News Bleeder

I'm not gonna say I'm the world's expert on James J. Kilpatricks, but he's dead now, and apparently he started out writing for the Richmond News Leader. When we were young bucks, Brothatime! was in charge of walking down to Sunnyside in the morning for the Richmond Times-Dispatch, and when we got home from school I had to walk to Sunnyside and get the News Leader, which, every single day, was fucking terrifying:

THE ZAMBELLAS: had older, high school kids who were complete losers. And a 9000-lb Doberman whose sole purpose in life was to try to give me a heart attack whenever I’d hafta walk down to the store to get the evening paper. Thing would be waiting for me to cross into his property alongside the road. I’d start sprinting to get to the other end of the yard and he’d be running with me, separated by the ditch. He’d explode into a fury, spitting blood and sending the voice of hell down through my spine. “I’m just getting a newspaper for my dad!!” I’d holler at him, which would only infuriate him more. The second I crossed the property line into the next yard BAM! his body instantly would go limp and he’d have his “So, cicadas every 17 years, how bout that?” bored look on his face. Asshole.

To this day I cannot see the words "Richmond News Leader" without thinking of that fucking dog. Ironically Pavlovian, no?

I should also note that I had a second job, filling up my dad's water bottle and putting it in the car every morning. Brothatime!'s job was to go out into the world and succeed while not embarrassing the family, so hey. No small roles in a family, I guess.