Revenge

Date: Aug 9 1994

Ok, so it's time for yet another episode in RJ's Most Excellent Adventure. I really don't have time for this, but the real reason I write this stuff is not so you guys can laugh at my misfortune, but so I can read this stuff years later and remember stuff. This is my form of diary.

So recently while returning from Germany, since I needed a extension cord with a German receptacle that I could plug my DISCman adapter into so I could use it at work, I was detained, beat up, and generally harrased by English immigration. Probably because of my charming personality. They also seized my passport, and gave me a letter telling me where I had to reside, that I could not work - even for free, and to have a visit with them in 2 weeks. I was not amused.

So the other day I notice that there was this car parked in our street with some dude reading the same newspaper for hours. I called the police to tell them that there might be a suspicious dude there. They show up, talk to the guy, and then go away. I call them back and ask what's happening. I get a vague answer and get the impression he's an under-cover cop. cool thinks I, he's watching some evil dangerous dude. Then I get smart and figure out the evil dangerous dude is me - its immigration. Ok, this means war.

So that night I get an empty shoe-box, and make sure he sees me sneaking outside, climbing the fence into my backyard, and bury the box in the dead of night. Then I sneak back and go through the motions of going to bed. A half hour later, he's in the back yard digging it up. hohoho. A quick call to the police, and they haul him away - shovel and shoe-box and all. hahhaha.

The next day he's back in the car outside. Wait till night. Then I go up to the bedroom window over-looking the street, turn out all the lights and use my flashlight to send in morse-code 'The bananas are ready'. The next morning I get in the car, drive a quarter mile away to a phone booth on top of a hill where I can see my house with some binoculars. hohoho...Look who's breaking into my house. Anonymous call to the police. hahahha. They catch him in my house with a knapsack and my bananas! Away he goes again.

The next day he's back and he looks pissed (thats 'American' for real angry). Have to wait till night again. That night I sneak away and head off to where I work, and with some latex gloves, a garbage bag and the help from several thousand rabbits that live there, I get to work. It was several hours work wandering about in the dead of night with a flashlight, but well worth it. The next morning another anonymous phone call to the police. They show up and discover this guy has a garbage bag full of rabbit pellets in his trunk. hahhahaha. So now he's in the local mental ward under observation. I figured he'd be out soon enough, but now I hear he's exhibiting violent behavior to the other inmates. oh well...

The next day, there's a new guy there. I nailed this guy in 1 day! I'm getting better!! I get in my car that afternoon (no more waiting till night), and drive about 10 miles into the middle of nowhere. Then I get out of my car, walk into the bush, and take a whiz (more 'American' for 'relieving myself') Making sure he gets all the pictures he wants. Get back home and another anonymous call to the police of a pervert. They show up and take him and his camera away. He hasn't been back.

I now hear that I don't have to have that meeting with them, and my passport will be sent back real soon now. ha. I won. They won't even admit defeat. weenies. nyah nyah...

So the other day, being totally drained from energetic conversations at work concerning the weather, and how brown the grass looks, I decided to find more mellow boring conversation somewhere where I could relax. So I ended up in a pub in Ipswitch, on the east coast of England discussing space-station design, fast-breeder reactors, super-conductivity, and all the other boring things that the under-educated discuss. Now let me tell you about my friend Phil. Phil is a friend of mine who is the sys-admin for one of the institutes beside us. He's a real nice guy, and has grey hair which makes it hard to guess his age. He might be 40. He might be 55. About my build, about 4 inches shorter. Maybe you'd think his hobby is cricket, or stamp collecting. You'd be wrong. Because in this pub I discovered that my buddy Phil is the most incredible amazingly amazing heavy-metal rock-n-roll drummer I've ever seen!!

His band was incredible. I can't remember if I've ever seen so much energy and great classic rock music from a band. The guitarist was around 25 and was incredible. He's the kind of guy that teenage girls go wild about. The bass player was good and always had this demented expression like he was wondering 'hmmm- did I leave the gas on at home'. Phil would make Neil Peart look like a wimp with both hands tied behind his back. hmmm - I guess even I could play better than Peart if he had both hands tied behind his back. But anyway, Phil was amazing wailing away! It was a most excellent evening and people kept buying me drinks since I'm such a famous dangerous dude. I never realized how blitzed I was until I left the wall I was leaning against.

Well, thats enough for this diary entry.
Still digging a big hole...