IAHF List:

Twas 2 am t'other day down at Peace Arch border crossing, and the Homeland Security geek who approached my car had a certain air about him that said somethin like "I like workin' graveyard shift cause life don' make no sense otherwise".

Anyway, it wasn't your usual conversation. "Where ya from bud?" He says, casting a world weary eye over the scow. "Point Roberts" came my fatigued response.

"Ah, the BOB, eh?" he says, "whatcha hidin' from up there?" he queried. "Live there" says I. "I know all about the BOB" he says as he narrows his slits as if trying to bore deep into the side of the scow as if trying to peer inside my trunk without opening it, lookin' for the BC Bud I'm sure he suspected was in there, but which I never touch.

"Where ya goin, California?"

 "Nope" "Even WORSE" I reply. "I'm goin' to the District of CRIMINALS!" Says I with a huge caca eatin' grin.

He smiled back a big gap toothed smile that had barroom brawl written all over it, never looked at my passport, and I was off into the night, bound for SeaTac and the land of the plastic smile, far from the land of Bob.

Which brings me back to my message: Send LAWYERS, GUNS, 'n MONEY!! Got us a WAR on in The BOB!

Is it CODEX? Do I hear you ask?

No, had to put Codex on hold for a little while anyway, even though it never really goes away, this is something a tad more mundane, but I feel as though if I don't fight this one, I could really wish I had.

Its sorta like being forced to deal with some low life cretin in a parkin' lot who has the gall to saunter over in broad daylight and starts ta ralph all over yer shoes, or something like that, only in this case it has to do with a pack of misguided mo-rons who

call themselves the Point Bob Parks Board, and their leader is a venomous silver haired blood drinkin' matron who is meaner than the bleedin' piles that clearly underly her ignorant treachery as her misguided crew seek to lay upon us one most unwanted...

Verizon Cell Phone Tower which when combined with the Microwave towers over at Whidbey Telephone over on Johnson Rd. threaten to irradiate the gray matter outa the kids over at the primary school who simply don't deserve the melanoma, the carcinoma, the depression, the what have you that comes from such sheer mindlessness.

Have a gander at this for some food for thought, eh? Meet the woman whose 'Ninja suit' has allowed her to re-enter a dangerous world of mobiles and microwaves after 18 years  

I want to add that this is not a joke. I confirmed the truth of this awful article by calling Hitek Industries in the UK and they confirmed that they do indeed manufacture these special protective garments and they are going to email me additional information.... 

So............ its 4:32 am, and I shouldn't be writin' this. I should be in the land of nod, not thinkin' about this craziness here in the Bob......... but I had to get up to write this........ and I'm gonna tell ya why:

See, this could be YOUR town.... and theres little fires like this that need puttin' out all over America, all over Canada, all over the UK, Europe, Australia, New Zealand, Antarctica, wherever and it sort of occurred

to me that if I could depict this small brush fire in a way that might capture some of your.... imaginations, and mebbe make it seem humourous, and even FUN in some ways to go out into your community and LOOK FOR TROUBLE the way I look for it everywhere I go, then maybe some of YOU will get sorely pissed, and open up a few cans of whup ass yourselves!

Yesterday, Steve, Hyacin, and I waded into the Parks Board Meeting with MURDER in our eyes....Cool

Wanna hear what happened?????

Will send you the proverbial "REST" of the story if ya hep us by slidin' us somea that green stuff that web sites are built from, that legal fees are paid from.....


Thars a PAYPAL link at (or see our snail mail address at the end) and we can get that special site up with all our correspondence and research and then you'll be able to clearly SEE all the cans of whup ass we been openin' up roun' here on these low life miscreants, cause while a cell phone is kinda like stickin' a camel non filter upside yer brain, a cell phone tower can be likened to a SMOKESTACK, and I'll be DAMNED if they're gonna put one near me, only way will be over my DEAD BODY, eh?

So.................. Send LAWYERS, GUNS, 'n MONEY and if any overflows I'll just slip on down through Peace Arch crossin' when my favorite hippy friend is on duty to lemme slip on thru, and

I'll catch the closest RED EYE back to the District of Criminals, to the land of the Plastic Smile, cause sometimes even I need a break from the Land 'o Bob, and the road ta hell was PAVED with good intentions..... Heres some more interestin' sites ta ponder 'bout this badass scenario Innocent: