My Belated Xmas Goose

Ezekiel Krahlin's
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My Belated Xmas Goose
01.16.08 (12:02 am)   [edit]

Albeit well cooked!


Here is a record of the incident, as excerpted from an e-mail to several friends:

I was attacked (knocked out cold) on the evening of December 23, 2007. When I came to, I discovered my wallet emptied of money, state ID, and WAMU debit card.

I don't remember a thing. A good Samaritan Dave, found me lying in my own blood by the agave plant on the northeast corner of Market & Castro.

NO ONE else helped, didn't even call 911. He offered to, but I said no, please don't.

BTW, I don't REMEMBER telling him anything, don't recollect a THING between the hours of 8 and 11pm. (Last thing I do recall, is walking into the bar few doors up from where Andy's Donuts once stood, now a Sushi bar. Part of my evening patrol: step into one or two bars, walk around, maybe sit a minute, then exit.) I was already in my room with Dave, when I came to. (I must have been conscious for a while as he helped me down the block, to my home, then lapsed again into coma.)

There were some paper towels wadded up on the file cabinet I use for a mini-kitchenette...sopped w/blood. I have a bad gash on the upper left part of my forehead.

I asked Dave if he saw who attacked me. He said no, just spotted my prostrate self among the succulents. I believe I was cold-cocked. Dave thinks I need stitches, but my wound should heal fine, w/o any scar. The left side of my cranium down to the tip of my ear, is numb. No swelling, though.

(continued on other side...)


I know who it is.

We were buddies for several years (nothing sexual). Name is Chris. Big, strong blonde dude. Did I say "strong"? I meant "COLOSALLY POWERFUL". Used to come over a lot, sleep overnight. Lately, he's been avoiding me, acting real nervous like. Chris wields a couple-a hefty U-locks: one for his bike and one to cold-cock an aggressor. In fact, I did APPRECIATE it when two times in our friendship, he brandished that lock to drive away some goon gearin' to beat me up.

So it hit me like a bolt of carbon-alloy forged steel on my head: Chris whizzed by on his racer and WHACKED me solid with a powerful backswing of the left arm. The damage to my forehead and the deep mark it made, gushing blood fits PERFECTLY my surmisal. The other, slight contusion of my left-sided face and right hand? The result of my fall. Obviously.

This ALSO explains why I have NO recollection of my attacker's identity. I didn't see it coming. Happened in a FLASH. Stealth attack, big time! There's a good chance that no one actually even noticed, due to the way that corner's set up, and the traffic volume. What witnesses there might have been scurried away like tarantulas.

Dave explained: "While I was helping you home, this blond guy approached me, claimed to be your friend, offered to help. Said he lives in your building, followed me all the way to the gate! I drove him away."

I thought nothing of it then, but did remark: "I don't have any blond friend who lives here."

Chris is NOT his real name, it's Peter (he showed me his ID two years ago.) Unfortunately, I do NOT remember his surname. I DO have his cell phone, though: 415-374-3198. Hopefully, this will confirm my suspicion, when one of WAMU's investigators matches his image from a McDonald's tape with his Metro PCS account.

I am a gay street activist whose recent confrontations with various unpleasant types has triggered threats upon my person. This incident I believe, is directly related. Chris IS a local drug dealer, bicycles mostly in Eureka Valley, The Mission and South of Market Areas. I don't know his current residence, nor his real last name.

Thank you for looking into this matter. If I can be of any more service don't hesitate to contact me.

Yours truly,

Ezekiel J. Krahlin


posted by: soulsought (reply)
post date: 01.16.08 (9:48 am)

Well, the burbanites in Pleasonton have no more of a clue to urban life than they do to extraterrestrials on other planets. They probably think Rice-a-Roni is made in Frisco and complimentarily served on cable cars.

posted by: ZekeBlog (reply)
post date: 01.17.08 (11:18 pm)

Don't know 'bout this Rice-a-Roni, but I DO know something about Polish sausage. Last time I rode a cable car it was PACKED, with some dude's fat KIELBASA pressed hard against my butt for the ENTIRE ride. I NEVER wanted to get off, but finally did, a few blocks before my stop. It WAS a relief.

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