A Bird In The Hand

You know how reflections on glass works, right?*  Well, often birds don't, and up at the cabin, they will often see the trees or sky in the windows and fly right into them.  Sometimes the birds are alright, sometimes they're not.

This happens literally every other time I come to the cabin.  And today, it happened twice (so far).  I went out back to check the first one, but I was barefoot and if there was a wounded bird lying in the weeds and bushes, I didn't see it.  So I went back inside, and maybe two minutes later, there came a heavy thump right behind me, at one of the two front windows. 

I did go out on the deck to investigate this one.

This one was a pretty yellow bird--though not a canary (I also don't know bird species), and it seemed grievously injured (though not dead).  I felt bad for it, and approached, expecting it to freak out and try to flee.

But this one didn't.  My guess is that it was too stunned to know what to do as this frightening, bad-smelling giant, who can't even finish a blog post (let alone a short story) was creeping up to it.  It did not struggle as I scooped my hand under it, but it stood in my palm as I lifted it toward my face to examine its wound.

Well, it looked very much like it had broken its bill (or jaw, if birds have them), and it looked at me with glassy black eyes as I wondered if a bird would die of the shock of this injury, or die slowly of starvation, which might be worse.

I've explained a time or three about my weird hyper-empathy, which I've had since I was a young child.**  Needless to say, life has beaten some of that out of me, but not all of it (the other night, there was a guy sleeping in a van in the parking lot, and I absolutely AGONIZED over whether I should go over and make sure he was okay.  I didn't want to bother him, and it was none of my business, but what if something was wrong, you know?  So I finally asked my boss what I should do, and he seemed to think it was a trick question.  "You, uh, come in and finish your rounds and we go home."  Ultimately, I went back to my station and zoomed in on the camera to get a good angle (and the license plate) in case the morning guy showed up the next day and found a dead guy there.  Despite the vehicle being gone by the next shift, I still don't think I did the right thing.

Anyhow, the bird didn't seem to be suffering, unless me holding it in my hands was distressing it, and suspecting that, I set it down on the bench next to me.  After a moment, it closed its eyes, which I took as a bad sign.

I got up and went in to get my camera, though I figured I wouldn't do a blog post about it if the bird died, because I don't BELIEVE I have when birds have broken their necks while I'm up here.  But when I returned, the yellow bird was standing up, and after I took a couple of pictures, it roused itself and flew to the tree directly across from the deck, where it hopped from branch to branch, apparently no worse for wear.  I'm happy for it, really.  I had (briefly) considered putting it in a box or something to take it home and see if my niece might want to keep it as a pet (or see if she could keep it), since she's a sucker for abandoned or wounded animals, but honestly, this is better, that it took off and is (presumably) living its life.

I wish I had gotten a picture of it in my hand, though.

Oh, and it pooped while I was holding it.  I didn't mention that bit.  Probably shouldn't have mentioned it here.

 

*Actually, I don't, to be honest.  I'm not very scientifically literate.  I don't know how combustion engines, vinyl records, Slurpee machines, or colostomy bags work, I only know that they do.

**If I haven't told you this embarrassing detail, I used to believe that plants and rocks and fish and Republicans had feelings, and would agonize over which of my stuffed animals to play with, because the ones I didn't would feel left out or abandoned.  And while I'm not NEARLY that bad anymore, I still feel for the homeless or the ugly or the disabled people I see at work, and will allow children at the library to use my phone to call their parents, despite being told not to.  Heck, I even felt sorry for the My Pillow Guy when Jimmy Kimmel was interviewing him and, despite his temper and mental illness, may still have been a human being down deep.    

Rish Outcast 338: In Security 12 (That's Our Guy)

Rish tells more library stories, and worries that being too honest will make him look bad. Has his empathy started to run low?

Case in point: When there came a threat to the building, Rish happened to be the one who was "just sitting there." Is your job as boring as mine?



Care you to download the episode at THIS LINK?

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Swear you to click on THIS LINK?

Logo by Gino "Scare You" Moretto.

Haunted Library Presentation - One Month Off

If you support me on Patreon (and shame on you if you don't), you may have heard that I've been trying to get a "haunted library" presentation to happen at my place of employment for a year now.  When I found out the library was unwilling to pay even a single dollar to the local folklorist/ghost hunter, someone suggested I just do the presentation on my own.

And that appears to be exactly what we're doing, one month from today, with me as the sole presenter (I had arranged it with one of the librarians, thinking we'd present it together, but she seems keen to step back and let me do all the heavy-lifting*).  I have been thinking about what I'll say and which stories I will tell, and we did put out a call for other library employees (and visitors) to share their own experiences, but I imagine I will ad-lib most of it, since to me, it's not that different from podcasting.

I will keep you posted . . . especially if I see any ghosts between now and then.

*Although she did put together a flier promoting the event that showed up last Friday. 

I Discuss "The Measure of a Man" with Marshal Latham and Keith Teklits

 A long time ago, I got together with Marshal Latham and Keith Teklits to watch the extended version of the excellent Star Trek: TNG second season episode* titled "The Measure of a Man."  It's the one where Data goes on trial to determine if he is a person or property.

We discussed the episode for their "Trekkin'" series over at the Journey Into... podcast.  Did I cry?  You have to ask???  And it's been long enough since we recorded it that I look forward to listening to it RIGHT HERE.

*Yeah, the second season IS the worst one.  But even it had some gems in it.

Damned Poltergeist Again

 I was doing my rounds at the end of the night, and I stumbled upon this . . . 

Oh my god.  

Building blocks piled as high as conceivably possible, dangerously so.  This is it, veritable proof of spirits beyond the mortal veil!  Evidence of the afterlife!  And those wandering spirits love playing with Legos!

Or, I suppose, it could've been some kid that did it.  Hmm.

Podcast That Dares 71: Landlady & Skin

Rish performs two Roald Dahl short stories: 1959's "The Landlady," about a young man looking for a boarding house in a new town; and 1952's "Skin," about an old man in Paris with a very unusual tattoo.

To download the episode, just Right-Click HERE.

To support me on Patreon, click HERE.

Logo by Gino "Skinlady" Moretto.

How Do They Know?

So, this one is a little bit weird.  

As you may know, Spock, I am on YouTube way too much.  When I'm working in the morning, when I'm running at night, when I'm driving to the cabin, when I'm trying to go back to sleep after waking up at seven to confer with ye olde china oracle, when I'm in the storage unit fighting the combined sinister forces of entropy and disorganization.  And part of the reason for that is the algorithm, which pitches me videos that it thinks I might like (also, the damned AutoPlay keeps switching itself on every few weeks, showing me one video after another until I remember to turn it off again).  

And advertisements are like that too--the website and/or phone is tracking my preferences, gauging my interests, scrutinizing my habits, and, in certain cases, seeming to be reading my mind.

Look at these two screen-captures from my phone, from different days, different videos.  See anything in common?

Take, for instance, that I keep seeing this ad, at the bottom of whatever I'm watching.  It's this girl, in a black and white striped shirt, with some kind of harlequin makeup on or something . . . and she's, like, exactly all the things I'm most attracted to.  She couldn't be more up my alley if she had a tattoo of Spider-man right below her bellybutton.*

But it gives me pause.  How do they know?

Look, I understand a phone knowing that I like Yu-Gi-Oh cards, and "Knight Rider," and operas about sinners burning in Hell, and kittens dressed in fighting armor, and bikini pictures of Cloris Leachman.  Who doesn't?  But I'm not even sure this person is a real flesh 'n blood girl, or that the algorithm calculated what I would most quickly notice and/or pay attention to, and were it your phone it would've conjured a very different girl, or boy, or old person, or in Marshal Latham's case, Muppet (he is deeply unwell).

And honestly, it doesn't really matter how they know, in the end.  I noticed it one night, I re-noticed a couple of nights later, and I started doing a screenshot every time after that (the accompanying images represent a week or more).  So, in a way, they totally succeeded.  But me thinking a girl in an ad is attractive is one thing (and blogging about it), but me actually CLICKING ON the ad, which I have not yet done, is very different.  So, they haven't really succeeded, have they?

Yet.

*This is true--I'm not really a tattoo guy.  Sorry.

I Narrate "Hunters Unlucky," Now On YouTube

Back in 2013, Abigail Hilton took a chance on a green and hungry audiobook narrator and hired me to perform her first novel, "Hunters Unlucky."

Of course, we fought like creasia and ferryshaft (I still remember her calling me at work accusing me of trying to take the book away from her*), but eventually would come to understand each other.  And we're, like, six "Hunters" books later, and our productions tend to run more smoothly and with less pressure on either side, including this year, when I narrated the first act of her sequel "Thrive."

"Hunters Unlucky" tells of an island of sentient animals that have been at war with the two main species, the ferryshaft (a sort of cross between a deer and a fox, though Abbie may have to correct me) and the creasia (big, ferocious cats).  The main character, Storm, is a young ferryshaft who, despite being small and relatively defenseless, is faster and more agile than his enemies. But Storm will have to be more than fast to survive . . . he'll have to be clever.

It's an excellent book, and while there are many follow-ups, this one stands alone as a self-contained epic adventure.  And while there are a few things I would change, were I narrating it now, I am immensely proud of my performance in it (and would take far longer to do the book today than then, despite a decade of learning since then).  And though the later books get far more adult, this first one is pretty universal, though there's plenty of good old fashioned violence throughout.

Abbie has a sequel in the works she would like to raise money for via Kickstarter, but you can listen to all twenty-four hours of "Hunters Unlucky" RIGHT HERE over on YouTube.  Let's see if you're fast enough to survive.

*Which has literally happened to her in the years since then, with strangers downloading her audio and then trying to sell it as though they owned it.

Rish Outcast 337: What It's All About

Big Anklevich joins Rish for his new sketch "What It's All About." A father and son drive along, contemplating the meaning of songs.

Wikipedia may disagree, however.

Remember, you can download the file by Right-Clicking HERE.

Don't forget, you can support my Patreon by clicking HERE.

Logo by Gino "All About What It Is" Moretto.

Till All Are One

These past few days, we lost a bunch of celebrities, and I tried to put a little tribute to them on Facebook, but I didn't really have anything to say about Hayden Panettiere (I mourned her loss, but never met or worked with her or . . . a third thing) or Dolly Parton (although, wow, it was nice to hear such fantastic tributes to her, half for her talent and half for, well, being nice).

I just posted about Tim Curry (who I also never met or saw in person), but I figured I'd say a few words about Peter Cullen, who I did see at a voiceover panel at San Diego Comic Con one time.  But even if I hadn't, well . . .

This was a "life-sized" Optimus they had at SDCC in 2010.  I realize now that it just looks like a cardboard backdrop or Photoshop, but no, it was real and you could "stand" in his hand.

I was a much bigger fan of the Decepticons than the Autobots as a kid, particularly the ones voiced by Frank Welker, but dang, when they killed Optimus Prime, leader of the Autobots, in 1986, that was something.

What I found strange (though not so much anymore) is that, in the intervening years, the loss of Optimus Prime became more and more significant to me, especially when discussing it with others of my generation.  I went to a signing for the 1986 movie, and while waiting in line, I saw grown men shed tears when Prime says, "Do not grieve.  Soon, I shall be one with the Matrix."  

And Cullen's performance was a really significant part of that.  His work was always excellent, but Optimus had a gravitas to him, a decency and caring that made him the kind of leader everybody wishes they had in their lives, to give them a reason to fight for the right side, and who will always be there when they need him.

The fuggers will say, "Oh, that show was just a half hour toy commercial," and even though they're pretty much right, the show was more than that (and they're still fuggers).  Marvel and Sunbow pumped real character and talent and charm and heart and sweat into that cartoon, to the point where my friends and I knew not just characters' names and what they turned into, but their personalities as well.

You can never predict what will have an effect on someone, especially in childhood.  But, having said that, when Dolly Parton died this week, her loss was felt by people who hadn't even been born the last time she had a hit song--who were literally too young to have EVER heard a Parton song on the radio.  And yeah, as an adult, it's always been emotional to see the Autobot leader die . . . but I imagine it'll hit even harder the next time I see that.

Cullen lived to be eighty-six, and has voiced Optimus Prime for forty-two years or so, and was also known as the voice of Eeyore (Winnie the Pooh), Monterey Jack (Rescue Rangers), Venger (Dungeons & Dragons), Mario (Saturday Supercade), and I just discovered, did the vocalizations for the title character in 1987's PREDATOR.  Not too shabby.

Till all are one, Mr. Cullen.  Until that day.

Tim Curry R.I.P.

My Uncle Jim died in September of 1990, and before too long, my mom came home from cleaning out his place with a box of LP records, which I pretty much claimed as my own.  There were Elton Johns, The Human League, David Bowie, Gilda Radner, Rod Stewart, and Billy Joel in there, but the one album that most grabbed me, that I listened to the most times, was the soundtrack to THE ROCKY HORROR PICTURE SHOW.

The songs really grabbed me, and not having seen the movie, I sort of imagined what might be going on in my head as I listened, and who the characters might be.  Of course, the one that most clearly self-describes is Doctor Frank-N-Furter, who proclaims that he's just a sweet transvestite from Transexual, Transylvania (and that he's a sort of Doctor Frankenstein besides, making a man up in the lab, and that when he saw KING KONG he wanted to be dressed the same as Faye Wray).  

I shared the soundtrack with my sister, and we used to listen to it together, first on cassette (I had made a copy from Jim's record) and later on CD (and even later on mp3, I suppose), and one October, I dressed as Frank N. Furter for Halloween, which some of my coworkers suspected was just an excuse to wear fishnet stockings.

I didn't actually see the movie until 2003 when my sister and I went to a midnight screening in Santa Monica, where they drew big Vs on our foreheads and the two of us were "deflowered" by the entire cast in the front of the theater.  

While I didn't think the film itself was particularly good (and I didn't go back and see it again since that night), I have never not loved the songs in it, and very often think of my Uncle Jim when I hear them.

Oh, this is a roundabout way of mentioned that Tim Curry died this week.  He was eighty, and had been wheelchair-bound since he had a stroke in 2012, but he still did appearances and occasional roles (mostly voice-work, though he did play the Criminologist in the ROCKY HORROR remake (the one with Victoria Justice), who was in a wheelchair in the 1975 film.

A delightfully weird dude, he had a bunch of famous roles, from the Butler in CLUE to Long John Silver in MUPPET TREASURE ISLAND, from the awesome Darkness in LEGEND (a film I've never otherwise liked) to the concierge in HOME ALONE 2, and of course, Pennywise in the 1990 IT miniseries.  But to me, he was always that sweet transvestite, and so I wanted to quote one of his songs when he passed.

After much deliberating*, I picked:

"I've seen blue skies through the tears in my eyes:

And I realise, I'm going home."  

That's from the end of the album/movie, and I listened to the song as I went for a run that evening.  Cool.

In a way, Curry's only-partial recovery from his stroke enabled him to see how beloved he had become (and not just from Rocky Horror devotees), with him doing panels and photo ops at conventions in the last years of his life, and getting honors that might not have been given had his mortality been so visibly clear.  I'm not sure if I expressed myself well there--I just meant that, when we see our relatives or colleagues or heroes ailing, we're often more likely to tell them we appreciate them than if everything's fine until . . . it isn't.

Regardless, I never knew my Uncle Jim was sick or that the last time I saw him would be the last time I saw him, but I think he'd have been thrilled that one of his records made such an impact on me.  My uncle was not Tim Curry, but hey, we feel what we feel.

*This is only semi-amusing (and really, what in my blog is ever more than that?), but I was trying to remember the various songs to put a quote next to a photo of Curry on Facebook (since I couldn't very well put "Come up to the lab, and see what's on the slab"), and I did a search for "I've got to get out of this trap, before this decadence saps my will" (that one is Don't Dream It), and the phone came back with "This appears to be a reference to a song in The Rocky Horror Picture Show, however, if it is instead a description of how you are feeling, maybe you should seek counseling."
I kid you not.  I know A.I. gets a bad rap (and often rightly so), but come on, that was pretty nice.

Nate & Hayes and Marshal & Rish

I like to watch Indiana Jones knock-offs with Marshal over at the Outfield Excursions podcast.  And when it was my turn to pick, I remembered that John Hughes's first produced screenplay was NATE & HAYES, a pirate adventure from 1983 starring Tommy Lee Jones. .  But *is* it an Indiana Jones knock-off?

Check it out HERE to find out!

Rish Outcast 336: I Hate What You Like

Rish talks about seeing opposition to things people love (brought on by backlash to OBSESSION and TOY STORY 5) and wonders why that is. Is it human nature? Is he guilty of it himself? Will he talk about Olivia Rodrigo again?  And of course, recent American politics comes into it as well. Can we still be friends?

Screenshot from just this week.

Note: So, this episode turned out much longer than it was supposed to (*especially* the Patreon version), because I mislabeled one of the recordings and thought it was lost, then tried to replace it with some (now-redundant) additions, only to find the lost recording after I was nearly finished editing. Sorry, but not super sorry.

You can download the file by Right-Clicking HERE.

You can support me on Patreon by clicking HERE. 

Logo by Gino "I Ate What You Like" Moretto.

Back On The Horse

Of productivity, not heroin.  Sorry.

So, I had a deadline to get an audiobook finished, and it became my priority, my podcasts being secondary (or tertiary, or whatever not-a-priority is).  But as of today, I have it all finished (barring inevitable retakes), so I'm back in the podcasting game.

Next up is an episode about hating what is popular, followed by a Bram Stoker story, followed by a sketch with me and Big Anklevich, followed by another In Security episode.  After that, I guess I'd better find a story to present, either one by me or one by someone else.  I am also considering wrangling Marshal Latham and Keith Teklits to do an episode about stuff people (not necessarily us) find overrated.

So, worry not.  The worst is yet to come.

Is This What I've Become?

You may or may not follow me over at Facebook, but I will sometimes take a picture with a potty training book from the children's library and try to make an amusing caption for it.  YMMV, of course.*

I walk past that section of books approximately ten times a week, so it's something to keep me occupied . . . since I'm definitely not writing stories. 

Anyway, in the local toy group, someone mentioned they were looking to buy a Galactus figure (which I still have one of), and another guy posted, "Try the poop book guy."

His reply was "Poop book guy?"

Then: "I forget his name, but he likes poop books alot."

Well, that's where we are, I suppose.

Guess you know what to put on my headstone, huh?

Big Anklevich made this for me, specifically for this post.  Thanks, I guess.

*I alternated between Your Mileage May Vary and the abbreviation . . . and now I've done neither.

Check For Radiation

This is a very brief one, but the last time it rained, water was getting into the underground parking garage at work, and it was pooling along the walls and under people's cars.  And under my car, specifically, I thought it made a familiar pattern, so I took a picture:

What does this look like to you?  Is it my own brain playing tricks on me, or is that the spitting image of a famous fictional(?) character?  And is Tokyo safe right now?

No More Embarrassing Than Usual

 I saw a young lady walking out of the library today that I hadn't seen in months.  I stopped her and said, "Didn't you used to come in here, like, every single day?"  

She asked me how long I had worked here (guess that makes me pretty darn memorable) and when I told her, she said, "Yes, I used to come in here pretty much every night to study."  

"That's right!" said I, and I guess she sensed I found her attractive because she said, "I used to come here with my boyfriend."  

"Right," I lamented.  

"He's not my boyfriend anymore," she added, to which I exclaimed, "Thank god," before she finished, "...he's my husband now."

Ah.  Well, that is, was, uh, is a good thing then.  "I, uh, guess it worked out then," I said, and she walked away.  Not a huge embarrassment, but there's a wedding tonight I have to wait for, so I wrote it up anyway.

You Sweet Summer Child

There was a toy sale the other day, and I somehow convinced my nephew to come with me and help me set up and watch the booth*, which was a major coup for me.  We traded off watching the booth and looking at what other vendors had, and to my nephew's surprise, he probably sold seven to nine items, making it well worth his while.

One of the times it was my turn to watch the booth, he went off to look, and came back with a purchase from somebody down the way.

"What did you get?" I asked him.

He had a Star Wars Black Series figure in his hand, and said, "It was only five dollars.  I didn't even look it up, I just grabbed it!"

"What is it?" I asked again.

He held it up so I could see.  It was Jar Jar Binks.

"I don't know who this guy is," my nephew said, "but he's so cool, I just had to get him."

"Huh," I said, and still say.

*It's terrible to go to one of these things and not be able to sneak away and see what other vendors have, or worse, have to ask a stranger to watch my booth while I run to the bathroom.  I've done it before, and while it's embarrassing, I usually find a couple of friendly folks who are happy to help.

Rish Outcast 335: In Security 11 (Are You Seeing This?)

After a bit of political talk--what can one do against such reckless hate?--Rish talks about a possible intruder in the building.

Also, dealing with criticism, a book signing, A.I., sickness, a possible Halloween program, a couple with unbelievable stamina. And Trump--did he need to be brought up in this episode? Probably.

If you want to download the episode, Right-Click HERE.

If you want to support me on Patreon, click HERE.

Logo by Gino "Are You Peeing This?" Moretto.

Probably Not A Ghost

The jury is out on whether I believe in ghosts, though it has been interesting hearing people's ghost stories and theories here at the library, but I saw another one today.

If you look here, you can see that the woman entering the building appears to be missing her face.

It's not just missing details, but it seems to be completely smooth.

Yes, Rish, but that is a notoriously shitty camera, you might be saying.  Uh huh, but look at the side view here:

It's complelely smooth.  At least it looks to be.

Now, you MAY be saying, "Rish, you did this to her, you twisted phuck.  You took an image and erased her face in some kind of Photoshop program."  To which, I say, Hey, you're giving me an awful lot of credit.  I suppose I could figure out how to do that, but to what end?  

There was just a faceless woman in the library, and I noticed it, otherwise I would never have written this post.  

You understand.

I tried to get a close-up before she reached the stairs.  It didn't help.

Rish Outcast 334: My Friend of Misery 5

In the final segment of the novella, Brielle Montrose has moved far away from her brother...but does that mean she is also far from his supernatural associate?

I hope you have enjoyed this (lengthy) presentation. I think I know which one I plan to do next, but if you have a suggestion, feel free to put it out there.

If you want to download the episode, Right-Click HERE.

If you want to support me on Patreon, click HERE.

Logo by Gino "My Friend" Moretto.

Marshal & I Consume Some BURNT OFFERINGS

Maybe a bit overcooked in places.  In the latest Outfield Excursions episode*, Marshal and I take a look at 1976's BURNT OFFERINGS, where a family moves into an old house, one that might be haunted . . . or might actually be something worse.

The movie wasn't spectacular, kids . . . but the ending sure was.  Check out our conversation HERE!

*In actuality, this is not the latest episode--or even the second-to-latest episode.  If you support Marshal on Patreon, it turns out you can hear these episodes when they are new, not two or three months old.

Yub Nub?

Me n' Big Anklevich were just the right age to love the Ewoks.  The generation before ours equated them with all that went wrong with Star Wars (in 1983-85, as short-sighted as that seems), and later generations had their own problems.  But hey, I like the Ewoks just fine, and had all the action figures Kenner made, except Logray (ironically, one of the least-valuable).

But Hasbro doesn't make a lot of them anymore.  I remember Toys R Us had a boxed set of Ewoks that was worth its weight in gold, even though they were mostly the same figure over and over with different accessories.

Anyway, that is unnecessary backstory that serves to a) provide context, and more importantly, b) to pad out this blog post a little bit.  The point of all this is that, when I was crossing the lawn the other day from parking my car, I saw something that had been dropped in the front yard, and I paused.

To my eyes, the first thing I thought I was seeing was an Ewok.  This looked like an action figure of a random Ewok, random enough I didn't immediately recognize it.  But Hasbro has done a lot of them over the decades.  And some of those figures have become pretty valuable recently (but only to people around my age, but with a lot more money).

So, back to the mysterious object in the grass.  It didn't look like an Ewok that belonged to me, but my nephews sometimes go to thrift stores and have bought Star Wars stuff in the past, so I thought it might have been dropped by one of them.

Of course, let me interrupt the narrative right here with a bit of metacommentary.  It may be that I look and see an Ewok where anybody else would look and see something else, and you, having seen the photos, know exactly where this is going.  But it looked like an Ewok to me, and in posting the picture here, it still pretty much does.

But no, it was not an action figure of any sort, Star Wars or otherwise.  Upon much-too-close examination, what was in the grass in our front yard was merely a dog turd.  Fun.

I don't rule out the possibility that the dog turd originated from the forest moon of Endor, though.

Rish Outcast 333: My Friend of Misery 4

Rish presents the fourth chunk (a technical term) of his novella "My Friend of Misery."

Can Brielle Montrose convince her brother to abandon his new best pal? Or is it far too late?

If you want to download the episode, Right-Click HERE.

If you want to support me on Patreon, click HERE.

Logo by Gino "My End of Misery" Moretto.

Gutterball

There was a toy sale my cousin and I went to in April, and as we were putting out our wares, we came across a Spongebob Squarepants Happy Meal toy that belonged to neither of us.  As there were bound to be many children there that day (as well as rain, wind, and hail), my cousin figured he could put a sticker that said "Free" on it so someone who actually wanted it could take it off our hands.

Typical of me, I made a sticker for it that said "FREE (Warning: toy is cursed)" on it.  No, not funny in the slightest, but when has that ever stopped me?

And a few minutes later, a child did indeed see the Spongebob toy and show it to his mother, who read my sticker and said, "No!  Put it back, it says it's cursed."  And . . . well, yeah, I guess that was a little bit funny.

Anyway, once the torrential rain came down, the ball was forgotten, and the next week, when we got together to sell, my cousin took the "cursed" sticker off of it, and just gave it away without comment.  End of story.

But today was another toy sale, in a much, much smaller venue, and both my cousin and I had tables next to each other.  The organizer of the event had found a little plastic ball while setting up, and put it on his desk so that anyone who wanted it could take it (for free).  I mentioned it to my cousin, and we both had the same idea: the ball was free, sure, but it was cursed.

Anyhow, the toy selling day came and went without much incident.*  I sold only two or three things (might only have been two), but my cousin did better, and I really see these as social outings more than all-or-nothing business trips, so it was a fair day.  We were packing up our stuff and carrying it to my cousin's car, when I looked down at the gutter.  There was the ball Jwill had had at his table, lying between the sidewalk and the street.

It was easy to imagine an unlucky child leaving the venue, his cursed ball in hand, and starting to cross the road before being flattened by a Cybertruck that, true to form, didn't even stop to apologize.  And there was that ball again, just waiting for the next poor soul to pick it up.

*The only incident of measure, not really even worth mentioning, was that I had offered to bring an expensive toy (one selling for between $140 and $150 on eBay), but had told people I would be asking $120 for it, and when I spoke to my nephew about the possibility of it reaching $200 or so around Christmas, he said, "Then why let it go for less?" because he knows me well enough to see me selling it for $100 or even $80 because I'm incapable of sticking to my guns.  So, I told him before I left that I would stick to my guns and not sell it for less than what I was asking for.  My cousin told me the same thing ("Just say no when someone offers you fifty"), and I vowed to be tough for the first time ever.  So, when a couple of people asked me its price (even though it said it had $120 right on it), I told them I couldn't go lower.  But one guy wouldn't stop needling me about doing just that.  I told him, "Yeah, I could go lower, but I'm not going to on this one."  But he just wouldn't stop ("Nobody's bought it for $120 yet--just drop the price"), and toward the end of the day, after a stranger texted me and said he'd give me full price for it if I still had it that afternoon, this guy--who is not a stranger, and I have gone as far as to drive to my sister's house to get an item from her basement to sell to him--came up to me (this was maybe the fourth time that day), and said, "Okay, here's my final offer: $105," I said, "Sorry, it's not for sale anymore," and I took it off the table and set it aside.  
He did not respond well to this.  "Okay, great," he said, and angrily walked back to his booth (across the room), upset that I had wasted so much of his precious time (I had bought three things from his own booth, which I suppose I regret now).  He hadn't previously been a friend of mine or anything, but after today, he never would be.

Rish Outcast 332: You're My Obsession

Rish is head over heels for this 2026 Horror movie OBSESSION, directed by Curry Barker, which has made a ton of money and garnered a bunch of praise. And while Rish tries to skirt spoilers, here's one: he never quite manages to properly explain why the movie was so scary to him.

While we're at it, why not talk about John Collier's "The Chaser," adapted in the first season of The Twilight Zone?

Warning: TMI and thematic spoilers.

Download the file directly by Right-Clicking HERE.

Why don't you support me on Patreon HERE?  You afraid or something?

Logo by Gino "You're My Depression" Moretto.