Transmissions from Mars: pissed

So I skipped a few days of the Blog.

To put things in perspective The Lucky Dog was Saturday. The Hoedown in the war room was Monday.

I'm writing this on Saturday at 9:44. 7 days after the show and my free comic day Debacle 12 days after the Vampier attacks.

Mz. Matrix's plan rested someplace in between suicidal and absolutely idiotic. The type of plan that's brilliant if it actually works and if doesn't work,well, we're not really going to be around complain about it.

On average My life is pretty dangerous. But leaving myself open to whoever is organizing these flawed but very calculated attacks had me on edge. I couldn't eat I couldn't sleep and obviously I couldn't write.

I'm not saying I had a better plan then "act like nothing was wrong until we get attacked again And then try to follow the fuse to whoever drop the dynamite" But I wasn't too proud to not say this plan sucked.

Tuesday not much happened.

Wednesday was trick-or-treat radio we interviewed Evil from the independents and Val From Black Cat Attack. other then an early-morning exorcism not much else went down.

Thursday "Send more cops" Zombies at the grocery store. No attacks.

Friday watched Netflix all day no attacks.

Saturday, today, nothing at all no attacks very boring.

What the holy hell was going on?

Did they give up? were we just gunnipigs in some mad scientist test run?

Matrix called a war room meeting for tomorrow afternoon.

this could be the long game. Lull us into a false sense of security and then BAM!

whether on purpose or by accident whoever had orchestrated attacks was punishing us in the worst way possible.

Q: "why would the Twilight Society be bad Doctors?"

A: "no patients"

The waiting was killing us.

The looking over our shoulder

the speculating.

The unanswered questions.

The Coiled violence.

It was all grinding us down.

Let me put it this way.

Your in the dark.

You stand there for an hr

Some one hits you with a bat

It hurts.

A few hrs later they do it again

Then a few mins later they do it again.

The next day once the day after twice.

Then it skips a day but then three days in a row 4 5 times a day your attacked in the dark by a bat wilding nut.

Then the next day nothing.

Then the day after that nothing

Then the next day nothing.

Then a week nothing.

You start to feel better physically you start to heel up. Feel strong. But you can't rest. Because you know Bat guy is out there. Some place in the darkness. Waiting. Would he hit you? And if he did would it start all over and be all the time. Or was he satisfied with the danger done knowing that the physical scars heal but the paranoia sticks with you like a STD you picked up in a Singapore whore house. If the lights don't go on. If the Bat-guy is never confronted. It will stick with you forever and ever. Living paranoid is ugly.

That's how I feel.

Now, I realize the Goth doomy metaphor is a bit heavy handed.

But it's how I feel.

In my job I'm always in danger I'm always looking over my shoulder. It's like any hunter that walks into the jungle I'm also the hunted. It's the natural order of things.

But this was different. This was wrong.

But this was lions coming to our house. Gorillas ambushing us at dinner.

Was this over? Is someone out there modifying their game. Fixing the mistakes they made last time. Refining their strategy. It's what I'd do. Would the werewolf have a shotgun next time?

Long story short this Sucks balls.

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