Above is an old photo of the California Hotel where I believe my mother lured my best friend to his doom. They took the bus here after the Presco Children went to sleep, or, drove here in Rosemary’s Ford Anglia. I believe Bill Arnold was thirteen the first time she got him – between her legs – and in the clutches of her evil soul.

For several hours yesterday I watched The Movies on CNN. Almost everyone of them were applicable to my life story. My friend Casey began to notice my family was an architype. It blew his mind. He called me twice a day. We have long conversations. He became jealous. Victor, Mark, and Victor’s grandson, Cian, were very jealous of me. Our sane and sound family history was almost nil. What was left of it, appeared to be in my possession.

But, I was an oddball, a…