Warning: session_start(): open(/var/php_sessions/sess_e50d3947c0acd3f5ce21619a5ad3a585, O_RDWR) failed: No such file or directory (2) in /hermes/bosnaweb19a/b1035/ipw.myroboti/public_html/restore/wordpress/wp-content/plugins/wordpress-automatic-upgrade/wordpress-automatic-upgrade.php on line 121 Warning: session_start(): Cannot send session cache limiter - headers already sent (output started at /hermes/bosnaweb19a/b1035/ipw.myroboti/public_html/restore/wordpress/wp-content/plugins/wordpress-automatic-upgrade/wordpress-automatic-upgrade.php:121) in /hermes/bosnaweb19a/b1035/ipw.myroboti/public_html/restore/wordpress/wp-content/plugins/wordpress-automatic-upgrade/wordpress-automatic-upgrade.php on line 121 Strict Standards: Redefining already defined constructor for class ftp_base in /hermes/bosnaweb19a/b1035/ipw.myroboti/public_html/restore/wordpress/wp-content/plugins/wordpress-automatic-upgrade/lib/ftp_class.php on line 56 Strict Standards: Redefining already defined constructor for class ftp in /hermes/bosnaweb19a/b1035/ipw.myroboti/public_html/restore/wordpress/wp-content/plugins/wordpress-automatic-upgrade/lib/ftp_class_sockets.php on line 8 My Robot Is Pregnant » Part One

My Robot Is Pregnant theme song!

tough guy poetry and manly stories of loneliness
all contents copyright Jon Rolston 2004, 2005, 2006

July 18, 2006

Part One

Grass Valley, Vermont 1989

Kenny Haskins graduated high school. No one thought he’d make it, and he was the only 20 year old on the stage; it was a happy day at Portsmouth High School. The principal, especially troubled at the thought of a student of legal drinking age in class with a population willing to pay anything for booze, gave up a silent prayer of thanks he was able to convince Mrs. Mace/ 5th period Algebra to give Kenny a C – for effort so he could matriculate.

“I’m not stupid, I have six years of higher education to prove it,” he told many arresting officers.

Ken was built like a farm boy in a town that had let its fields turn to forests two generations earlier. He had a fighter’s instinct for survival, so he was on his own after just a few years living with his alcoholic father and stepmother…

“Kenny, you asshole, why’d you leave the refrigerator door open?”
“Shut it then, don’t yell at me.”
“You aren’t allowed to go in the refrigerator for a month! Just stay out of it to you learn how to shut the door!”
“I did shut it, the drawer is broken, so it won’t…”
“I can get it to shut, so just stay out of it till I tell you you can go back in it.”

So he was banned from the refrigerator. For a month. She had her husband put a hasp on it and Kenny got the picture. He took a handfull of his stepmother’s gold colored jewely and ran away from home. He was 13.

Los Angeles, California 2005

Anyone can get a gun on Sixth street, if they have 13 dollars or so. Anyone can get thirteen dollars or so on Sixth street if they have a gun. If you don’t have money or guns, God gave everyone a mouth, and a mouth is a real money maker down on Sixth street.

Kenny Haskins never had a gun, but Jim Pilgrim had fought in Nam. Signed on for a second tour even, he liked shooting so much. He kept a little .22 with him.

Kenny Haskins was a can man now. More important he was a dreamer. He knew ways to get rich but he didn’t have a gun. He had a shopping cart and a route and made $100 a week. Most important, he had a way with words. Knowing a thing or two about a thing or two had gotten him across country and through life. He read newspapers and watched history shows on tv. (standing around Sears at electronics displays)

Kenny and Jim Pilgrim were walking a new route, looking for cans, pushing their carts, and Kenny explaining the details of the new plan:

“China’s not a sleeping giant anymore buddy, China’s a hungry dragon and she’s after aluminum. They’re making luminum houses, buses, computers, all kinds of shit. Everything’s luminum. They used to make things and send it here, but now a billion chinks are looking for their own toasters, their own bicycles. I think it’s kind of un-American to send it to them. They’re gonna start making bombs and bullets soon and when our luminum runs out, they’re not gonna send us any… we’ll be fucked for sure.”

“We could just use plastic bottles then, Kenny…”

“They ain’t a bunch of fuckin’ rice farmers sucking off water buffaloes no more, brother. They got a economy now, they got inferstructure. They got a middle class and that means people want AC units. China’s hot as a muther fucker in the summer. You know as well as I do without no one telling you an AC unit has a lot of precious metal, talkin’ copper as well as ‘luminum.”

“AC units are a lot of work tearing apart though. I like cans.”

“They’re gonna put ten million cars on the road in the next few years. Aluminum is on a upward trend, far as pricewise. Thing why we gotta do this job and do it right now…is aluminum is gonna keep gettin more expensive. We’ll be the first to knock over a place. They ain’t expecting now. But this time next year everything is gonna be locked down. Security guards, police at the pay scales lookin’ for hot metal.”

“If they ain’t expectin’ it, why do I need a gun?”

“I don’t want you shootin’ no one, understand? It is a diversionary tactic. It’s another upperhand, see? So there’s no trouble. You want trouble?”

“No, I don’t like jail house baloney sandwiches.”

“Course not. After we heist these aluminum kegs it’s gonna be porno movies and pizza, and a pile of crack big as my fist!”

“We’ll get a room at the Belvedere…I can’t wait Kenny. I want pepperoni pizza. A whole pie that’s still hot, all to myself.”

“Forty bucks for a keg, at least. I bet we haul ten of them out of there. Four hundred bucks! Easy!”

more to come in the great keg heist…

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