James is gone. I admit that I had some mixed feelings about him. I mean, being a god and all, but…he was decent. And, more importantly he was a good friend to B. He had her back and he didn’t deserve to go out the way he did. I don’t know where he’s gone, whether it’s heaven or Valhalla or… forget it. Does it even matter? He’s gone.

B is torn up, of course. She’s not herself, and I’m not sure when we’ll have the old B back. Fallon has gone M.I.A. I mean, he’s hiding in his apartment. He just needs time. We all do. Unfortunately, DragonMade Productions is forcing B to make one more vlog. It’s stipulated in her contract that she owes them a certain number. It doesn’t matter to me what they think they legally deserve. There should be a level of human decency factored into these situations. This isn’t going to happen again. I’ll make sure of it. B’s not signing anything unless I’ve gone through the paperwork with a fine toothed comb. Not that I’m an expert or anything, but I’ve seen enough courtroom drama’s. I’ll spot any tricky language these contracts tend to bury twelve pages in.

I’m going to have to take my leave for now. I need a break. I need to take some time for myself and for my friends. In the course of my short existence, I’ve only lost one person close to me and it was devastating. My dad was my hero. When he died, I couldn’t…I can’t go into it.

Losing James so soon…well, at the end of the day I can call him my friend. I’ve lost my friend and that is all that matters.

Take care of yourselves and support your local bookstores.



WE WON!!!!!!!!!!!!

We survived.
We survived and we won.
I’m so proud of B. She took charge and tried to delegate. She trusted herself and for the first time I saw her as the badass I’ve always known she could be. We met the big bad architect. One over-the-top prego Mallory, harbinger of doom. She escaped, but not before I was able to release the ChupaKraken into her server, effectively pummelling her apocalyptic code to unusable bits. Score one for the home team.
Moloch has been released from the captive bakery franchise. Whether or not that turns out to be a good thing…I guess we’ll soon find out. I still don’t trust that guy. And, the idea of a demon loose in Silver Peaks doesn’t sit well with me.
James showed up late. Conveniently so. I mean, we didn’t need him, but a god would have been useful. It could have helped the plan run a bit more efficiently, but ya know – whatever. I think B needs to have a sit down with either James or Fallon. Things are getting weird and I can only handle so much weird. Unless of course it’s my own weird.
But, we won. We did it. We’re really doing it. We’re making a difference. We’re changing the world. I have to say, it feels amazing.

Off to War

I’m writing this from my phone so you’re just gonna have to deal with abbreviations.
I’m not as sentimental as B. n I might just be stating the obvious 2 u. But, seeing as hw I’ll be, very shortly, committing my very first felony-
No, wait…
Nevermind – yes, it’s my 1st. (My 1st official real actual felony. Let’s just keep it at that, people.)
This may be my last post so I shold say a few goodbyes just in case.
Mom, if you’re reading this just know that I only ever wanted to make u an dad proud. I hope the papers will report me as a hero who foiled a demonic plot and not as a hoodlum.
B, if u make it and I dont, pls dont lock yourself away agin. Ask 4 hlp. Share your gift. And, if Fallon makes it out of this, talk to him for petes sake.
But, also if Fallon makes it out and I don’t – wtf. Just WTF!
Sandy, I’m the one whos been placing Skittles in Mephstphles’ litter box. Sorry. But, aren’t u glad u can stop taking him 2 the vet now?
Cassidy. Dear sweet, awkwardly hot Cassidy. We would have been great. Like Nicholas Sparks with a side of Noah Baumbach great. *sigh*
It today is my last, at least I’m wearing a really great outfit. Make sure I’m buried in it.
See u on the other side, dear readers.

Never Sneak Up on Me!

I went through a Van Damme phase as a small human, and I may or may not be guilty of watching Timecop twenty times in 1994. I plead the fifth on that one. But, listen, people – something was gained from all that. Something that no one can ever take from me. My Van Damme karate style. It’s lethal. It usually only surfaces on bad dates, 40% off sales at Anthropologie or when demons come out of nowhere carrying pans of cupcakes.
I do feel bad about the cupcakes, but NEVER sneak up on a girl! Especially if you’re sporting dual boney appendages from your forehead. Announce yourself first from behind a closed door. Give the people on the other side a moment to collect our thoughts. Just spreading the knowledge, dear readers – small tidbits of advice to tuck into the back pocket of your life’s journey.
I don’t completely trust this Moloch character. He’s a demon, after all. Sure, he seems happier than most. Maybe a little too happy. I find the happiest creatures are hiding the worst secrets. He’s the one that’s been sending B all these cupcakes. And, all for the purpose of getting B to help him with his evil corporation problem. It’s not Monsanto this time, surprisingly. Apparently, this particular evil corporation is building a demonic army in order to kickstart an apocalypse. Yes, I did just write that sentence.
I can’t believe I agreed to breaking and entering. This is probably not what my dad was hoping for when I promised him I’d make smarter choices. I swear it’s all with good save-the-world intentions!

Cases Are Piling Up People!

Imagine an asteroid hitting the earth and wiping out the majority of mankind. Fast forward thirty years later. Nature has reclaimed the planet. Random tribes of cannibal survivors roam the earth searching for victims they can rotisserie into their dystopian diets.
Meanwhile in a crumbling yet charming one bedroom second floor apartment on the east side of Silver Peaks, Beatrix Beckett emerges from her bedroom clutching various weathered photographs of gluten free cupcakes. She screams towards the ashen sky above, “Fallon! Zola! I know who’s sending them!”
But, no one answers because we’ve been dead for thirty years waiting for her to emerge from her bedroom bomb shelter.
Rewind it on back to present day and Fallon’s trying to distract himself by eating his way through all of B’s cereal. Unfortunately, a mouthful of Peanut Butter Puffins is not going to help things. So, I guess it’s up to me. The latest case folder is filled with a dozen or so interesting requests ranging from a possessed TIVO to a haunted Yelp account. B needs to see these! I mean, sure these people could be crazy, but there might be something-
Well. James just showed up…  I’ll just set this to auto publish and come back to my thoughts later….

Cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs

There’s a ton of work to do. Not only have I been tasked with marketing for Books and Brew’s Annual Read-A-Thon (an event where teens and lonely adults read as many books and drink as much coffee as they possibly can for 24 hours), but there’s probably thirty cases that have come in for B to look at. Unfortunately, she’s locked herself in her bedroom intent on deciphering the Great Cupcake Caper of 2015, or whatever. Fallon and I have tried to coax her out of the hiding hole, but she’s riding this wave of mania through to the end. On one hand I’m kind of inspired by her dedication and follow-through. On the other hand, the girl needs to schedule a day with her therapist and just talk that mess out.
I thought the training session with Susan Slaughter would really change things up a bit and make us more of a cohesive team. I have some ideas of about where we can go with this and I really want to talk to B about a possible business venture. When I say this stuff out loud it freaks me out. What have I become? An adult? *shudders* Writing it out makes it seem less terrifying. Thank you random invisible audience, for lending me your ears…or eyes.
I made Fallon a sandwich and he disappears before it’s ready. That’s possibly the strangest thing to happen in a while. Stranger even than B’s sudden mental collapse. I’m an island of sane in a sea of cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs. What about you, dear reader? Can you offer some advice on how to get B back into the game?

We’re Official or Whatever

And, just like that we’ve become trained ghost hunters. I mean, we don’t have certificates or anything, but –  Wait, were we supposed to get certificates? I forgot to ask. My parents always wanted me to have something official to frame.
The Silver Shadows ghost hunting club got us in touch with Susan Slaughter, world-renowned ghost huntress! Our first outing was at the most haunted location in Orange Country, the Dr. Willella Howe-Waffle House. She was the first female physician to ever practice in California. Apparently, her ghost still wanders the halls of her home and has been spotted numerous times at the top of the stairs. Could we get a better locale? I think NOT!

Super Cool Equipmenty Stuff
Super Cool Equipmenty Stuff
I was feeling pretty confident about this one, regardless of Fallon’s meltdown. Who knew he would get so freaked out? But, I have a feeling it was less about the possible appearance of a ghost and more about the actual appearance of a God. James, in particular. I wish I could stay out of the way of this awkwardness, but something tells me I’ll be the deer-in-headlights witness to it all.
All of that aside, knowing the air velocity of an unladen swallow can’t just be king’s knowledge. I wonder if Susan heard any answers on the recording? I’m so curious. I think I’m really getting into this! Who knew this would happen?! The mundane daily pour and nap at the Books & Brew just doesn’t have the same appeal these days. Also, Cassidy apparently got a job across town at Bicker Bikes corporate office. I haven’t seen him in weeks. Thank God (not James) I’ve got this whole crazy freak show job on the side with B and Fallon to keep things interesting.

The Silver Shadows


There’s this crazy cool thing called Loot Crate if you haven’t heard (Ahem, cough – cough, B.). You get a monthly subscription box of gamer goodies and nerd awesomeness. My favorite so far was the Covert theme box filled with spy contents. In addition to a spy watch and a number of other espionage items, was an exclusive Orphan Black comic! So, yeah…I’m a bit of a Loot Crate fan. B needs to catch up to the party.

There’s a reading group at Books & Brew made up of women in their seventies, The Silver Shadows. They meet once a month and discuss some random book of hauntings. I usually just glare at them until they leave, but this time I soaked up everything I could hear while rearranging the New Releases table. I guess my sly wasn’t so on point because I was approached by one Betty White looking gal on her way out. She handed me a pamphlet with classes on ghost hunting. I’m going to try and get B to sign up for one of these. Her methods could use some refinement. If we’re going to do this we need to operate like a well-oiled machine.


B just texted me something about a Monkey and Loot Crate. I don’t think I got that theme box. What is she talking about?

Oh, Crypto Code

Every time I think about B in that chroma key suit I pee myself a little. I’m starting to see the entertainment value in this freak show of a side job.
This time I got to stretch my Unix coding skills a bit. How do I know Unix? Well, back in December I had the flu from hell. It knocked me off my feet for two days and in a fevered delirium of Nyquil induced YouTube half-conscious mania, I mistakenly watched a web show called, Unix in a Pinch. I thought it was a Harry Potter fan vlog. Don’t ask.
So anyway…the knowledge imparted from this tech show was obviously lying dormant in some dark recess of my mind waiting for the exact moment when I could use it to draw out a digital chupacabra from it’s hiding hole.
While B tried some 8-bit farming distractions in front of the green screen Fallon and I cornered that nasty little crypto code, copy-paste-trapped it into a flash drive and rm -f’d that source file out of the game! It never saw us coming!
Done and done.
Does this make me a hacker? I have a feeling this does make me a hacker. I think I’m starting to have a complex about this.
It’s just too good. I love that suit.

Patreon is Safe Once More!

Oh, Fallon.
It’s understandable that a fellow might get so caught up in the pursuit of his own dream that he develops tunnel vision. It’s also perfectly reasonable that in the pursuit of said dream a sudden unexplained windfall might elicit no questions to its validity. I get it. I support the arts. I’m an investor! Granted, I am Fallon’s only other investor…who wasn’t a demonic entity trying to drain his soul of creative energy.
Fallon and "The Harelander"
Fallon and “The Harelander”
The point is you should always question someone who knowingly uses 666 in their user name. Luckily, Fallon’s binge eating has returned to normal levels of inappropriateness and he seems back to his old self-
No, let me take that back. He’s not quite there yet.
James, B’s God friend from San Francisco, kind of just popped up suddenly to save Fallon’s soul. He seems like a nice guy…God. God man. God fellow. Hmmm, I’m going to have to work on that one. And, though Fallon was appreciative I can only assume it’s not the easiest thing to be saved by some God who may or may not have stirred up confusion for your girlfriend. This is sounding too Days of our ancient Greek Lives.
But, he has nothing to worry about with B. I’m sure of it.