POJOC fundraising on hold...Sir Paul is mad and we won't take his calls...Arizona lady is (allegedly) crazy...it must be Friday!

Happy Friday everybody! We made it through another stinking week.

Here at The Compound we received a decent amount of rain early Thursday morning, though there’s still a burn ban in place. The ban is putting a crimp in the Pathetic Order of the Jackrabbit – Original Chapter’s (P.O.J.O.C.) annual spring rite of roasting jackrabbits over an open fire – hey, it’s a fundraiser (they really aren’t too bad once you get past the ear ticks).

Terry Two-Fingers, who by day is a rattlesnake handler and charmer from Freedom, suggested throwing the jackrabbits into Big Bertha, my mega-smoker, but I’m having none of that. Low and slow cooking is no way to kill rabbit fever.

I guess we’re stuck until we get a lot more rain and the burn ban is lifted. We use the annual Hare Roast to raise money for scholarships and we’re running out of time.

Cousin Fred, our newest membership addition to the lodge, was talking back in January about opening the marina here at Lake Mountebank over Memorial Day weekend to camper overflow from Fort Supply Lake (whose motto taken from the Latin is “That’s no gator floating on the water, it’s a bovine!”). But, again, that fundraising idea fell apart - there hasn’t been enough rainfall this winter and spring to even wet the ground of the dried-up lake here at The Compound.

Sorry kids, no P.O.J.O.C. scholarships this year (we have trouble finding young scholars willing to accept them – no one wants the stigma). Maybe next year. Cousin Fred is also talking about us putting on another music festival here this summer out in the north pasture. Given that the last couple of attempts have been disasters on a par with the Hindenburg debacle (literally), I’m not sure that will or could happen.

Besides, we’re still trying to figure out a way to pay Paul McCartney for the gigantic video screens we rented and then (inadvertently) destroyed during A Clustering of Gigolos Music Festival last summer.

Cousin Fred has stopped taking Sir Paul’s calls. Eh, we’re in the middle of nowhere, he won’t find us.

Speaking of not taking calls (good gawd I’m bad at segues) …did you hear about the woman super-stalker in Arizona?
So this guy meets a woman (that’s her mugshot up above) through a dating site. They go out on one date. ONE STINKING DATE. After which she began calling and texting non-stop. She would send as many as 500 texts a day! That’s just over 20 texts every hour for 24-hours…or one every three minutes. Sometimes while she was parked right outside his house!

I think if I’d been that guy I would have blown up my phone (literally) and moved to Uzbekistan.

65,000 texts total from first date to arrest…that must be some plan she has.

The guy was freaked out, so he installed one of those remote view surveillance systems in his home. He spotted her taking a bath in his house one day and called police. They show up, make her get out of the bath, and threaten to arrest her is she doesn’t knock it off. Oh, they checked her car and found a butcher knife. Tsk, tsk, tsk.

But, still, they let her go.

Soon the texts became more threatening, telling him she wanted to “bathe in his blood.” Yeah, nothing wrong with you honey.

Finally, she showed up at his work, told his co-workers that she was his wife and then proceeded to take a shower at his work. Hmmm, I’m no Sherlock Holmes, but I think we’re beginning to see a pattern here.

The guy calls the cops who finally arrest her. After being taken into custody, she told police that she never intended to harm Mr. Wonderful, she only sent threatening texts because she loved him and didn’t want him to leave her.

Again, hmmm.

In front of the judge, she admitted some of her texts were a little crazy. The judge agreed, and she’s now being held for trial without bond.

Oh, if you would like to join the Pathetic Order of the Jackrabbit – Original Chapter, email me at [email protected]. I’ll rush the membership application to you.

​That is all!

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