Let's Get Crazy

Or not. It’s Valentine’s Day. People should be crazy for each other, not going insane.

Not only do we have astronauts freaking out and driving in diapers to take out fictitious love rivals, ESP falsely accused one of my closest friends of something. Fortunately, no one believes ESP. Thank goodness because I twisted my ankle a little bit slipping in the snowstorm and it would be painful to have to kick ass in my Catboots in this condition.

And then there is poor Anna Nicole, who even in death can’t seem to get a moment’s peace. Yes, I know she was a train wreck waiting to happen. I heard a quote on TV saying if Marilyn Monroe was a “candle in the wind”, then Anna Nicole was a matchstick in a hurricane. No doubt, but I liked her anyway. Apparently, so did at least a half dozen or so men claiming to be the father of her baby. I’m betting that the father of that baby is J. Howard Marshall, Anna Nicole’s late billionaire husband. Rumor has it that he had his sperm frozen and Anna Nicole giving birth to his heir would probably guarantee her the money in a legal battle over his estate. While Anna Nicole’s current husband, Howard K Stern (not to be confused with the other sleazy Howard Stern), is rather sleazy, I don’t think he’s an idiot.

On top of all of this chaos, it seems the legal system has also decided that my neighbor, Crazy Eddie is fit to live among normal people once again. The last time I saw Crazy Eddie was about three years ago when a SWAT Team blocked off the street and took him out of the house. I know he had broken into another neighbor’s house in the middle of the night just prior to that. They didn’t want to prosecute, though, so I’m sure there was another reason. He did stand in the front door naked every morning. Criminal, yes, but I’m sure that alone didn’t warrant a SWAT Team.

Crazy Eddie is huge and claims to be a fitness instructor. Well, he would be one he says except that the people who are always following him keep getting him fired. Since he can’t work, he bothers the neighbors. He came over to my house once and asked me out on a date. When I told him no,he screamed that I broke into his house and stole his deodorant (gag). I told him to leave. Later that night, his brother, The One Eyed Jack came over with an apology note written on a paper bag.

The One Eyed Jack isn’t quite as scary as his sibling, but he is equally “out there”. He is also unemployed and spends his entire day sitting in his car pleasuring himself and going door to door asking people if he can borrow some light blue shirts, which are the only thing he wears. The One Eyed Jack gets a new car every year, too. Not that he probably doesn’t need one, but no one can figure out exactly how. Maybe between all of the money Crazy Eddie and The One Eyed Jack save on pants every year, they can afford it. I don’t know. Even with my vivid imagination, I couldn’t make this stuff up.