Hello followers I, GS, Lord Snob, am sorry for not visiting you all. I've been busy with work and loan apps and thinking of ways to break into the car that belongs to a man who had a heart attack. What? My stuff is in the trunk and the old geezer has forgotten everything before the heart attack including my stuff so now I must get them back at any cost. Talk to him? Nah, I'm not socially graceful in this sort of situation i.e. demanding to get my stuff back from a person whom which others sympathize.

 Oh, I'll be getting my dreadlocks this coming Saturday. I'm in what is supposedly known as the ugly period, and so far, it's true. My hair is everywhere. This Virginia summer does not make the situation better by any means. The muggy, barely tolerable humidity is climbing to it's apex in August. Wipe down -with a cold towel. I have been getting helpful tips for my transformation from a fellow dread head, a lovely thick dread head whom is twice my age (40 something), age aint nothing but a number.

 Anyway, she has invited me to go with her to an YTB meeting. Yes, the same YTB from those commercials on at five in the morning. Yes, I'm going. No, not for the reason you're thinking. Tsk, tsk. 

Before I go, I want to share with you all a piece of my latest writing, which currently still in development. I need honest constructive feedback. Ok? Thank you. Without further ado:

Welcome to Little Gotham

By B. T. Thomas

 

Welcome to RiverCity, Virginia, also know as -among the crowd in the know- Little NYC. Little Gotham.

This summer was wrong. I’m not speaking strictly of the heat, which is worth a mention, no. There were many things wrong this summer. I wouldn’t know until later how really wrong this summer and city could be. It started with a summer job a had gotten because of my earlier fame (that’s a story for another time). During the day I’m suppose to protect this sleepy city -my love- with only my stainless steel pocketknife and company supplied radio. I am one of a handful, and the youngest, of City Observers (that’s official title –nice, huh?) that walk the city taking note of potholes, damaged or blown out lights, stuff that’s wrong with the city, blah, blah, blah. As you can tell, the excitement is too much for me so in these moments I clam down and use my idled brain to find other uses for my pocketknife.

 

What is7 inches long, silver, with a 3-inch blade? My beautiful new pocketknife! Why do I have a knife? For protection, silly. Therefore, I can brutally wound any attacker, robbers in particular. There have been strings of robberies lately all across town including the parts I work. My job is me walking about the business section and other parts of the city. In my territory, a diner was robbed weeks ago on my watch while I was a few streets away. While homicide has dropped significantly, robbery is quickly becoming the rising star crime in the city. Moreover, I and the other ambassadors are vigilate and aware and prepared. How am I to protect my wonderfully city with a 3 inch blade? Surely, the more I carry the knife the more my latent homicidal tendency has crept to the surface. The more feel like a vigilante prowling my city for criminals in the act. How would I react? Who knows? Here in this city, my knife and I are of few true heroes still left in this forgotten city in the muggy south. Here where homicide was once our claim to fame, where the True Blue are dripped in crimson red for a little extra green, where politicians are neighbors that will not let you borrow a cup of sugar without signing a binding contact negating them of liability for hyperness and/or lack of flavor. This is New Gotham or Lil’ Gotham to some.

 

Where once homicide was the crime-de-jour now there is larceny to take its place. Take today there was a robbery at this popular diner in my territory.    

 

>for later>>I was famous once, only locally. My 15 minutes came from my last job, well, while on the job. I was walking, talking, dancing billboard for a tax service. The day I gained my fame was the day I wished never came. This particular day was cold

 

 

 

 

 

Very nice, is this the beginning stages of a story? Look forward to reading more. Dreds...hmmm...can't picture you with dreds so you'll have to put a pic up when it's done. As for the car situation...have you thought about calling the police that way you won't have to break in, they'll do it...lol...or maybe someone else in his family...or maybe your boss.