**SPOILER** this post has nothing to do with comics. 

No, I mean “Marvel with me” over the weird kinda fucked up shit that one can run across while simply driving down the road.  Now you know Mick and I tend to do a bit of driving fairly often, and while we’re not often searching for adventure and intrigue it has a way of crossing our path anyway.  Tonight’s journey actually started on Sunday as we were driving back from Pottsville and visiting Mick’s family.  I pulled into a gas station in Lampasas (the one I always stop at, the one that’s halfway between Pottsville and home) and fill up the car while Mick goes inside for caffiene.  As I’m sitting, waiting, I notice there’s a house next door with a bunch of antiques in the yard and a big banner that says “OPEN”.  And right underneath that is a green 5-drawer chest that would look great in my guest room.  So on the way out of the parking lot, I point it out to Mick and he suggests I check it out.  Long story short, the price tag said $65, and I’d be an idiot not to bring it home immediately.  Unfortunately, immediately was not an option; we’d have to come back with the truck and pick it up.  Fast forward to today, Tuesday, when we decide it’s a nice night for a drive back out to Lampasas.  We get the dresser, we stop at Storm’s for dinner, we head home.  A couple miles outside of town, I see this:

From 30 yards and at 70 mph, I was baffled.  So Mick turned around and we went back and pulled up on the side street.  That’s when I saw this:

Fish heads on a fence. Not even shitting you.

 So apparently this is not an uncommon practice in the country.  Mick tells me that this is definitely not the first time he’s seen fish heads on a fence.  He grew up white trash country, he’s spent a lot of time in the country, so I believe him.  I, on the other hand, grew up in the ghetto, and although I’ve spent a lot of time in the country, it’s usually been on the back of a motorcycle.  So that was my first “what-the-hell-was-that-turn-around-now” moment of the evening.

The second came about 45 minutes later.  Just south of Seward Junction, there’s a house.  Well, not really a house, more like a FUCKING COMPOUND that’s built right up by the highway.  At first pass, all I saw were 20 ft spiked timbers lining an entry gate, the Confederate flag and a “Come and Take It” flying proudly. 

“What the hell was that?” Mick asked.

“I don’t know, but he’s got fucking battlements!” I replied.

We turned around. 

What the...

No way...

Holy crap!

That’s no moon, that’s a MOTHERFUCKING SPACE STATION.  This man had not built himself a house, but a fortress.  As we slowed, I counted 8 buildings immediately visible on the premesis, at least one of which was a converted caboose.  With the windows down, you could hear kennels full of large dogs barking and howling from inside the fence.  And I know to most folks, the construction out front looks like a drainage line being put in for the new subdivision across the road; but to me, it looked a hell of a lot like the guy was putting in a moat.  Not even kidding you.  So I guess when the Socialist revolution or the redneck apocalypse comes, this dude is gonna be ready. 

P.S. if any of you have any insight onto the story of this house or its inhabitants, please let me know.  I’m absolutely fascinated.  

Well, I just wanted to share those tidbits with you.  If you’re ever in Lampasas, check out the antiques store behind Skinny’s, he’s got some neat stuff!  I’m off to do a bit of reading in this book that I absolutely adore.  I’ll tell you about it later. Love ya, mean it!