phone. "I've got an injured kidnapping victim. I need police and an ambulance." She said. "Where the hell are we?"
I gave her the address to repeat to the cops. She was a couple of steps ahead of me, so she saw the big fat dreadlocked jackass a second before I did. I was rounding the bend of the stairs with Danny in my hands. I was screwed.
Then my baby doll made the most bad-ass move I've ever seen. She dropped flat down on her ass reared back and kicked the SOB with both of her legs as hard as she could sending him backwards down the steps. Then she popped up, jumped over me and Danny and ran back upstairs. I let go of Danny on the landing and did something I never imagined I could actually do. I don't know if you've every heard of a Berserker Rage. But it's like that scene in X-Men 2 where Wolverine jumps onto a group of soldiers and just starts slashing. Well I jumped down the stairs onto Fat Guy. I figured he'd be a soft place to land and probably a little sore from being stabbed and kicked by my old lady. I can't punch for nothing, so I was scratching and biting like a little girl. I even pulled out one of his stupid blond dreds. He was hard to keep down, like a big bull elephant you'd managed to piss off instead of kill. He flipped us both over with his fat ass on top ready to beat the crap out of me. We rolled out onto the floor and I heard someone run, jump over Danny and land hard on the stairs. Then she came out literally swinging one of Danny's old baseball bats that he kept from college. She was going Al Capone in the Untouchables on him. Thought she only hit him once in the head. She screamed as she busted on his arms and legs and she was so damn fast, he didn't know what to do. I rolled out from under him and struggled to me feet just in time to catch Susan/Heather out of the corner of my eye. She was about to dive in like me. I snatched hold of her hair like the freaking sissy I obviously am and threw her back against the wall. I've never hit a girl, not even on the playground, but
I could have killed her for what she did to Danny. I probably should have helped Maricel, but I didn't want to get in between that bat and its screaming target. Danny had sort of slid down the stairs head first and he was lying there smiling.

Somebody took the key from under the flowerpot...

So I had to go to plan B and just pry open one of the kitchen windows. Not really that hard when you happen to know that the latches are missing from the kitchen windows and that somebody wanted to find hardware that matched the rest of the house before he let me put them on. It was during the course of bickering with Danny about hardware that I realized I needed a girlfriend. I climbed up on a garbage can and shoved my fat behind through the window and then I opened the door and let Maricel in. She thought I should have let her skinny self go in the window. But I thought I'd be manly and go first. I made a quick sweep of the downstairs and noticed that his comic room had been nearly cleaned out. But no body.
"Check this out." Maricel said nodding to the small elevator that had been installed to get Danny between floors. It was more of a chair lift than an elevator, really just big enough for his chair. The mechanism to operate it had been busted. It looked like someone had taken a hammer to it.
I went up the stairs with a knot in my stomach. Something didn't smell good, but I didn't think it was a corpse smell. Danny's bedroom was obviously being occupied by someone else. There was girl crap all over the place. Maricel had opened the door to a smaller room and she screamed out my name. My hands suddenly shook violently, but I got ahold of myself and got over there. What I saw was awful.

Maricel saw her first...

She grabbed me the arm and pulled me back behind a garage out of sight. Heather/Susan was putting a short box of comics into the back of a car. A full long box might have been a challenge for a woman to carry. She drove away and I turned to Maricel.
"I gotta get in there now. I don't know if the police will go in if I call them. They'll probably come knock on the door. I might be able to get Ellen..."
"Are you sure you want to go in?" She said.
"Cause I'll probably find his body." I said. "Yeah, I think I owe him that much don't I?"
"Can you get in?" She asked.
"I can get into an old house." I said. "If I give you my phone..."
"Screw that." She said. "I'm going with you. I'm not Betty Brant, I'm Lois Lane."
"I am so going to marry you." I said.
"Well, of course you are."

"I don't know..."

I told Maricel. I don't know if he got pissed and left town and somebody stole his comic book. But something isn't right. I'm looking at his email and it's stuff that really only Danny would say, but it's not right, I don't know why. I can't tell if he's mad or..."
"You want me to look at it?" She offered. "Maybe you're just too close. Why don't you make some coffee?"
So I did, the good stuff. I ground the beans, made the coffee and even frothed some milk.
"You're right." Marciel said. "And I think I know what you see. You have a separate file for his correspondence, I see."
"Right above you." I said.
"I'm searching his e-mails for some phrases, because what I see here is something I've seen a lot of over the years."
"What?" I asked.
"What things look like when you copy bits and pieces from other sources and try to stick them together without bothering to rework it. Basic plagarism, my darling. Only not on a school paper. And what do you know..."
"What?"I asked putting down a latte in what had become Maricel's Wonder Woman mug beside her.
"I found the source for this paragraph. Two year old message. And let's see about this little Wolverine reference. " She took a sip of her coffee. "Hell yes. This is cobbled together out of old messages. He didn't write these last three e-mails. No way, no how. Somebody just went back and cut and pasted."
"Hell." I said. "I'm so stupid."
"You're not stupid." She said.
"I was thinking about you, I was worried abou Brian. I didn't see it."
"One more thing." Maricel said and she opened the Google search engine. She typed in Heather Carver Toledo and came up with only Heather Carvers in other states. Then she asked what the common spelling of Jablonski was and put in Susan Jablonski Toledo. And that took her to Susan Jablonki's MySpace page with a big picture of the girl I knew as Heather Carver smiling back at me.
Internet genius that I am, I had never even bothered to frickin' google her.
Figuring that sweat pants and a T-shirt counted as dressed, I put my damn shoes on and picked up my phone.
"Screw it." I said. "I'm goin' over there."
"Give me a second." Maricel said. And in literally five of them, she'd pulled on a pair of jeans and was slipping on her shoes as we went. I called Ellen, because I thought she'd better be able to understand what the hell I was saying about Danny than if I started from scratch with a cop. I left a pretty frantic message as I walked. In the early morning darkness we cut across the playground of the school behind my store and over to the alley that ran behind Danny's house.

I could not sleep...

I wondered if Danny thought that somehow I knew about Jen. Maybe put her up to finding him since I was so big into my Internet romance. Jen couldn't sleep either, because I was looking at Danny's forum at five in the morning and she was there, too. I e-mailed her and asked if she thought he might think that somehow we were conspiring against him.
"Maybe." She answered. "He wasn't mad at you before he found out about me. He was just waiting for you to come over so he could show you something. He spent a freaking fortune on Detective Comics..."
"Thirty-eight." I said aloud before I read it. "Oh my God." I said it loudly enough to wake Maricel.
"What?" She came out of the bedroom in a panic.
"Something's wrong." I said.

I could see why Danny might feel like hiding out...

He probably realized what a stupid freaking mistake he made all those years ago. I decided to see if Juanita was familar with Susan Jablonski.
"No, the name doesn't ring a bell." She said. "Danny went through a lot of caregivers. Some people found him a little challenging to get along with."
"Not Danny." I said sarcastically.
The next morning I tried to get the agency that supplied his nursing assitants to tell me something about Sue Jablonski, but apparently everything like that is so confidential that to even speak of it invites a federal prison sentence.
Crap.

I related the sad story of Danny and Jen to Maricel...

She's heard bits and pieces of it all, but she hadn't heard me talk so much for so long about Danny before.
"I tried so hard to talk him out of dumping her like that." I said.
"How awful she must have felt." Marciel said. "You know what you'd think?"
"What?" I asked.
"That you were just some chick he was screwing and if he didn't think could use you for sex anymore, he just didn't want you around."
"Hadn't thought of it like that." I said. "That wasn't the case, he loved her. He just didn't want to stick her taking care of him for the rest of her life. I told him that if she didn't like it, she could leave. That it wasn't his decision to make for someone else. But he said he could just as easily have me barred from his room if I didn't shut up about it. I didn't want him to be alone."
"Dumb." She said. "But I've been dumb a time or two myself."
"The worst part was that Jen was really up on the medical stuff. I didn't have a handle on it at all and there was some stuff, I didn't think he was right about. The wanted to do some surgery on his arms because they thought they could really increase the mobility. The arm problems aren't from the spinal cord injury, the arms were badly broken and didn't heal so good. But he was scared of losing the mobility he had. But I thought the doctors were making good sense..."
I shook my head wearily. "That was a freaky time. Seems like I always have somebody to worry about."
"Now you have me." She said.
"You aren't particularly worrisome." I said. "And you bake."
"If you got hurt, I'd take care of you." She said.
"I know you would. I'd let you. You know, I'd take care of you."
"I know." She said. "That's kind of why I'm here with you."

I pretended to be Danny on-line last night...

and lo and behold Mystique turned up.
"Where have you been?" She typed. "I was starting to get worried. That last message was so vague. I know you're mad and I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. But I just wanted to talk to you and I knew you wouldn't. Don't you understand that?"
"I guess." I typed for and non-combative and non-communicative answer.
"I was worried about you." Mystique wrote. "And don't get mad, anyone can get sick or have an accident. I looked up your phone number and I left you a couple of messages. I gues syou got those. I'd rather have you yell at me than not talk to me at all."
"I'm not Danny." I typed. "I'm looking for Danny. He hasn't been around in a few weeks. And I'm just getting worried."
"Who are you?" She wrote.
"I'm a friend of his, we go way back. We've done the comic thing together for years."
"Simon?" She typed rather unexpectedly.
"Yes." I replied.
"What's your number?" She asked. "I'll call you."
A minute after I replied my phone rang.
"It's me, Jennifer Wells." She said.
"Oh my God." I said. "Jen."
"Yeah. I think that's what Danny thought when he figured out it was me he was talking to."

Jen had been Danny's girlfriend for a couple of years before his accident. They were crazy close and she did her best to stand by him after the accident. She talked to doctors and took notes and made the funeral arrangements for his parents. And one day he just cut her off and had her barred from his room. He wouldn't read her letters or take her calls and nothing anyone said could change his mind. She had been in despair for a long time, then finally moved away to Florida to get on with her life. She'd gotten married and opened a business. Both had gone south about the same time. She was just trolling around looking for some comic sites and she came across Danny's board and figured out it was him. He hadn't figured out that Mystique was her at first and they had hit it off famously, just like the first time. Jen, like Ellen and Maricel, was a girl who really dug comics.

A few weeks ago, Danny had decided to come clean and let his on-line honey know that he was confined to a wheelchair. Then it was her turn to come clean and confess that she already knew that.
"God he was mad at me." She said. "Cause he hardly said anything or typed anything. You know what I mean. When he's really mad, he won't talk he just says two or three words."
"I think he's pretty mad at me." I said. "I was meeting a new girlfriend out at Comic Con in Vegas and I didn't even offer to take him this time."
"He wasn't mad about that. He thought it was cool that you had a girlfriend." She said. "He told all to Mystique."
"I'm just worried." I said. "And I talked to my friend who's a cop and he's not technically missing, though he supposed to have gone to Florida."
"Why would he come here?" She asked. "You don't think that he's here, do you? Or that something happened to him on the way here?"
"I don't know." I said. "I really don't know."

I had just about the best Sunday ever...

It consisted of church, a walk in the park and some delicious hot soup that we ate sitting on a park bench overlooking the river. The we found a really nice rug. Well, there was some other stuff, too. But nothing that's any of your damn business. Years ago when Danny was still in college, I remember giving him some crap because he went to some antique show with his girlfriend Jen. He said that if I could learn to do a certain something as well as she did, he'd go anywhere I wanted him to.

About the rug. Even if you don't like it. I do.

See you in the funny papers...
Simon

I did manage to catch up with Heather...

She stopped to get gas and was finishing up as I was pulling in.
"Did you get hold of him?" She asked me.
"No." I said.
"I get the feeling something weird is going on." Heather said. "I mean, that he's mad or he's doing something he don't think other people will like. Other people have left messages and stuff and I don't think he gets back to them. I mean, I don't know him or anything and I shouldn't be in his business. Cause everything for the house is all paid up and I've been paid. But I guess I'm kind of curious about who pissed him off. Was it like a girl or his family or what? And I think he's totally mad. The nurse chick said somebody blew him off for some big thing he wanted to go to and you know, he can't go by himself really."
Those were not happy words for me to hear. Since I was the one who blew him off for the big event.
"Who's his nurse now?" I asked.
"Her name is Susan." She said. "Susan something all Polish like Jablonski maybe. I never said much to her. She's kind of stuck up."
"You don't need diet anything." I said to her.
"What?"
"I saw you at the store, you don't need diet anything." I said.
"Thanks, but you've never seen me in my fat pants." She laughed.
Men don't have fat pants. We just keep lowering our waists.

I was in line at the grocery store...

A ten for ten dollars sale on shredded cheese had sent me on a mad buying binge. There are 20 lanes at the Kroger's. Two of them were open. I could have used the self-checkout, but that thing is my enemy. I spotted Danny's housesitter Heather stocking up on Slim-Fast shakes and Diet Pepsi. There were ten packages of cheese and five boxes of brownie mix in my cart. I think we're living very different kinds of lives. I wanted to catch up with her and ask after Danny, but the person in front of me would not accept the fact that her check would not clear because she had insufficient funds in the bank. Those stupid new electronic devices make it damn hard to kite checks like the good old days. She was wearing low-rider jeans and a belly shirt that bared way too much belly and showed off a tattoo. Some little kid with her was calling her Grandma. And she wasn't a hot grandma, she looked like a regular grandma. Just in lowrider jeans and a bell shirt...with a tattoo. And she couldn't get her cigarettes. Bummer...

A bunch of Maricel's stuff came...

She was so happy. She's got so many freaking dolls. Well, compared to me, she doesn't have that much stuff. They're pretty nice. I have some display cases in the basement that I knew would come in handy someday. I suggested putting some of the nicest stuff down in the store with a prominent not for sale sign displayed. The rest can go in the bedroom she has carefully crafted into a functional and attractive office for both my business and her teaching work. Did I mention the part when I went out and bought actual office furniture? When you buy stuff from a furniture store it costs more money, but there are actually dudes that move it upstairs for you. We got this stuff pictured up top. That's from the company's website, our office isn't out on the patio like that one seems to be. I would think that wouldn't be so good for the electronics. I could be wrong. But her clothes are in the closets and some of her stuff is hanging on the walls. And that really doesn't bug me at all. I'm thinking that's a good sign. Weezer's out of the ICU, too. Another good sign.
See you in the funny papers...

I picked out a bunch of ruined books...

And gave them to Maricel for her students to use for art projects. I got to drive them down to the school and carry the boxes up to the classroom. It's a cool place and apparently everyone had heard so much about me. They were smiling like it was good stuff. I went home to opene the store and an hour or so later Ellen came by with lunch. It was a giagantic Italian sandwich. What a gal. She just wants to get her hands on my comics. I floated the possibility of Danny being a missing person. Even though, I'd only sorta kinda noticed his absence just recently. And there was that possibility that he was just pissed at me, backed up by a terse e-mail that contained enough personal information to indicate that it was actually from him. By the time I finished talking, she was frowning at me and I was frowning at myself since what I said didn't make much sense. She said that Auntie Maria's P.I. had talked to her and that she'd vouched for me. Even though her first instinct was to tell him to step off. We laughed a little and finished lunch. Then all of the sudden she said.
"I was really scared of messing up our friendship. Which is pretty stupid since you're supposed to be friendly with your boyfriend. Am I screwed up or what?"
"Are we talking about now or about the thing we aren't supposed to ever speak of?" I asked.
"The thing we aren't supposed to speak of." She sighed.
"So can I speak of it or is this some kind of test?"
"You may speak." She said.
"That was a long time ago Ellie Mae." I said.
"You'd like to forget about it." She said.
"No, I forgot at your behest." I said. "And not wanting me as your boyfriend really doesn't mean you're messed up."
"But I did want you as my boyfriend. I just like the fact that you think like that. You know, being my boyfriend. A lot of guys don't think in terms of boyfriend."
"I'm too lazy to dig up different girls to sleep with." I said.
"This is a bad time to bring this up." She said. "Maybe some other time."
"You know, sweetie. I just don't think so." I said.
She sighed. "I was afraid of that."

SWSNBN e-mailed me...

Why is some dude calling me on my honeymoon to check up on you?
She inquired.

I told him the only read danger is being bored to death with deep meaningful conversation about Star Trek and Batman.

She said. And I sort of remembered that sometimes she used to make me laugh.

You should check your new sidekick out. No matter what you think, those foreign
chicks can be sketchy.


Looks like Auntie Maria is wasting no time having me investigated. Well, good for her I guess.

I took the purloined passwords...

and checked out the forum Danny moderates. He hasn't posted in a damn long time. You like the word "purloined?" Sounds better than stolen, though not as good as filched. So is he busy with his new friend, much like me? I dunno. But I looked at some of the messages and checked out some private mail. Looks like he has a very good friend who goes by Mystique. Which could be a little worrisome if you know who Mystique is in X-Men lore. She's much badder than the blue naked Rebecca Rojmin Stamos from the movies. I began to have visions of Danny buried in her backyard. Just like Marciel's aunt does.

Maricel is getting pretty good with a martini...

And I needed a drink when I got home. Turns out Maricel can get a provisional teaching certificate so she's now counts as a "highly qualified teacher" as she takes the necessary classes to get her master's in education. They're pretty happy about that at the school, since a couple of their full time teaches have bailed for higher paying positions elsewhere. And I guess she's as popular there as she is around here. And they've never even had her martinis or eaten her cooking. Wish I was that cool...

I'm getting kind of frustrated...

that Danny has no real interest in calling me back. I've scored a couple of terse e-mails, but he's really the person I want to talk to about the stupid comic book. I'm getting a little worried, but I wonder if that isn't just a bit condescending of me. He's a grown up and should be able to come and go as he pleases. But the idea of him taking off to meet someone from the Internet... Just like Maricel did. Hmmm... I went over to his house tonight, hoping to irritate the housesitter, but nobody answered. Nobody ever thinks of me. On the slightly brighter side, Brian looked better; much better. He was sitting up, or he was actually propped up. But he was upright and able to talke a little. Or at least answer a couple of quesitons. He confirmed with a slight nod that big blonde dreadlocked dude had sold him the comic. For a hundred freaking bucks. That was the offer Weezer made and the guy was pretty happy about it. My cousin thought it was a good idea to to get rid of the fake hundred dollar bill by spending it on what he must have known to be a stolen comic. There was a lot I could have said to him about the subject, but it probably wasn't a good time. Sometimes Brian makes me very tired.
"He said there was more." Brian literally weezed.
"Dude, it's all stolen." I said. "And I don't think he wants to sell you anything else since he figured out that damn book was worth more than my house."
"Too bad." He said.
"He came to kick your ass in a hospital bed." I said. "He came to the store, my girlfriend stabbed him."
"You have a girlfriend?" He said. Well, he had been in and out of it.
"Did you come across some diamond earrings?" I asked.
He smiled wickedly. Just like he used to when he was getting me into trouble in our childhood.
"I should kick your ass." I said. "She was over at my house ranting and raving. She even broke in and got her butt arrested."
"That's funny." He said weakly.
"I found everything up in the ceiling when my cat got up there. I tell you about the cat later."
"Funny." He said again. He also said that when he set things on fire or pulled the legs off bugs.
"Where were the earrings?"
"I was gonna hide the book in that funny bathroom thing, but I found the earrings. Then I wanted somewhere better." He started to cough and I figured that was it for the day.
Yikes...

see you in the funny papers...

Simon

Fabulous day at the store...

A customer came in and absolutely jumped my ass over the Marvel Civil War. Like it was my idea and I had some control over the content of the comics. I refused to get excited. He was getting all red in the face. I made the suggestion that he could just stop reading Marvel books. I thought he was going to swing on me. I would have hated to have to beat him down with a baseball bat. There's already been too much blood on my floor. Ellen stopped by. Said there's till nothing on my rare and lovely comic in the safe deposit box. I had her watch the cash register while I put dinner in the oven for Maricel. Insensitive you say? Nah...

I watched Maricel sleeping...

and I thought about a lot of stuff. Like why it is so much easier to live with her than SWSNBN. Maricel has said much the same thing about her relationship with her jet-lagged ex. This just seems easier. Is it because we're right for each other or we've just wised up at this point in life and started picking our battles carefully. Or is it because everything is just new. When homesickness or a real distaste for winter weather sets in, stuff could change. Maricel swears she remembers and loves winter. But I sometimes long for winter in the middle of summer, but not the actual winter that comes in November. Some pretty clean winter with no black slush and no bitter winds slicing you in two. I really don't want to mess this up. I think I should go to sleep, don't you?

See you in the funny papers...
Simon

So is it wrong....

to kinda sorta borrow your girlfriend's phone and call the last number she dialed to talk to her Aunt and explain you aren't a serial killer? You think? Ooops! But if you call at midnight our time, it's noon in Manila. And what's a better lunchtime conversation than explaining that you're as harmless as a petunia plant to a woman you've never met. Why on earth would you be suspicious of some dude your niece met on the Internet? I don't get it. She made it pretty clear that she was having my ass checked out and I made it pretty clear that I was okay with that. Which is sort of true. How can I blame her? And truthfully, there's not a heck of a lot to find out. But it still irritates me. And I guess it shouldn't. Like I've said, if it were my sister running off to Manila, I'd be on a plane in half an hour. And my sister is a giant pain in the behind. Sooner or later Maricel is going to find out and probably be pretty ticked off at me. Oh well.

Maricel was on the phone with her aunt...

She was not happy. I stayed out of it and served myself some dinner. It was flank steak stuffed with cheese in a really tasty tomato sauce. Afterwards, she sat down with me. I said nothing until she spoke to me.
"He left, by the way." I said.
"Darn, I was hoping he'd stay for dinner." She said.
"I asked." I said. "He had another engagment."
"I was hoping you'd shoot him." She said.
"No you weren't." I said.
"Pistol whip him?" She suggested.
"He's completely confused." I said.
"I don't know quite how she got him to come here." Maricel said.
"Maybe he feels guilty." I said.
"After she got done with him, he probably does. But it won't last." She said. "So dear, tell me all about your day."
And I did.

See you in the funny papers...

Simon

To top off a magical day of fun...

I was just ready to close up the shop after a day so busy it made my head spin. I could smell dinner wafting down the stairs and was beginning to salivate. Maricel can cook. She's going through my cookbooks and coming up with something different every night. But she's walking me so much, I'm not getting any fatter. I had an exciting evening of dinner, TV and comparative comic book reading followed by discusison ahead. And I'd done nearly two thousand dollars worth of business in a day. The front door beeped and one tired looking guy came in.
"May I help you?" I asked cheerfully. I can always fake cheerful when I want their money.
"I'm here to see Maricel." He said.
I could pretty much figure he'd some all the way from Manila.
"And you are?" I asked.
"Why do you need to know?" He said in an unneccessarily confrontational tone.
"So I can tell her who's here." I said. "Honey, some unidentified male is here, doesn't seem to cut it."
I knew who it was. I was just screwing with him. I didn't have to call her, she came skipping downstairs to help me close up the shop like she always did. If I hadn't grabbed her by the belt, I think she would have killed him. I actually snatched her out of mid-ail and pulled her back towards me before she could get him. No need to repeat the string of obscenities. You get the gist. She was not too happy to see her cheating, lying ex-boyfriend.
"What are you doing here?" She screeched. That's exactly my reaction when SWSNBN shows her face. So I understood.
"I came to bring you home." He said.
"Your wife might not like that." She said.
"To your aunt." He said. "Your family is worried."
"And they sent you?" She said. "That's a brilliant idea. I hate you."
"She talked me into it." He said. "I don't know why I'm here."
"Neither do I." Maricel said. "I am home. This is where I live. This is where I was born."
"Don't delude yourself." He said. "Everything isn't going to be perfect because you moved to America."
"Everything will be perfect because you're not around." She said. "Go away. I'm fine. I don't need your help now. When I needed your help, you were busy with some other girl. Remember her, your wife? Shouldn't you be home with her now?"
"I should." He said angrily. "But I came halfway actoss the world to help you."
"You should have tried dropping by when I needed you to come halfway across town, you selfish, stupid bastard." She said. "I'm done with you." And she turned her back and ceased to acknowledge anything he said or did. She just went upstairs.
"I don't think she wants to talk to you." I said.
"Nothing better happen to her." He said to me.
"Bite me." I replied wittily.
"She's having your background checked." He warned me.
"Don't blame her." I said. "There's nothing to find, but I don't blame her. Don't you think you'd better leave before she hurts you?"
"I spent two straight days on a plane." He said.
I shrugged. "Maybe you should have called first."

Juanita called me...

She talked with her daughter and is now worried about Danny. The Florida stuff has her nervous. Danny had an online friend who lived in Florida. Juanita was worried he was spending way too much time chatting with her. He met her through a comic fan message board that Danny moderated. I didn't really know much about this because I was pretty busy with my own online friend.
"He's got a lot of money and he's in a vulnerable position." Juanita said. "I don't want some girl taking advantage of him. I was so afraid something would happen if I left him."
"You didn't leave him." I said.
"Can you check up on him?" She asked. "Without seeming like you're checking up on him?"
"I could do that." I said. "And I want to ask his expert opinion about something anyway."
"I can tell you everything about that group." She informed me. "I know all the passwords and everything. I had to help him with it sometimes."
"Can you e-mail it to me?" I asked.
"I understand all about e-mail." She said. "Learned that helping out Danny. He's like a son to me, you know?"
"I know." I said.
]
See you in the funny papers...

Simon

Sorry I've been absent...

It's just been crazy busy. Tons of stuff to ship out from the Ebay store. If you ordered it, it should be on the way. A lot of great new stuff in at the store. Make sure check the website and I have finally caught up on a bunch of reading. No, Maricel did not leave me. School started and she's just been busy with her new teaching assistant position. They love her there and she likes it a lot. Lucky kids. I would have loved a teacher that looked like that. The only book I haven't read is my precious issue #38. It's not reported stolen anywhere that Ellen can find, but I'm still not so sure it's mine yet. Brian is not doing well. But they say he's actually starting to improve. I can't see it. But I am ready to discuss comics with all comers...

See you in the funny papers...

Simon

I was attempting to enjoy a late dinner...

with my beloved. SWSNBN showed up all nice and surly with cash in hand. She had the fiance with her and boy, did he look uncomfortable.
"I'll pay for the damn door." She said. "Write me a receipt. I brought cash, I figured you wouldn't take a check."
I shrugged.
She counted it out in an exaggerated fashion. Maricel looked as if she was on the verge of laughing hysterically.
"Fair enough." I found a receipt pad and wrote her out one marked paid in full. Then I pulled box with the earrings out of a drawer and tossed it to her. "Found something."
She opened them and let out a genuine sigh of relief. "I told you they were here."
"You didn't put them up in the basement ceiling, did you?" I asked. "Cause that's where they were."
"I thought I put them in that freaky little cubby in the bathroom." She said. "Or in the back of the linen closet."
"No valuable comic books with them?" I said.
"Huh?" SWSNBN said.
"Never mind. "Have a nice wedding, skip the B & E, 'kay?"
"Screw you." She said.
"You're welcome." I said.
She frowned. "Thanks for finding them. I guess you were looking for them."
Krypto darted out from wherever she was lounging and decided to climb up SWSNBN's pants. SWSNBN doesn't like cats. They scare her. Her fiance was more comfortable with animals, he actually picked up Krypto and said. "Cute. Hon, it's a kitten."
SWSNBN was not amused. She did inquire after Brian, though. I guess that was nice of her.

I tried to talk to Weezer...

But he's way freaking out of it. I just wanted some kind of confirmation that he was the one who put the the book in the ceiling. But I couldn't even get a blink. I'm really worried about him. Breathing is kind of important. I feel like I never really took the asthma seriously. Of course, the asthma isn't all of it. He's screwed around with his body eighteen ways to Sunday (as Grandpa likes to say) His heart is messed up and I know his brain is scrambled. I've been watching him get progressively dumber for years and it hasn't been pretty. We all know what's wrong with, we always have, but nobody's ever been able to figure out what to do about it. I feel very tired...

I didn't open it...

It's not mine or at least I don't think it is. I don't like people in my stuff, so I probably shouldn't get in anybody else's. Suck! Ellen's going to check to find out if the book has been reported missing anywhere. I looked around on-line and didn't see any mention of it. If there had been, I would remember. But if something of mine worth that much money went missing, I don't know as if I'd want that getting around. You could get some ransom demands. Yeah, that book is that rare and that valuable. So I think I'll just trot on over to the bank and put it in my safe deposit box before I open up the store. So if you're looking for it, don't bother.

Yes, I know it can cost a whole lot of money to

grade a valuable book. But to some of us, it might be worth it to read it. The train for dorktown is leaving... Woo! Woo! get on board...

I called Ellen in the morning...

And I think perhaps that Maricel thinks we see a wee bit too much of Ellen around here. Nothing she said, not anything she did. Just a flicker in the eyes. I probably should have kept my mouth shut about sleeping with her, huh? I showed Ellen the wondrous book and she drooled.
"What do I do?" I asked.
"Nothing." Ellen said. "I can check to see if it's been reported stolen, but if it hasn't; possession really is nine tenths of the law. It was on your property. When Weezer can talk maybe he can answer some of our questions. Are you going to read it?"
"It's sealed." I said.
"Well all opening would do is mean it has to be graded again. It doesn't really destroy the value, right?"
No, it doesn't." I said.
So I guess I get to read it.

We put it on the table and stared at it for a long time...

Too bad it's sealed up in high grade mylar, cause I can't read it. Then I put it in the safe where I keep the days meager receipts. I don't know where this came from If this is what Weezer bought for a hundred bucks, it has to be stolen. Somebody might not know an old book lying around the house is valuable, but this book had been professionally graded. Somebody knew. Now I have to figure out what to do.

See you in the funny papers...
Simon

Say what?

I have one of these. I have #38. If the grading is authentic, it's worth more about as much as my house. I don't know how it got into my ceiling or if Weezer bought this with a fake hundred dollar bill. If he did, no wonder someone wants to kill him. But where the hell did he get the earrings? Did SWSNBN have the book? I'm very confused. I think I want another martini.

The ceiling was scary... Love me dammit!

I wish that I was cute enough to get away with crawling in the ceiling...
Hail Krypto, brilliant earring hunter! Time for a some kitty treats and to consult the Overstreet guide. SWSNBN will get the earrings when I get paid for my door. Sounds fair enough to me, don't you think?

Guess what fell out of my ceiling...

If you said a small jewelry box, you'd be correct. But go ahead guess what else fell out of the ceiling? A comic book. A bagged, boarded and graded comic book. Yep, I do have SWSNBN's earrings. Go figure. In my ceiling. WTF? Somehow I suspect Weezer...

We decided to do some laundry around eleven...

I have a nice washer and dryer. My old ones both died at the same time last year and I got some dang pretty floor models with slight scratching at deep discount. My basement ain't bad for being in an old business. I had ample time after the break up to drylock my basement, put in some new vinyl tile and build shelves. Weezer and I tried to put in the drop ceiling, then I gave the hell up and had a professional finish it. Krypto rode down in the laundry basket, highly amused at everything. I hope she likes the basement, cause that's where the litterbox is going as soon as she's big enough to handle the stairs. I have some cool stuff stored down there and after we put in the first load, I showed Maricel some of my action figures. That's not a metaphor for anything, okay? Then we heard Krypto mewing. We didn't see her. It got louder and more plaintive and then I heard scratching sounds above my head. She was up in my ceiling. CRAP! There was a tile slightly askew and it looked as if she'd climbed up on one of my shelves and made her way into the forbidden land of ceiling. I got a flashlight and a ladder and pushed the tile away. Something fell out, that was not a cat. Krypto was literally screaming by then. I shined the light into the darkness and called her. She wailed some more. I didn't want to tear out the ceiling, so I sent Maricel up for some meat. It only took half an hour to rescue our baby. Whereupon we punished her for her bad behavior by showering her with love. That'll learn her. Oh, by the way...

It's profoundly humbling...

When someone you respect (or adore) says the kinds of things to you that you've always thought you wanted to hear. Especially if they seem sincere. Dear God, I really love that girl. The idea of her getting hurt makes me sick to my stomach. It also makes me want to take the darn shotgun and go hunting for a fat, pale dude with braids. If you are that dude, watch you ample backside, bud. It could easily be full of bird shot. Just saying...

Oh yeah, the kitten is fine...

Thank you for your concern...

At least the blood came up...

I highly recommend the Armstrong commercial floor tiles. I shut up shop early and took Maricel out for dinner. She seemed fine, I was still a little freaked out. I'm still a little freaked out. Then we came home, Ellen stopped by to see if we were okay, which we were. I made some more martinis. By the way, a couple of martini-infused evenings does not mean I'm an alcoholic. Thanks for the kind referrals to AA, though. We went to bed at seven, though not to sleep. Wink, Wink nudge nudge, you know what I mean? I feel better now.

I missed the excitement again...

When I got home, the police were there talking to Maricel. When our fat white dude with dreds was done harassing my nearly comatose cousin, he came back here looking for something. Maricel said he came into the store yelling and screaming about something that made not a lick of sense to her. Then he grabbed her by the shirt, called her a bitch and said that he wanted it back. He did not elaborate on what "it" was. He smelled like liquor, just like they said he did at the hospital. So she grabbed the boxcutter under the counter and stuck him in the hand with it. Four times, as hard as she could. Hence the blood all over the floor of my store. Good thing I went with the linoleum over carpet. I did not feel as flip as I sound here. At the time my hands were shaking. After the police left, I hugged Maricel so hard she couldn't breathe.
"He's lucky I didn't go for the shotgun." She said referring to the sawed-off shotgun I kept under the counter. If the police saw it, they didn't say anything about the present my grandpa gave me when I opened the store. He didn't want me to be one of those comic store owners murdered for twenty bucks.
"Christ, what the hell has Weezer done?" I wondered.
"He wouldn't say what it was he wanted." Maricel said. "He was just drunk and mad."
"Your aunt was right, you aren't safe here." I said.

Sister and I missed the excitement...

We got to the hospital to find out that someone had tried to rough up Brian in his hospital bed. From my panicked Aunt's description, it sounds like the dude who came looking for him in the store. He actually grabbed him and shook him. That precipitated another severe asthma attack, so he's back on oxygen and again looking like death warmed over. It's not unusual for people to rough up Weezer over money, but in his hospital bed seems a bit extreme. Sister said she'd stay with our aunt for awhile. I looked at Brian and felt sad for him, then I went back to the store. Krypto was perched on a bust of Catwoman looking out the front window. That made me smile.

We enjoy blogging together....

Actually, she likes the aquarium screen saver and I'm a dork with a digital camera and a kitten. Bear with me, I haven't had a pet in years. And I ain't putting pictures of my new girlfriend on the web, despite numerous requests you pervert.

I woke up with kitten paws in my mouth...

Krypto seems to really, really like me. And it seems my neck is cozy. I took it to the vet and it was declared a she, given shots and put on a weight-gain diet. Then back to open the store. Then Maricel got a call from the temp agency about a job subbing as a teaching assistant for a week. It's at the school for the arts, which I think would be easier than the school for autistic kids, but I could be wrong. She had to head out for some kind of orientation. While Krypto and I were enjoying a sandwich for lunch, my sister came in.
"Mom says I need to apologize." She said.
"No need." I said. "There's no reason we should ever speak again."
"That could be awkward. Cute kitten."
"What do want, Sister?" I really do call her Sister, I have for years and she hates it when I use her name on-line.
"Where's your friend?"
"Talking to someone about a teaching job." I said.
"She was pretty offended." Sister said.
"She was exponentially offended."
"Uh, I guess I misunderstood the situation." Sister said.
"Yes, I actually can get a woman without having to order her from a catalog. Although, from what I understand it's illegal to advertise chicks in the Philippines, so the dudes put themselves in a catalog and the ladies give 'em a call."
"It's just that you've been so lonely since..."
"Actually not that lonely for awhile. I've just been on-line late at night talking to Maricel."
"You know she's gettig married, right?" Sister said.
"Yeah, she broke into my back door to look for some earrings that go with her dress."
"Oh." Sister said and furrowed her brow. She knew more than she was saying.
Maricel got back while Sister and I were talking.
"I'm gonna go see Brian." Sister said.
"Go with her if you want." Maricel said. "I'll watch the store."
"How was your orientation?" I asked.
"Not much to it." She said.
"I'm all apologetic and stuff." Sister said.
"Good for you." Maricel said and she picked up Krypto and began to cuddle her while ignoring Sister. Gotta love a multi-tasker.

So now I have a cat...

And she is an adorable little monster. I know eventually it'll grow into a cat. I put up a couple of signs, so If you lost an adorable kitten with a strange little tail twitch who is both malnourished and flea-bitten, here she be. Right now she is climbing up by back, so she can watch me use the computer. I seem to have gone quite domestic these days.

The afternoon was slow...

We had a crazy thunderstorm. It was coming down in buckets with lightning flashing and thunder booming. Maricel and I just hung around the store and read. I caught up on some books. Pretty interesting stuff happening gang. Maricel went up to fix dinner around the time the rain let up. We had brief rush at the store, then I got to eat me some dinner. She can grill her some chicken that girl of mine. I called for a report on Weezer and they said he was doing much better, but he was sleeping now I skipped the hospital visit and Maricel and I went for a walk. The storm hit the trees hard around our neighborhood, there were bits and pieces of limbs everywhere. We went for a walk in the park, as Maricel keeps forcing me into activity. We were standing overlooking the river while I expounded on the history of the park and Maumee River Yacht Club. Then it happened. A teeny wet ball of fur darted out of a bush and climbed up Maricel's leg.
"Mew!" It said as it desperately clung to her.
It was a scrawny, wet, teeny baby kitty. Crap. What are you gonna do?
Maricel wants to call her Krypto.

SWSNBN called me...

Against her attorney's advice, she added.
"I'm not paying to fix your damn door twice! I only busted it once. It was a crappy old door anyway, you'd have had to get one anyway sooner or late! Why should I pay for something I didn't even do?"
"Price of crime." I said. "Pay for all of it or go to court."
"My lawyer will..." she began.
"Charge you a freaking fortune." I said. "Pay for my damn door. I don't care if you broke it once or twice. You'll pay for it."
"You're a jackass." She said as if that was harsh after all the other crap she'd said about me yesterday.
"Yep." I said. "Pay for my door."

"If you were my sister..."

I told Maricel over a delightful tuna salad that I'd put together. "I'd come get you and drag you home."
"If you were my brother." She said. "I'd be absolutely sure that little foreign chick was out to rip you off."
I'd put together one of what I consider my specialties: tuna salad that you scoop up with Fritos Scoops. Maricel said it tasted good.
"I've no plans to dump you in a lake." I said thinking about a case I'd seen on Cold Case or American Justice.
"I've no plans to kill you yet." She said.

There were probably five guys in the store when I got home.

And bless her heart, Maricel was selling them stuff. She's knowledgeable enough to talk about product and smart enough to admit when she's not familiar with something in order to give the customers the pleasure of explaining it to her. SEVEN HUNDRED DOLLARS in sales. On a weekday morning. WHAT THE HELL? She doesn't need to get a job. She's plenty profitable as store decor. Maybe I need to get another job and just let her run the store. Then she offered to make me lunch. I made her lunch. I didn't want her leaving the store.

On my way out...

I literally ran into a pretty dark-haired woman with a stack of files. As I was helping her pick it up I realized I knew her from somewhere, but I couldn't think where.
"I know you, don't I?" I asked.
"Yeah, I think so." She said and she looked me up and down.
"I've never been indicted, if that helps." I said. "I have a comic store."
"You're Simon." She said after a second or two.
"I'm still lost." I said.
"I'm Maria. I'm Juanita Morales daughter."
Juanita Morales is the Juanita who's been helping Danny out for a decade or so.
"I haven't seen you in a long time." I said. "Nice suit."
"I'm an assistant prosecutor." She said.
"I'm stil just the guy with the comic books." I said.
"How's Danny?" She asked.
"I really hadn't talked to him for a couple of months." I said.
"Oh." She said. "Mom worries about him. She thinks he might be mad at her for leaving him."
"I didn't know she was gone." I said.
"She didn't really leave." Maria explained. "Dad and her retired to San Antonio."
"Oh." I said.
"You know she really needed the break. She feels bad, though. She really loves Danny."
"I know." I said.
"She said he e-mailed a few times, but it just didn't seem friendly."
"I guess he's in Florida right now." I said.
"Yeah, Mom said that." Maria said. "But, you know. He could send her a little note or something. I hate to sound selfish, but he took up a lot of her time for a lot of years and she went way beyond what she was getting paid for."
"I know. She's really like a second mom to him."
"Well, you should call your mother, you know? Even if you're a little mad because she moved."

I went down to the prosecutor's office...

And got to talk with the poor woman who was supposed to be handing my complaint against SWSNBN.
"She hasn't lived there for two years." I said. "She's got no business breaking in."
"She says you stole her earrings." Assistant Prosecutor Donna Krieger read from a file.
"She decided two years after she moved out that she must have left them behind and that I somehow know where they are. She's done almost three hundred dollars worth of damage trying to get into my house. She broke in twice. It's ridiculous. I'm not interested in dragging this thing out forever. If she'll pay me for the damage, I guess I could let it go. And she has to stay the heck away from my home and my place of business. Coveniently, they're the same place."
"Do you have her earrings?" Ms. Krieger asked.
"No, I don't." I said. "Criminently."
"Criminently?" She laughed.
"I didn't think you were supposed to drop the F bomb around here." I said.
"It's more commonly used than the word and." She said.
"She tries to get in again and I want her shot." I said.

For some strange reason...

Maricel's aunt seems to think that there's something odd about deciding to move in with some dude from a foreign land that you met on the Internet. Even after you've gone to the trouble of spending a couple of days with him in Las Vegas. I don't get it. Sounds like a plan to me. Poor woman, I totally understand why she's calling here at 6 a.m. our time and yelling so loud that I could hear every word of it. Apparently Maricel's cousin has spilled the beans. I'm sure the news seriously ruined dinner. She pointed out to Maricel that girls who move to America to take up with strange men often end up dead or in dire circumstances. Although all of the cases she seemed to be citing were mail-order brides. I guess I could have brought up that more than one guy has ended up dead at the hands of some girl he's imported. But that would mean that Maricel and I are both idiots. Wisely, Maricel did not argue much. She let her Aunt yell until she was hoarse and then politely told her that she appreciated the concern. Then she told her that she was substitute teaching and thinking about furthering her education. She pointed out that I was not some creepy old man hoping to find an Asian sex slave, but a rather harmless comic book dealer who was completely under thumb. (AM NOT!)
While she was on the phone, I went down to the bakery and picked up some doughnuts. When I got back, Maricel had gotten off the phone and put on some coffee.
"She has a point." I said.
"She's absolutely right." Maricel said. "But she's wrong, too."

I think I jumped ten feet when Maricel...

touched me on the shoulder. "What's up?" She asked as she sat down beside me on the couch.
"I think I'm brooding." I said.
"Can I brood with you?" She asked.
"I was going to stop it." I said.
"All right." Maricel said. "What would you like to do instead?"
"Don't you have to get up early to aid autistic children?" I asked.
"Not unless Mrs. Shriver's poodle has taken a turn for the worse. She was taking the day off for his surgery."
"Let's pray he pulls through."
"Oh, I am." Maricel said.
"When Danny gets back, I think I owe him a field trip." I said.
"I can't wait to meet him." She said.
"He's really a fun guy." I said. "Could be awhile, I have to make sure Brian's up to running the store. At least physically. I'll lock up the sharp objects and unplug the microwave."
She laughed.
"I've often wondered." I said. "What Danny thinks about Brian prancing around abusing his perfectly good body. The lungs are a little iffy, but the rest of it works or it used to. Danny's smart. He's really smart. And somebody has to get him get a glass of water."
"Life is often not fair." She said.
Then she gave me a back rub.
"Sometimes we get a lot more than we deserve." I said.

I always knew Weezer would end up in the hospital...

I was up ruminating in a post-martini funk. So I pulled out some photo albums. I always knew he's hurt himself or get in an accident. That's why I've been compelled to watch him since I was five. Danny was a shock to the system. He always did the right thing. But not so right that he annoyed people. Seeing him with his body broken made a fundamental change in me. I don't know if you'd call it growing up, but the fragility of the human body never hit home to me until them. It was apparent now. Weezer being done in by the air sacs in his lungs (as well as his refusal to treat his asthma with respect) and Danny freaking trapped in a chair by the chance of being injured in a particular place on his spin. He'd handled it well (as well as can be expected)
And when they finally outfitted him with his super-dooper deluxe wheelchair, there had been no stopping him. I pitied his poor caretaker hanging in the store as we talked comics. He sent her home, but she was afraid to leave. I promised I'd look after him.
"You sure you can handle it?" She asked with a gentle warning in her voice.
I jerked my head towards Weezer who was having difficulty figuring out the complexities of a large sandwich at the time. "I look after him."
"Fine." She said.
Then I pulled out an album I should have burned. I am none of the things SWSNBN says I am. I am ambitious. My ambitions are just not her ambitions. I want this store and it's sister the on-line store. I want to go to comic conventions and talk to other dorks about Wolverine's origins. And I've found a way to make money at it. Decent money in a business it's not easy to make decent money in. Do doctors make more money? Hell yeah and they should. I can't save you if your lungs decide to close up.

Speaking of old pictures: Here's one of the corner by my store back when the 4-lane road was a part of the Miami and Erie Canal. Kudos to the Toledo Library for the picture collection. I'm all about the Miami Erie Canal. I think I'll take Maricel out to look at the old locks in the metro parks over the weekend. It's picnic time! With an authentic historical experience! (Hold the cholera)

There's a cute girl sleeping in my bed. Guess I'll join her.

See you in the funny papers...
Simon

I told Maricel everything SWSNBN had to say about me...

She said the description was 98 percent wrong. Though she would not tell me what the 2 percent that was correct might be. But she said the sex more and made up for it.
"You're drunk." I said.
"You made me three martinis." She said.
I somehow pulled what I believe to be an ancient Dorothy Parker quote. "I love a martini, two at the most. Three I'm under the table, four I'm under the host."
She held up her glass. "Hit me."

Maricel says she's no expert...

but that in her opinion, one kid in the class is likely autistic. The rest of them need to be slapped. But again, she's no expert. And I didn't say it. So nobody get mad at me.
"Actually probably the parents." She said. "The parents need to be slapped."
"You're just slapping all kinds of people." I said.
"Bring your girlfriend back here." Maricel said after she took a sip from her martini.
"You're my girlfriend." I said
"I'm alledging that you're my fiance now." She said.
"That's it, label me." I said. "They all want to label me."
"Start on that next batch of drinks while you're at it." She said.

I went to see Weezer...

And he was looking so much better. He was off the ventilator, though still on oxygen. He opened his eyes and seemed pretty happy to see me. I told him the fascinating narrative of SWSNBN earring hunt. After about twenty minutes he mouthed what I took to be "present."
"I've got presents for you." I said.
He blinked and said. "Yours."
"You have a present for me?" I asked. "Cool."
"Find." He said.
"Shh" I said. "Not so much talking. I didn't find it yet. But I suck at finding stuff, don't I."
He smiled a little and drifted back to sleep.

Maricel looked like I felt...

"Bad day?" I asked.
"I need a nap." She said.
"Get on with your bad self then." I said.
"Do you want a break?" She offered.
"Nap." I said.
A couple of hours later she came down to let me know she was starting dinner.
"You wanna go out?" I offered.
She said cooking helped her unwind and that it was a mess upstairs. I briefly outlined some of this morning's events. I do not think she was pleased that SWSNBN was mucking around in her apartment. I was bound to raise her ire sooner or later.
She made shrimp for dinner, so I don't think she was too irked with me.
We traded bad day stories. For actual physical stress a room full of autistic fifth graders won hands down. But I think I won on the emotional pain level. There was no prize however.

I felt like absolute crap for the rest of the day...

Not sure why. There's not a doubt in my mind that I am in a much better place than I was when I lived with SWSNBN. But you're in a much better place after having a tumor cut out, odds are you still feel like hell. I guess I'd thought the wound had healed up better than it actually had. Probably not too good an idea to pick at the stitches. It's likely a combination of things that put me in my funk. Weezer on a ventilator, thinking about Danny's crash... Oddly, I don't think moving in the new girl has much to do with it. Sometimes it's hard to believe Maricel and SWSNBN are the same species. Maybe Maricel has mutant girlfriend powers. I dunno. I finally got a reply from Danny. A short one and franky I was expecting more interest with the combination of Comic-con and a hot new girlfriend. Maybe he's mad at me, I have been a fair-weather friend lately. He made some truly generic chit-chat about Florida, but he did make reference to a funny sunburn incident from our youth in the last sentence, so maybe he was softening towards me. I told him to make sure they rubbed in the sunscreen. Then a customer came in and looked around kind of hopefully. I think he was looking for Maricel. Seeing that there wasn't a pretty girl in sight, he bought a comic book and left. Cheapskate. Just kidding, I love every last one of you no matter how much you spend. Oh, a bunch of new stuff in the Ebay store today! So get to buying!
See you in the funny paper...
Simon

I used to love the stupid heifer...

So I was really nice and let her look around for her precious earrings. Even though she seemed to think that I should have just been grateful for the experience of knowing her and not asked any questions upon being discarded. But the fact that she felt that way gives me moral superiority. And I enjoy that. She has no idea where her damn earrings are. Only that she's misplaced them and for some reason her crooked little mind decided they were here. They aren't. I opened and went through more drawers than I should have and even let her look through the plastic tubs that hold my Christmas decorations. She stopped to look at the wall of Maricel, which the closet door on which I taped some pictures that she e-mailed me of herself. One is her in front of her doll collection and SWSNBN noticed that.
"She's got a lot of dolls." She remarked.
"She builds them like models." I said.
"Really?" SWSNBN said.
About twenty minutes into the fruitless search, she turned to me with tears in her eyes and demanded. "Where are they?"
She used to do that a lot. "Why won't this work? Why did it have to rain?" As if there was something I could do about it.
"I don't know." I said.
"Are you torturing me?" She sobbed.
"No, you're torturing me." I said. "I don't know where they are."
"They have to be here." She insisted.
"Where?" I asked.
"I don't know!" She stamped her foot on the floor like a child.
"Neither do I." I said. "But I let you look."
"Well I told you why I left." She said wiping her eyes.
"You could have just said bye." I said.
"You'd have cried like a baby." She said. "And I wouldn't have been able to leave."
"I think I might have been a little relieved. I found living with you to be somewhat stifling."
"Living with ME was stifling?" Her wet eyes grew wide with surprise.
"And I guess I thought that's just what living with someone was like. You got a daily critique and what you wanted to do or eat or watch really didn't matter anymore. But I think that may have been just you trying to fix me. And I'm not really broken."
"Oh, you're just wonderful." She said sarcastically.
"Why do you care?" I asked. "You've found Mr. Right."
"I wasted a lot of time on you." She said.
"I wasted a lot of time this morning." I said. "And I'm finished."

Well, apparently I suck...

BIGTIME. There's so much wrong with me that it's hard to even just hit the highlights in twenty minutes when you're pouring it out at the speed of sound. It's nothing a guy could work on either. I suffer from deeply ingrained character flaws, perhaps even more than one personality disorder. I'm unambitious (me, small buisness owner by twenty-five!) I'm uncaring (Me, Mr. never-forgets-a-birthday) Basically FAT, LAZY, MEAN, FAT, DORKY, FAT, CHILDISH, FAT, STUPID, FAT, GOOFY and did I mention that I'm FAT. I'm five ten and weight two hundred and twenty pounds. I'm a fatboy, but I'm not that fat. Anyway, being that I'm fat and fatally flawed, she had no choice but to take up with some other guy she met at the gym. She had never realized just how much I sucked until she met someone so marvelous. Then it occurred to her that she just deserved better. Well, good for her! And telling me about it would have been a hassle. So it was just easier to make a clean break while I wasn't there. Perfectly understandable. Goodness, I couldn't wait to help her find just the right earring to wear to her wedding to the guy she dumped me for!

Maricel got an early a.m. call to substitute...

That must be one thorough background check. Not! They needed her to come in at a school specializing in kids with autism. I didn't know school had even started back yet, but this place obviously has. She didn't seem daunted by the task of taking on a new challenge. So I made her a hearty breakfast with plenty of protein, packed her a tasty lunch and insisted on driving her to work. She can bus back if she insists upon it, though I got no problem locking up the shop for forty minutes in the afternoon. I can do that. I'm the boss. I doubt I'll miss a million dollar sale. So I get back with some time before the store opens and who do I spot lingering outside? Oh, you know. SWSNBN, of course. I should have called the police again, but I did not. I unlocked the door and let her blondeful bitchiness in.
"What!" I said. "What do you want from me?'
"My earrings. I just want my earrings."
"I have no idea in this world where they are." I said.
"Let me look for them." She said.
"You can't toss my house." I said. "Didn't the police explain that to you?"
"That's so ridiculous." She said. "I used to live here."
"Well, we used to live together. Can I toss your house?"
"So you'll just punish me until the end of time for having the nerve to leave you? It's the ultimate crime."
"See I have the idea that you're punishing me for something. And I have no clue what that might be."
She snorted in absolute disgust. Her nose wrinkled up. She hated the sight, sound and smell of me. Though I should have smelled okay. I showered, washed my hair and used deodorant and a splash of aftershave that morning. "So you want to ruin my wedding?"
"No, I don't care about your wedding or another." I said. "I wouldn't go out of my way to mess it up for you. Why would I want this hassle, *****?"
"You hate me for leaving you and ruining your life." She said.
"My life is fine." I said. "I was pretty... stunned when you dumped me. But I think I've moved on pretty well. My new girlfriend likes me."
"Yeah, you have a new girlfriend." She said. "Babe, some girls will do anything for a green card."
"Well, now I really want to help you find your earrings." I said.
"Let me look for them." She pleaded. "You can supervise."
"Tell me why you left me." I said. "Why you up and split without so much as a kiss my ass, fat boy."
"You don't want to know." She said.
"Yeah, I really do." I said. "You tell me and I'll give you an hour to look for your earrings."

You may note...

That Alan Moore, whom Maricel suspects of being part of the red menace wrote it. But enough with my geekdom.

see you in the funny papers...
Simon

Other Gotham Girls to note:

Poison Ivy: as we all know scientists are the first to lose their grips and turn into super villians. Just a hint to the scientists of the world: AVOID PETER PARKER.

Catwoman: I think I may be dating her.

Batgirl: Also known as Oracle. Barbara Gordon is one of my favorite characters. To have someone become paralyzed and keep it that way is honest and a little bit brave.

By the way, if you get the chance read The Killing Joke. But not if you need to sleep that night.

If I were an evil lying cow where would I put my earrings?

I considered this question while enjoying a Batman: The Animnated Series DVD with Maricel. In my opinion, none of the live action movies has been as exciting, well-done and sexy as the cartoon. That Harley Quinn is one hot mama. Though, like a lot of other hot mamas I've known, she likes her some bad boy. I cannot tell you how many girls have told me I'm too nice. You know what, I'm not that nice. Just ask SWSNBN. I think. Maybe she left because I'm too nice. Or because I'm a nice/not nice fence straddler. I dunno. Something to ponder, I reckon.

Ellen jogged by us as we sat there...

eating ice cream and probing my memories. She asked after Brian and I gave her the latest news. Told her we had dinner with the folks and she laughed. "How's that sister of yours?"
Maricel laughed, too. "Fine, she thinks I'm a mail-order prostitute."
"I'll bet she'll have a candlelight vigil for you." Ellen said. "She-who-you-don't-say-the-name-of is pretty ticked at you."
I didn't bother to correct her. "What else is new?"
"Says she's gonna sue you." Ellen grinned.
"For preventing a breaking and entering?" I suggested.
"For stealing her granny's earrings." She said.
"I thought I was the one who took them." Maricel said.
"I'd be patting down Brian if it was me." Ellen said.
"Yeah, sue him." I said. "You'll get a huge percentage of less than nothing."
"You don't have her damn earrings tucked away somewhere, do you?" Ellen asked.
"I don't steal frickin' earrings." I said. "Just souls, Ellie Mae."
"Is there some place she might have put them?" She suggested.
"Screw her." I said. "Let her get married without them at her fabulous destination wedding."
"It would be an easy way to shut her up and get her off your back." Ellen said. "Cause she's nuts, Hon. You never seemed to see it, but she's nuts."
"Am I nuts?" Maricel asked.
"Well, you're living with him." Ellen said.

Maricel listened quite patiently...

when I talked about the accident. She has this way of listening. You can tell she's not just waiting for your lips to stop moving so she can talk. So is she a great listener or does she have a great fake listening face? Great listener. She can repeat stuff back to you. Guess I better get good at listening. Huh? What did you say?
See you in the funny papers...
Simon

We sat down at the dining room table and menu planned for the week...

I have gone strangely domestic in a very short period of time. Maricel has this wacky idea that you go see what you have in the kitchen and then look through your cookbooks to see what you can make from it. Who da thunk it? Then she made me take another walk. But I detoured her to the dairy bar for chocolate sodas. You cannot defeat FATMAN! She got a small, though. From the picnic tables at the dairy bar I can see the spot where Danny Anderson's parents got killed. I was freaking standing there on the corner waiting to cross the busy four-lane Anthony Wayne Trail to go see a friend that lived on Filbert Street. And I remember thinking that the guy in the blue van was going to hit the car because he blew through the damn light. I didn't really even have time to jump before I heard the wicked crunch and shattering glass. Cars crunching up like they were aluminum cans in a crusher. Back in the P.C. (pre cell phone) days, you couldn't get help so easily. But people who lived nearby called the cops. I went over to the cars with maybe four other people who pulled onto the median and got out to help. The cars were smashed up so freaking bad, you knew there wasn't a damn thing you could do. I just stood and watched. I couldn't believe they pulled someone alive from the flipped over flattened car. I didn't recognize Danny at first, then all of the sudden I put the pieces together and did. Then it hit me that his parents had to be dead. I told the paramedic I was his friend and asked if I could go to the hospital with him. The guy looked at me incredulously and asked if I'd been in the accident. I said that no, it was just a conincidence. He said I probably didn't want to see my friend like this. I think he figured Danny would be dead before they got him to the hospital. So did I, which is why I wanted to go. I ran home. The only time I'd run since junior high and the only time I've really run in the intervening years except when I heard someone breaking into my store. But that was just a short dash. I ran like three blocks that day. God, that was an awful day. Nothing funny about that one...
Simon

Watched V for Vendetta...

Maricel didn't care for the movie. She's decided that Alan Moore is a communist. Looking at his picture he does look a bit like Karl Marx. Communist isn't quite the joke word to Maricel as it is to be. But Marxist guerrillas aren't killing anybody I know. For those who pay way too much attention to my ramblings, my aunt and uncle weren't at Sunday dinner because they didn't want to leave Brian. Mom took some food out to them later. She called to say the cake Maricel and I sent was well-received. She apoligized for bringing my sister into this world. Well, not exactly. She apologized for my sister upsetting Maricel. Maricel was fine, I was the one who flipped out. Maricel could get another guy. I've reached the pinnacle here. I can't do any better.

She's not leaving me...

All she said after we left was, "Well, you said she was nuts."
"Oh yeah." I said.
"Guess she thinks every Filipino woman is a mail-order bride."
"I'll have to remember to confront her with her prejudices." I said. "I thought your opinions on terrorists were going to make her swallow her tongue."
"Your Grandpa liked them." She said.
"He's old school." I said.
"I tried to be nice." She said.
"Mom loves you." I said.
"I'm adorable." She said. "Or so you tell me."

I don't think my sister could have offended Maricel more...

had she spent a month carefully planning it. I'm not really sure how to describe it. I'm still dizzy and a little nauseous. It seemed pleasant enough. We arrived with our gooey butter cake in hand for a nice dinner with my parents, Grandpa and my sister. For reasons I can't even begin to fathom, Sis seems to think I bought Maricel in the mail. But that's not Marciel's fault, since she's an ignorant poverty-stricken third world girl forced to sell herself to a disgusting American comic book dealer. To which Maricel said something like, "Are you calling me a prostitute?"
Desperately trying to stop the volcano from spewing forth, I babbled something along the lines of "We met discusisng the X-Men in a forum."
"Sure." My Sissy said. "You hang out in dork chatrooms talking about superhereos." Then she asked my parents if they were embarrassed to have raised a son such as me who bought women.
Grandpa jumped in and asked Maricel if she'd ever watched NASCAR. Then he began to explain the history of the sport and the current standings in the race for the Nextel Cup. I went out in the garage to hang myself with some clothesline. Dad came out and suggested that I not. But I didn't really see any point to living.
"She gets like that." Dad said.
"You built that beast." I responded. "Destroy her!"
"Calm down." Dad suggested.
"The woman is working on a master's degree in education. She can type sixty words a minute. She's not a hooker!"
"Clearly." Dad said sensibly. "Your sister is..."
"Crazy! Crazy! And mean! Mean! And trying to ruin my freaking life!"
"She's just trying to save Maricel." Dad said.
"From me!" I said. "What's wrong with me."
"You're a man." Dad said. "We're the enemy."
"She's got no problem sleeping with the enemy." I said.
"Simon, that's my daughter you're talking about."
"Then you're the one to tape her mouth shut." I tossed him a roll of duct tape from the workbench.
"You guys are a little old for this stuff." Dad said as if I were the nutter butter.
"If she leave me..." I said.
"Nobody ever left someone they loved over their goofy siblings. Thank goodness or I'd be living alone." Dad said. He took my clothesline and took me inside and fixed a pretty strong Martini for me. Martini and NASCAR. What could be better.

This was my Sunday afternoon...

I wanted to stop half way up the steps for a rest...

but I did not. I was probably sweating and panting. Must impress female by showing I'm fit enough to climb stairs... I think I can...I think I can. What do you know? I actually could. Maricel held back and didn't sprint up ahead of me. I rang the bell and after a long pause and some noise inside a fairly hot looking blonde answered. It was definitely not Juanita. Half her size and a third of her age from the looks of her. She looked me up and down and did not seem impressed.
"Yeah?" She said.
"Is Danny here?" I asked feeling like a child coming over to play.
"No." She said.
"Uh, where is he?" I countered.
"Florida." She said.
"Florida?" I asked incredulously.
"Yeah, him and his nurse are in Florida. Some kind of health thing, the doctors think it's better for his health."
I hadn't been aware that Florida was good for paralysis.
"So he's in Florida with Juanita?"
"Yeah." She said. "I'm just the housesitter. I make sure nobody breaks in and I keep the mail box clear and put away the papers."
"I've been trying to get in touch with him." I said. "Is his e-mail and cell still the same."
"Same as what?" She asked. "As far as I know."
"I haven't heard back." I said.
"I don't mean to be rude, but maybe he doesn't want to talk to you. If he didn't even tell you he was going to Florida..."
"I guess you have a point." I said.
"Well if I hear from them, I'll make sure he knows you came over." She said. "I mean I can't let you in or anything 'cause I'm not allowed and I don't think I should give out his number or anything."
"I understand." I said. "Would you like to know who I am, so you can tell him I called?"
"Oh, yeah." She laughed.
"Simon Wolfe." I said and I paused to wait for her name. "Miss..."
"Carver." She said. "Heather Carver."
"Nice to meet you Heather." I said.
It really wasn't that nice to climb all those stairs to have a blonde ignore me, but there' no reason to be rude about it, is there?

See you in the funny papers...
Simon

What is this thing called exercise?

And why does my nearly perfect new best friend want me to do it? Troubling eh? She made me take a walk with her after the shop closed. Made me, I tell you! She looked at me and said, "Simon do you want to take a walk with me?" So there I was, cornered and forced to walk! The horror! The terror! The sidewalk is so hard. We went out to the overlook by the river. Heck of a view and the sign says it's the widest scenic overlook on the Maumee river between Indiana and Lake Erie. Pretty huh? My tax dollars at work and all. So while I was out and about, I decided we'd go up the road a bit and swing by Danny Anderson's house. It look odd, like nobody was there. Not neglected, but there weren't the usual planters of petunias that his nurse Juanita maintained during the summer. I hadn't noticed until now though I'd probably driven past a hundred plus times over the summer. So I decided to climb up the long flight of stairs and ring the bell. (You can get in on the ground floor from the alley in the back, that's why the paralyzed guy lives there.)

If you're dork enough to have enjoyed...

the previous series of jpgs, you might want to check out this site.

I had a good morning despite a bad night...

Dreams that looked like this gave way to about three hours of playing around under the covers. No I didn't say I did that for three straight hours. I said we played around. Which is a lot of fun when you aren't desperately sexually fustrated and longing to get to the main event. It invovled some of her dirtier attempts at fan fiction, a running joke that I choose not to get into and some cinnamon massage oil I picked up in Vegas. When breakfast time rolled around, I felt like this or maybe like this or this. Suffice it to say, the mood was a good one. I had a big bowl of Cocoa Puffs before unlocking the doors. Some days just rock.

See you in the funny papers...
Simon

I dreamed about Danny...

Back when he was in the hospital and tacked together with pins and stuck in a halo. It was all mixed up with Brian with a dash of SWSNBN added in. Just what the hell my subconcious was trying to tell me, I'm not sure I really want to know.

I sat with Brian for about an hour...

Just sitting, listening to the machine help him breathe. The first time I can remember him having an attack was when we were about six. I must have seen him have them before, cause I distinctly remember going to get his inhaler for him. I read aloud to him. I didn't want him to fall behind on the Marvel Civil War. He could look at the pictures when he felt better. I left a message for Danny Anderson after I left the hospital. When I came home Maricel was engrossed in reading back issues of Fables. We had cheese, crackers and some other assorted snack foods for our dinner and watched some Stargate. Then we looked through a cookbook to come up with a dessert to bring to Sunday dinner. We decided on this.

See you in the funny papers...
Simon

Mrs. NBN was concerned for her daughter.

We went upstairs to my living room to talk. She'd never been real fond of me. But here she was pleading with me to not press any charges. And while I was at it, I could give back her mother's earrings.
"I don't have the earrings." I said. "And they aren't in the closet where she was looking for them. My girlfriend and I cleaned it out the night before."
"Are you sure she didn't take them?" Mrs. NBN asked.
"Get the hell out of here." I said.
At least it was a brief encounter.

It doesn't seem much like working...

when you get to read comic books all day. At least that's what Maricel said. But I was minding the store. Didn't hurt to get a little reading in. I need to be current on the product if I'm going to discuss it with the customers. We were busier than usual. A lot of guys were coming in to get a look at Maricel. They were doing their best not to be obvious, but their best wasn't much. But they were buying and that was cool. I went upstairs to make us some sandwiches and came down to find eight customers in the store. I think I was violating fire codes. I had a surprise guest as well. Mother of SWSNBN showed up. Let's call her Mrs. NBN. I made her wait her turn until the other customers were taken care of. Cause I'm mean.

Maricel woke up with a nightmare...

Hospitals bring back bad memories. And so we went down and rearranged some shelves in the store, which caught Ellen's attention as she was stopping by the bakery for some doughnuts. They'll let cops come in before they open for doughnuts. She was just checking the burglars weren't stocking the store and also wanted to let me know that SWSNBN did get to spend the night in jail, though she'd surely make bail before the morning was out. This was more likely to be considered a domestic dispute. I wondered how that was possible since she doesn't live here. But I guess once you've shacked up with someone, it pretty much stays domestic forever and ever. I told her about Brian and she was kind of upset. I put on a pot of coffee and we had that along with some of the fresh doughnuts she had in hand.
"It was kind of fun to cuff her." Ellen said.
"Had you wanted to do that for a long time?" Maricel asked.
"Yeah." Ellen said.
"She seems kind of mean." Maricel said.
"Oh, she is." Ellen said.
"She wasn't always mean." I said.
"Yes she was." Ellen disagreed. "She just wasn't always mean to you."
Ellen looked through the new comic books and made her selections. She's still got some store credit from helping me out during the comic-con.
The action figure display looked a heck of a lot better when Maricel was finished with it. That probably didn't please Ellen because she's been wanting me to do something with it for months and months.
"Looks nice." Was all Ellen said.
"Maybe I should have listened to you." I said.
"No reason to start now." Was her parting shot. Mind you, this is my friend.

See you in the funny papers...
Simon

We went to bed about 2 in the morning.

I woke up about four with two thoughts in my head.
Thought #1: I'm going to have to watch Brian for the rest of my life or he'll die. If I had asked him if he was taking ephedra, he would have told me the truth. He will always tell me the truth if I press him. He won't tell his parents the truth, but for some reason I get the truth. If I'd had been supervising him as closely as I usually do, I would have caught it. But, as you know, I've had something else on my mind for the past few months. I don't know if I can do it, but I think I have to. I don't want Brian to die.

Thought #2: I have a girl friend who loves me just as I am. She LOVES the store that is my life. She LOVES comics and toys and shows about time travel. She cooks, she works, she prays with me when my idiot cousin stops breathing. She writes erotic comic fan fiction. She is erotic comic book fan fiction. Is this what I get for looking after Weezer the rest of my life? Because I have said aloud "I do nothing but take care of this idiot and this is what I get in return?" Because if this is what I get in return for looking after Brian. Okay, I can deal with it.

See you in the funny papers...
Simon

I'm getting this T-Shirt for Brian.

I don't know if it will do any good. But what the hell.

Brian went into cardiac arrest...

I don't know why, they said he was getting better. When Mom called they were still trying to bring him back, but by the time I got to the hospital (maybe eight minutes) his heart was at least beating again. It seems he was just taking some herbal diet supplements at perhaps eight to ten times the recommended dosage and that may have damaged his heart. His Mom found them in his room and showed them to his doctor. They've been banned in the U.S., but Weezer used the Internet (Damn Internet! No wait, I promised to never speak ill of it.) to buy some. He's always been terrified of getting fat like me. And being a lazy pot-smoking asthmatic, exercise is just not his thing. Jesus, if he wants to die so bad, why doesn't he just do it quick? But I know Brian doesn't want to die. He really kind of enjoys life in his own stupid way. Maricel got to meet Dad and my Aunt and Uncle. And out in the car, she took my hand and asked me if I'd like her to pray for him with me. And I did. God must love him, he's let him live this long. On a side note, thanks to everybody who has put in kind thoughts and prayers for Weezer. I know you miss him at the the shop. He's a big part of the ambiance. I wonder if God gets ticked that I never call unless I want something? Sharper than a serpents tooth...

Simon

Maricel was worried...

that SWSNBN had hurt my feelings with the "tub of lard" comment. So as we lay in bed, she was affectionately rubbing my pasty, doughy physique and making sure I knew that she loved me just as I am. I get that. I get that Maricel actually likes most of the things that SWSNBN disliked about me. One woman's trash is apparently another woman's treasure. My feeling weren't any more hurt than they were when I came home and found her gone. There's just a point beyond which someone can't hurt you any more. They can annoy you. And I am definitely annoyed. They can do two hundred dollars worth of damage to your back door and try to ruin your whirlwind romance. She could do all that for reasons I just don't get. But I don't think she can make me feel any worse.
"No wonder I couldn't find a girl." I said to Maricel. "I was looking on the wrong continent."
"And you were searching on land, when you should have been in cyberspace." She said.
"I'll never say a cross word about the Internet again." I said.
"I like it here so much." She said.
She could have meant America or Toledo or maybe my bed.
"Even with the bitchy blonde burglar?" I said.
"She barely even counts." Maricel said. "She can go live on a shelf with my big mistake."
"He ever break into your house?" I asked.
"No, I don't think he cared enough about me at the end to ever be bothered. And I did give him the jewelry back."
"If I had her freaking jewelry, I would have given back." I said. "Now I might just sell it to pay for my freaking door."
"See, I think you'd eventually give it to her sister." Maricel said. "But you might hold it until after her wedding."
"If I even had a clue what happened to them." I said. "I'm not spiteful. At least I didn't used to be, but I could be getting my spite on here."
Then the phone rang...

The #$*!ing back door was open...

BECAUSE SOMEONE BROKE THE WINDOW!!!! I called the police and Ellen was on duty. So guess who she caught tossing my house? Oh just guess? Why SWSNBN, of course. Ellen didn't shoot her, even though I asked politely.
"I want my earrings!" She demanded as if she'd not been caught breaking into my house.
"You just broke into my freaking house." I said.
"Well, you changed the locks. What the hell was I supposed to do." SWSNBN countered.
Ellen laughed at that one as did her partner.
"I don't have your earrings." I said.
"The hell you don't you spitelful little tub of lard." SWSNBN said. The look on her face when they handcuffed her was priceless.
She'd pulled everything out of the closets we'd just spent an evening arranging. I just sat down on the floor and beat my head against the wall a bit.
Maricel sat down beside me and grinned. "The bitch is in jail."
"She's so freaking high maintenance. That'll be beautiful." I said.
"How the hell did you end up with that?" She asked.
"She's a hot blonde." I admitted. "And she kind of used to be nice."
"Not as nice as I am." Maricel said and she kissed me. I mean really, really kissed me. Kissed me so good I forgot about the door and probably couldn't have told you SWSNBN actual name if you paid me.