Pardon the cringe, but I thought this would be fun being two of America's bank robbers. I was going to choose Dillinger: but Nelson has the feat of killing the most government agents at the time, and both wield a Colt pistol.
Jesse James: I'm here to busy a Baby Face
Who thinks that he is the 1930's scarface.
I'm the image of the Western law, who are you I reckon,
But Dillinger, Floyd's and Clyde's sloppy second.
You may be public enemy number 1 but you're forgotten.
But of the "Public Enemies" you're probably the most rotten.
You don't care if you hit a woman or a child.
Against creeps like you I get wild.
Your aim was bad, it was all luck,
Of all the G-men who's lives you took.
Relying on machine guns and brute force.
Ironically you're life was ended by the G-Force.
Less technology, more talent is just what you need.
And also, turn down the bloodlust and all that greed.
Baby Face Nelson:
Want to talk about names, your middle name was Woodson.
If I had that name, I would use your Bowie knife as a cushion.
Talk about success? I killed more G-Man than any other criminal.
The men you've killed's skills were plain subliminal.
I got killed by my wife, you died alone.
By your own member, you got blown.
What, were you thinking dusting with your back turned?
That was bad judgement, you were destined to get burned.
I'm young and fresh, you're stale and outdated
Live with a traitor, your death was accelerated.
Like you should have done with Ford, get rid of that beard.
It wasn't your guns that the Westerners feared.
You relied on luck, I was tough as nails.
My machine guns shattered the rails.
Jesse James:
Call yourself tough, you got beat by a teenager.
Against a Mama's boy, I think I'm cagier.
I could draw my Colt's in a flash.
Against greater firepower you just dash.
I'm the greatest outlaw, you were always behind.
To think you could beat me, you have to be blind.
My duels against sheriffs, made folklore.
You're duels with G-men, were such a great bore.
You were so self conscious about your name you grew an ugly stache.
Just like your style and shooting skills, it was trash.
Just like with your career you're struggling. What are you going to do call Dillinger?
Your life was so udderly unoriginal, writers had to get fillinger.
How did scum like you get a wife like that?
Do the world a favor, get rid of that bowler hat.
Don't forget I eluded the Pinkertons, you got killed my G-Men.
Which Hoover, took credit for to
... keep reading on reddit ➡
I stumbled across this (very old) missing person case on Namus and found it intriguing for a number of reasons. Not the least of which was the mere mention of everyone's favorite depression-era bank robber, Baby Face Nelson.
Roy J. Frisch was a cashier at a local bank (teller? unsure if they just used different terminology back then, but by all accounts, they call him a cashier. What bank has a cashier? Tellers. They have tellers. Anyhow, I digress...) who was scheduled to testify in court. And we're talking the king-of-the-Reno-underworld-and-casinos here: Jim McKay and Bill Graham. Knowing this, I suppose it's not a total shock that he goes missing just prior to the trial, on March 22, 1934. The case involved a mail-fraud scheme that bilked investors out of thousands of dollars-and it took place at the Riverside Bank. Mr. Frisch was to be the key government witness in the trial.
Per Namus, on March 22, 1934, Mr. Frisch attended a 7:45 PM? showing of " Gallant Lady" at the Majestic Theater, located within walking distance of his home. Afterwards, a friend saw him at the corner of nearby Sierra and Court Streets, but Mr. Frisch never made it home, and was never seen again. (As to how reliable the eyewitness spotting of Mr. Frisch was, I'd gamble it was accurate, based on the description of his gait: He "walked very erect and had a peculiar very noticeable swing to his body when he walked, shoulders thrown back and feet swing forward ahead of his body when he walked." Pretty distinctive, enough to ID someone at a distance.)
McKay/Graham ran a number of establishments frequented by the likes of Baby Face Nelson, John Dillinger, Pretty Boy Floyd, etc-they were good places to launder money, amongst other things. Which leads us to our main suspects in this case: both Baby Face Nelson and John Paul Chase were in town at the time of Mr. Frisch's disappearance. Were they hired to dispose of him, perhaps? Supposedly friends/fellow gang members of Baby Face Nelson confessed to the crime, but no body has ever been recovered, and one of the people who confessed (Chase) later recanted.
A reward of $2,000 was offered at the time of his disappearance, mine shafts all around the area were searched, with no luck. Some speculate that he was paid off/bribed to skip town, but that seems unlikely based on all descriptions of his character in general. More recently, interest turned towards a property in town, but the current owners declined to let anyone use ground-pen
... keep reading on reddit ➡I noticed that in the lyrics to Soliloquy, it says " In 1916, at 7 years old, I shot a kid in the mug with a found pistol". But from what I could find it was in July of 1921, and he was 12. Just a "nitpick" kind of. Pics are taken from the book "Guns of Outlaws: Weapons of the American Bad Man" pages 233-235.
So I had Enzo out and he was doing great. He was just resting in the palm of my hand and I thought I had good hold of him, but when I moved my thumb a bit he flinched and flew out of my hand. He landed on his back and immediately straightened out and started trying to get away. I scooped him up and instantly started crying and I checked him for injuries. He seems fine, he's stretching out completely and moving okay. There seems to be no bruising or injuries. But I feel so bad and I can't stop crying about it. I'm always so careful when I handle my snakes. Is he going to be okay? What should I look out for? My heart is broken for him
