"Now it's all over, Danny Bailey,
And the harvest is in.
Dillinger's dead,
I guess the cops won again."
- Elton John, The Ballad of Danny Bailey (1909-1934)
It's February and - as any Discordian knows - that means it's time for the universe to shit all over us. The board is constantly fighting, the country is locked in a horrible broth of slush and grime, and Pedro, the poster formerly known here as "Ghost in the Machine" is dead.
Pedro was one fucked up little monkey, as those who were here in 2005 might remember. He was like a spider monkey on crank, and he never could slow down. He spent a couple of years in prison, as a matter of fact...because he cut some redneck's ear off in the Full Moon Bar in Batavia, Illinois, which led to me spending evening in the back of a squad car, and him leaving the board on account of doing hard time.
As I understand it, he was even more fucked up when he was finally released (having done extra time for fighting in the joint), and he eventually got himself in over his head doing business the American way. I've only just received word about it, but it seems that his competitors disagreed with his business plan - or possibly his partners - and they expressed their feelings via multiple 9MM rounds spread more or less evenly across his person.
It's not like this was unexpected. Pedro was a stone yo-yo with a chip on his shoulder 3 feet across, and he spent his entire life looking for someone to kill him. He has, this time, succeeded (There were rumors a year or so that he was dead, but he never paid them any mind. This time, though, the rumors have been confirmed.).
I'm a little more upset than I figured I'd be, now that this finally happened. Pedro was a pretty funny guy, when he wasn't going batshit with that Goddamn knife, and I do miss him. I also miss what he was...A half-pint tornado that took no shit from anyone. His type is thin on the ground, these days, and we are worse off for the lack. In another day, Pedro would have been storming the beaches at Normandy, giggling like a loon the whole time. He wasn't made for the United States, he was made for America, and Hank Williams Sr would have recognized him, and called him brother.
So I'm going to get off of work today, and drive back across town to the quiet little suburb with its quiet little people leading their quiet little lives, and I'm going to knock back a shot of bourbon, and think about a time when giants walked the Earth.
Or Kill Me.
Damn. That guy was fucked-up and scary, but he didn't deserve to die. Condolensces, Roger.
February has begun, indeed.
Sonnuvabitch. GiTMo was probably the roughest member on me when I started here, and we started to get along just when he went into the big house. Never got a chance to converse with him after that. Dammit.
Fuck February, and it's only just begun.
Sounds like he lived at full speed. In the end that matters.
I always missed that cat.
I'm sorry to hear about his untimely demise, but I'm glad to hear that, apparently, he went out on something resembling his own terms.
Quote from: Rip City Hustle on February 01, 2011, 05:34:17 PM
I always missed that cat.
I'm sorry to hear about his untimely demise, but I'm glad to hear that, apparently, he went out on something resembling his own terms.
He would have been pissed to die in bed.
Damn...
I remember him, not very well, but he was as the others said a tough motherfucker.
Bet he flipped them the bird as they fired the first shot.
RIP Gitmo.
Just when America needed someone used to working up to his neck in sewage and filth as well...
Sorry to hear about your friend, Rog. He sounded like quite the character, with a lot of independent spirit.