The Honorable Crackitisious Jones Esquire

The Honorable Crackitisious Jones Esquire
One with the world

Tuesday, November 2, 2010

Not Again

Damn you Roman and your penchant for getting Paco and I into the most reckless and foolhardy of adventures. “Let’s go to a graveyard on Halloween, all of the Filipinos do it, what could be more fun than celebrating the lives of the dead on the holiday of the dead.” It’s dialogue right out of a zombie movie and I should have been wiser. What can I say I have a hard time turning down a party especially when the tab is covered by someone else. My affluence for parties nearly got me killed as Paco and I’s worst fears were realized again as the dead decided that laying in a coffin wasn’t as fun as terrorizing the living. Before I get too far into my story I want to point out how terribly cliché’ these zombies were, I mean reanimating on Halloween that’s almost as bad as proposing on Valentine’s Day.

So there we were casually enjoying a roast pig and minted lamb sipping on fine sherry having a conversation on how ridiculous American Eating Contests were. They compete to see who can eat the most while millions die daily from starvation, amazing. It was as Paco and I were doing our best Joey Chestnut and Kobayashi impressions that we noticed the ground under us begin to shake. The other party goers dismissed it as a small earthquake but Paco and I knew otherwise. We felt tremors like this before, years ago in Bolivia. In a flash we started looking for shelter and any weapons we could use. I grabbed a pig leg and broke off the leg of a table and Paco pulled out the 9mm he always carries. “Thank God for the 2nd amendment,” he cried.

As expected our new friends were terrified at our sudden outburst but after firing off a round we got their attention quickly. As the sound of the gunshot subsided we began to hear the first screams as the undead began to overtake the cemetery. This was followed by the crack of more gunshots from the guards patrolling the graveyard. The earth began to shake under us again more violently than before so Paco and I rounded up the people who had not fled in terror and herded them towards a large mausoleum. A few were tripped up by hands grabbing at them from the earth and were quickly pounced on by the growing hoard. My side began to burn and I feared that I had been bitten or clawed but I soon realized that it was a side ache from the large feast running and cracking heads with the pig and table legs.

As soon as we got them safely inside and secured any possible zombies in the tombs we boarded up the doors and began to see what resources were at our disposal. Other than Paco’s 9mm there was little that could do much against the ever growing threat. Knowing that we couldn’t hold out for long we grabbed a phone and made a call to the Protectors of Eternal Death, I know sweet name right one of my better quips I must say, and told them of the outbreak. The Protectors are an elite squad of soldiers that I founded after the Bolivia incident. Headed up by the only survivor of that event other than Paco and me Balthazar Ruengrad, they specialize in zombie warfare, and were our only hope.

We waited for about an hour checking and rechecking our perimeter as the screams of the living slowly diminished into a clear monotonous groan. Knowing it was only a matter of time before they found our hideaway I hugged Roman and Paco goodbye and decided to lead as many of the zombies as I could away from the mausoleum. While I led the zombies away Paco and Roman would make a break for the BVC complex where we were more prepared to deal with this situation. We opened a crack in one of the doors and I slipped through. Moving slowly I crept along the outer perimeter of the mausoleum taking in my surroundings. The zombies were in small clusters huddled around what I only assume were bodies of the former living. At the bottom of the stairs I noticed the bodies of two of the guards one was decapitated and torn to pieces the other was groaning and crawling up the stairs towards me. I took my table leg from earlier and put the zombified guard out of his misery. This gruesome scene turned out to be a blessing as the guards weapons were strewn over their bodies. I grabbed their shotguns and pistols and bolted back up the steps shoving the shotguns into the mausoleum to help out Paco and the others. I kept both of the pistols for my own defense and took off yelling to gain the attention of those foul beasts.

For the next part of this saga I want you to remember the most terrifying moment of your life… Got it? Ok now I want you to remember the most tired you’ve ever been. Now combine those two together and you have the next 2 days of my life. I was in a graveyard near Alabang Metro-Manila when I first started running. I tried to warn everyone that I could while I ran but they just laughed at this crazy white man running. Their laughter was soon replaced by screams and moans. The congested traffic system became several people’s undoing. The jeepneys, tricycles, motorbikes, and other autos acted like a giant labyrinth death trap, and still I ran.

Night soon closed in around me and I began to move from one source of light to another taking sanctuary in being able to see. I had hoped that I could stay ahead of the waves of undead but I came to realized that I was completely surrounded. Buildings and skyscrapers casted imposing shadows and the Technicolor street lamps made me feel like I was in some sort of Circus of Horrors. The groaning of the animated corpses grew in volume to the point where I couldn’t tell where they were coming from. I decided that one direction was as dangerous as any other and started heading west. For the first time all day it seemed my luck had changed as I soon heard the comforting sounds of waves washing ashore. I followed the sound to the beach where a small group of people were busy loading a boat in an attempt to flee.

I approached the group slowly hands above my head in a sign of surrender should they be worried about whether or not I was among the living. I promised them that I meant no harm and asked if I could join their escape. Immediately arguments broke out among the group if I could be trusted or if I would slow them down. While they were yelling at each other I noticed the sounds of groans growing louder. I turned around to find a mass of zombies marching towards us. Without hesitation I began to fire at the closest attacker yelling at the group to finish packing and get on the boat. Their arguments ceased immediately and they quickly secured the rest of their provisions. When I saw that they were finished I sprinted to the boat as they were pushing away from the dock barely making the jump. We made quick introductions; there were 7 of them, 4 college students, a middle aged woman, a priest, and the owner of the boat. They told me they planned to go to Mendiola, Manila to find safety with the Filipino military. While I would generally avoid large cities during a zombie out break I knew that Paco and Roman were heading the same way so I grabbed a paddle and joined in the escape.

We paddled for through the night and well into the next day. I did not sleep a wink for a fear that one of my new companions might do something stupid. People generally lose common sense during a zombie outbreak and I knew I had to stay awake until I rejoined Paco or the P.E.D. came. Of course trying to force myself awake put me right to sleep and while I enjoyed a few minutes of shut eye the  rest of the group saw a large tanker just off shore with people moving on top. Without consulting me they anchored themselves next to it and climbed aboard. I awoke in a room onboard the tanker to the sound of screams as the infection had found its way to the ship and my new compatriots were the next victims. As I was preparing to enter the corridor I was shaken to the ground by an explosion. I heard the buzzing of the P.E.D.’s raptors bombing a zombie ridden ship. The tanker began to sink and I knew I had precious seconds before I was completely surrounded by the cold dark Pacific. I left my room and began frantically searching for anything to help me out of this predicament. After tearing my way through 3 rooms wasting all but 3 of my remaining rounds and water now at my waste I found what I was looking for, a scuba set. Not wasting any time I suited up and began swimming my way to the surface. Smelling blood in the water sharks gathered around the sinking ship like flies on a carcass. After what seemed like hours, only it was actually about 30 minutes as that was all the air I had, I made it to the surface to see the bow of the boat sink into the ocean.

Thankfully I was only about a half a mile away from shore so I started making the swim. When I reached shore I found myself in Intramuros. Intramuros is the oldest sector in Metro Manila and is only about a mile or two away from the BVC complex. With a new found spirit I started my run again, only to be greeted by even larger hordes of zombies. Manila was nearly overrun. This time though I was much more comfortable with my surroundings and the maze of the city was working to my advantage as I led many undead down dead ends (ha-ha good pun) where I was able to escape via fire escape or by climbing over a wall. My stores of energy were greatly depleted by this time and I felt more like the zombies than one of the living but I gritted my teeth for what I hoped would only be a few moments more of running. At last I had the Pasig River in sight and the bell towers of the BVC complex. I saw evidence of Paco’s handiwork in a dump truck covered in rubble blocked the entrance into the school, and as we had planned a rope dangling from one of the towers. I made the final sprint to the rope yelling for Paco or Roman and as I put my feet and hands on the open loops I was pulled to safety. Apparently Paco and Roman had made it back the night I led the zombies away driving the dump truck through all of the traffic. You can read more about it here http://coreyfriend.blogspot.com/2010/11/halloween-in-philippines.html . I should warn you that Paco likes to write under his alter-ego Corey Friend. I keep telling him that creating a fake persona will only confuse his readers but he does it anyways. Some people right? Anyways I slept for the next 24 hours while the P.E.D. went to work clearing the outbreak. Within days we were clear and life was returning to normal. Paco and I shared a laugh at the chance that the zombies would come back for us a third time. We then quickly knocked on wood realizing that it would most likely happen to us again.

Proud to be among the living…

Wednesday, October 27, 2010

Reunion Tour


BABY BABY BABY OH BAAABY!!!!! AHEM cough cough. Excuse me my lovely patients old Dr. Desire is warming up the old pipes. Seems like it’s been forever since Paco and I’s last show. Oh yes I should probably catch you up before I ramble on too much. You see Paco and I were contributors to one of the most glorious ages of music; 1980’s Hair Metal. It was once our profession to don layers of makeup, skin tight jumpsuits, and shred anthem and ballad on a nightly basis. It all found its beginning in the spring of 1982, and what a year it was the Argentineans invaded the Falkland Islands, a Spanish Priest tried to kill the Pope, my football club Tottenham Hotspur won the FA cup, and Michael Jackson released Thriller.
Paco brushing the dust of his old
Keytar

Paco and I were in our final year in Med School. We entered Med School after the untimely death of our friend Doctor Jules Macalester in Mozambique. Jules was awaiting the return of Paco and me and working in a small village doing charity work for the war torn nation when a band of Apartheid South African backed rebels wiped the village out, including our beloved friend and doctor. Paco and I were dealing with a huge man-eating bull shark in the Zambezi River called “Tuburao Obito.” After dealing with the brute we returned to find our friend taken from us. Rather than replace dear Jules we continued on like Zeppelin after Bonham. However we still needed a capable physician on our expeditions so Paco and I decided why not take a couple of years off and learn the art of our fallen companion.

So there we were, studying to be doctors by day and playing as the folk rock duo the Med Students of Like by night. This pattern repeated itself until 1982 when we took our last exams. And what do you know we passed with flying colors. To celebrate Paco and I took a trip to Monterey Bay where we drank the night away. After rehashing the night we had found out that we took to the stage with four other equally drunk gentlemen and began to rock and a roll like never before. Two things were born that night; Paco got so drunk that he now is unabile to walk on flat damp surfaces, honestly you should see him trying to walk after a light drizzle, it’s like a newborn taking its first step on oil covered ice, and the second birth belongs to the band that contributed the definition of rock and roll to Webster’s Dictionary, The Doctors of Lust.
Our First Album


"Lock n' Loaded and Sticky Fingers
jamming on Give Her Respect
On lead vocals Crackity “Lock n’ Loaded” Jones, on lead guitar Dominic “The Killer Bee” Jacobs, on lead bass Paticio “Nunez” Car, on lead drums Casey “Crash and Tom” Wojtalewicz, on lead keytar Paco “The Rocket Hammer” Picopiedra, and on lead trumpet Joe “Sticky Fingers” Kilkus. Rocking such hits like Love Power Shower and ballads like Give Her Respect we swept through the 80’s like a hair gel through freshly permmed hair, which we all had. Our biggest show was scheduled for the Wembley Stadium parking lot on July 13 1985. Little did we know that the band Queen was playing next door in the actual stadium so our crowd wasn’t as big as we hoped.

The Killer Bee Rocking
on Love Power Shower



We broke up before the destruction of Glam Rock at the hands of Nirvana. We thought that the Pixies or the Replacements would be the one to bring down the beast but it took a song about libido and mosquitoes to permanently stifle it. However we still stay in close contact and recently jammed together. Who knows maybe a reunion tour in on the horizon.

 And when she seems down, give her the respect she needs, dum dum de dum…

Thursday, October 21, 2010

Fan Mail

Now I don't usually get myself involved with politics and the like as I find that the less I do the more I feel I have a soul. However two friends of mine Matt Harren, who has somehow tracked me down in the Philippines, what can I say some fans just go the extra mile, and Alex Kurt have sent me an amusing little letter that they wrote for a TV show called The Daily Show. Well I was so tickled by this little bit of penmanship that I decided to reward the duo by making it today's post. I hope you enjoy.


To Whom It May Concern (but don’t get us wrong, we think we’re your biggest fans, just like every other self-righteous s.o.b.),

We’re writing to apologize, in advance, for the reelection of Congresswoman Michelle Bachmann by the people of our fine state. Having been to Minnesota for the 2008 GOP convention coverage we hope you agree that it’s an okay place, and are similarly befuddled by the capacity of any plurality of our populace to elect this gay rally spying McCarthy like batch of crazy to national office three times running. The answer may be one or all of three of these reasons.
1)      While a majority of the district voted for someone other than Bachmann in 08’, we managed to turn that bit of political capital into a victory for her. It is the electoral equivalent of fielding a MLB team with two AL MVPs, a reigning batting champ, a Cy Young contender, a new stadium, and a regular string of division titles, only to be swept by the wild card in the first round of the playoffs. Ya sure, yoo betcha. Bachman somehow wins the necessary amount of votes by acting like one of the mama grizzlies that the coked-out Palin blabbers on about. (Honestly have you looked at her lately, her eyes are more bloodshot and skin is drawn tighter daily) The idea that mama grizzlies are the new face of political feminism is like saying the Lingerie Football League glorifies woman as athletes. Yet Bachman has stirred up enough dirt that the once clear view Minnesotans had of their state is now as murky as Lake Superior.
2)    The joke that has become the Democratic Party has yet to put up a candidate that seems a better option than the Wicked Witch of the 6th. The Democrats want absolute fealty, if they see even the slightest sign of wavering faith they’ll cannibalize your seat faster than Rush Limbaugh eating… well just about anything. It’s all political pandering being played out by children who want a career and not to better their nation.
3)      Maybe we in the 6th district have gone back to moonshining like the days of Prohibition and are on a perpetual bender, treating election days like Oktoberfest or St. Patty’s Day, entering the voting booth smelling more of booze than pride in democracy. Unlikely.
Even though her reelection will bring more witticisms from your staff, we weep at the fact that she will likely have another term to poison us with her vile, albeit childlike, rhetoric. Either way her reelection is nigh and we just thought it pertinent to prepare you for this event. In closing, keep up the good work.  We certainly aren’t about to shoulder this burden, having both fled the hemisphere.  And don’t look too harshly upon Minnesota…we gave you Bob Dylan, and we can damned sure take him back.

Sincerely,
Matt Harren
St. Cloud, Minnesota
Relocated to Manila, Philippines (seriously)

Alex Kurt
St. Paul, Minnesota
Relocated to Sumbawanga, Tanzania (also seriously)

p.s. As we are recent graduates with hopes of writing professionally, burdened with loans, entering a poor job market, against all odds, two kids from the wrong side of the track… Do you see where we’re going with this? Anyways good luck with the Rally.

(chuckle chuckle chuckle)...