KRAZED: A MAN TRUMP, THE GODS, AND THE WORLD CANNOT TAME

June 11, 2018 [WILDLY KRAZY]—After I wrote the "SUGAR BABIES: FUCKING FOR MONEY" article, we were bombarded with Whispers and emails from WILDLY KRAZY subscribers, asking us to do an article on KRAZED…KRAZED Industries' CEO.

When I asked KRAZED's permission to share his story, he refused, saying, "I don't have time for that shit—I'm in the middle of getting KRAZEDWEAR's manufacturing equipment up and running, so that we can start the production of our clothing brands."

"Do an interview on yourself, son," KRAZED told me.

However, when I told him about the 263 emails we received from subscribers and fans wanting to know his story, he reluctantly agreed.

"263 emails?" KRAZED asked.

"For sure," I stated.

"Those fuckers must be really bored if they want to read about my life… I tell you what—if I do this, I do not want you to hold back… Give them what they want," KRAZED told me.

"Tell them everything?" I asked.

"Yes…well, as much as you can while keeping the article fairly short. If our readers are anything like me, they have the attention span of a fucking pecker-gnat," KRAZED said, laughing.

"When do you want to sit down for the interview," I asked.

"You already know my story…just write it," KRAZED responded.

"It's not the same, bitch face—I want to put your comments and insights into the article, so I need a personal interview."

"Do you want to gaze into my eyes, too, princess?" KRAZED said, being a smart ass.

"Maybe, sweet cheeks."

"I always knew you had homo-tendencies," KRAZED said, laughing.

"Only for you, sweet thing," I said, winking.

"Oh shit…now you're talking dirty, and I love dirty talk. Now that you gave me a hard-on, I'll do the interview on Monday, but it requires a blow job, too. I promise I won't tell your girl, if you don't tell my wife…" KRAZED said, smirking and winking.

"Get the fuck out of here, Harvey Weinstein."

[KRAZED LAUGHS]

Personally, I knew KRAZED would agree once he found out his "Krazees" were interested in reading his story. I pretty much used his weakness against him… Muhahahaha!

From a distance, KRAZED is mysterious, unpredictable, secretive, quirky, cocky, brash and an arrogant asshole, but once you enter his circle of Krazees, you will not find a more loyal Krazee, especially a Krazee that would, literally, fight and die for you. Anyone that personally knows KRAZED and his story, would agree and attest to that statement, which you will understand within this article.

First and foremost, I would like to thank him for allowing me to share his life story, because, personally, for me, it is very entertaining and inspiring at the same time.

I always told him he was man with nine lives, because if you or I tried and did the shit that KRAZED has, we would either be dead or locked up in prison.

If you are a young adult struggling with the concept of 'God', depression, bullies, poverty, active in the gang-life, and-or an entrepreneur, this is a story you should read. If you want to laugh your ass off, this is a story for you.

I have, personally, known KRAZED for damn near eleven years now, and have participated in many of his shenanigans. Therefore, I will not reveal everything that I know about him, because some shit should stay a secret, for both our sake and safety, no matter how nonchalant he is.

Some secrets, especially when it involves world governments and leaders, should stay a secret, and he would agree; thus, I am just throwing that out there, for your better understanding that I will not go into great detail about his work with the United States government, and world governments and leaders.

I mean, do you know anyone that called the United States President a "fucking fool", personally? Do know anyone that told the United States President, personally, that he was "fucking arrogant, but not that fucking stupid."

Have you ever met a man that challenged and took on global and powerful institutions, such as the Vatican, Mormon Church, and other "old churches"?

Have you ever met a man that built an organization from scrap, from combat veterans and some of the world's most powerful military minds?

Have you ever met a man that has advised the world's most powerful leaders?

Like I said, you need to read this article…

Growing up, KRAZED did not find out who his father was until he was 11-years-old. His mother was a single mother that raised three boys, alone, but she always made liquor and partying higher priorities. Like his father, KRAZED's mother was damn near nonexistent; thus, he had to quickly learn how to survive on his own, on the streets, among gangs.

KRAZED's grandma was full-blooded Hispanic, who came to America from Mexico when she was a young girl; however, his grandpa, on his dad's side—the one who married his Hispanic grandma—was full-blooded German, while on his mother's side, they were all Greek and German. Therefore, KRAZED, even though his dad's side is Hispanic, looks mostly white; thus, KRAZED is a "White Spic," according to Marine Lance Corporal Perez, who always gave him shit while in the Marines.

With that said, KRAZED still has family that lives in Mexico, which is why Perez always jokes around, saying, "Homie, you're the only white-wet-back that I know that has family behind the wall."

At the age of four, KRAZED started drawing, while his favorite subjects were guns, war, combat, aliens, ghosts, monsters, zombies, and naked women. If you read his short story, "FAITH", and his tease article for his upcoming web graphic novel, "MALEFICUS", you would get a clear picture of KRAZED's style of writing, pretty quickly.

If you read his journalism and investigative work, "GENOCIDE: BLACKS KILLING BLACKS" for WILD N' KRAZY, you would understand that KRAZED lives a different lifestyle, and he is not very professional; he is way too honest, and way too 'street'.

I have read several chapters of "MALEFICUS" thus far, which is pretty damn entertaining, and that is coming from someone who hates reading. If you like horror, war, and humor rolled into one, you will love "MALEFICUS."

Anyways, by the age of 13, KRAZED had drawn a sex book—a fucking art book that puts the kamasutra to shame. I have seen the book, and I wanted to put some of the artwork into this article, but, of course, KRAZED refused.

Picture this—this fucker illustrated 169 pages of sex art—positions I did not know existed...if the positions are even possible.

After I asked him if the 169 pages were a coincidence, or if he intentionally did it, KRAZED replied, "dude, it’s a fuck-book—of course I did it on purpose."

At first, when he told us Marines about the book, I did not believe him, but when he showed us the book, I was baffled.

"Okay, fucker—at that age, I was watching Looney Tunes—Porky Pig—and had zero clue what the hell sex or a pussy was, let alone 169 sex positions."

"Shit, we never had cable when I was growing up, so I never watched TV, and still don't to this day. Playboy, Penthouse, and Hustler were my entertainment as a young fucker," KRAZED said, laughing.

"When I was growing up, I always wanted to overthrow Hugh Hefner and become the king of adult entertainment, because I saw his flaws, and the magazine's weaknesses. I mean, look at the website and magazine today, and you will understand what I am talking about… It's all regurgitated shit, like the majority of magazines and internet content… Eventually, I want to progress WILDLY KRAZY into what Playboy should have been… Sadly, though, I did not launch my magazine before he died. Rest in peace, Krazee," KRAZED said, talking to Hefner.

When I asked him how he got a hold of all the porn magazines, KRAZED replied, "one of my mom's low-life boyfriends left them behind after I chased him out of the house with a hammer."

Of course, I had to ask about the hammer story, too…

"Dude, I grew up fighting grown-ass men—men 20 to 30-years older—thanks to the dead-beats my mom would drag home, and the fucks from the streets," KRAZED said.

"This dipshit tried to move in with us, and tried to boss everyone around, like he owned the shit. You know me, I don't put up with people's bullshit, no matter who the fuck they are; plus, I was the man of the house—I took care of my brothers and I while she was out doing god knows what. That was my house, you know… One day he told me to go clean my room, because he was tired of looking at it, even though it was not his house, and he did not pay bills, so I said, 'go fuck yourself—make me clean it,'" KRAZED continued.

"At that time, I was 13-years-old when that big-tattooed motherfucker jumped up off the couch, choke slammed me up against the wall, causing the pictures to fall off… This fuck put all of his strength into my neck, choking me to where I could not breathe, but you know what they say, right? The bigger they are, the harder they fall…" KRAZED added, smiling.

"That dipshit stood there like a water buffalo, with his legs spread as far as they could spread, in order to support his massive weight, so I took advantage. I swung my right foot up as fast as I possibly could, and Charlie-Brown kicked the shit out of his nuts."

"His knees instantly buckled, causing him to fall to the floor on his knees. When he tried to stand up, he was off balance and wobbly, making this god-awful screechy-moan-sound as he bent over, putting his hands on his knees, gasping for air… The son of a bitch sounded like a cat getting its nuts smashed between a vice-grip…"

"As he stood, bent over and gasping for air, making catcalls, I sprinted and shoulder pushed his big ass into the entertainment-stand, breaking it into dozens of pieces, crashing him and the broken wood onto the floor."

"I quickly ran into the kitchen and grabbed the hammer from the junk-drawer. By that time, he was running at me, but I swung for the home-run, hitting him in his ribs as he covered his head with his right arm. I swung the hammer two more times, hitting him in his arm and in his back as he ran out of the front door."

"When he ran outside, I slammed the door shut, locked it, and grabbed a kitchen knife, waiting for him to try and come back in. He never tried, though… From the front-room window, I watched him sit in our driveway on his hands and knees, puking. After puking, he laid there for at-least twenty minutes on his back."

"I thought I done killed the motherfucker. Eventually, though, he got up and left."

"That was the last time I saw him; he never came back for his shit… I had all of the porn I could read and consume as a little fucker. Three large boxes full, which I hid under my bed," KRAZED added, laughing.

"So you beat the shit out of a biker, stole his porn mags, and used them as your perverted references?"

"Dude, I drew pussies and I beat pussies," KRAZED said, laughing hysterically.

"How many guys did you chase out of your house with hammers?" I asked.

"Damn… Man…too many to remember. This one night, when I was 12-years-old, one of my mother's boyfriends beat her up, bad. Of course, I was the last to know, because no one wanted to call and tell me, but when I got home from staying with a friend over the weekend, I found out what had happened."

"I instantly blacked-out, and I do not remember what happened from there. Have you ever been so pissed that you black out and cannot remember a damn thing? All I remember is my mom, my aunt, and my two brothers pulling me off this guy, trying to grab the ball bat from my hands. That fucker was lying there, curled up, with his head gaped open, bleeding on our front room floor," KRAZED said.

"Did he survive?" I asked, laughing.

"Ya…" KRAZED said, laughing.

As you can imagine, KRAZED hated authority, and was not afraid to stand and fight, no matter who they were. School was no different, either.

When he was in kindergarten, his teacher made him sit inside from recess to recolor a fire truck coloring page, which went over like a lead balloon.

"On my first Friday of kindergarten, my teacher got pissed off at me because I colored the fire truck yellow, instead of red… She said, 'fire trucks are not yellow! How stupid do you have to be to think they would manufacturer yellow fire trucks? Fire trucks are red because they represent fire—their job—hence fire truck…red fire truck. Recolor it while everyone else goes outside for recess,'" KRAZED informed me.

"I said, 'but I saw a yellow fire truck at Rosecrans airbase.'"

"She then said, 'you're either stupid or colorblind, because Rosecrans has red and white fire trucks,'" KRAZED added, laughing.

"I was pissed, and from that point on, I hated the old hag… Therefore, when they went outside for recess, I stayed inside and colored the fucking fire truck blue… She was pissed off, too. Hath no fury like a woman scorned," KRAZED said, laughing.

"This old hag sat me in the corner, all alone, from the rest of the class. She told the class, 'students, this is Steven—we do not talk to Steven, because Steven is not one of us; he isn't smart enough to know that fire trucks are red, not yellow, and not blue,'" KRAZED said, laughing.

"Poor bastard," I said, laughing.

"So you were stuck in a corner by yourself the entire year?" I asked KRAZED.

"Dude, this bitch caged me up like a rabid animal… I was stuck at a desk, behind a plywood wall, the entire time I was there. I couldn't see anyone, and no one could see me. At that time, kindergarten was only half a day, but still, I had to sit behind that wooden wall from 7:40am until 12:30pm, not able to talk or socialize with any of my classmates. I couldn't go to lunch with everyone else, either; instead, I had to eat lunch with first and second graders, after all the kindergartners ate. I couldn't go outside for recess, either, just because I colored a fucking fire truck yellow," KRAZED said, laughing.

Isolated from his classmates, KRAZED sat back behind the wall, drawing and day dreaming his entire year of kindergarten, until he got bored.

"Dude, I would sit back there and day dream, but when I got bored, I'd get up and run outside, all the way home… I'd usually wait about an hour after my mom dropped me off at school, and then I'd run home," KRAZED said.

"She never chased you, or tried to stop you?" I asked, laughing.

"The first couple of times she did, but I was too fast. She was old; she couldn't move too fast. Eventually, though, after a couple of times of running out, she stopped trying to prevent me from running home. After a few weeks of me running home, she would say, 'bye, Steven,' as I ran out of the classroom," KRAZED said, laughing.

"She couldn't lock the door, either, because of fire regulations, so the door always opened from the inside. All the kids would stop what they were doing, and watched as I ran outside to go home. I'm sure those fuckers thought I was a special kid, but I just hated school, and I especially hated that teacher," KRAZED said, laughing.

School did not get much better for KRAZED after kindergarten, either, as you can imagine.

In 4th grade, KRAZED was suspended from school for fighting during gym.

"As you know, I am a very competitive person, especially when it comes to sports… He was, too, which is what led up to the fight in the first place. We were playing basketball, and shit-talk erupted between the two of us, until he runs up and kicks me in the stomach, and punches my head, several times. I pushed him back, and launched the basketball at his face, hitting him square in the nose…so hard that the basketball flew straight in the air, hitting the ceiling at the other end of the gym. He instantly fell on his back with a thud, bleeding profusely from his nose," KRAZED said.

"Now, we're Krazees… We played basketball together throughout our high school years, until we graduated," KRAZED said, laughing.

Competitive he was, as he played on a traveling basketball team, competing against teams and schools across the nation. In 6th grade, KRAZED earned the city's MVP player of the year, and his name put into the local newspaper for his achievement of being the top three scorer in the city, earning him second place. If he was not playing basketball, he was lifting weights.

In addition, during his 6th grade year, the city paid for KRAZED to attend Missouri Western State University's art classes during the summer, after he won first place in the city's art contest among the city's 16 grade schools. In county, KRAZED took second for the same art contest, getting beat by a girl [I laughed when he told me that].

"When I joined the college summer art classes, I was sitting in classes with college students, of course, and I was lost…totally lost...and I could not find my classes, so this young, pretty college student helped me every day to my classes," KRAZED said.

"A few times, I rode with her in her car to sit at her house during breaks between classes, where she'd make me sandwiches and a drink for lunch, until it was time to go back to our classes," KRAZED continued.

"She was a little eccentric, you know—like a nerdy art girl—but she had a rocking body that most girls would kill for. If I was a little older…man…sammiches…nothing beats a woman that can make sammiches," KRAZED said, laughing.

At the beginning of 7th grade, KRAZED's family was kicked out of their house, forcing them to move to the ghetto, where he faced his greatest challenge, yet—gangs.

"My mom spent damn near all of her money at the bar, while our lights, water, and gas were shut off, until, eventually, we were kicked out for not paying rent," KRAZED stated.

"About two weeks after we moved in, a group of thugs—about 7 to 10-years older than myself—tried fucking with my little brother while he was out in the street, riding his bike. He was only about 8 or 9 at the time, while I was 13 or 14."

"They forced him off his bike, and started riding it, mocking and laughing at him, until he ran in the house, crying. Of course, my mom ran outside to try to get my brother's bike back, but they circled her in the middle of the street, calling her a 'stupid bitch,' threatening to 'beat her ass,'" KRAZED said.

"I ran outside with a ball bat and hit the fucker on the bike two or three times, until he fell off, hitting the ground. His homies tried to bum-rush me from all sides, so I just swung the bat like a wild man, hitting a few of them in the process, until they gave up and walked up the street."

"A few hours later, they come back down our street, walked into our yard and started yelling and threatening my mom, again, while she was outside doing yard work. I, of course, run outside and tackled the nearest fucker near me, swinging and punching the bastard in his head, until his homies jumped me from behind."

"Here I am, 13-years-old in my own backyard, fist fighting ten to fifteen young men in their high teens, to lower twenties. Some of these fuckers had beards, and all were decked out in blue, and covered in tattoos."

"My mom is in the backyard screaming at the top of her lungs, while I stand there fist fighting, getting my ass kicked. It seemed like an eternity, but eventually three neighbor guys jumped our fence and pulled the fuckers off of me, and chased them off. I, however, had two black eyes, a fat lip, mouth bleeding, and both my eyebrows were cut open, bleeding. I looked, and felt like shit six days afterwards."

When you look at KRAZED, you will notice a scar in his right eyebrow from fighting that day. He incorporated this scar in "Joken Jester"—WILDLY KRAZY's logo, along with KRAZED Industries' "Rebel Skull".

"From there, my life changed forever," KRAZED said.

The guys that helped KRAZED were men in their late twenties and early thirties—three brothers that lived across the street from KRAZED.

Shortly afterwards, KRAZED started hanging out over at their house, looking up to them as if they were his older brothers. From there, KRAZED was introduced to marijuana, liquor and alcohol, and women.

"I was 13 when I first got high, drunk, and got my first piece of ass from a 24-year-old college student, all in the same day," KRAZED said, laughing.

"We were at their crib, stoned and drunk off our asses, when this blonde, sexy chick starts sucking off my buddy, Jordon—the oldest of the three brothers—as he sat on the couch. She knelt right in front of him, on the floor, doggy-style," KRAZED continued.

"I'm sitting on the couch next to him, when he whispers, 'go hit it from behind,'" KRAZED said.

"She blurts out, 'I heard that!'"

"Jordon told the girl, 'he's a virgin—let him bust his first nut; it won't take but ten seconds'," KRAZED said, laughing.

"The girl says, 'how old is he? He looks twelve," KRAZED said.

"Jordon says, 'He's seventeen; he's legal,' lying his ass off."

"The chick replies back, 'hurry up then,'" KRAZED adds.

"As I get up off the couch, she stands up, slips off her panties from under her skirt, and bends over the couch. You know, I watched, drew, and looked at so much porn as a little fucker, I was pretty much an expert at the human anatomy, on paper, but, as a virgin, seeing the real thing right in front of my face, I lost my shit…" KRAZED said, laughing hysterically.

"I got extremely nervous, and I'm not sure if it was the weed or the beer, but I got dizzy as well. My dick was saluting, but my brain was 'Charlie Foxtrot' [cluster-fuck]—like what the fuck am I supposed to do with this..?" KRAZED added, laughing.

"I'm 13-years-old, and I all see is two holes—one creamy, and one dry—so I tried to slip it in her ass, because I didn't want to stick my dick in an orifice that had snot oozing from it," KRAZED said, laughing.

At this point, we were all in the barracks laughing our asses off—when he first told us Marines about his virginity story—because we already knew how this was going to end…

"I rammed my dick into her ass as hard and as fast as I possibly could—about breaking it in half—only getting the head inside before the chick bucked her ass like a bull, and yells, 'no…no…not that hole—the hole below it!'" KRAZED said, laughing hysterically.

"I thought to myself, 'do I really have to stick my dick into that creamy mess…are pussies supposed to drip snot?'" KRAZED added, laughing.

"I thought about it for like two seconds, and then I slipped it in… Oh my god…it felt like heaven, and all my fears of pussy juice magically vanished. My male instincts instantly kicked in, and I short-stroked the shit out of that pussy for about fifteen seconds, until my dick flopped out like an unmanned-fire-hose, spraying up her back, and into her hair," KRAZED said, laughing.

"It was like the biggest nut I have ever nutted, too. I swear, it shot like five-feet, because we found nut on the floor, behind the couch, which flew over her head," KRAZED continued, laughing.

"She ran into the bathroom, screaming, 'you came in my hair—you got it all over me! Oh my god—it's everywhere!'" KRAZED said, laughing.

"I screamed back, 'sorry, princess!'" KRAZED added.

"Jordan was laying on the couch, holding his stomach, and laughing so hard that his face turned red," KRAZED said, laughing hysterically.

Jordon and his two brothers, Matt and Justin, were KRAZED's "new family," as he put it. Everywhere they went, KRAZED rode along, learning from and experiencing life with guys in their late twenties and early thirties.

"During the weekends, when they did not have to work, we spent our entire days at the firing range, getting drunk or high, and-or chasing pussy. By the time I was 14, I could break down, clean, and put together a large variety of firearms, thanks to Jordan teaching me," KRAZED stated.

"Jordan served in the Army as an 11B-infantryman, teaching me everything there was to know about the AR-15 platform, the M-24, and various handguns and shotguns," KRAZED added.

"The fucker had an arsenal in his house, which intrigued and inspired me even more," KRAZED continued.

"When I was not with them, I spent my days at the public library, reading and studying war and military history, along with modern and ancient weaponry," KRAZED said.

"Who were your favorite military leaders?" I asked KRAZED.

"George Washington, Leonidas—son of the lion—Alexander the Great, and Spartacus, hands down," KRAZED replied.

"Besides Alexander, the other three fought for their people's freedom, which I greatly admire," KRAZED added.

"George Washington is the only American military leader you admire?" I asked KRAZED.

"Patton was another American military leader…do you not admire him for his effort in America's freedom?" I asked KRAZED.

"I admire my great grandpa who I met before he died, who fought in World War 2 as an Army infantryman during the Battle of the Bulge," KRAZED shot back.

"I admire him because he quit his job and left his family behind and voluntarily enlisted into the Army as an infantryman to fight for his country. During the Battle of the Bulge, which I did not find out until much later after he died, thanks to my grandma telling me, he had to cover up with the bodies of his fallen soldiers, just to stay alive during the freezing nights in their foxholes. One night, German tanks, and infantrymen advanced on my grandpa's position, as fighter planes swooped down, spraying their positions with machine gun fire. At the time, my grandpa was wearing a bible with a steel plate cover in his right jacket pocket that his wife—my grandma—had given him, when a bullet hit him in the chest. Lo and behold, the bible stopped the bullet, and that is the only thing that saved his life," KRAZED added.

"He fought in France, Italy, and Germany, until he came home and joined the rail road. I respect any one who fights and dies for their nation, no matter their country or nationality," KRAZED continued.

"Even the ones that fight against and kill American soldiers?" I asked KRAZED.

"Just because I respect them, does not mean they are not my enemy," KRAZED shot back.

"You see, we are all pawns in this fucked up world, who fight and die in wars that never solve a damn thing, or wars we never understand, for people who control all of the money and all of the power in the world… War and violence are like sex—we humans have done it since the beginning of our species, and it will never end. We all bleed red, and we all have a hand in the carnage, directly or indirectly, which reminds me of another man I greatly admire, especially for his honesty," KRAZED continued.

"To better understand that last statement—for everyone who has not read it—I highly suggest reading the book, 'War is a Racket' by Marine Corps Major General and two-time Medal of Honor, Smedley Butler," KRAZED said.

War, politics, business, and sex—the only things KRAZED understands and knows, as they are his passions in life; the only subjects that he relates to.

By the time he was 15-years-of-age, he had already slept with twenty-three women—the youngest girl being three-years older than himself—KRAZED claims, and swears by.

"There was this 18-year-old high school girl that lived eight blocks from me that I would fuck just about every day, even when she was on her period. I mean, she was a freak, and fun as hell," KRAZED said, laughing.

"She had a boyfriend, too, that was 22-years-old, serving in the Army. When her dad and boyfriend left, she would call Jordan's house, looking for me, and I'd run over and play with pussy. I was her Jody," KRAZED said, laughing…

"Did she know you were 15?" I asked.

"I told her I was 17," KRAZED said, laughing.

"I lifted weights and played basketball, daily, so I was muscular, and bigger and taller than her boyfriend, so I pulled it off well. No lie, I was more muscular and greater in shape than her boyfriend who was in the Army, which, I think, was the reason she craved my cock so much," KRAZED added, laughing hysterically.

KRAZED's luck, however, damn near ran out when her dad barged into the room, finding him fucking his daughter, doggy-style, while she was on her period.

"She was always a loud fuck—squealing and moaning—and I always, in the back of my mind, knew her dad would someday hear her when he came home. That's why I constantly had to tell her to be quiet," KRAZED said, laughing.

"Eventually, it happened. She was knelt, doggy-style, on her bed—face and chest in her pillow, and her ass arched into the air—as I stood up on her bed, pounding that pussy like bloody steak," KRAZED said, laughing.

"She was on her period, so I had blood all over my dick, balls, and pelvic area, but I didn't give a fuck. I was hitting it so hard and fast that my balls were hitting her pelvic, causing them to hurt and sting, but I kept going like a ferocious Lion," KRAZED said, laughing.

"I was standing butt-ass naked on her bed, with just my shoes on, holding her ass with my left hand, and leaning up against her bedroom wall with my right hand, when her dad barged in, trying to snatch my ass up," KRAZED added.

"Before I got married, as a young fucker, I always wore my shoes when I had sex, just for situations like this one. It's street smarts—you know? You never know when you have to run, or fight, so you're always prepared," KRAZED continued, laughing.

"He went to tackle me on the bed, and I jumped and leaped over his back like a fucking gazelle, sprinting out of her bedroom as he gave chase," KRAZED said.

"He had a grim reaper tattooed on his forearm, riding a motorcycle," KRAZED added.

"I could see it in his eyes, too—that big, bearded, bald motherfucker wanted to kill me, and he would have, too, if he got a hold me. I ran through her house, out the backdoor, and through her backyard as her dad gave chase. I leaped over her bushes and off her backyard wall that fell six feet into the alley. I just kept running bare-ass-naked, with blood covered dick and balls, just wearing Nikes," KRAZED continued.

"I did not look back, either, as I ran down the middle of the neighborhood streets, as people stood on their front porch watching and yelling, while cars stopped and honked, until a cop car spotted me four blocks away," KRAZED said, laughing.

"I ran right in front of his car, when he turned on his lights and sirens, giving chase. Luckily, I have spic blood, too, because I darted down an alley, and jumped backyard fences—leaping over the chain-link fences without using my hands—like track hurdles."

"To my left, the first, original cop car pursued through the alley as I jumped backyard fences, while a second cop car to my right gave chase on the main street, in the front of the houses."

"On my sixth or seventh fence, I jumped into a backyard as two, older black women were barbecuing. The oldest woman screamed, yelling out an ear-piercing-scream—damn near giving her a heart attack—while the other black woman stood on her back porch holding uncooked steaks on a plate, saying, 'sweet Jesus', as I ran by. I just kept running, too, until I jumped like my ninth fence, damn near to the end of the street."

"Right before I jumped my last fence, into the last backyard, I jooked [turned sharply] and ran the opposite way, forcing the cop cars to drive all the way down the street until they were able to turn around."

"I weaved in and out of backyards and side yards until I lost them, until I came to my last fence to jump."

"Apparently, this last fence was taller than I thought, because when I went to jump it, my feet got caught on the top of the chain-link fence, causing me to crash, hard, onto my stomach."

"As I picked myself up, I saw one of the cop cars turn down the street, so I took off running again, down the middle of the street, across a busy intersection. My chest was covered in dirt and blood, as I run across the intersection, running a red light, damn near being hit by a city bus. This old man was sitting in his car, waiting his turn, when he leaned out of his car, and shouted, 'run, boy—run! Don't let them catch you!'"

"I ran across the intersection and into the parking lot of a large grocery store—running and weaving through parked cars, as people stood next to their shopping carts, staring as I ran by. This old, white-haired woman was pushing her cart out of the grocery store when she saw that I was running towards the grocery store. She immediately about-face [turns completely around], leaving her cart in the door way and speed walks back into the grocery store, like 'fuck this shit!'"

"Four cop cars zoom into the grocery store parking lot as I was about fifteen-feet from the front entrance, so I run left, alongside the grocery store, and into the back alley. At this point, I was just running—no idea where I was headed or going—I was just scared," KRAZED said, laughing.

"There was another neighborhood behind the grocery store, so I repeated the same damn thing—jumping fences, trying to escape, while my dick and balls flopped in the wind."

"As I was running, it occurred to me that I was headed in the same direction as my best-friend's house—the one who wrote the article about getting into trouble with Mike and the 'Big Red' dildo—so I ran for his house, which was about six blocks from the grocery store."

"About ten minutes later, I arrived in his backyard and saw his little sister's plastic pool filled with water. The pool was about seven feet long and maybe two feet deep—not very big—so I tipped the pool over, draining out the water on the ground, and hid under the pool," KRAZED said, laughing hysterically.

"I had no idea where the police were, and I sure as hell did not want to take a chance of getting spotted again, so I laid under that plastic Micky Mouse swimming pool, baking in the hot summer heat, for three to four hours until it was dark."

"When the sun started to go down, I crawled from underneath the swimming pool like a dirty creeper. I was drenched in sweat, and caked and smothered in dirt and pussy blood—smelling like sweaty pussy, stank ass, and ball funk rolled into one. Pretty much, I smelt like a shit-house on a tuna boat," KRAZED said, laughing.

"I ran up to the front door and banged on it until my best-friend opened the door. He asked what had happened, and I explained the entire story. I then took a shower at his house, threw on some of his clothes, and we both left to go to a party that Jordon was having," KRAZED said.

"You weren't afraid that his mom or dad would answer the door?" I asked.

"This was on a Saturday, so his mom was at work, bar-tending, and his dad always went fishing on the weekends with his buddies," KRAZED replied.

At the party, KRAZED was thrown deep into the gang world, as he was introduced to a biker 'club' at Jordon's house—Jordon's buddies.

"Like I said, growing up, most of the people I fought were grown ass men sixteen to thirty years older than I was—for the simple fact, they were the guys I kicked it with," KRAZED said.

"You know, I am a lovable and very likeable guy, but I always had problems making friends with fuckers my age, because I could never relate or understand their mentality, and they could never understand me…" KRAZED said, laughing.

"It's like that woman that attracts the assholes… Well, I am the asshole that attracts the undesirables, the misfits, and the outcasts. I understood them, and they understood me."

"The majority of these bikers were combat veterans, but they were not the type you invited to meet your parents," KRAZED added.

"Drugs, women, liquor, fighting, and firearms—I was a fucking expert at the age of 15, while everyone my age were afraid of 'cooties'," KRAZED continued.

"Mike, Matt, and Brandon were the only people I kicked it with that were my age, because they acted like I did; they were mature [KRAZED laughed after saying that], and level headed—they were street smart—go-getters," KRAZED stated.

In 7th grade, KRAZED and his family were kicked out of their house, again, forcing KRAZED to move across town, thirty minutes from Jordon's house.

"I hated my life, with a passion—depressed and full of anger—because I never had a stable a life, and I sure as fuck never had parents," KRAZED said.

"I was a child that had to grow up quick, because I was the only one I had. Nine days was the longest I went without eating, because we were so poor we could not even afford sugar—nor water—most of the time."

"Of course, I had friends that I could go over and stay and eat, but I was never the type to be a beggar. I always did shit myself; I took care of my own problems, and always took care of myself."

"I never had parents that I could run to, or count on when I had a problem; hell, they couldn't fix their own shit, let alone mine… There was a smart fucker that once said, 'trust no one.' Wise words, from a wise man," KRAZED said.

In 7th grade, KRAZED would meet his "first love"—a daughter of a Dallas Cowboys cheerleader.

"In the middle of my 7th grade year, Alexandria moved from Dallas, Texas, and enrolled into my school. I swear, she was like a Greek Goddess—the Beauty that tamed the Beast," KRAZED said, laughing.

"Blonde hair and blue eyes…she was a knockout, and for sure, received her looks from her mother. All of the boys in our school liked her, and constantly chased after her, but she never gave them the time, or the day," KRAZED added.

"A lot of guys were pissed when I started dating her, because I was a broke kid from the streets, that couldn't afford shit, but here I am, dating the most popular and prettiest girl in school; plus, her mom was a former Dallas Cowboys cheerleader, while her father was a huge banker," KRAZED continued.

"How did you meet her?" I asked, nervously.

"We were sitting in science class, and she was sitting across from me, so I got bored and asked her, 'have you ever played Army Men?'

"She replied, 'oh my god! I love that game! I have it at home!'" KRAZED said.

"The next day, she invited me over to her house to play Army Men while her parents were at work, because they worked long hours, until night time. Everything is history from there." KRAZED said, with a grin.

"Army Men? You seriously enticed a girl using Army Men? You are incapable of charm, aren't you?" I asked, laughing.

"Who the fuck needs charm? Just be a fucking man," KRAZED said, laughing.

"I know all about Alexandria, but I want the readers to know more about her…" I said.

"Well, write the article, fucker," KRAZED said, laughing.

"You went over to her house every day after school—what did you do that won her over? She was rich and very pretty…while…well…you are KRAZED…a broke kid from the streets… How the fuck did you do it?" I asked, laughing.

"What're you talking about, bitch tits? I am the most handsome that ever handsomed," KRAZED said, laughing.

"We were like Bonnie and Clyde—inseparable… She was supposed to ride the bus home, because her parents worked late, but she hated riding the bus, so I offered to walk her home every day, even in the freezing cold. Every day, we walked seven blocks to her house, holding hands and being teens…" KRAZED said.

"Your homeboys had a problem with it, too…" I said.

"Ya, they thought I was 'going soft', because I quit kicking it with them, which would eventually bite me in the ass…" KRAZED said.

"I was walking Alexandria home one day after school, when those same motherfuckers that jumped me in my backyard a few months earlier, tried to get revenge, again," KRAZED said.

"Their shot-caller [gang leader] runs up from behind me and swings at my head. I ducked, and he missed, as I came up and hit the fucker with a side hook, breaking his nose."

"I hear a loud 'pop' sound, and his nose splatters blood all over my shirt, as he fell to the ground with a nose that now sat crooked across his face. Before I could turn around to face his posse, they drug me to the ground, and kicked me in the face several times."

"My vision was white—I could not see a damn thing—and my mouth gushed blood. My eyes were wide opened, but everything was pure white, and I could not hear a damn thing around me, as a loud-deafening-ringing noise pierced my ears.… On like the fifth or sixth kick to the face, my vision instantly straightened out… As one of them went to kick me again, I lunge and tackled the dick head to the ground, punching him several times in the face, until he went limp and defenseless."

"The third, and final fucker took off running, so I pick up a large rock, launching it and hitting him in the back of the head, causing him to skid across the street on his stomach. Before he could get up, I jumped on his backed, and pounded him in the side of his head using both fists several times. After punching him several times, I told him that if he got up, I'd 'fucking kill him.'

"I stood up, and looked over at their shot-caller walking up the street, holding his nose with both hands," KRAZED said.

"What did you do next?" I asked.

"I went back to Alexandria's house, put ice on my lip and got a blowjob," KRAZED said, laughing.

"A blowjob?" I asked, laughing.

"A few weeks before that, I popped her cherry—I was her first… Anyways, after I got jumped, which was on a Friday, I ended up staying the night at her house. We passed out on her floor, watching 'Space Jam'.

"The next morning, I wake up on the floor with Alexandria, covered up… Her mom came home late from working at the hospital and covered us up with a blanket, and let us sleep."

"The next morning, her mom walks into the room, and asked if I was Steven… I said yes, and told Alexandria that I had to leave, so I left the house and headed to Jordon's house and took a shower."

"Later that same day, Alexandria calls and asks if I wanted to go with her and her mom to the mall, to shop and hangout… Of course, I said yes. I left the mall with a brand new pair of Nikes and eleven Nike outfits," KRAZED said, grinning.

"So her mom hooked you up…" I said.

"Dude, her mom loved me," KRAZED said, laughing.

"For the life of me, I cannot understand how any woman could love you… What about her dad? What did he think about you dating and fucking his daughter?" I asked.

"I only met her dad once, the two years that we dated, which was on Christmas when they invited me over, and handed me eight presents," KRAZED said.

"You guys dated up to the middle of 8th grade… What happened?" I asked.

"I was stupid… This new chick—Krisha—moved from Kansas City, and enrolled into my school. She was hot, but not as hot as Alexandria; however, Krisha did have this charm about her…very outgoing, you know? Anyways, story short, I ended up fucking Krisha and Alexandria found out, breaking up with me," KRAZED said.

"One of the dumbest decisions of my life, by far… Three weeks later, God kicked me in the nuts, again, and we lost our house…again. My mom went and stayed with some fling, leaving me to fend for myself," KRAZED said.

"Once in a while I stayed at Jordon's house, but I hate being a bother, and I hate having to rely on other people, so I slept in an abandon house a few blocks from Jordon's house, without him knowing it…"

"Jordon never knew you were homeless?" I asked.

"No…no one knew until years later, because I never told anyone. I did not want to be a bother; know what I mean?" KRAZED said.

"Every night, I would leave Jordon's house and go sleep on the floor of this pitch-dark, creepy ass house… I only had a backpack full of clothes, and that was it… I used the backpack as a pillow. Luckily, it was spring time, and I only had a few days left of school for the year, because I did not have a blanket, or any type of warmth."

"Unbeknownst to them, I used water from the neighbors hose to fill a bucket I had borrowed from Jordon… I used that water to wash my ass, brush my teeth, and wash my clothes," KRAZED said…

"RED, the clothing brand that launches this month, was inspired by the abandon house, correct?" I asked.

"Yes… Someone had spray-painted a red spade on the back door to the abandon house, which was the door I used to enter the house. The spade was a conventional spade, but I tweaked the design a bit for RED, using diamond etching for RED's Spade logo… I knew, someday, I'd build my business empire. That diamond spade represents, 'rags to riches—standout and shine'," KRAZED said.

A couple days later, Jordon's youngest brother was jumped by the same gang bangers that jumped KRAZED, as he went to leave the house in his car for work one night.

"Matt worked night shift, so he always left at midnight to head to work. One night, on a Thursday, those fuckers were waiting for him. As he went to get inside of his car, they jumped him, and beat him with a ball bat and crowbar, breaking six ribs, his right arm, and splitting his head. Matt received nineteen staples to his head at the hospital," KRAZED said.

"The next day, after school, Jordan is waiting on me… I get in the car, and he tells me about what had happened. He asked, 'are you riding [getting revenge]?'" KRAZED added.

"I said, 'of course I'm riding!' He replied, 'call up your Lions'," KRAZED continued.

"The next day, on a Saturday, I roll up to Jordan's with seven Lions when I see thirteen motorcycles in front of Jordan's house; plus two trucks. Jordan was not fucking around," KRAZED said, laughing.

"Twenty-three of us—mostly old, combat veterans—get in the back of both trucks and roll up in the bastard's neighborhood. They were sitting on the street corner, decked out in blue, and their pants hanging to their knees. There were at-least a dozen. We all jump out and they scatter… I chased their shot-caller up the street as he ran for his crib. As he is about to enter his backyard, I grab his shirt, swinging and slamming him to the ground. Before he could get back up, Jordan runs full speed, Charlie Brown kicking the son of a bitch in the head with steel-toe boots."

"It was the nastiest sound I have ever heard… Four of the poor bastard's front teeth flew from his mouth… He is sprawled out on his chest and stomach, as both arms stretch straight out in front of him, as his feet stretch straight out twitching, doing the fucking 'Superman' on the pavement… The bastard was knocked out cold, and his nerves took over."

"His whole family runs out, shit-talking, trying to get to their 'Superman'," KRAZED said.

"They didn't try fighting you guys?" I asked.

"What were they going to do? Come out and do the 'Superman', too? Besides, Jordan's brother lifted his shirt, revealing his Glock that tucked inside of his front jeans," KRAZED said, smiling.

"What happened next?" I asked.

"We went back to Jordan's house, had a barbeque, got drunk and got fucked...by pussy… You know…we won—we were victorious—so it was time to celebrate, like Lions," KRAZED said, nonchalantly.

"From there?" I asked.

"The next night I went back and slept in my hotel…the RED Spade Hotel [abandon house]," KRAZED said, laughing.

"That night, I said a little prayer—the first prayer I had ever prayed for… I said, 'if there is a god up there, get me the fuck out of here—out of this life; I'm done…I give up…'", KRAZED said.

"Did it work?" I asked…

"God...or something…has a since of humor… The next night, I was sleeping in the pitch-black, spooky ass house, when I hear something fall over…loudly…I jump up, and I see this bright, ball of light ten-feet in front of me, lighting up the house, right?" KRAZED asked.

"It just hovered there, but I was so scared that I literally pissed myself…a huge puddle formed under my ass, and between my legs. I cannot fully describe the experience, but as a little fucker, it scared the shit out of me," KRAZED said, laughing.

"KRAZED…the man that fears no one…pissed himself?" I asked, laughing.

"Dude, I was a little fucker, in a spooky abandon house, with an alien orb—or whatever the fuck it was—floating in front of me!" KRAZED said, laughing.

KRAZED illustrated, just for this article, what he had seen in the abandon house that night.

"Two days later, my aunt and uncle come looking for me, and offer me to come stay with them… I got out of gangs, the neighborhood, the violence, and I started high school the following year," KRAZED said.

According to KRAZED, high school was some of the weirdest and best times of his life, and for good reasons…

"When I got in high school, I sort of brought my street life with me, corrupting some of the kids, you know?" KRAZED said, laughing.

"Every night the 'Four Horsemen' would throw massive parties, every weekend. I mean, our parties were nut to ass, filled with young adults, high schoolers, and college students who came miles just to party at one of our parties," KRAZED said, with a grin.

According to everyone that knew KRAZED in high school, the fucker was a "male slut", and a "drunk".

"Every morning, the principle would stand at the door, waiting on me to arrive, because I carried orange juice, mixed with vodka… I had a special recipe to where you could not smell the vodka in the orange juice…I learned it from Jordan and my biker buddies. The principle, every morning, took my orange juice to sniff it for liquor. He never caught me, either," KRAZED said, laughing.

"Would you like to tell your Krazees how many classes you had in high school?" I asked, laughing…

"My high school counselor was my 8th grade math teacher, who followed me to my high school; for some odd reason, she was the only teacher who liked me, but of course, she was young and beautiful—still fresh out of college—and the only teacher that understood me and my mentality. I only had three classes my senior year in high school, which were weight lifting, gym, and weightlifting," KRAZED said, laughing hysterically.

"Pretty much, I would go to school long enough to work out, and then I would either leave, or go play with pussy. No one in high school had so few classes; everyone else had a full day of high school. Mine lasted for three hours, in the morning," KRAZED said, laughing.

"What did you do while everyone else was at school, besides play with pussy?" I asked.

"I worked… On Fridays, though, I prepared for our weekly parties," KRAZED said.

"Tell everyone about your parties and life in high school," I said.

"I can't even remember my time in the Marines, let alone high school," KRAZED said, laughing…

"I was too stoned or too drunk for most of it," KRAZED said, laughing…

"I remember junior year in high school, when we hazed the shit out of the sophomore football players… I remember when we tried tackling a few of the linemen, and stripping them down butt naked so we could duct tape their asses to the goal posts. We got three of them stripped down naked, but they all got away… Fucking linemen running across school's parking lot and down the street naked, trying to get away from the juniors and seniors. Great times."

"You see, when I was in high school, streaking [running naked] was our entertainment. I remember at one of our parties, some of us football players stripped butt-ass-naked, except our shoes, and we ran several blocks, as old ladies and neighbors stood on their porches whistling and cheering. I mean, our neighbors already knew how we were—we threw a party every weekend—so they just let us be kids, you know? We had this old lady—a neighbor—ask us one day if we planned on streaking again… She was married, and had grandkids… I don't know why she wanted to know, but she smiled and laughed when she asked us," KRAZED said.

"She hadn't seen anything like that in years," I said, laughing.

"Apparently not," KRAZED said, laughing.

"I never dated through high school, though… Hell, I was with a different girl every week; including chicks from different schools, and different cities. I fucked three girls on our football field, behind the bleachers, after three football games…if that is interesting… One girl in the girl's locker room, during school. One girl in her car, during school on lunch… Got a blowjob and fingered another chick in the boy's bathroom, before school started," KRAZED said.

"I remember being in the girl's bathroom, watching a dozen girls take turns piercing their nipples with a fucking sewing needle. Fascinating shit," KRAZED said, laughing.

"The parties, of course, were always off the hook…" KRAZED said.

"I remember one particular party, after our city's Mardi Gras, when we brought back a group of females…some college students, and some much older. Before the party, I earned a shit ton of beads, right?" KRAZED said.

"Beads? I am scared to ask this…but how does a male earn beads during Mardi Gras?" I asked, nervously.

"I flashed my dick…" KRAZED said, laughing.

"They asked, and I provided, so long as they provided the beads," KRAZED said, laughing hysterically.

"Somewhere I have the pictures of all the chicks… I took a selfie with every single girl that gave me beads, and every single girl I gave beads to, after they showed me their tits or pussy," KRAZED said, laughing.

KRAZED, during this interview, found the pictures and showed them to me; however, out of respect and privacy to the young hotties, we will not show them here… If you are one of the girls in those pictures, from that night, and you want us to reveal your naughty pictures, let us know. If you want a little privacy, blackout your faces, or we can do it for you, if you tell us to.

"So…how many beads did you earn that night?" I asked, laughing.

"We 'Four Horsemen' had a bet that night to see who could get the most beads. When we got back to the party-house, we each counted our beads. I earned 171, coming in second place." KRAZED said.

"What happened after Mardi Gras?" I asked.

"Well…like I said…strange chicks from Mardi Gras joined our after party… This one hot chick…college student from UMKC in Kansas City…showed up, right? Anyways, she said that she would strip, and give every single guy at that party a lap dance, if we provided her with purple beads… Of course, not one single fucker at that party had purple beads… Of all those beads we earned that night, not one purple bead necklace. So all of us guys are running around, calling everyone that we knew, trying to find purple beads… No luck…" KRAZED said.

"Five hours later, after we're all passed out and she's gone, one of our girlfriends from school—someone we forgot to call—walks in wearing purple beads…" KRAZED said.

"No lap dances then, I take it?" I asked.

"No…no lap dances that night," KRAZED said, laughing.

"You ended up running into Alexandria, again, during one of your parties… Would you like to share that?" I asked.

"Ya…she showed up at one of our parties, and I ended up staying the night at her house…" KRAZED said.

"Did you fuck her?" I asked, laughing.

"That's a stupid question," KRAZED said, laughing.

"For several months afterwards, we hooked up every weekend, until I met my wife," KRAZED said.

"What happened then?" I asked.

"God has a sense of humor," KRAZED said, laughing…

"My wife went to the same school, and in the same grade, but for some reason, we never talked or hung out, you know? One Friday a Krazee decided to throw a party, so we 'Four Horsemen' to decided to go to our Krazee's party, instead of throwing one of our own…" KRAZED added.

"Well, I'm standing there with Alexandria and another girl when my wife walks up to me and say's 'hi' as she falls to the floor at my feet. She was drunk, so I said to her friends, 'get this girl home, she's drunk.' That was the first time I spoke to my wife in the four years we spent together in high school."

"So you knew who she was, but you guys never talked?" I asked.

"Ya, I knew who she was, I just never talked to her, you know?" KRAZED said.

"Like I said, I only had three classes, so I was hardly ever at school; whereas she had college classes and all that bullshit, smarty-smart classes I could never understand, so she was very involved in school, and was never at one of our parties. My wife graduated at the top ten of our class; I was like 35th, or some shit, among our class," KRAZED said, laughing.

"My junior year? Ya, I think it was my junior in high school… Anyways, I had my wife in Spanish class, but I never talked to her… I mean, all I did was draw or sleep in that class, anyways, because to me, Spanish was boring as shit," KRAZED said, laughing.

"Your dad's side is Hispanic, but you find Spanish boring?" I asked, laughing.

"Ya…I never learned how to speak Spanish… My grandma was the only one who spoke Spanish; in fact, she spoke Spanish better than she did English, but once she moved to America, legally, she did not teach her children or grandchildren how to speak Spanish. Now that she lived in America, she believed that her family and children had to speak the native language," KRAZED said.

"In Spanish class, we got to pick out a Spanish name for the class from a list of Spanish names, right? I saw 'Pepe' on the list, and chose that name because I thought it was pronounced pee-pee," KRAZED added, laughing.

"That poor old woman used to get very frustrated with me… This one time, we had to translate these English sentences into Spanish, right? Well, we also had to go up in front of the class, and read them off… Fuck, I had zero clue what the fuck was going on in that class, especially beings it was Spanish," KRAZED said.

"My sentence was like this—'El gato ran up the tree,'" KRAZED said, laughing.

"You know, our Spanish teacher was from Brazil, right? So she had the accent, fiery attitude, and everything. She said, 'Pepe, you cannot use Spanish and English together—they would think you were loco!" KRAZED said, laughing.

"A few years after graduating, my wife said, 'I always thought you were a special kid…'" KRAZED said, laughing.

"I said, 'what are you talking about, princess? I was the fucking cool kid!'" KRAZED said, smiling.

"She then said, 'in your head you were the cool kid, but to me, I thought you were a special kid—the type that rides short buses. Every Spanish class I would see Pepe walk into class with a boner, and that was it—no homework; no textbook; no pencil; no paper. Once you sat down, you had to ask all of your friends for a piece of paper and pencil, and then you would sleep or draw. I always thought, 'Pepe is weird'. You were in high school and already covered in tattoos,'" KRAZED said, laughing.

"What did you say to your wife when she told you that?" I asked, laughing.

"I said, 'and then you got addicted to the cock, and haven't been able to break the habit, yet" KRAZED said, laughing.

"How did you ever graduate?" I asked KRAZED, laughing.

"I don't know, man—but a few weeks before graduating high school, we 'Four Horsemen' threw a massive graduation party and my wife showed up with a group of her friends. You see, I knew all of her friends very, very well…for obvious reasons...but I never talked to her. Anyways, she walks over with some friends and tries to talk to me, again, as I sold liquor. I don't remember what she said, but my first words to her were, 'I'm fucking you tonight…'" KRAZED said, laughing.

"You're such a charming motherfucker… Did you fuck her?" I asked, laughing.

"I don't want to put too much information on here about my wife...but…ya…I fucked her that same night," KRAZED said, laughing.

"Before that, though, during the same party, some street-fuckers from a different city show up at the party, running their mouths, starting shit, right? Well, we had a rule at our parties…no fighting. They start throwing beer bottles at a few of my Krazees, so we Four Horsemen run up with ball bats. I blast one in the mouth, breaking his front teeth. Those poor bastards get jumped by like twenty Krazees at the party, but that is the end result of showing up at a party, throwing beer bottles at people you do not know," KRAZED said, smiling.

"One of the chicks I went to school with, brought those fuckers to the party, and the one I blasted in the face, was her boyfriend. Of course, she is pissed the next day at school. She's standing there, in class, running her mouth, cussing me up and down for about five minutes while I ignore her and not saying a fucking thing, as a female teacher stands there and watches," KRAZED said.

"I don't remember what she said, but whatever it was, it pissed me off, right? So I pick up this chair and launch it towards her. It hits the wall two feet away from her, and she yells out, 'you almost hit me with the fucking chair!' I said, 'female, if I wanted to hit you with that chair, I would have hit you'," KRAZED continued.

"Of course, the female teacher jumps on my ass, yelling at me, so I said, 'shut the fuck up, bitch,' as I walked out of the class. Two weeks later, supposedly, her boyfriend that I hit with the ball bat was coming up from Chicago with a crew on this certain day. Before I got home from school that day, my street and front yard were filled with Krazees, waiting on their punk asses to show up," KRAZED added.

"Did they ever show up?" I asked.

"No…" KRAZED said.

"Now you're dating your high school sweet heart—soon to be your wife—so what happened to Alexandria?" I asked.

"Those several weekends that I was fucking her, right? She had a boyfriend the entire time… I played the game with her, but it was never anything serious, you know? Just a quick, good fuck—you know? Teens being teens... She went to medical school and became an Obstetrician-Gynecologist. The last time I saw her out, and talked to her, she was married and had a daughter," KRAZED said.

"Care to share your story on King Hill," I asked.

[KRAZED LAUGHS]

"Ya…so…a few days before we graduated high school, my wife and I were sitting in the car one night, eating Sonic cheeseburgers, right? King Hill is massive-tall; so tall that you can see the Missouri River, and into Kansas miles away," KRAZED said.

"So…we're sitting there, and all of a sudden, this orb…or ball of plasma…floats down from the sky, right in front of our car, hovering above the city, at eye-level with us. This…plasma ball…it was massive in size, about the size of a school bus in both height and width, right? It was semi-translucent, meaning we could see through it, somewhat; however, it morphed and moved like water in outer space, while constantly changing colors—red, green, blue, orange and yellow…" KRAZED said, intently.

"It was the same fucking thing I saw in the abandon house, except this time, it was about the size of a school bus; whereas, in the abandon house, it appeared the size of a basketball," KRAZED said.

KRAZED illustrated the image of the plasma ball, in the exact same spot they saw the object—King Hill, overlooking Saint Joseph, Missouri. In the background, at a distance, you can see the Missouri River, and the state of Kansas.

Upclose, and in detail.

"My wife and I get out of the car, and walk to the edge of the hill, saying to each other, 'what the hell is that thing?'" KRAZED continued.

"The fire ball hovered fifty-feet in front of us for about five minutes, as we gazed in wonder. After a few minutes, the fucking thing shot off really fast towards the moon, disappearing…" KRAZED added.

KRAZED eventually saw the same orb three days after his release from the Marines, once he was back home with his wife.

"After that, the weird shit started happening…the intense, repetitive dreams…they came true, all the time… I could see the fucking future in my head…shit that you weren't supposed to see, or know…" KRAZED said, intently.

"A few days later, my wife and I graduated high school, but the dreams persisted… Anyways, right out of high school, I had a job waiting on me. I started working as an ironworker, while she went to medical school to become a pharmacist… I was making good money, as I traveled the states to build various types of metal and concrete buildings until I got offered a job as a steel worker, making even more money, plus bonus checks each month," KRAZED said.

"I was a steel fabricator, making steel cable for the federal government—National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration; the US Navy, plus oil companies, etc. By far my favorite job outside of being an entrepreneur… It was all males—and the majorities were former military," KRAZED continued.

"At that time, I was 21-years-of-age, driving a Mustang… Honestly, I had more money than I knew what to do with; basically, I was a young, dumb fucker with more money than sense," KRAZED added.

"Nevertheless, no matter how much I tried to ignore it, the dreams and images persisted… I told my girlfriend—my wife—that we were going to have a daughter first, and then a son. She asked how I knew that, and I said the dreams," KRAZED said.

"Honestly, I thought I was going crazy… I knew our children's names already, but I wanted to test the dreams, you know?" KRAZED added.

"KRAZED…KRAZED…KRAZED…the name was repetitive in the dreams… I always called my friends 'Krazee', you know? But I had no idea what the hell 'KRAZED' meant…especially in the dreams," KRAZED continued.

"I just kept ignoring the dreams…trying to be fucking normal, if that was ever possible," KRAZED said.

"And then, God came down and kicked me in the fucking nuts, again…" KRAZED added.

"For several years I worked as a steelworker, until 2008, when I got laid off. It was a few months after the economic meltdown… Lo and behold, a few days after I got laid off, my girlfriend [soon to be wife] finds out she is pregnant…" KRAZED continues.

"It was a fucking mess…a fucking nightmare...because I was laid off, my girlfriend is pregnant, going to and paying for college, while working part time at a pharmacy; plus, I had bills to pay."

"I tried going back to my former job as an ironworker, but they, too, closed up shop and went out of business a year before I was laid off."

"A few weeks after getting laid off, the state called, asking if I needed a job. I knew someone that worked at the prison—probation and parole—and they apparently put the word in. Of course, I said yes. Three days later, I got the job and went through several weeks of firearms and self defense training with police, sheriffs, deputies, and state law enforcement."

"The following week, I enrolled into college, taking classes and then going to work during my night shifts. I was looking to put my life back on track," KRAZED said.

"Before I finished my training, the E-squad Captain [prison riot team, and gang-task force unit] informed me that he knew about my past…he knew I was once heavily involved in gangs… I thought I was going to get fired right then and there, but instead, he offered me another job. I accepted."

"I was to help identify gangs and gang members within the prison system," KRAZED added.

"The job was a fucking piece of cake, too, because I talked like them; thought like them, walked like them, and I looked like them—covered in tattoos. I was practically one of them. I saw many, many people I knew in there from the streets, too, and they remembered me as well," KRAZED said.

"To this day, I see former inmates out in public, and they come up to me like we're kicking it on the block…bullshitting and laughing. It's a connection that I don't think will ever go away. The streets and the military are the only people I understand and relate to. As you know, Titus—that fighting lifestyle always drags me back, no matter how much I try to hide and run from it—like a fucking curse. I get away, get my life straightened out, and boom, I am right back with the same type of people…" KRAZED said.

"Like those girls that attract assholes?" I asked, laughing.

[KRAZED LAUGHS]

"Take your ass for example! We were always in trouble together in the Marines, and yet, we're working together, building brands and businesses. How many Marines and former military are on the team now? A couple thousand? I just cannot get away from you cursed fucks," KRAZED said, laughing.

"Why, God—why can I not have a normal life, relating to normal people? Instead, I am a fucking misfit among misfits who the world has tried to kill, but can't," KRAZED said.

"Inside the prison, I talked to them like I talk to everyone from the street; it's just me, you know? I don't understand the concept of 'professionalism'," KRAZED said, laughing.

"Just like on the streets, I spent my work time with the thugs, doing thug shit… We often had push up and arm wrestling contests, which was a big fucking no-no, because the inmates could catch another case—seven year minimum for touching anyone that worked in the prison. I would bullshit with them, and we even shared our girl's nuddy pics. Since high school, I always took a picture of the girl that I fucked, right—so I had this old cell phone full of nudy pictures that I would share with the inmates, and they would share the pictures they received from their girls or wives...guy shit, right?"

"Well, anyways, one day we got this fucker that was serving time for slicing his girl's throat, right? He was a fucking hot-head with a big mouth, right? I can't remember what it was, but I told him to do something, and he says to me, 'fuck you—I'll beat your punk ass, bitch'".

"I shot back, saying, 'you obviously don't know who the fuck you're talking to.'"

"He gets in my face, and says, 'I'd beat your bitch ass if you ever walked into my hood, nigga…I'd fucking kill you'," KRAZED said.

"At this point, I was so pissed that I was shaking—I wanted to drop him right there, but Uncle Sam has these rules…fucking rules, man. I told the fucker, 'look around you dumb motherfucker—I am in your hood; you live here, and I am disrespecting the shit out of you! Everyone in here knows you're a punk ass bitch, and all talk. You're trying to talk shit and act tough, because deep down, you're scared shitless, because you think one of these motherfuckers are going to rape your shithole. I tell you what, I will take off this radio, set it here, and turn it off… Come on, tough guy—beat my ass; kill me…" KRAZED said.

"Did he swing?" I asked.

"No…he walked into his bunkroom, and two hours later, after they had dinner, I get called into the Captain's office, and got written up for 'threatening an inmate'. That punk ass bitch snitched on me," KRAZED said, laughing.

"However, the next day, that dipshit has a fat lip and two black eyes when I walk into the wing… I asked him what had happened, and he tells me that he fell off the bunk bed [KRAZED LAUGHS]. A few minutes after I take my shift, four inmates walked up to me, and said, 'we took care of the problem, Homie—he won't be a problem anymore.'"

"I discreetly displayed the 'Street Salute' at them; they nodded, and walked off. You fuckers call it the 'devil sign' or 'devil hand gesture'…or some shit…but on the streets, where I am from, it meant 'thanks', or 'right on.'" KRAZED said.

"An hour later, I get called into the Captain's office, again. Several state caseworkers were waiting on me…fucking Uncle Sam's goons, right?" KRAZED added.

"They said, 'an inmate in your wing is pretty messed up…he received a concussion, along with six staples to the head, two black eyes, and a fat lip.'"

"I said, 'ya, I saw that..'"

"They said, 'you were written up yesterday by your Captain for threatening this particular inmate.'"

"I said, 'he pussified out after threatening me, and then came down crying because he was put in his place.'"

"Trying to play mind games, and frame me, they said, 'you just admitted that you threatened the inmate…'"

"I shot back, and said, 'I admitted to that the minute I signed the disciplinary papers from the Captain. That fucker received those black eyes during the morning shift, when I was off work, and you know it. The idiot told me he fell from his bunk.'"

"They shot back, saying, 'we don't believe his story, or your story.'"

"I told'em, 'that sounds like a personal problem,'" KRAZED said, grinning.

"Soon after, your daughter is born, correct?" I asked KRAZED.

KRAZED's daughter left the hospital on Easter. KRAZED also "left" the Marines on Easter.

"Ya, man…. Ummm… Remember that dream, right? How I knew my daughter would be born first, and then my son? The dream was correct—I had a daughter first. Anyways, I wanted to test the dream even more, right? So…I let my wife choose our daughter's name, without telling my wife about the dream…about our daughter's name within the dream... Sure enough, my wife names our daughter 'Karmen Marie'… Fucking dead on… I get goosebumps every time I tell the story," KRAZED said.

"I already know the answer to this question, beings I read your upcoming web novel, Maleficus, which you will share with our Krazees for free… Anyways, for our readers, can you prove any of this…I mean, can you prove that you knew your daughter's name before your wife chose the name?" I asked.

"Damn straight I can… I actually wrote Maleficus a few months after seeing…whatever that thing was…on King Hill. The book is dated, and I still have the original Microsoft Word files, which are dated, as well. I knew my daughter's name six-years before she was born… Maleficus is…basically…part of the repetitive dream that I have…" KRAZED said.

"To clear this up…MALEFICUS…the graphic novel...is mostly fictional, correct?" I asked KRAZED.

"Yes, the graphic novel itself is fictional, as I have added and taken away some aspects, just to make Maleficus more entertaining and interesting. However, some of the content comes from the dream. A lot of it has already come true, and continues to come true… You, the other Marines, along with the world, religious, and military leaders that I have worked with over the years can attest to that bold statement," KRAZED said.

"Of course, the 'SIN virus' is fictional, and added for entertainment purposes…but the 'Sinners' represent actual society…the collapse of society—what you see happening right now in the world. 'Sinners' represent the future religious war that is developing in Europe right now…" KRAZED added.

"In 2020, you will see the beginning of Maleficus in Europe," KRAZED continued.

"A few months after your daughter is born, you and your wife drive through a tornado, correct?" I asked KRAZED.

"Ya, we were riding in my Mustang, coming from a movie, when everything went to hell. Tornado sirens started going off, and shit was flying through the sky; plus the roof of the post office flew right in front of my Mustang; and a block down the road, we saw a house fly off of its foundation," KRAZED said, laughing.

"We could not see five-feet in front of us as rain and debris flew sideways. Outside, it sounded like a freight train roared past us. The noise was so deafening, that my wife and I could not hear each other talk. I was in the driver seat, and she sat in the passenger seat. My wife was scared shitless, but I honestly thought it was one of the coolest things I have ever experienced," KRAZED continued, smiling.

"The craziest thing about the whole situation—while debris and roofs flew off houses and buildings—right in front and behind us—not one scratch was left on the Mustang; nothing hit my car," KRAZED said, grinning.

"Do you believe in Gods now?" I asked KRAZED.

"Do I have to answer that?" KRAZED asked, laughing.

"No," I replied back.

"Kill," KRAZED said.

"So you worked eight months at the prison, and one day decided to quit college, quit your job, and enlist in the Marines. Why?" I asked KRAZED.

"I got fucking bored, man…I missed my old job as a steelworker, because there, I was constantly working, doing physical labor… I am not one that can sit around, doing absolutely nothing. Yes, the prison had its spontaneous moments of action, but outside of that, it was fucking boring; plus, I hated college—it was boring as shit, too," KRAZED said.

"I am an adrenaline junky—as you know; I love risk; I love to fight; I love challenges and physical work, which is the reason I hated school so much," KRAZED said.

"So pretty much you have ADHD, and a mental disorder," I said, laughing.

"Pretty much," KRAZED said, laughing.

"When you enlisted, it was a surprise to everyone, correct?" I asked KRAZED.

"Correct; I did not tell anyone. In fact, one of the 'Four Horsemen' actually enlisted with me, as 'battle buddies', without anyone knowing, including his family… His dad was former Navy, so it wasn't too much of a surpise for his family when they found out," KRAZED said.

"When your wife found out she was pissed, correct?" I asked KRAZED.

"Fucking heated, man… I was taking damn near $30,000 in pay cut to enlist in the Marines; plus the fact I was leaving her and my daughter, while she went through medical school, working part time, struggling to pay bills. Our money was tight, man—and enlisting just made things worse," KRAZED said.

"Let's fast forward to bootcamp… KRAZED, tell our fellow Krazees what happens next," I said.

Pay close attention, young bloods—those thinking about joining the military.

"Well, first of all, when everyone found out I had enlisted, especially Jordan, they all said the same thing, 'what the fuck you were thinking? Why would you enlist?'"

"I had two Marines, and Jordan, a former Soldier, tell me that I fucked up, and I should not have enlisted. Jordan told me that it was not too late to back out; saying I should stay put as a civilian in college. My college professor, who was a former deputy with the sheriff's department, told me to back out, and stay in school, as well."

"When I enlisted, the recruiters begged and pleaded that I enlist as an MP [Marines Military Police], because I was going to college for Criminal Justice to become Probation and Parole, and I had law enforcement training and experience; plus, I actually worked inside of a prison... I refused, because I hated the job—I hated law enforcement; go figure. I told them, the only way I enlist is if I get an 0311 [Marine Infantry, Rifleman] MOS; in addition, I would only enlist if my daughter was covered through TRICARE [military Insurance]…. I wanted to follow my grandpa's path, and become infantry. They said fine—no problem."

"So, me and my fellow 'Horseman' leave on the same night for boot-camp as 'battle buddies,' right?"

Before we continue on with KRAZED's story, let me tell you how it works the moment you get to Marine Corps Recruit Depot [MCRD] in San Diego, California…to step on the infamous yellow footprints, like all Marine recruits before you. First of all, this is strictly for Hollywood Marines—those that go through boot-camp in San Diego. There is another boot-camp in Paris Island—for those Marine that live on the eastside of the Mississippi River. KRAZED and I, and all of our Marine buddies, are Hollywood Marines, so this article is strictly based on our experiences in San Diego and Camp Pendleton, California.

While you are on the bus, a Marine Drill Instructor will greet you, screaming something like, "you have just taken the first step toward becoming a member of the world's finest fighting force—the United States Marine Corps—now get the fuck off my bus."

Blah…blah…blah…it's all horse shit, and you will understand once you finally finish boot-camp, become a Marine, and actually get into your MOS in the fleet… Remember, the military is no different from the civilian world. There are shitty Marines, and there are great Marines.

When you get off the bus, and step onto the yellow footprints, you are greeted with screaming DIs [Drill Instructors]… This is the point in your life where you are kicking yourself in the ass, wondering what the fuck you got yourself into. Yes, later, you will get back home from boot-camp to find out your girlfriend fucked your best-friend, your family stayed the same, and old high school friends became druggies, working dead end jobs that they hate. Trust me, you will not miss a damn thing while you are in boot-camp, and yes, your girl will cheat on you, guaranteed. If you are going to enlist, go in single.

Remember, young bloods—DIs are merely screaming comedians. You will understand once you get into boot-camp, and doing the famous "look right—now look left—look up—now look down" bullshit.

Remember, do as you are told, and scream as loud as you possibly can, and you will survive boot-camp. Do not get nervous; do not get intimidated. You will have 13-weeks of hell in boot-camp, and then you become a Marine. Honestly, it does not get better, even when you are a Marine in the fleet…in fact, it gets worse...

After the yellow footprints, you will walk through two large doors, officially becoming a Marine recruit. From there, they will shave your head, and you will then enter a room where you will hand over all of your belongings. After doing that, you will drink a shit ton of water… The DI that I had, made us drink four canteens of water. Two kids pissed themselves running to the bathroom, and one flopped his dick out and pissed on the floor, as three DIs screamed in his face.

They make you drink water until you cannot drink anymore, because they are trying to dilute your piss, for the piss-test that you are about to take, to ensure drugs do not show up. Trust me, they will not find drugs in your piss…even if they do find drugs in your piss… Marine Corps will ensure of it.

After that, you will join your company. KRAZED and I were in Bravo Company in boot, for any Marines reading this article.

"When I got there, my paperwork was all types of fucked up… My MOS was wrong…they had me enlisted as an MP [military police] instead of infantry, and my daughter was not on my military insurance," KRAZED said.

"The civilian chick doing the paperwork told me, 'your recruiter lied to you; you cannot have your daughter on your insurance without being married to your daughter's mother, and you cannot join infantry because the Marine Corps is not accepting more infantrymen until next cycle,'" KRAZED said.

Yes, young bloods—you will find out that most jobs in the Marines are done by civilians—people that have never served a day in their life. Once you get into the Marines, you find out that civilians serve and cook your food—civilians that cannot speak a bit of English, because their native language is Spanish… You will find out that on American Marine Corps bases, civilian police patrol and guard your ass—not Marine MPs.

That is right, young blood—you, as a Marine, are not allowed to carry a rifle or any firearm while on base, unless you are training, because out of shape, untrained, civilian police have that right—not you. Thank Bill Clinton for that.

You are not a killer until the Corps decides you are a killer. Until then, you will, literally, sweep rocks and rake sand, and clean showers and toilets, which is about ninety-percent of the time, no matter your MOS. Oh, I forgot…most of the time, especially for POGs [People Other Than Grunts—non infantry], you will not work your MOS, because you will end up doing bitch work… In addition, you will find yourself doing someone else's job because they cannot do it themselves, or they got kicked out of the Corps.

"I told that chick, 'either you get my MOS changed to 0311, or I'm walking the hell out of here, on the earliest flight to KCI [Kansas City International Airport]," KRAZED said.

Young bloods, do not let your recruiter lie to you; you are not in the Marine Corps until you sign those enlistment papers at MCRD. Any time before that, you are free to leave or drop out…

"She had me sit at this table for about thirty minutes, while she left the room. After that, she came back with papers, stating I was an 0311," KRAZED said, laughing.

"I was still fucked on the insurance for my daughter, but I could easily get married and fix the problem. After all, at that point, my wife and I were together for six-years," KRAZED said.

"You were 24-years-old when you enlisted, correct?" I asked KRAZED.

"Ya…I was the same age or older than all of our DIs; plus, I had already had more firearms and self defense training than our DIs, beings they were all POGs," KRAZED replied, laughing.

"What happened next?" I asked.

"God has a sense of humor… I was stuck in the same company as you," KRAZED said, laughing.

"Beings my paperwork got all fucked up, my buddy and I did not get in the same platoon as 'Battle Buddies'," KRAZED added.

KRAZED and I ended up bunk-buddies in boot-camp, and honestly, he was the only reason I made it through. I had a rough time adjusting, and I missed my girlfriend, and friends a lot.

KRAZED, on the other hand, breezed through it. His prior training and his experience on the streets and in the prison had already turned him into a hard ass. If you have met KRAZED, you would understand this statement—KRAZED is an unemotional, quiet, misunderstood dick head. I cannot put it any blunter than that. The guy is very stern, serious, straight forward, and brutally honest. I hardly ever see him smile, or show any emotions, whatsoever. He's straight to the point, and that is all of the conversation you are getting out of him.

When KRAZED is around other people in the same room, he will stand, rather than sit, at the back of the room, so that he can see and observe everyone. When someone walks up behind him in line, he will adjust his body and turn sideways so that he can see the people in front and behind him. The fucker is always packing a handgun, too, along with a carbine in his truck.

He will tell you that he does not trust anyone, and instead of listening to what you are saying, he watches your body language. He often told me, "before you even say a word, I already know your personality and attitude, just by watching your body language, because words lie, but body language never lies."

"We were at a party with my wife's co-workers, and within two minutes of walking into the house, I leaned over and told my wife that her boss' wife was cheating on him. She did not believe it, but three weeks later, her boss finds out that his wife was having an affair for several years. It's a gift…something I picked up from the streets," KRAZED said, smiling.

I got a letter from several buddies while I was in boot-camp, informing that my girlfriend had cheated on me. I was among thirteen other recruits who received the same type of letters, but it hit me hard…real hard. I wrote my girlfriend, asking her about the accusations. She never wrote me back, and that was the last time I ever spoke to her.

Apparently, KRAZED could tell something was wrong because he leaned over his bunk [he slept on top], and asked, "what's wrong, fucker?"

I told him the story, about my girlfriend cheating, and he smiled and said, "so…what's the bad news?"

I did not get time to reply to his question, because he rolled right over and went back to writing a letter.

Three weeks later, we received mail… Well, in boot-camp, you can have friends and relatives send you power [protein] bars… They were the only sweets that we got in boot-camp, so everyone fought over those things—begging for a power bar—like they were gold bars; thus, we were forced to share the rest with our platoon.

Every mail shipment, KRAZED received power bars from his girlfriend, along with Jordan and other friends. On this particular mail shipment, he tucked three power bars under his nuts—to hide them from the DIs—between his legs until he and I got back to our bunks.

"How did my balls taste?" KRAZED asked, laughing, during this interview.

At our bunks, when the lights went out, KRAZED pulled the power bars from his sweat pants, and hands them to me.

"Here, eat these before 'Fire Watch' catches you," KRAZED whispered to me.

"Here, fucker—write this chick… Don't say I never did anything for you," KRAZED whispered, as he handed me a letter and a naughty picture from a girl he knew back home.

"Who's this chick?" I asked.

"She's a Krazee—cool as fuck, and just split with her boy. She's interested," KRAZED said.

If KRAZED wasn't talking about women and partying, he was talking about fighting and firearms.

Not once did I see KRAZED get blasted or screamed at by a drill instructor, either. KRAZED knew his shit, especially when it came to the M16. He would have his stripped, clean, put together, and over helping me finish cleaning my rifle.

Before joining the Marines, I had never handled an AR-15 platform, or any firearm, let alone the M16 platform. KRAZED, on the other hand, nutted in his pants every time we stripped and cleaned our rifles, and the entire time, he talked firearms…any and all firearms...and fighting zombies...and fighting aliens, if they invaded...

On Sunday's we had free time to either go to church, or stay back at the barracks. KRAZED, he stayed back at the barracks, drawing while everyone else, including myself, attended church.

I asked KRAZED one time why he did not attend church, and being the blunt motherfucker that he is, said, "I do not kneel or bow to anyone, which includes gods, especially man-gods that think they are kings."

Thus, on Sundays, KRAZED stayed back at the barracks, drawing. One Sunday, however, his artwork caught the attention of Senior Drill Instructor—the head drill instructor. Lo and behold, KRAZED designed three tattoos for Senior Drill Instructor, along with various other artwork, such as a new logo for the platoon, artwork for tee shirts, etc. In return, as payment, KRAZED received three phone calls home, and got to stay inside the barracks drawing tattoos for the rest of the drill instructors, while we drilled and got killed in the sand.

In all honesty, I wanted to kick KRAZED in the nuts sometimes, especially when he smiled when the rest us sweaty, dirty fucks walked in from drill, while he was cool, dry and clean inside of the barracks…peacefully drawing.

According to Senior Drill Instructor and the rest of the Drill Instructors, KRAZED was the "artist" recruit, which gave him certain perks and privileges, which pretty much gave him immunity, because not one drill instructor ever blasted KRAZED, that I am aware of. Fucking asshole…

I'm not quite sure what started it, but Senior Drill Instructor started calling KRAZED, 'crazy', and 'crazed recruit'… Every time Senior wanted KRAZED, he would yell out, "where is crazy?! Where is my crazed recruit?!"

Every time, KRAZED would blurt out, "Sir, this crazed recruit is right here, Sir!"

"Get over here, crazy—the rest of you, get out of my fucking barracks!"

The rest of our platoon went outside to train and "sexy-walk" [drill], while KRAZED stayed behind and did whatever the fuck he did when the rest of us recruits were not present.

All of our drill instructors, including Senior, were Hispanic, just like KRAZED, and they were all the same age as KRAZED. In addition—let us not forget to mention—one of the drill instructor's former gang life in Los Angeles… Not only that, but I witnessed, with my own eyes, KRAZED and the drill instructors sharing and showing each other nudy pictures of their girlfriends and wives.

In the Marine Corps, it was against rules to have pornography material or pictures mailed to you from back home, but not one drill instructor said a damn word to KRAZED.

Every time I bring those facts up, KRAZED laughs it off, and says that I am just "jealous".

Fuck yes I was jealous! You received three phone calls home, while the rest of us recruits did not talk to our families until after boot-camp; and let us not forget the fact you were never blasted or yelled at.

Let us be real here—there is favoritism in the Corps, and any Marine or Solider who has ever served, would attest to that statement.

From that point on, Phillips was named KRAZED among the recruits and Marines.

Within weeks of entering boot-camp, our ranks of recruits dropped like flies. Many threatened suicide just to leave the Marine Corps; many more were medically discharged—one for having hemorrhoids…bleeding out his asshole. We had one Marine claim that he was queer, just to leave the Corps.

Ninty-percent of our platoon consisted of 'troubled' recruits—fuckers who were from the streets, gangs, in money and-or criminal trouble, without families, etc. We all joined the Corps, including myself, because we would either end up dead or in prison, if not.

Finally, it was time to become Marines…

We left MCRD in buses for Marine Corps Base Camp Pendleton, California, for our last, and final test before achieving our Eagle, Globe and Anchor emblems—becoming United States Marines.

We were headed for the Marine Corps' 'Crucible', an event that involved non-stop training, obstacle courses, and hiking, which involved a 9.7 mile hike, and the legendary 700-foot tall mountain dubbed the 'Reaper', which is part of the mountainous terrain of Edson Range.

Of course, not all Marines make it to the top of the Reaper; many will fail.

In preparation for our last, and final hike that involved the Reaper, we hiked 3-mile, 5-mile, 5.7-mile, and 8-mile hikes, carrying full combat-loads, including our rifles.

If you had to piss, you flopped your dick out while you hiked, pissing all over your boots and pants, because you could not stop for anything, or anyone.

Before the Reaper, we entered the gas chamber on February 2nd of that year—KRAZED's birthday.

Once you entered the gas chamber, you were forced to take off your gas mask, inhaling the tear gas that filled the tiny room. We were lined up against the wall, shoulder to shoulder—coughing and choking on tear gas that burnt our eyes, skin, and throats. Snot, saliva, and mucus ran from recruits' noses and mouths, as we all struggled to breathe. While we were all disoriented, panicked, and struggled for breath, we had to put the masks back onto our faces, and then repeat the process one last time.

Once we were out of the chamber, KRAZED said to me, laughing, "that was the worst fucking joint I have ever smoked, especially a birthday joint."

For the rest of the day, it felt like we had a sunburn, while the sun, heat, dirt and sweat irritated the burn.

Leaving at 2am in the morning, all of Bravo Company left for our last, and final hike…'the Reaper hike'.

Looking up at the Reaper, KRAZED leans over and says, sternly, "let's show these fucks how Lions conquer a mountain. You and I are going to be among the first up that hill, so keep up and stay on my ass."

Once at the Reaper, Bravo Company climbed the steep hill. KRAZED of course, climb right next to me, as we both scaled the massive hill.

By the time we were in the middle, it had looked like a bomb hit the middle of Bravo Company, as recruits crawled, refused to push on, and passed out along the mountain from overwhelming weight-load, heat, and dehydration.

I, myself, fell twice, but every time, KRAZED would stop and help me up. On my last fall, KRAZED and I witnessed a recruit passed out, as two Navy Corpsmen shoved the legendary 'silver bullet' up his ass—the Navy's rectal thermometer.

KRAZED yelled at me, as he tugged on my arm, "if you don't want a silver dildo shoved up your ass, get up off the ground!"

"Come on, fucker—keep pushing those legs! Look at your feet as you move; do not look back, and do not look up! You're 17-years-old—seven-years younger—so you should be running circles around me," KRAZED yelled, as we climbed the Reaper.

After what seemed like an eternity, KRAZED and I were the sixth and seventh recruit at the top of the Reaper…and we were the last platoon to climb.

Shortly afterwards, we received our EGAs [Eagle, Globe and Anchor], becoming United States Marines.

After graduating boot-camp, we all flew back home to our families. KRAZED's girlfriend and daughter met him in California to witness his graduation… Mine…well…I do not have much of a family, similar to KRAZED's situation, and of course, I no longer had a girlfriend after joining the Corps, either.

Back home, KRAZED was to marry his girlfriend. She came from a wealthy Christian farming family—having multiple contracts with Kraft Foods, and other major food companies—whereas KRAZED came from the streets, extremely poor, and homeless. They were like night and die—she believed in a god, and KRAZED despised gods, especially "man-gods", as KRAZED puts it…

KRAZED just wanted to get married at the court house and have a major party afterwards, but of course, his wife refused, because she wanted a traditional Christian wedding inside of a Christian church.

KRAZED gave in… Pussy Power, right?

KRAZED and his wife decided to have their wedding at her childhood church—the church she and her parents have attended since the eighties. However, the church's preacher refused to marry KRAZED and his wife, because "they had a child out of wedlock."

Now get this, the preacher's daughter was 16-years-of-age, living with her father—the preacher—after she dropped out of school, and had a baby with a guy that disowned her and the baby.

KRAZED's wife, of course, was upset, but KRAZED…well…he was KRAZED.

"Fuck him and his fake ass man-god!" KRAZED said to his wife.

KRAZED then reached out to his street-connections, contacting a former Green Beret that he knew… The Green Beret had left the Army, and became a Christian preacher.

The Green Beret married KRAZED and his wife inside of his wife's childhood Christian church, while Marines and his street-buddies filled the church to celebrate and witness the wedding.

"We purified the shit out of that church; heathens, bikers, slutty chicks, and trained killers danced in the house of Zeus," KRAZED said, laughing.

A few weeks after getting married, the church goers booted the preacher from the church, replacing him with a younger, Millennial preacher, after he refused to marry a Marine and his wife.

"What do you have against religion?" I asked KRAZED.

"I have nothing against religion… My wife was a Christian…and I say was after the marriage incident… My wife's parents and families are still Christians to this day, and every time they eat, they pray. I do not say a word, and let them believe what they want to believe, but I know what I saw on King Hill that night, with my own eyes… I know what I saw in that abandon house that night, and I know what I saw that night after getting out of the Marines… Whatever the fuck that thing is, it is not a man-god… It is not human. It's like a star…a ball of plasma…that did not radiate heat, did not speak, nor did it make a sound," KRAZED said.

"Since the beginning of humanity, the religious have fought, killed and died over gods that they cannot prove—over gods they have not seen. Religions, in the name of gods, have spilt more blood than any other organization in human history," KRAZED continued.

"Personally, I am more of an individualist, and I hate authority, so religions and gods do not work for me; I don't like answering to anyone, including gods," KRAZED said, laughing.

After getting married, KRAZED and I headed back to Camp Pendleton as Marines for SOI [School of Infantry].

Of course, seven Marines never came back from boot-camp… In all honesty, I could not blame them.

Within a few weeks of SOI, we had dropped another dozen Marines, as they went AWOL, or refused to participate in the Marine Corps, altogether, and if you have ever served, you would know the reasons why. Do not let commercials fool you, young bloods…

While in Camp Pendleton training, KRAZED got a call from his wife back in Missouri, while we were out in the field, telling him to have his sergeant—recruiter—stop calling her, and asking her out on dates…

At this point, KRAZED was only a private, but KRAZED…well…KRAZED was…KRAZED.

I was sitting next to KRAZED when he called his recruiter that day… The phone call took about thirty seconds.

"If you call my wife one more time, I will make one phone call, ensuring you eat from a fucking straw for the rest of your fucking life," KRAZED told the Marine sergeant.

The sergeant hung up, not saying a word, and he did not call KRAZED's wife again.

If you have ever served in the military, you would know that is one of stupidest, dumbest things a private could ever do, but KRAZED does not have fucks to give. Besides, the sergeant—the recruiter that kept calling KRAZED's wife—well…his wife left him and took the children while we were in boot-camp. From what we have heard from the wife, the sergeant constantly beat her.

Those are some Marine Corps values right there. Hey, like I said, do not let commercials or the media brainwash you.

Now, let us fast forward a bit… In Alpha Company, we had a corporal that was under four investigations by the government for war crimes during the Second Battle of Fallujah… For privacy sakes, we will call him Corporal Shit-Bag, and no, for viewer sake, we will not disclose the war crimes…they're pretty gruesome. Besides, this website is for entertainment purposes—not politics, or war.

Corporal Shit-Bag had a reputation of entering the barracks while Marines were out in the field, training… He would enter the barracks, and steal money from Marines' lockers. Not a fucking thing ever happened to Corporal Shit-Bag for thieving, even though several Marines filed reports to command.

While we were out in the field one day, KRAZED and I came back to our barracks to find my locker pried open, and $58 dollars stolen from my wallet. As you can imagine I was pissed, but what was I to do? At the time, I was a mere private, and nothing was ever said to Corporal Shit-Bag, anyways.

I looked at KRAZED, pissed, and asked him what he thought I should do… He said, "I don't give advice to people on matters such as this, because a man should only act based on his own beliefs and principals. Do what you have to do, as a man. I will not look at you any different."

I ignored the whole incident and moved on…

A few weeks later, KRAZED and I, along with a few other Marines, went down to San Diego on 'liberty'—weekend off from the Marine Corps.

KRAZED had gotten "KRAZED" tattooed across his stomach, along with another tattoo on his ribs. The following weekend, we decided to go swimming…

In the men's restroom, there were five of us Marines getting dressed after a few hours of swimming. KRAZED was the only one naked when the Asian chick walked in—but he had a towel wrapped around him—because he had to take a shit.

"No! No, no, no—out! Out!" the Asian lady screamed, as she tugged on my shoulder trying to force us out of the men's restroom.

As she tugged on my arm, I yelled back," no! You get out! This is the guy's restroom! The guy's restroom! You know, the restrooms for dicks…not slanted pussy…"

She yelled back, speaking and yelling shitenese…an Asian language I cannot understand… In fact, "no", and "out" were the only English this woman spoke.

This Asian chick was getting mean and forceful, yelling at us, until KRAZED drops his towel, starts running at the Asian woman, swinging his dick like a helicopter with his right hand. The Asian lady screams this high-pitched scream and runs out of the men's restroom.

After she runs out, screaming, we all burst out laughing. KRAZED then says, "let's get the fuck out of here before I get arrested for culturally enriching the Asian lady."

Let's fast forward a bit… On a Friday, after being in the field, we come back and found KRAZED's locker pried open, and $500 stolen from his civies' [civilian] cargo shorts. The $500 was money KRAZED had saved up for his daughter's one-year birthday—to buy her a present and have it shipped to their house, back in Missouri.

KRAZED slams the locker and runs out of the barracks… I did not, nor did any Marine try to stop him. In the Marines, we called them "killer eyes"—those eyes that go blank…

Corporal Shit-Bag was standing outside the barracks with two other sergeants when KRAZED ran up and spit on Corporal Shit-Bag, calling him a "fucking pussy man-bitch!"

One of the sergeants yells at KRAZED, saying, "that's an automatic NJP, Marine!"

I and four other Marines run down to try and get KRAZED back into the barracks before he did anything else stupid… Before we got there, KRAZED let it fly, saying, "fuck your NPJ, bitch—shove it up your ass!"

I am not much of a military law person, but basically, an NJP is legal military punishment without court martial. Court martial is the same as civilian court—I mean, it does the same thing. If convicted, you will face punishment, and possible brig [military prison] time, which is the same as civilian jail or prison. In the civilian world, NJPs and court martial do not mean a thing, once you are out of the military, unless the Marine receives a dishonorable discharge, which is a felony in the civilian world.

There was not much we could do to defuse the situation, because KRAZED and the sergeants, along with Corporal Shit-Bag, were in each other's faces, yelling and shit-talking.

After what seemed like an eternity, First Sergeant and Gunny Sergeant intervened, telling the sergeants and Corporal Shit-Bag to "get the fuck out of my sight! Every other Marine get in the god damn barracks!"

After about two hours of sitting in the barracks in silence, the Marines were released on liberty, except KRAZED. Even though KRAZED told me to leave, I stayed behind. I did not have anywhere else to go, anyways, because I was too young to rent a hotel room, which we did every weekend, so I figured I would stay in the barracks.

KRAZED was ordered to stay in the barracks for the weekend, as punishment, until command decided what they wanted to do with KRAZED.

Lo and behold, KRAZED does what the fuck he wants to do… He tells me, "I'm leaving—going to go get shit-faced. Go take a shower, wait two hours, and if you get bored, text me. Here's a $100, Krazee," KRAZED said.

KRAZED was leaving despite orders, and he did not want me wrapped up in it, so he handed me cab money, and left alone, until he made it off base and down to San Diego.

There were two Marines that had guard duty… They had the job of ensuring KRAZED did not leave the barracks, especially the base. Good luck with that…

"You can't leave the barracks, Marine!" one of the Marines yelled at KRAZED, as he made it to the door, about to walk out of the barracks.

"Which one of you fucks are going to try and stop me?" KRAZED asked, as he walked past the two Marines, out of the barracks.

The two Marines looked at each other for a second until one of the Marines took off running, heading for Staff Sergeant's office—the Marine in charge that Friday night.

By the time I reached the hotel room—three hours later—KRAZED and four other Marines were sitting at the table, drinking and playing King's Cup.

Instantly, I knew something was off about KRAZED, because he had put both his looped earrings back in both ears—something he had not done since the streets. This was on Good Friday.

That weekend, I watched a great Marine turn back into a civilian. On Easter, he left, forever.

That Friday, KRAZED had made a call back home, to one of his street and military-connections. The next day, on Saturday, KRAZED's lawyer contacted him.

The lawyer was a civilian lawyer that specialized in cases that sued and took on the military and the government. KRAZED knew what he was doing, because the Marines would more than likely NJP him, or worse, court martial over a thief…Corporal Shit-Bag.

Do you want to know the best part of it all? KRAZED's lawyer received payments from outside-connections. KRAZED did not have to pay a single penny for the lawyer. I will let you figure that one out on your own.

"The government hates publicity, because it shines a light on their darkness. To the mother's of America, or civilians who have never worked for the government, Uncle Sam is great… However, behind closed doors, Uncle Sam does not work for you…he doesn't even work for the United States President. Uncle Sam works for Uncle Sam, and when you dig deep, our government is unregulated, and answers to a select few…those who rule from the darkness. Rest assured, those select few are not elected by the people," KRAZED said during this interview.

On Monday, KRAZED's lawyer was fast at work, working his way through the Marine Corps' chain of command, gathering information.

That Thursday, command dropped all charges against KRAZED; however, KRAZED and his lawyer was not done fucking with the Corps.

"I have a code in life—if you fuck with me, or one of my Krazees, I will fuck with you, and I always win…just ask your president," KRAZED said, laughing, during this interview.

Over several weeks, while still, technically, in the Marines, KRAZED grew out his beard, and refused to wear cammies [MCCUU; Marine Corps Combat Utility Uniform], and not one Marine within our command said a word to KRAZED, for the simple fact KRAZED had a legal team going after the Corps. As far as our command was concerned, KRAZED was untouchable. Sure, it pissed off many Marines within command, but what were they going to do? The Marine Corps fucked up, and they knew it, as you will understand, soon, within this article.

Over several weeks, KRAZED would periodically go AWOL when he got bored. What is AWOL you ask? The definition is this—"Absent Without Official Leave; absent from one's post but without intent to desert."

Basically, AWOL is like leaving your job early without permission, or before your shift is over. Yes, if the Marine Corps wanted to, they could have punished KRAZED, but they never did.

Command knew KRAZED left constantly, and they let him without saying a word. Hell, KRAZED left a few times to buy Marines, including some of the sergeants, carry-out food. Often times, KRAZED would leave all day, and come back at night; or work in the morning doing bullshit work for the Marines, and then disappear all night. Myself, personally, I always knew where he was because we would text back and forth, and a lot of times, he would bring me a pizza or something when he came back… He hooked me up with a girl he met down in San Diego...the girl that I would lose my virginity to.

I come from a very racist family and background, but the girl was a black girl from the Navy... I dove into the chocolate and fell in love. Since then, I have slept with four black girls, and six Hispanic women. It's all pink in the middle, right?

Did I just put that out in the open for the world to see? "Fuck it—and fuck them," as KRAZED always says.

Towards the end, KRAZED came and went whenever he pleased, and no one tried to stop him.

"Sometimes, I got bored participating in 'the suck'—got bored of being a Marine—so I would leave for a few hours at a time, and go eat, watch a movie, visit with my wife and daughter on the phone; went to the beach one time to swim for a few hours, and then came back to 'the suck,'" KRAZED said, during the interview.

"By that point, I was no longer a Marine… I was just waiting for my contract to expire—waiting on Uncle Sam to hand me my DD214s. Technically, I was still an active duty Marine with a contract, but in my heart, I was no longer a Marine; in fact, I hated the title, and regretted enlisting. You live and you learn—that is all you can do," KRAZED said, during this interview.

Now, let us fast forward a few months… KRAZED still has his lawyer, and the lawyer is still fighting the government, legally.

One weekend, KRAZED and I, along with several other Marines, decided to stay on base during liberty to play Xbox 360… Call of Duty Modern Warfare 2, of course. When Call of Duty was actually good. Anyways, a lance corporal walks into the barracks, screaming, "a few of you pieces of shit need to take out Sergeant's trash! Now!"

KRAZED jumps up, and throws a chair across the room, towards the lance corporal, and yells, "fuck you, shit-bag—take out your boyfriend's trash your damn self! Marines are the only people I see in here! Next time, say please, office bitch!"

The lance corporal was one of the office bitches—Marines that helped the sergeants in their offices doing admin work, such as filing papers, running errands, etc.

After KRAZED threw the chair at the office bitch, the lance corporal takes off running towards the sergeant's office.

The lance corporal comes back with Corporal Meathead—a gym rat that popped steroids like Skittles. He was an old school Marine, and many of the sergeants called him 'Alpha'. KRAZED would soon put his name to the test…

Corporal Meathead comes storming into the barracks, holding a tin trash can, filled with trash.

"The sergeant needs his trash taken out. Do it now, shit bag!" Corporal Meathead screamed at KRAZED as they both stood face to face, inches apart.

KRAZED then drop kicks the trash can out of Corporal Meathead's hand, sending trash and the trash can across the room.

KRAZED then says, "you better go pick up your boyfriend's trash…"

Corporal Meathead yells at KRAZED, "go pick that shit up with your pussy lips, faggot!"

KRAZED responds, saying, "it'd be a cold day in hell before I take orders from a man-bitch…a fucking pretend soldier… Next time you want one of my Marines to take out trash, say please, bitch."

Corporal Meathead screams back, "I'm not a solider! I'm a fucking combat Marine, trash! Those aren't your Marines, either! I out rank all of you cock suckers!"

"I don't give a flying-fuck who you think you are—where I'm from, you're still a fucking man-bitch, and you would not last a day on my streets. You're fucking weak minded, and soft, and that is why you're standing here letting me disrespect your punk ass, because you're institutionalized—Uncle Sam's stooge—a fool who fights and dies for old men's greed—in wars you do not understand, because you're too institutionalized to think for yourself!," KRAZED yelled, while in the face of Corporal Meathead.

"Then why the fuck did you join?! You're just a piece of shit that cannot take orders, because you're some thug off the block that does not have respect for anyone," Corporal Meathead yelled at KRAZED.

"Respect?! You think just because you have rank in a boy-scout club, and cable of killing like every other human being, that you're some kind of fucking man-god that should be worshipped and respected? Let me tell you…you ain't shit! On the street, they would bend you over and fuck you like the man-bitch that you are. I don't kneel to any fucking man, especially man-bitches who plays Lion…fucking pretend Lion," KRAZED yelled at the corporal.

"I joined because I love to fight—it's that fucking simple. You joined because your punk ass got picked on in school, so you juiced up and joined the Marines, trying to gain respect that no one on the streets would give you. You can't earn respect on the street, like a Lion, because, deep down, you're a soft ass bitch—softer than medicated cotton!" KRAZED said, screaming, as Corporal Meathead stood there, silent.

"Get the fuck out of my face, pussified cunt—these Marines aren't picking up your shit, either, until you say please," KRAZED yelled, as the corporal stood there, until walking out of the barracks, getting Sergeant and another sergeant.

KRAZED went and sat back down, eating his pizza. Five minutes later, two sergeants walk in, asking the Marines what had happened. KRAZED stands up, and walks between the Marines and the sergeants, saying, "two man-bitches came in, wanting the trash taken out, but they forgot to say please…"

I swear on my life, I watched twelve Marines, including myself, consciously or subconsciously walk over and stand behind KRAZED as he faced off with the sergeants, as if we were a pride of Lions.

At that very moment, I knew the Marine Corps had a problem…a huge problem. A private took command over a barrack, facing off with corporals and sergeants, with zero fucks to give.

'Alpha' lost his dominance among the younger Marines by a private from the streets.

The sergeant looks around KRAZED, looks at the Marines that supported him, and says, "I need my trash taken out, can someone please take it out?"

I swear to God, if there is a God, that is what the sergeant asked the twelve Marines that stood behind KRAZED.

KRAZED responds, saying, "no problem, Sarnt, I'll take it out."

The sergeant says, "kill," and then walks out of the barracks.

One of the twelve Marines then blurts out, "old school verse new school—we were about to go down!"

KRAZED winks at the Marine, and then smiles, nodding his head. KRAZED and I, along with two other Marines take out the sergeant's trash.

Now, let us fast forward a few more months… Remember all of those text messages that KRAZED's recruiter sent to KRAZED's wife? KRAZED's lawyer receives copies of all the text messages through a subpoena against AT&T, and hands them over to command. Remember how KRAZED's contract was fucked up when he got to MCRD?

Somehow, politically and legally speaking, the "Marine Corps was in a contract breach," according to KRAZED's lawyer. Meaning, KRAZED's contract was not valid with the Marine Corps.

KRAZED was a free man… However, he still had to wait for command to sign off on the papers, and before they did, they wanted to speak with KRAZED, personally. When I say command, I am talking two First Lieutenants—in the same room, together—one Captain, one Major, and one Lieutenant Colonel.

"I was sitting in Lieutenant Colonel's office, and he says, 'I personally talked with your drill instructors, and a few of the sergeants, and they say you were an excellent Marine. You came into the Marines having prior law enforcement training and college…What happened? Someone does not just wake up one day and say, 'I'm going to raise hell in the Marine Corps, just for shits and giggles.'"

"'Something happened, and I want names. I have all of the text messages from your recruiter, and I have already taken care of that Marine—his actions are against Article 134 of the UCMJ [Uniform Code of Military Justice],'" KRAZED said during the interview.

"I told him about the incident with Corporal Shit-Bag, and Lieutenant Colonel says, 'I'm going to give you one last offer, Marine—because we could use a good Marine, like yourself, especially with your prior training. We can act like this never happened, rejoin my beloved Corps, and I promote you two ranks, up to lance corporal.' I said, 'sorry, Sir, but my heart and mind is not in the Corps anymore," KRAZED said, during this interview.

"Lieutenant Colonel then says, 'very well, Marine—I am signing off on your papers, and you will be good to go within a few weeks. Best of luck to you, Marine," KRAZED continued.

"I said, 'thank you, Sir—I appreciate it, Sir,' and then I walked out, never looking back," KRAZED added.

KRAZED's recruiter and Corporal Shit-Bag were both removed from the Marine Corps shortly afterwards, and a few years later, Corporal Shit-Bag was arrested and sent to prison after abducting a woman at gun-point.

As for KRAZED, he left the Marine Corps with a job waiting on him.

"Two days after getting home, I had to go to work, working as a heavy equipment operator; no rest for me," KRAZED said, laughing.

Three days after getting out of the Marines, the plasma orb introduces itself, once again.

"I was sleeping, when about three hours before I had to get up for work, the orb—the same orb in the abandon house, and on King Hill—appeared at the foot of my bed, floating at my feet. This incident was unusual, though, because I could not move and the hairs on my arm stood-on-end. This time, the orb made a static-popping sound, and the light was intense—like looking directly at a flash light in the dark," KRAZED said, during this interview.

"Within five minutes, the orb disappeared as if someone had turned out the lights. After about thirty seconds of it disappearing, I could move again, so I jump up out of bed, and run for the frig to grab a Bud Light. I drank two beers within a matter of a minute," KRAZED said, laughing.

"The next morning, I texted my wife from work, asking her if she saw anything strange last night, and she replied, 'I thought I saw a flash light, or some kind of light, but I think it was a dream, though. Why?' I explained the whole story, and informed her that I saw the plasma ball again. Of course, she was freaked out and ready to move to a different house," KRAZED said, laughing.

That same day, KRAZED texted me about the orb, freaking out. I told him to quit being a pussy, and be a Marine and shoot it….to "kill it with fire."

KRAZED replied back, texting, "it's already fire, dumb fuck."

I replied back, "then throw water on it, dip-shit!"

Within two years out of the Marine Corps, KRAZED bought a new car and paid it off, while his wife graduated medical school, earning her Doctors Degree in Pharmacy. Within three years, KRAZED and his wife bought a brand new house—just two years old—along with a brand new Tahoe LTZ, and a brand new Silverado LTZ Z71.

Let me tell you, KRAZED is not hurting for money…

After a few years of working, KRAZED quit his job to chase his dreams of building a "business empire."

Within three years, KRAZED built six brands, while signing seventeen business partnerships with some of the world's largest brands and manufacturers in the world, including a membership with the Associated Press.

Four years after leaving the Marine Corps, KRAZED's wife takes a pregnancy test on KRAZED's birthday, finding out that she was pregnant. KRAZED tried to go against the dream, wanting to name his son, "Stryker," but his wife refused. Instead, they settled on "Kalvin Stryker", fulfilling KRAZED's repetitive dream.

A few months later, KRAZED was contacted by the United States Army, asking him to personally design clothing for Army units. He agreed, and designed clothing two years straight for combat Soldiers.

Soon afterwards, KRAZED was contacted by business people and American politicians, asking KRAZED "to coach them on personality"—to be their personal branding expert. I would laugh if it were not true…

From there, KRAZED worked with local, state, and a couple American Presidential candidates, and six world leaders. In fact, KRAZED was a big supporter and funder of Missouri's Constitutional Carry, which passed with ease.

If you think KRAZED is a Democrat, you are wrong. If you think KRAZED is a Republican, you are wrong again.

"Every candidate I have worked with, all have been anti-establishment, because I cannot stand either party, and I have always had the desire to bring down the status-quo. I am a rebel at heart—and I will die standing as a free man," KRAZED said, during this interview.

Soon afterwards, KRAZED forms an organization called "Freemen", which is made up of mostly young, former military, including myself. We are mostly Millennials that work with orphans, children from the streets, along with children with cancer, while donating to military non-profits.

The Freemen logo.

KRAZED and we Freemen continue to donate money and brand new clothing to America's needy children, which comes from blank clothing from KRAZEDWEAR and RED's inventory.

KRAZED now becomes somewhat of an international, underground rock star. A porn star, several models, various women from around the world—along with Serenity—contacted KRAZED, sending pornography and kinky pictures of themselves.

Before this article, we received permission from Serenity about posting the following statements.

"Out of the blue, Serenity contacts you, sending you nudy pictures, and wanting to hook-up, correct?" I asked KRAZED.

"Ya… Out of the blue, Serenity sent me a message on Facebook, along with some naughty selfies, wanting to fuck. I told her that I was married, but she replied back saying she could fly out to Kansas City and meet me in a hotel, and that my wife would never find out," KRAZED said.

"You turned her down?" I asked KRAZED.

"Ya," KRAZED replied.

"You also had a professional porn star, and several models contact you as well…" I said.

"Ya, I had several daughters of politicians contact me; a business woman from Australia and Japan; and some models from Britain, Germany, France, and the United States; several daughters from church leaders; plus other chicks I have no clue who they are," KRAZED said, smiling.

"The majority of these girls are from rich and powerful families, and I have seen some of these pictures; and I still question why you turned them down…" I said.

"I don't need a reason," KRAZED said, laughing.

"In fact, the constant private messages are the reasons I deleted my Facebook account, forever," KRAZED continued.

"Let's not forget that you told Trump, business and world leaders that you were going to destroy Facebook," I said laughing.

"Ya...now look at Facebook..its falling apart," KRAZED said, laughing.

"Guys, do not let women fool you—they are just as thirsty and horny as men; and most are married and religious," KRAZED said, laughing.

Now, let us fast forward to summer 2016… Several weeks before the Russian investigation was a thing—before Trump even won the Republican presidential candidacy—when Ted Cruz was winning—KRAZED personally told President Donald J Trump his "inner-circle would be your downfall," and that "money-laundering would bring you all down."

"I know your deepest, darkest secrets—shit your own family does not know about you," KRAZED told Trump.

KRAZED told Trump, "you will win the presidency, but you will not unite your country without my help. Your people will march against you on the streets, while your inner cities burn with hatred. Evil will sweep across your nation, as your citizens kill one another. In 2018, your economy will begin to crumble, after your revelations are revealed to the world."

KRAZED warned Trump, "do not attack Iran, because it will unite Syria and Iran against Israel, while Russia funnels weapons. Muslim armies would enter Israel, and slaughter her men, while raping and enslaving her women and children. If you attack Iran, it will be a major defeat for the United States; you will not win the war."

"You need to build up your economy, and your military for what is coming," KRAZED told Trump.

Two days later, Iran test fires ballistic missiles.

KRAZED also told Trump, while Obama was still president, that "China would become an enemy, and depending on your actions, it will lead to war."

"Your east and west coasts will become ash and blood," KRAZED warned Trump.

Out of respect to First Lady Melania, and for national security, I will not reveal anymore…

During the night of the presidential election, Trump was losing and it looked like Hillary was going to win. However, KRAZED sends a message to the Trump campaign, "why are you worried? You already won…"

Twenty-minutes later, Trump is declared the victor in Michigan, securing the Presidential election.

Now, let us fast forward a bit… KRAZED ends up calling Trump a "fucking fool who does not know his own limits."

"If you think the American people put you into power, you're crazier than I am," KRAZED told Trump.

A few days later, Trump says this:

The next day, KRAZED gets a tip from connections…

The following day, KRAZED Industries discovers the JavaScript that infected one of their computers… This particular script allowed the 'hacker' to key-log all logins, files, and websites visited.

"Fucking amateurs… Trump was too pussified and retarded to do it himself, so he tries to send an amateur hacker to snoop on our system, after the world finds out about the Russian hacking," KRAZED said laughing, during this interview.

"Using an outside computer—the one that wasn't infected with the JavaScript, that I had already isolated—I set up a fake website…a website that looked similar to KRAZESTER, along with fake accounts. With the fake accounts, I posted anti-Trump rhetoric and memes," KRAZED said, laughing.

"I could have removed the JavaScript, easily, because I had already isolated it the minute it infected the computer, but what fun would that be? For three days, I used the infected computer and logged in and out of the fake website. On the fourth day as I was told, their amateur hacker creates an account on the fake website as I waited," KRAZED said.

"Get this—the kid was foolish enough to upload and post a real picture of himself on the fake website, as his profile picture… I already knew who the kid was, before they infected the computer, but how dumb can you be to post a picture of your real identity?" KRAZED said, laughing.

"The hacker sends me a private message, asking, 'are you afraid?'"

"I replied back, 'afraid of what?'" KRAZED added.

"He then sends a message, revealing the very easy admin password that I used to create the fake website. Amateur shit… I then say, 'get a life kid'," KRAZED continued.

"The kid then wipes out the server, and redirects the website to a webpage full of Pro Russian and Trump propaganda," KRAZED said, laughing.

"A few days later, his goons tried to snoop into my bank account; of course, I was tipped off a few days earlier. Besides that, I had used a burner phone and a temporary bank account when I donated to his campaign. I shut both down… Fucking amateurs… America, this is the guy that is supposed to make America Great Again," KRAZED said, laughing.

Two days after hacking the fake website, Buzzfeed, for the first time to public, releases the Russian "pee-pee-prostitute-dossier".

"God has a sense of humor," KRAZED said, laughing.

"Trump was too pussified to do his own dirty work, so he sent a gullible kid to do it; fucking pussies we have running our country; and that is why world leaders disrepect and laugh at him and his adminstration," KRAZED said, laughing.

A few months later, KRAZED takes on the Mormon Church, the Pope and the Catholic Church, along with the heads of the Christian Church, telling them, "you own the Liar; once the Liar falls, your church of False Prophets will fall with him."

KRAZED added, saying, "in 25-years, your God will be forgotten, and your religion will die-out."

"America's Millennials will remember who supported the Liar; hell, Millennials already despise your religion, as Millennials are the last generation [the generation to see Christianity crumble in the United States and Europe]," KRAZED told the church leaders.

KRAZED then warned them, "your god's name and reputation is about to be put to the test."

A week later, Devin Kelley walks into a Texas church, killing 26 people… Get this, Devin was 26-years-of-age, too. Do any of you like numerology?

Unlike European world leaders, and other American politicians, Trump and the church leaders refused to listen, even though KRAZED warned them, and told them the exact days each event would occur. Instead, the church leaders ran off and told Trump about what KRAZED had warned. The Mormon Church leaders were the biggest snitches.

KRAZED has since retired from politics, and now focuses his time helping America's children, combat veterans, and entertaining his fellow Krazees.

Like I said, it was a story you had to read...in order to believe...