After yesterday's blitz back to Chicago I was met with crazzyyy torrential rains on the Lakeshore Drive side of the loop. It was out of control.

For the next couple posts if they happen, I will be introducing everybody to some folks. Friends. Pals. Profiled as per writing.com's amended template:

Name: Scissors
Overview: Formerly a resident of Tennessee’s storied Moccasin Bend Hospital for the Criminally Insane, Scissors has since escaped and currently roams the greater Chattanooga area. Unrehabilitated, he seeks out his victims while: frothing vermilion at the mouth, clawing his way through the underbrush at water’s edge of Blythe’s Ferry, holding his breath for minutes -- even tens of minutes -- while breast-stroking just below the surface of the Tennessee River, dodging meteors. Scissors’s intended victims include: the author of this blog, the Zeitgeist, perhaps others.
Born: Late 1960’s, early 1970’s perhaps
Physical Description: Wild eyes, wild hair, bloody jaws, clothed in a straightjacket in various stages of disrobement
Accoutred With: Scissors in one clenched fist -- either right or left is okay, light scuba gear or perhaps a diving mask for time spent underwater
Urgent Goals: Seeking aforementioned victims
Likely to React: With nominal stealth but extreme violence
Inner Conflict: Little to none
Romantic Intentions: Might be interested in a stripper named Barb. It’s neither here nor there, really.
Favorite Time of Day: Midnight and/or the wee hours, particularly when there’s a thunderstorm