"Oh Sweet Engelica"

(Composed: 09/13/10)



During my unfortunate stay at Le Chateau De Lake County, I met a girl. Not just any girl, but a lady of enchanting allure. A woman who, just with one strike glare, would stir up so many emotions, your heart would change climates in an instant. Her name? Engelica Castillo. Yeah, you heard me, Engelica Castillo, or as we here in LCJ call her, The “Baby Killer”.


For those who aren’t in the know, last summer, there was a story about an adorable 3 year old infant child named Jada Justice who came up “missing” from a gas station. While her cousin slash babysitter popped inside to quickly purchase some milk and cigarettes. Mostly everyone’s immediate reaction was to question why said babysitter would leave a 3 year old in the car alone in the first place, including myself. I say this because I myself, once or twice, have left my own adorable infant strapped in her seat, at even younger ages, however only in the circumstances that my car was parked right by the door, my doors were locked, it wasn’t summer, and I was only going to the counter, therefore her only being no farther than 5 to 6 feet away and in plain sight for a maximum of 60 seconds. Now with the milk being in the back of EVERY gas station I’ve been to, and purchasing milk AND cigarettes being about a minimum 3 minute process, also considering that a 3 year old is so much easier and far more capable of being brought into a story via their own feet, I should no longer have to argue my point.


There was an immediate amber alert. People of all walks of life within the “region” were doing all they could to send out word of this “missing” child. Social networks flashed with posts of the life info there was. Newspapers updated constantly and daily with not much changing developments. I even strolled to the corner store and was greeted by a woman passing out pictures and contact info of the little one. I, myself, even saw fit to take a picture with my phone and CC it to everyone in my contact list. Every little bit helps right? Well, no, not when said cutie pie is already dead.


You see, comes to find out little Jada’s cousin/babysitter aka Engelica Castillo had a bit of a heroin habit, one she shared with her boyfriend, Timothy Tkachik. Comes to find out, babysitting, and heroin, worse yet babysitting and lack of heroin don’t mix. So, while the innocent little angel was trapped in the custody of her inevitably dope sick (shakes fist) watchers, acting like any 3 year old would, this behavior was apparently too much for the dynamic duo. After a bit of abuse, the two set out, to feed their jones no less, towards Chicago, taking little miss sunshine along. Somehow, on the way, choking a child to literal death was on the agenda. Being the very beacons of safety and awareness, Ms. Castillo and her suitor do the only responsibly thing they can muster up in their doped out brains. Rather than taking the lifeless baby corpse to say, I don’t know, the hospital, or even the authorities, they drive back towards Indiana, switch vehicles (yeah, that means leaving said dead child in prior vehicle), and head back towards Chicago to score some sweet lady H. God forbid you show up to the West Side of Chicago to cop some heroin with a DEAD BABY in your back seat, right? I mean what would Jennifer Hudson say?


~NOTE~ I realize that my tone in telling this story is severely blunt and forthcoming, almost to the point of cruelty. This is merely how I think, and if my vicious tone is the small spark that deters any junkie from killing a baby or even just quitting heroin by reading this and feeling like a piece of shit, so be it. ~END NOTE~


Apparently, upon their return Lois Lame and Super scum try to cremate the……………………………………



Read The Rest at DigitalLizardProductions.com!

Not Down With The Sickness

(Composed: 09/08/10)



Let’s just start this off with a fact. There’s only a select few things I’m annoyed by. Hypocrisy, poverty, bad attitudes, animal rights, children with made up diseases, the show Monk, Bears fans, the stigma behind the number 13, girls with no sense of direction, Burger King, Hessville Indiana, gauged piercings without jewelry, Nickelback, men’s softball, anti cigarette commercials, high pitched sneezes, Xbox’s, divorce, midgets, and a host of other things. However, as of late, there’s been this one thing that has really bothered me, almost to the point of murderous contemplations… being in the presence of dope sick individuals. I mean seriously, what the fuck?


Picture this, you’re just to the point, during your incarcerated vay-cay, where it doesn’t take you trading your meals for somebody’s Neurotin prescription to fall asleep. As you start to doze off, suddenly your bunk is in total toss and turn/vibrate mode. What the fuck? A rain of moist, germy particles of the “unknown” start to mist from above after continuous sneezing. What the fuck?!? Some kind of grumbling commentary erupts, pretty much a bunch of whiny complaints, not loud, yet loud and bitchified enough to keep you awake. What the fuck?!? Your “Bunkie” keeps climbing down from above you, gagging as if he’s gonna hurt all over the place, pacing back and forth, wrapped in his blanket, in straight shiver mode, begging to make conversation with you; “Hey, you up?” “Sorry man, I can’t sleep.” “Are you cold?” “Do you have any sweets?” What the fuck?!?


I barely have sympathy and compassion for regular, full functioning human beings, let alone some dope sick................


Read The Rest at DigitalLizardProductions.com!

Drag Me To Jail

Greetings & Salutations from the clinker. Yes, I’m still in jail. Lake County has seen fit to deny me any kind of modification, therefore keeping me hostage until October 18th, 2010. Apparently my real judge deems it necessary to be “unattainable”, once again leaving all decisions to the magistrate judge. Am I saying Judge Moss would’ve approved what Magistrate Judge Belziski denied? Definitely. Hell, if Moss was actually there for my “probation revocation” I wouldn’t even be here, but I digress.



After being transferred to the “Trustee” section of the main jail for 2 specific reasons; a) Some f*ckface chump stain sent word to the Work Release officers that he felt threatened by me (Hilarious!) and b.) A prolonged wait for my modification hearing, I’ve realized why people with my level of intelligence, wit, and common sense aren’t very well received under these conditions. Unfortunately my ability to use these things for evil (aka manipulation, belittling, and chaos) is all I have for “self-pleasure”, so to speak. No one writes, with the exception of the 3 pieces of, dare I label, fan mail (It’s weird to say that, though even one of them confirms that’s what they are, Thanks MorbidMark J.). Be that as it may, no continuances of personal correspondence, though, it’s fair to say, I’m way used to that at this point, for when I go to jail, I’m generally dead to so called “loved ones”.
Read The Rest at DigitalLizardProductions.com!

Decisions, Decisons: The King Escapes Hell

Let me start off by saying that I am not a HUGE fan of LeBron James. Do I Like the "King" better than Kobe? Fuck yes!!! Truth be told, I'm a bigger Dwyane Wade fan than Kobe OR James. Was I enthralled by the hoopla of the "decision"? Sure, why not? But after waking up the morning after the most exaggerated and publicized NBA "decision" I've ever witnessed, it's the words of Cleveland Cavalier owner Dan Gilbert (for here on out known as Fuck Boy) that has got me in a tizzy. Fuck Boy's public response to LeBron's "decision" to go to the Miami Heat was one of the most ridiculous things I've heard since Joe Jackson's completely clueless denial of the mere possibility that his son MJ could've been gay. What's so damned "disloyal" about James going to another team after 7 wasted seasons in Cleveland? If that's the case, damn near every player who’s played for 2 or more teams should be labeled as such, right? I don't remember anyone shitting on KG for wanting out of Minnesota. I want to even say he was encouraged by the masses. Hell, how "disloyal" were Deon Sanders or Bo Jackson? They played for not only multiple teams, but multiple sporting leagues. Sometimes, opting to cut seasons short of one to tend to the other.



I'm a big advocate of sticking with one team your entire career, but that notion hasn't existed since the 90's, if that. The great NBA god, Michael Jeffrey Jordan, even played for the Wizards. Oh, you're so right Fuck Boy. LeBron committed such a "cowardly" act by choosing to play in Miami, FL instead of Cleveland, OH. Cleveland Ohio, birthplace of such significant artistry and prestige like the classic “East 1999 Eternal” album by Bone Thugs-N -Harmony, and, uhm..., wait, give me second. Oh yeah, that's right, NOTHING FUCKING ELSE! The entire state of Ohio is a lint trap, and that's coming from a resident of neighboring region of scum, Indiana. Simply put, Ohio sucks major AIDS. So you're right Fuck Boy, what an awful thing for James to "desert" a craptastic city Cleveland, just to play basketball in a city full of vagina and sunshine.... Read The Rest at DigitalLizardProductions.com!

I Fought The Law And The Law Won

It’s pretty much a peaceful, fair weathered late afternoon. I’m travelling to Northwest Indiana’s beloved county seat, Crown Point, for what was described to me as a “routine visit” to the probation officer. On the way, as I fiddle with the tuner button on the radio, a goddamn Akon song seeps thru the speakers Before I can change the station, he’s able to bellow out his signature “Convict Music” intro (Red Flag #1).


Upon arriving into the CP city limits, after talking to the mother of my child on the phone (Red Flag #2), I get a call from a friend, asking if I wanna go to a Sox game (aka 1st abandoned chance at escape). I decline, cuz like a good boy, I need to see my probation officer. I park and enter the court building, following in such footsteps as Johnny Depp, John Dillinger, and probably 800 alcohol abusers named John. I walk into the clerk’s office, give my name, to which everyone looks at me as if we’re in that scene in Blow when they’re playing cards and George Young discusses the proverbial “one last pickup” before he exits the drug game to be a dad to his daughter. Again, I resemble Johnny Depp.


With her head bowed, the lady asks me to skip the court room and have a seat. Everyone else is waiting in the lobby (Red Flag #3). I gotta pee, but I wait (aka 2nd abandoned chance at escape). I can see the CP cops pull up, not park. They only do this for two reasons, to be an inmate to court or to take a civilian to jail. I subconsciously smell a set up. Apparently, I have a bench warrant from a court (Merrillville) that, according to my lawyer, had been dismissed. A warrant that my probation officer could’ve easily informed me of when she called me a week prior to scheduling this small town “sting” operation. A warrant that, had I been told, could’ve been fixed with a visit to Merrillville court. Nevertheless, I’m arrested and the next few actions are as follows…


1. The next morning I go to court (Lake County), I’m sentenced to a year, do six months, minus the two months I did when I actually committed the crime, which makes four months, which is October 18th.


2. After a parade of begging, I’m granted to at least be placed in a work release (a process where I can work at my job then go back to jail every night).


3. A week later, I go to Merrillville court. My “dismissed” case can’t be dismissed until my lawyer returns from his Greece vacation. I pray he is ass raped on the way back.


Meanwhile, as I sit in my brand new, 10 square foot apartment, complete with cement and stain filled steel décor, so much is happening on the outs. This very blog you are reading is starting to pick up major steam (which for I thank you so much). The DigitalLizardProductions.com website is in a fuller effect than ever. On a downside, I completely missed the massive comedy festival in Chicago (Sorry Beena and Aziz). The mover of my child is acting like…, well… the mother of a child whose dad went to jail. On one hand, I get it, however, it is discouraging when I’m constantly encountering felons with heavily committed/supportive “baby’s mommas” regardless of the mistreatments and beatings these chicks receive. I’m surely no Ward Cleaver of Heathcliff Huxtable, but I’m far from a Scott Peterson or Joe Jackson.


I was told to “stop chasing this comedy shit”, which I’d have to say, was well worded, because had she worded it “stop chasing your dreams”, then she wouldn’t be able to justify her statement to anyone. Well played. Let it be known, I won’t stop chasing shit I believe in. In my mind, teaching my daughter to stop chasing what she wants would make me as bad of an influence as beating the shit out of her from my Appleton, WI cabin (hint, hint). My daughter should be taught that if you want something, faith, persistence, commitment, and hard work will buy it for you. Hell, that’s how my daughter’s mom got in my pants in the first place.

Ragen For Gary plus Random Thoughts

It's been awhile, I know. . . .

Fairly treacherous week. . . .

Funny thing is, I had 3 instances that kind of screwed me in the head a little, eh, make that a lot. . . .

1. Somebody whom I have a child with acted as if I was stalking her.  First of all, Keith Evans doesn't stalk anyone, not even corn. Shit, I barely show that much concern for people I'm actually "with", let alone, wasting my fucking time to "stalk" her.  Apparently, stopping by to see my child randomly is not on the menu for decent parenting I guess.  And though she apologized, I can't get the sound of her ridiculous accusation out of my ear.  Word to the public; STALKING IS BENEATH ME!  I am not a woman.  I have better things to do.  This is the last I'll say about this situation

2. Some chic basically tried to explain to me that as much as I claim that she's dramatic and ignorant, the truth is that I'm dramatic.  Now apparently this is based on the fact that I get worked up when she gets unnecessarily dramatic, weird, uncharacteristically standoff-ish, and/or says things that have no basic element of intelligence.  Anyone who knows me knows that I despise dumb ass shit.  I tried very hard (and still trying) to hold on to the recently revamped "Nice Keith" and simply said I would just shut up and ignore it when I feel like she's bombarding me with her "girl" like behavior.  Perhaps me even mentioning this now is in direct violation of my "solution". . . . well, this isn't even to her, it's to everyone else.  Do you remember the term "Don't start none, won't be none"?  I do.  I damn near live my entire life by it.  With that being said, I think it's safe to assume that according to that formula, if one starts some, there will be some.  It's basic math.  This is the last I'll say about THIS situation.

3. An individual I hold dear and close to my heart kind of just vanished from my existence.  Ironically enough, it happened precisely after I expressed something that I probably should've just kept to myself.  This hurts my heart, slightly on the same level May 17th hurts my heart.  (side note, as I started that last sentence, Open Arms by Journey started to play on my media player. . .I hate poetic moments)  I don't necessarily regret saying what I said, because it was the truth, and I feel like I've held that in for a little bit too long.  I do, however, feel like maybe I "fucked" up.  I rarely feel that way, for those who know me.  This will probably NOT be the last I'll say about THIS situation.

No matter what "Keith" I am, it seems to never be enough, or in other situations, too much.  So is the life for someone who is kind of "the shit". 

I digress. . . . . .

RAGEN For Gary

Picture this.

1983.  I'm 5 years old.  After having a bunch of adults stare at me for weeks while I amaze them with my Professor X like intellect, thus granting me a spot in the mutant academy they call the Gifted and Talented Program, I enter my first day of kindergarten.  School would eventually be my chosen battlefield for tomfoolery and pre-pubescent "chicken hawking".

I distinctly remember the first 2 "chickens" I met.  Angela Pool and Ragen Hatcher. 

Angela Pool, who now, is just as hot, if not hotter than I personally thought she was in high school, was the mean girl.  Intimidatingly tall, and face full of menacing cynicism. 

But alas, she was not the leader of the two.

The leader?  A light skinned, skinny girl with HUGE, almost handicap like glasses named Ragen Hatcher. 

We eventually became friends through out our elementary years.

Random childhood memory; I got a report card, you know, one of those paper mache' thin colored ones with the S's and the R's.  In the comment section, one of my teachers literally wrote "Keith is a great child, however he is not reaching his full potential.  Spends too much time talking to Ragen Hatcher".

In grammar school society, we were slightly on the same level.  Her dad was the Mayor of Gary.  My mom was the vice president of the PTA.  I won't even get started on the perks. . . . . . .

Fast forward to high school.  Due to my own personal views of life at that point, and my ever running mouth, I wasn't as well liked as when I was king of Banneker school. 

Ragen, however, was nestled nicely in the "elite".  I wouldn't label her a "Heather" or anything.  Let's just say she had a certain swagger (ew, I just used that word) about her that generally only dudes rocked.  I'm not at all saying she was a lesbian.  Far from it actually.  There was something sexy as hell about a cute, light skinned girl, with no use for a weave, dressed like Allen Iverson everyday.

If I remember correctly, Ragen didn't like me too much in high school.  But in her defense, I was kind of a pest.  I was pretty much a younger version of me now, sans the clever banter and witty retorts.

Fast forward to now.  After multiple degrees, becoming a lawyer for the Gary Community School Corp., and a member of the Gary Common Council, Ragen Hatcher is running for Mayor of Gary. . . . .

. . . .uhm, wait, sorry let me rephrase. . . .

Ragen Hatcher is "looking to see if running for Mayor is a viable option". 

For those who were not in the G/T program, that means she's running for Mayor.

When I went the Ragen For Gary Meet & Greet, it was pretty fucking surreal. 

Here I am, at the Barbara Leek Wesson Center, approximately 17 years after I received my first blow job ever in the parking lot of this very building.  Ah the memories.

In walks mayoral hopeful Ragen Hatcher.

Her corn rows replaced with long and bouncy strands of what, I can only assume, is the result of wearing corn rows all your life.  Her baby blue North Carolina garb, now replaced with a very "political" Hillary Clinton pants suit.  Her body, still amazingly "high school" thin after birthing three children.  If I were a girl, I would be inclined to hate on her, but alas, I lost my vagina in the War on Terrorism.

She sees me, and immediately acknowledges my existence.  I swoon, but opt to play it cool.  then I realize something.  She's a politician, and we all know politicians give you same kind of attention strippers give you.  The fact that Ragen is a woman makes this even more awkward.

She lightly scolds me about my smoking habits.  I consider this slightly hypocritical seeing as she was sporting an Obama bumper sticker when she pulled in.  There's 3 things I do that can be considered presidential; owning a Blackberry, being a well spoken black guy adored by whites worldwide, and smoking Newports.

There was a moment, when she noticed I was in attendance, that she said to Qiana Kimbrough-Valentine "Did you see Keith Evans?".  Qiana did not speak.  Must've read the Facebook edition of my blog. 

My favorite Ragen Hatcher friend, Erica Ross (Qualls), was also there.  I'm a big fan of people who don't lose their sense of humor when they grow up.  Erica For Gary!!!! Oh wait, sorry, I'm getting ahead of myself.

I very much appreciated that Ragen just talked like a 31 year old version of the girl I knew from school.  What was actually weird, but good I suppose, is that I felt that she was more in "political mode" during her individual conversations.  When she spoke, it was more down to earth and surprisingly "bullshit" free.  Granted that could change, it was a nice breath of fresh air.

It seems that the 4 Main Issues Of Interests of Ragen's "would be" campaign are;
1.) Public Safety
2.) Community Development
3.) Economic Development
4.) Education


4 things I believe anybody who resides in, has ever lived in, or is even aware of Gary, Indiana, would agree with.

Her method of approach seemed to present the message that the politics practiced by the "current administration (or as a friend of mine labels him "Chops") are no longer effective. 

For those who were NOT in the G/T Program, that means that Rudy Clay's leadership is about as efficacious and fruitful as his Huggy Bear demeanor.  I mean, let's be real, sometimes, I look at pictures of Rudy Clay and I feel like I might've fell out a time machine.

Mrs. Hatcher-(insert married name here, I don't keep up with that shit) appeared focused, honest (as far as politicians go) and clearly prepared for any questions thrown her way.

Someone asked the whereabouts of 25 million dollars that was suppose to be given to the city from HUD.  Hatcher's summarized response was that the city inevitably lost the money to Cleveland, Ohio due to Gary's current "lack of leadership.  To this, I silently resolved that in such a case, Gary should get LeBron for a year.

In what I assess as an obvious sign of leadership, at a certain point, a woman began to rant, ending her harangue with the statement "I believe Ragen Hatcher should be and WILL be our mayor."  Before this woman could finish this statement, Ragen started her own eventual applause.  Now THAT'S a leader.

In what I assess as a "bad decision", during her explanation of examples of cities that have dug themselves from ashes of their own fall, Ragen made a reference to Newark, New Jersey.  To this, I silently imagined a Gary version of the reality show Jersey Shore.  I wouldn't even want to meet THAT Snooki.

I stand by my theory  that George W. Bush's biggest advantage in his campaign was obviously the fact that his father was President.  I also stand by my theory that Barack Obama's biggest advantage in HIS campaign was that the majority were simply fed up with and jaded by the (at that time) current administration.  I ultimately stand by my theory that those two factors are what will inevitably be the biggest advantages to Ragen's campaign.  I mean, we can say that Hatcher would become mayor based on the issues, which I believe she would also have the edge in as well, but let's be totally honest, it's gonna come down to the voter's thought of familiarity with the name Hatcher AND the fact that Rudy Clay pretty much sucks ass.

Just like I could say that I would vote for Ragen because of her stance on this or her views on that, when fundamentally, I would vote for Ragen because she is Ragen Hatcher and that's my homie.

. . . oh, speaking of women in power. . . . .

Stacey Dash

Stacey Lauretta Dash was born in 1966, which means she is 44 years old.  Wait, I don't think you get it. . . .

This is 44 year old Stacey Dash. . . . .

You remember Clueless.  Hell, you remember Mo' Money.  No, I'll do you one better, . . . I remember Illegal In Blue. . . . . . . . .

Stacey Dash (in "Illegal in Blue") - Watch today’s top amazing videos here

I remember this Bronx bombshell causing me alot of "sleepless" nights my junior year in high school.

Stacey was definitely one of the Fresh Prince's hottest "all-star cameo" girlfriends, hands down. Stacey is probably still the hottest 28 year old chic ever to play one of the hottest high school chics in a movie ever. 

4 years ago, at the tender age of 40, Dash out shined a very large percentage of the 20 somethings that have posed for Playboy by posing herself.  Most women could only slit their own wrists to the idea that they could look at 25 how Stacey looks at 44.

If you asked me what female celebrities I'd suspect owned a vial of water from the Fountain of Youth, I can think of 2 people off the top of my head.  Diane Lane (anybody who knows me knows I LOOOOVE some Diane Lane) and Stacey Dash.  This (and the fact that my bestest of female friends nominated her) is why Stacey Dash is this edition's Vagina Hero, enjoy. . . . .

Some Video Love

What's goin' down clowns?

I was doing some internet strolling, and I came across a couple videos that brought a chuckle to my heart, Enjoy. . . . .

When Lady Ga Ga came out, I was immediately a fan.  Anybody who's read my last 2009 blog, "Countdown to 2010" knows my opinion that she got uglier the more popular she got.  Not that Lady GaGa is unattractive, she's just ugl, you know?  I would often say to people that she was an ugly Christina Aguilera.  Then I would often say that her or Britney Spears should've thought of the Ga Ga gimmick first, particularly Aguilera, whom, like Ga Ga, can actually sing, and it would've been an interesting evolution from that "dirty" Xtina phase, instead of damn near disappearing.  Apparently, Christina has my day dreams hooked up to a DVR, but waits way too late to catch up on her episodes.  Meet Lady Ga-Gaguilera, which, as I said before, would be semi acceptable, had Lady Ga Ga wrote all her songs, and didn't do it 2 years prior. . . . . . . .




A few days ago, a friend of mine, a slight insider in the know of all things black, high class, NBA, southern, and ghetto-fabulous, informed me of the reason LeBron choked asshole against the Boston Celtics.  If you are unaware of this reason, feel free to click these links.  For the short and sweet version,   Delonte West (the tattooed, albino shooting guard for the Cleveland Cavaliers) has been thrusting his albino penis inside of his teammate's (King James) momma. I know, classic right?  It takes me back to my high school days, and makes me wonder if Ashanti Miller ever boned Ms. Styles.  But I digress. 
Anyways, yeah, that's the story going around.  Gloria James getting her vag scored on, not the Darius Styles thing. After some Googling of the issued, I wandered into this video, which now makes me question if Powder, er, I mean Delonte actually fucked LeBron first, with apples being known not to fall far from trees and all. . . . . . . . .



Hope you enjoyed that.  If not, you ain't smokin' right. . . . .

stay tuned (specifically you Regionites) for the Ragen For Gary series.  First installment, tomorrow night.

nuff Said