The SAFEWAY...

"My Pac-man maze"...

We lived across the street from this grocery store, Safeway, in the city of Pacoima. Whenever my dad, mom, or older brother wanted to go I was always ready and willing to go every time. Only because they had one of my favorite games over there titled: Berzerk. And,my older brother had this quarter with a hole drilled in it with a string attached to it so we could play countless games whenever we wanted to and keep that same quarter, providing we wouldn't get caught, you know. :)

During my exciting battle against these evil robots, my brother pulls me aside to tell me something. He wants me to help him with something. What?? I ask what could be more important right now than destroying these robots? He insists that I just follow him. With little debate I eventually follow. "What's so important?" I ask. He tells me to put a small canister of Binaca (mouth freshener) spray into my pocket. "What?? You want me to steal something? Why? Why should I?" I ask. "I will let you keep that quarter with the string" argues my brother. Hmmmm, I thought... Sounded fair to me! So, as easy as he said it, I put the mouth freshener spray into my pocket.

He had me follow him down an aisle in the store. He had with him a pack of Marlboro Red cigarettes. He looked with a quick left and right then tried to stuff the pack into his pocket. He struggled a little too long with it as I watched him do it and as did our father while turning into the aisle where we were at. When our father approached us, I could almost swear my brother was as white as a ghost. "What's that in your pocket!?" with a stern voice asks our father. "Uhh... It's my Pac-Man maze!" said my brother with utter dismay. "What! Don't lie to me!" said our father. "It's my Pac-Man maze. It is!" said my worried brother. "Show me! Take whatever you have out of your pocket, now!" insisted our father. At this point I was already worried I was next. So, I quickly pulled out the Binaca I had and confessed on the spot. My dad was quite surprised I had stolen something, too. But, he had his eye on my brother. We were both BUSTED!! He told us he was going to have a talk with us when we get back home. Being 8 years old myself and my brother being about 11, we knew what that meant. The "CINTO"!! Which was a good ole butt-whooping with a thick leather belt.

We got home and got what we expected except for me. I was puzzled as to why I didn't get the "cinto" but, our father explained that my older was responsible for my actions that day. And, that he should be setting good examples for me, etc. I believe my brother learned more than I did that day. For me, it was just...

The Safeway...

United We Stand, Divided We Fall...

Let us be grateful for the freedoms we do have and for all that America has to offer us. At times, I may not agree with the politicians, leaders, and/or their true motives behind world affairs, but as a nation let us not forget that we must maintain a unity between us, we the people.

For, it is a nation divided that shall collapse. Too much disdain will only breed strife, animosity, and confusion. Now, don't get me wrong. I do not mean to shut your opinions, beliefs, and/or influence, but rather encourage you to understand that in order to remain a strong nation we "must" show it.

This means "war/battle/fight" whenever necessary. I do not mean we should go around the world and bully everyone, but we must keep our perspective for a strong military. Kinda like a man in jail must "prove" his own strength along with having a strong group having his back. It's the way of the world, like it or not, it just is. If you show weakness, someone in the world will punk you or bully you. And, take away your possessions of value.

I believe at times we might cross the line a bit, but I would rather be on the side of strength than on the side of weakness. Let us teach our next generation to be a proud and strong nation, but never a nation of ignorance.

Semper fidelis...

-ErieOne-Strong.Tough.Proud.

May 1st 2011...

About 2 mins. into the video... The beginning is just description of the horrible day we refer to as Sept. 11th... Obama claims Al-Quaeda "openly" declared "war" on the United States. This is NOT true! If any of you can recollect the reports from Al-Quaeda or the Taliban within September of 2001, they both "openly" DENIED responsibilty of the attacks on the twin-towers, yet praised those responsible for the act.

Don't forget our (American) involvement in the Russian/Afganistan War through 1989. We supported the Mujahideen, whom Osama Bin Laden was affiliated with. We gave "aid" to Osama's group. Yes, we did!!

Don't forget about the Kosovo Liberation Army, which we declared as "terrorist" in 1998. And, whom we (America) sought to form a relationship with in 2000 for political reasons.

We, America, are no better than a "terrorist" group! Yes, I said it!! We are a super-power and we exude that power to our own benefit!! Do I appreciate my country? Hell yes!! Do I question our motives in our world affairs? You better believe it!! Are we, Americans, the saviors of the Earth? I am not too sure about that...

- ErieOne-SharingThePolitics...

How Pac-Man influenced a life of thievery...

THE GREEN LIGHT SPECIAL:

I was a 7 year old kid, the year was 1982. A song hit the airwaves and two kids, along with many others, were addicted to a game called Pac-Man. The song may have only encouraged the addiction, but more importantly the album had a cheat maze. I don't like to think of it as cheating though, I would rather consider it a way of learning how to be better at it, although some will disagree with a fair argument. Either way, my brother and I wanted it.

One day our mother took us both on a trip to the store, K-Mart. We must have been shopping for something we desperately needed because we couldn't afford to go shopping for our own hearts' desires. It may have been for pants we needed so badly because we had too many iron-on patches on them already, or maybe it was for socks that were falling apart because we had sewn them so many times they became quilt-looking patches themselves. What ever the reason was we were happy to be there.

My brother and I asked our mother if we could go over to the record section. My brother was a record collector since the age of 8. He was 10 years old that day. He looked feverishly for the "Pac-Man Fever" album and found it. He wanted the maze so badly he opened up the album right there on the spot to see it. Ahhh! As if it was the holy grail for us pac-man addicts. So valuable, it must be obtained. We couldn't leave the store without it! Unfortunately for us we had no money. We needed it by all means necessary.

I was drafted as the look-out. Check! In a slick easy manner my brother slid the already folded maze into his back pocket. Was it this simple, I thought? My brother just stole something, but it felt so right! Muahaha!

We, soon after, met up with our mother and we were anxious to leave. I think I saw a little sweat trikle down my brother's forehead as we walked out the store and it wasn't even hot. But it worked. We got away with a crime. When we got home I was told to never, ever mention what we did that day...

I think today supersedes the stature of limitations to our original agreement...

- Yours turly,
The Pac-Town Kids

CONTROL: A Los Angeles Graffiti Story...

UPDATE: (This is only the short beginning of a very long story. More excerpts to follow.)

  Near the end of the school year, 5th grade, a new student named Eric Samos had arrived at Sandbar Elementary in sunny Southern California. He was a very quiet kid who kept to himself. The first two days, while on the playground, he would watch a group of kids play a game of basketball. By the third day, a boy named Tony Diaz invited him to play with them.
  
   As the boys played a competitive game of basketball a boy by the name of Carl Williams, a rough and tough playing kid, played defense and elbowed Eric right in the mouth as Eric went for a shot. -BAM!- Eric knew Carl intended to do that.

   "You did that on purpose!" Eric said while he held his mouth as it dripped with blood. "Hey, you ran into my elbow," Carl joked with a shrewd smirk on his face. Eric walked over to Carl, with a quick straight punch to the face, he dropped Carl down to the ground. Eric continued punching as Carl attempted to cover up.

   The school staff noticed the fight and ran over to break it up. Before they did, Eric stopped and looked over to the big kid, Tony Diaz, a kid everyone knew not to mess with. Tony shook his head in approval, as if Eric had done the right thing.

   From that day on, Tony and Eric became good friends.

   Years went by...

   Tony and Eric were now 16 years old. In the year of 1990 during summer around 1am on a dark Saturday morning.  The sky was clear, the streets were quiet, and the vandals were lurking. Eric and Tony were on the prowl.

   The two young men walked uphill onto a freeway shoulder. They open up a backpack and pulled out a thick heavy-duty rope with a small weight tied to one end. Eric managed to climb his way up a freeway sign and walked across the back side of it. -WHOOSH!!- An 18 wheeler truck passed by underneath and shook the sign, including Eric's nerves, almost causing him to slip. "Shit!"  Eric said with astonishment, knowing if he were to slip it would have been a very disastrous (or rather deadly) thing to have happened. "Ok. I got this man!" Eric spoke to himself as though he needed some reassurance that he wouldn't fall pass the 4 inch widely spaced cross-bars. Tony shouted, "Hey, everything alright?"  Eric responded, "Yeah man!  I'm cool." Eric spray painted the names "RISK" and "TANK" in black, bold, outlined letters.

   As Eric climbed down the freeway sign, a light shined brightly at them from a vehicle passing by on the freeway. "Fuck! It's the cops!" shouted Tony. Eric quickly pulled down the rope and stuffed it in the backpack as the California Highway Patrol pulled up past them with siren and lights flashing. "Go! Go! Go!" in a frantic panic shouted Eric. Tony ran ahead down a nearby street. Eric following behind tripped, knocking a spray can out of the backpack. "Freeze!" shouted a CHP officer. Eric paid no attention to the warning and put the spray can back in the backpack. "Don't move!" shouted the officer. Eric defiantly ran toward a truck Tony had gotten into and began starting up. The officer gave chase.

   Eric tossed the backpack into the back of the open-bed truck as Tony began driving slowly away.  Eric grabbed the tail-gate but it flew open as though it was already broken. Eric dove in while Tony slammed on the brakes causing Eric to slide along the truck bed and hit his head. -THUMP!!- "Awe shit!" Eric said in pain while he felt his head to see if it was bleeding. No blood, just a big lump that started to form.

   "Stop! Or I'll shoot!" yelled the officer with a gun drawn. While lying on his back, Eric extended his middle finger to the CHP officer. The officer was furious and frustrated as he put down his gun and radioed his partner.

   After speeding a safe distance away from the law enforcement, Tony stopped the truck and let Eric in to the front passenger seat. "Remember the plan," said Eric. "Yeah, I got it," said Tony. They both had devised a brilliant get-away plan before they went out to commit the act of vandalism. It worked!  They managed to escape the clutches of the great California Highway Patrol.

(THIS IS AN EXCLUSIVE EXCERPT FROM A STORY WRITTEN BY: ERIE ONE)

- Psyfer Ent. ®
  2011 ©

TRUE LIFE STORIES OF ERIE ONE:

APARTMENT LIFE:

   Part One...

Two weeks ago from today during a weekday, sometime after midnight, I was awake eating a midnight snack in the kitchen--Yeah, I know! I shouldn't be eating this late.

 "Knock, knock, knock!" Who in the hell would be knocking at my door at this time of the night? Girl Scouts selling cookies? I think not! Jehovah's Witnesses offering me a copy of the Watchtower? I don't think so! Well, lets see?

   I grab my fork in hand, tightly clinched, ready to use it as a weapon if I have to. So, I walk over to the door and look out the peep hole. I notice a man with a hooded sweater on, looking away from the door. Hmmmm, very interesting, I thought.

   I am glad to have a window not far from the door--So, that I could see from head to toe who is standing at the door. I open up the Levolor vertical blinds and look out as much as they can see me, too. It's three black men, all wearing hooded sweaters with their hands in their pockets. I spoke with a stern voice and a disturbed look on my face. "What's up?" As I shake my head upwards.

   All three men look at each other, one shakes his head and they all walk away. I wasn't planning on opening the door, anyways! Damn those midnight marauders! I haven't used my shotgun in awhile--But, it's always ready to go if need be.

   Part Two...

Last night, sometime after midnight, I was reading a book. I heard some shouting/yelling--I didn't think much of it because I do have some loud-ass neighbors who stay up past 2am on a weekday night smoking, toking, coughing, yapping, and just plain ole bullshitting late at night.

   But, this was different! It's a woman's voice and she began shouting for help! She screamed, "HELP!! HELP!! SOMEBODY HELP, ME!!" Wow! That was disturbing! I quickly shut off the lights and look out my bedroom window. "Shit!" I don't see anything! It must be coming from the parking lot since I can not see it from this window.

   I walk over to turn on my light. "Awe, crap!" Where's the switch?! My light switch is not where it should be, at the edge of the wall, rather, it's almost toward the center of the wall and now i'm blinded by the darkness. I frantically search for the switch. "Ah-ha!" I found it!

   I grab my switchblade (yes, a real sharp son-of-a-bitch of a switchblade) from my drawer. I run over to the living room and peek out the window. By this time, I hear no more shouts or yells. Nothing! What the fuck?! Dammit! What happened? Where did she go? If I had called the sheriffs, what could I possibly tell them? I heard some screams for help. But, I have no idea where they actually came from.

   For several minutes I keep a vigilant watch for any suspicious activity. And, nothing! I thought I was gonna bust a Bruce Willis or something of that nature. But, no! Didn't happen... I think we need a neighbor watch program over here...

Til next time cabrones!...

-ErieOneTheVigilante

Fedor Vs. Pride?

Was Fedor's own pride too exuberant for his own benefit? Could Fedor have proven himself more effectively as a legendary fighter through the ranks of mma in the UFC? Could have Fedor been "thee best" heavyweight in the year 2009?

We may never know the "what ifs". But, in my opinion, it's sad to know Fedor has ended or is ending his fight career on such a dull note. Like watching Superman getting his ass beat by Gargamel (the Smurfs) just because he has some Kryptonite.

Flashback 2009. M-1 Global vs. Dana White. Pride vs. greed? Or was it greed vs. greed? Did Fedor Emelianenko escape the controling clutches of puppet-master Dana White? Fedor has a stake in M-1, so maybe Fedor just wanted to remain a free standing fighter with only M-1 hanging on his shoulders? Whatever it was, Fedor was kept away from fighting the big names such as Brock Lesnar, Shane Carwin, Cain Valasquez, and maybe even Frank Mir. Was it due to his own creation?

Either way, Fedor will be 35 this year and will not be in his "prime". I really believe Fedor has lost his sharp edge. What truely defeated Fedor's grandor legacy? Was he as great of a fighter as many believed him to be?



You decide...

-ErieOne