2nd Official Tate-LaBianca Murders Blog

You’re absolutely right, Dan.  You work to make a living and Bobby does not.  You don’t have all the time in the world to develop your lyrical muse in a tax-payer, paid-for music recording studio as Bobby has. You haven’t committed murder and Bobby did.  And, after some soul-searching as I was picking out the newest scent in air fresheners while doing my Chore-List-From-Hell, I figured out why there is such a difference between you and Bobby Beausoleil… You graduated Kindergarten and Bobby should have been held back another year. Yep. It’s as simple as that. You see, you never were satisfied with just the status quo, when your glue and glitter artwork was done, and may I say well done, you did NOT sit on your laurels  and bask in the glory during the Cookie & Milk & Nap Time Hours, as you lay on your home-brought towel, on the floor of your classroom… Your mind went to far greater imaginings. You sought to go where ...

" (moody instrumental Bobby BeauSoleil music here)" Bobby BeauSoleil The Rub Bobby BeauSoleil. Murderer,..tattoo guy extrodinaire,....satan worshiper,...bone-smoker,....musician. Friend. Bobby,...in spite of his faults, is a pretty cool guy. The reason I say this is because he was good enough to put all this freakin' free music up on his website. I must admit, I like free music. I like it when someone says, "Here,...this is free,...go ahead and just freakin' take it, man". I went on his website and found a handful of songs that he recorded sometime in the past 40 years. I have to say that I was pretty impressed. His forte' seems to be in the realm of cool riffs and exceptional mixing. Instrumental music, such as Bobby's, seems to have taken a back seat to the music of the Lady Ga-gas and the Bruce Springsteens....who tend to rely on "vocals" to underscore the "message" they are t...

Mary shook the living room sleepers. "Bobby, Bobby, wake up. Breakfast. Wake up, Gary. Come to the kitchen." Bobby flinched at the words, his nerves still on edge. He wondered why he was so jumpy, as last night he and Gary had come to an understanding. Everything, or rather everyone, was finally falling in line. Bobby nudged Gary, but Gary refused to budge. Bobby joined the girls, and they wolfed down bacon and eggs. Once the pot and beers wore off, Gary's pain had returned with a vengeance. The wounds felt hot to the touch; the area swollen. New blood stains covered the throw pillow. Gary realized Sadie had lied about the wounds looking better. It was just another Family con to get him to agree to go to Spahn's. By now, Gary had lost a lot of blood, more than even he realized. The infection was seeping through his system, giving him a fever. For the first time since Manson's attack, Gary felt truly ill. Gary drifted back to sleep, his system too weak to remain...

Bobby, Mary, and Sadie got Gary back into the kitchen and sat him down at the table. His face was covered in blood, and his breathing labored. Sadie soaked the cuts in rubbing alcohol. Gary winced. She took some dental floss, and a sterilized needle, and sewed up Gary's cheek and ear as best she could. Gary flinched and cried out in pain through it all. "Man up," Bobby said. "Fuck off, Bob. This hurts like a sonofabitch." Mary paced the floor in a silent stupor, handing cotton baton to Sadie when asked. Even after the sutures and dressings were applied, the wounds oozed blood. The group smoked pot to calm down. But it didn't dull the reality of the situation or Gary's pain. Bobby helped Gary back into the living room so he could rest on the couch. He placed a throw pillow behind Gary's bleeding ear. Once the pain died down enough, Gary spoke. "What are you guys tryin' to do, kill me? I've given you all I have. Leave, so I can call an ...

Sunrise shone into those same picture windows. Bobby, stiff from napping in the armchair, stretched his weary body. It had been a long and very uncomfortable night. Mary handed him a cup of coffee. Bobby took a sip and looked over at their charge. Gary was still asleep. Overnight, a river of blood had left his head wounds and wound its way from the pillow, down the couch, and onto the floor. Gary's face was dotted with sweat beads and pasty white. His groans and moans never ended, not even through his slumber. Bobby had suffered enough. He moved to the kitchen to have his coffee in peace. Sadie replaced Bobby as guard. *** The next time Bobby looked out at the valley below, the angle of the sun told him the early morning had lapsed into midday. Bobby rose from Gary's bed. He was immediately reminded of the unfinished business. The girls had made some soup for Gary, and Mary was trying to get him to eat. Bobby, half asleep, wandered into the kitchen and plunked down at the ta...