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I just have to share this STICKMASTER's story.

My friend has a thing for black women. He was married to a Jamaican girl for a long time, then they divorced. He went o/l & advertised himself on one of those dating services. In his pic, he was wearing his STICK garb - a daishiki, with his unruly hair sticking out & looking goofy. He mentioned that he was an unemployed "hillbilly looking for love."

He got a response from a lady from Ghana, who lived with her sister about 45 minutes away. They met, dated once or twice, & the next thing I know, she bought him a new car, all in the course of about 3 weeks. Now she's pretty much moved in with him, but their relationship is not exactly a perfect one.

You see, he has a bit of a substance abuse problem.

Well, last night, she caught him stealing one of her Percocets, & went off on him. He grabbed the phone, evidently from the floor, & called Dddonnie.

"Help, dude! She's got me down & I can't get up. Call the police! Help...you GOTTA help me man!"

That was the message on the answering machine. Dddonnie got home just after the call, but hadn't checked the messages yet, when the guy came stumbling in all dishevelled & scratched up. Now this STICK guy is 6 ft 5 or 6, & weighs in easily at 260 lbs, but the story he gave was that she went off on him, & he was heading out the door. She, however, had other ideas, & decided he was going nowhere. She threw him down, twisted his bad shoulder in one hand while pulling back on his hair with the other, with her knee in his back. He claims he was helpless, but could somehow call Dddonnie from that position.

Dddonnie laughed & told him that, while his own # has 7 digits, 911 only has 3, & wouldn't it be easier just to dial that one?

He claimed that he only wanted to scare her off of him, & the last thing he needs is for the cops to go to his house.

We're getting him a t-shirt that says "I SURVIVED THE GHANA GRIP!"

Unfortunately, I cannot make the STICKMASTERS meeting tonight, cuz my son's babysitter's kids all have pinkeye, so I hafta watch him today, until Ian gets home around 11 PM. Boy, I'd love to be there to roast his big ol' candy ass, though.

So I figured I'd tell about it in here. Hope you enjoyed this tale from the on-going soap opera here in Back Creek. I'll be laughing about this one for a good long time, myself.

sounds like he needs to get a grip on some "Ganja" and leave the percs alone!

Last spring at STICKS I saw this guy gulp down an incredible amount of beer, pop some pills & smoke a buncha weed. Then he went outside to cool his head. We all watched through the window as he stood & swayed for about a minute, then fell like a tree.

We ran out to see if he was hurt. He was okay, but there was this huge depression in the shape of his head in the soft ground. We put a little fence around it with a plaque that stated "Here fell the head of " with his name on it. It stayed there for a cpl months.

Personally, I think he's a maroon, but he's fun to be around, for some reason, even if he's sober. Good-hearted fellow, but damn, he can't be around anything for the head without going overboard in a big way.