Smoking Gun reports 21-year-old Antonio Vasquez allegedly broke into a Fresno home Saturday morning, stole $900, and in a bizarre attack, beat one resident with an 8-inch sausage before tossing seasoning into another victim’s face.

That’s almost as good as the time in 2000 when zany actress Anne Heche, allegedly suffering a mental breakdown after her breakup with Ellen DeGeneres, was found wandering in a rural area outside Fresno. Reportedly wearing only a bra and shorts, she rang a stranger’s doorbell, inquired about a gateway to outer space, and asked if she could use their shower.

Now comes the incredible part: one time when I was 8, I flashed my sausage at Marcy Gatrel, a schizophrenic girl my age who lived across the street from me in Fresno. She later knocked on our door, and when my dad answered, she bit him on the arm, and listen to this: she was wearing a bra and shorts!

	Anne Heche	Marcy Gatrel
Geographic Location	Fresno	Fresno
Mental State	(allegedly) crazy	(certified) crazy
Attire	bra & shorts	bra & shorts
Knocked on Door?	yes	yes
Bizarre Act	asked about space gateway	bit my dad’s arm
Presence of “Gate”	yes, inquired about the outer space variety	yes, last name is Gatrel, pronounced GATE-rull
Reaction to Sausage	will eat it, provided it’s attached to Ellen DeGeneres	will look at it, provided it’s hanging out of the 1979 terrycloth shorts my grandma made

These disparate synchronicities have coalesced into a ratty nexus more uncanny and fabulous than 80s metal band hair, and I’m gonna wear that wig, people! Anne Heche is my interdimensional psychic Fresno underwear sausage space gateway twin AND I INTEND TO PROVE IT!

This past weekend I traveled to Bodie, California’s only Gold Rush ghost town. Nestled in a grassy meadow in the high Sierras about 75 miles from Lake Tahoe, the town stands frozen in a state of arrested decay with clapboard buildings spitting nails under a blisting sun.

1800s gold miners braved isolation, fires, disease, -40 Farenheit winters with 20-foot snows, dynamite accidents, gunfights, and stabbings to work their claims worth $35 to $100 million in total, depending on whom you ask. The clothes, hats, boots, beds, blankets, dry goods, cans, bottles, dishes, games, toys, false teeth, glass eyes, tools, horse-drawn carriages, art, books, magazines, and other belongings of the miners and their families lie right where they left them as they fled violence and firestorms…or died.

The town is still. The leaning houses & outhouses, church, town bank, hotel, bar, general store, cemetary, morgue where you can see tiny coffins lined up for babies, and Chinatown where murdering gunslingers smoked opium, gambled, and screwed hookers stand in eerie quiet. All you hear is wind in the grass and your boots in the gravel. Several times I peered through a dusty window and could swear I saw movement—a shadow, maybe, or a face darting from view. I loved it though it smelled of death.

E.S.P. overload.

Photos are posted here.