Author Topic: Three stories, short and true. / And misc writing, apparently.  (Read 1363 times)

Cardinal Pizza Deliverance.

  • Turbo-Charged Holder of the Involuntary Vasectomy Land Speed Record
  • Deserved It
  • ****
  • Posts: 72620
  • Gatling Geyser of Rainbow AIDS
    • View Profile
Three stories, short and true. / And misc writing, apparently.
« on: November 08, 2012, 08:54:49 am »
#1

Two rednecks walk into an eatery and order some subs, which in Georgia are called 'samichets'. This is inexplicable in the same way that all yellow cheese is cheddar and all soda is Coke and all beer is PBR. As their cheerful sandwich-maker prepares their food, a conversation springs up on the subject of tornadoes.

"Tornadoes are fun!" The sandwich-maker remarks with a winsome smile, "Growing up in Pennsylvania, I've had the pleasure of their company several times."

"Pennsylvania!?" The rednecks exchange a glance and then the taller of the two gives the sandwich-maker a suspicious stare and leans in close. "You ain't kissin' up on Obama's ass like all them other Pennsylvanians are, are ya? I can't stand that Muslim freak. I can't stand them people. They so ignorant."

"Why no! I'm more or less apolitical, really." The sandwich-maker says, trying not to fall over laughing, then sees their blank expressions and tries again. "I don't care one way or the other."

"Ah, well. Maybe you should just make our samichets," says the tall redneck and turns his back to the sandwich-maker to begin a loud conversation about God and guns with his shorter, hirsute companion.

Some minutes later, when the subs are finished and presented to the customers, the taller fellow offers an apology.

"I didn't mean to be insulting. Being from Pennsylvania is okay, I guess. At least you ain't from Commie-fornia! But you should just stick to makin' samitchets. God bless you."

#2

After seven months or more without speaking a mother, moved by the birth of her third grandchild and first grandson, calls her own oldest child. This child is a rebellious daughter living far away from the comforting confines of pig farms, strip mines, and an ever-growing family of mentally unbalanced alcoholics.

As they chat, somewhat tentatively, the mother talks about how she still can't find work after two and a half years and the unemployment has run out. Everything is fine except she has no money because her husband keeps it all for beer. And then she fills her daughter in on how her three younger brothers are doing.

The oldest of three has finally moved out and his living with his baby-mama in a far away city, about an hour's drive away. He has a job for the first time and is working double shifts when he can. This is a major improvement from drinking, smoking pot, and smacking his mother around.

The middle brother is much less of an alcoholic than he used to be. He hasn't gotten a DUI or taken out a tree with his pick-up truck in months. He's got a job, but he still lives at home, though he gets to see his two kids every other weekend so that's okay because the mother gets to see them as well. Such a blessing.

The youngest boy has a new girlfriend who is a batshit crazy cling-on and they live together only twenty minutes away in the first real town one can come to in that neck of the woods. It's a change from the 50+ woman he was dating which is good. But he's having trouble staying in college, which is bad. And the girl he's with is crazy, which is also troubling. But hey, he's moved out and all so awesome.

Then the mother asks the daughter how her life is going. The daughter talks about her job, the decent pay and health insurance. She brings up her writing and her happy relationship of two years, the expansion of her skills in various crafts.

And then her mother chimes in. "Well. That's good. At least you aren't working a street corner somewhere. Oh by the way, that box of toys you sent for your brother's daughters hasn't gotten here yet, so you have a mission. Fix that. I hope we can talk again soon, bye."

#3

A man walks up to a woman who is wrapping yarn around pointy sticks in an intricate pattern that appears to be resulting in some sort of fabric.

"Say, that's pretty neat. What do you call that? Is it crochet? My mother used to crochet before she got too busy raising us kids."

"No," says the woman, not glancing up from her project, "This is knitting. Two or more needles with pointed ends. Crochet is one hook."

"Oh, well. That's cool too. You could sell that, you know. What are you making? A hat?"

"I'm making a hexagon and when I finish it, I will make another. It's an easily transportable project, and when I have enough of them, I will sew them together into a quilt."

"Are you going to sell it?"

"It isn't feasible, really. No one would pay what it is worth. Each hexagon takes about thirty minutes. If I charge $10 an hour, which is cheap for skilled labor, it would be ten times two hundred hours for the work alone. That's $2,000. Which doesn't count the cost of the yarn, another $100 or so."

"Oh," the man says, scowling and walking away. "I guess you're wasting your time then.
« Last Edit: November 09, 2012, 06:32:01 am by Cardinal Pizza Deliverance. »
Weevil-Infested Badfun Wrongsex Referee From The 9th Earth
Slick and Deranged Wombat of Manhood Questioning
Hulking Dormouse of Lust and DESPAIR™
Gatling Geyser of Rainbow AIDS

"The only way we can ever change anything is to look in the mirror and find no enemy." - Akala  'Find No Enemy'.

Cardinal Pizza Deliverance.

  • Turbo-Charged Holder of the Involuntary Vasectomy Land Speed Record
  • Deserved It
  • ****
  • Posts: 72620
  • Gatling Geyser of Rainbow AIDS
    • View Profile
Re: Three stories, short and true.
« Reply #1 on: November 09, 2012, 06:31:08 am »
Inspired by the Open Bar thread and NaNoWriMo-procastination. Probably NSFW.




In the bar, you thought it was sexy, how she kept her shades on, peering at you now and again over the rims. Giving you the tiniest glimpses of her dark eyes. Contacts, you thought, and admired how the eyes and sunglasses set off the cascade of honey brown curls falling even with the end of her sternum.

You really wanted to touch that hair, back in the bar. It looked so soft, and shone with gold highlights. It almost seemed to have a life of its own as the coils spilled over one another when she turned to take delicate sips of her drink, demurely facing away from you as she did so.

And though she wore gloves, feminine and delicate; closing with a pearl button just where her hand met the wrist, you could feel the heat of her skin when she laid her hand on your arm. You could see the same heat in the curve of her body towards yours when she gave you her full attention as you spoke.

So now you find yourself in her house. Watching her sway around the perimeter of the room, lighting candles set on bookshelves, wall sconces, and the mantle over the dimly glowing fireplace.

She throws you a smile over her shoulder and your heart jumps into your throat.

“I’ll be right back. Make yourself at home. Just slipping into something more comfortable.”

“S-sure!”

And you can barely decide what to do with yourself while you wait. Sit down, stand up, take off your jacket and unbutton your polo shirt. Sit back down and fidget impatiently.

When she emerges from some other room, she’s wearing a semi-sheer robe. And nothing else. You notice how her skin is just as soft-looking as her hair. And how she smiles, showing you a dazzling set of teeth beneath those luscious red lips.

She holds her hands out and turns, showing you everything, almost.
“What do you think?”

You know the answer to this one, you’re not an idiot. “You’re beautiful. A goddess come to earth.”

This makes her laugh. She throws her head back and you watch her throat move in time with the sweet sound she makes.

Then you notice her hands, folded over her stomach while she laughs. And her fingertips are black, somewhat stubby, though her fingers are still elegant, for they filled the gloves perfectly, didn’t they?

Her head lowers and she looks at you. In the candle light you can see, behind her black eyes, two glowing red flecks in each one.

“I don’t get out much,” she says, slinking over to your chair and sinking side-ways into your lap, wrapping her arms around your neck. “I was so happy to meet you. I hope you’re enjoying yourself.”

Less sure of things than you were a minute ago, you reply anyway. “S-sure! Sure am.”

“Such a sweetheart.”

Her fingers trail down your cheek and you realize they’re leaving a trail of char. And you realize her breasts, full and lovely, are also blackened where the nipples should be. Her toes, one foot caressing your calf, are black. Her earlobes.

As she leans in to kiss you, you see past the gates of her teeth for the first time. And her tongue is not charred. Twin heads extend from the tip of that delicate tongue, twining their necks together as she parts your lips and kisses you.

Those heads enter your mouth, pulling the tongue along behind them like a straining tether. The tiny mouths open and clamp on to the insides of your cheeks. Quicker than you can scream, you are numb and drowsy. Eager, with such a lovely creature in your lap.

She ends the kiss and pulls back, shrugging the robe off at the shoulders, though it’s still wrapped tightly around her hips and thighs. Her breasts slip free and their singed tips leave spots of ash on your shirt.

“I did try,” she says, resting her forehead against yours, letting the creatures behind her eyes stare deep into your skull. Her eyes are merely dark tinted glass, clear as beer bottles. “Steel and fire. But they just kept coming back.”

She sighs, wriggling closer against your body. Automatically you put your arms around her, your hands on that skin. Beneath it, serpentine shapes roll like muscles and she stretches in your grip, shifting her body to allow the inhabitants easier access to where they want to go.

“They get so restless when I bring a friend home,” she says, her speech taking on a faint lisp. “Usually, it’s because they’re hungry. It’s hard to digest food with a belly full of these things.”

“Huu-huu-how?” You manage, cringing inside your head at the roiling flesh you can’t let go of.

“So sweet of you to ask,” she coos, laying her head on your shoulder and kissing your cheek, just a quick peck. She wraps her arms around you again and settles in.

“At first we thought it was cancer. Then some parasite I picked up on a trip to Greece. I had two surgeries. A hysterectomy to remove a mass that couldn’t be biopsied. And brain surgery to remove another tumor from between my eyes. They went in from the top of my head so there wouldn’t be a scar. You can’t even see it now.”

She sighs, drooping in your arms. “Maybe if they’d cauterized the tissue surrounding the  affected areas more thoroughly this wouldn’t have happened. I just don’t know. My little friends just kept growing back, more insistent. Aggressive really, every time. They whispered to me no matter how I drugged myself or hurt them. Begging me to accept my fate, to let them in. Even in my sleep. Every waking moment. Until I finally gave up. But we’re so lonely. That’s where you come in.”

Sliding out of your lap, she kneels, undoing your pants and pulling them off. She keeps one hand planted on your chest to keep you from sliding out of the chair as she tugs. Pinning you in place, as if you could move, which you can’t.

Then she stands and sheds the robe. Two heads on slender necks peep out shyly from between her thighs.

“Don’t be afraid. And don’t struggle. You don’t want to excite them too much, darling.”

As she sits in your lap again, you wish you could scream.
Weevil-Infested Badfun Wrongsex Referee From The 9th Earth
Slick and Deranged Wombat of Manhood Questioning
Hulking Dormouse of Lust and DESPAIR™
Gatling Geyser of Rainbow AIDS

"The only way we can ever change anything is to look in the mirror and find no enemy." - Akala  'Find No Enemy'.

LMNO, PhD (life continues)

  • Internet Fuckweasel of Haunted Pork Dimensions.
  • Deserved It
  • ****
  • Posts: 82330
  • Internet Fuckweasel of Haunted Pork Dimensions.
    • View Profile
    • Earfatigue Productions: When it has to sound like you give a shit.
Re: Three stories, short and true. / And misc writing, apparently.
« Reply #2 on: November 09, 2012, 01:47:01 pm »
More of that, please.
LMNO
Pope/Wrought Iron Instigator
First Church of Last Exit Before Toll
The Spider Project.

Buy the Chao te Ching, or be doomed forever.

http://www.stonybrook.edu/sb/marburger/index.shtml

"Get offa me, you freaks!  This is not North Korea.  No.  This is America, and I expect to be PAID for that sort of nonsense.  In advance.  No credit...Cash on the barrelhead or GTFO.  I swear to God, there's nothing more annoying than commie perverts who don't understand the intrinsic value of the free market system."

The Right Reverend Nigel

  • Deserved It
  • ****
  • Posts: 604995
  • v=1/3πr2h
    • View Profile
Re: Three stories, short and true. / And misc writing, apparently.
« Reply #3 on: November 09, 2012, 03:27:03 pm »
Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeek!!!!!!!!!!
“I’m guessing it was January 2007, a meeting in Bethesda, we got a bag of bees and just started smashing them on the desk,” Charles Wick said. “It was very complicated.”

“People get used to anything. The less you think about your oppression, the more your tolerance for it grows. After a while, people just think oppression is the normal state of things. But to become free, you have to be acutely aware of being a slave.”
― Assata Shaku

Cardinal Pizza Deliverance.

  • Turbo-Charged Holder of the Involuntary Vasectomy Land Speed Record
  • Deserved It
  • ****
  • Posts: 72620
  • Gatling Geyser of Rainbow AIDS
    • View Profile
Re: Three stories, short and true. / And misc writing, apparently.
« Reply #4 on: November 12, 2012, 10:20:24 am »
Fuckity-fuck. Wrote a story and the internet ate it.
Weevil-Infested Badfun Wrongsex Referee From The 9th Earth
Slick and Deranged Wombat of Manhood Questioning
Hulking Dormouse of Lust and DESPAIR™
Gatling Geyser of Rainbow AIDS

"The only way we can ever change anything is to look in the mirror and find no enemy." - Akala  'Find No Enemy'.

The Good Reverend Roger

  • Dirtbag
  • One-Armed Jizz Moppers
  • Deserved It
  • **
  • Posts: 35118
    • View Profile
Re: Three stories, short and true. / And misc writing, apparently.
« Reply #5 on: November 12, 2012, 01:40:21 pm »
This stuff is awesome.  Especially the bit about the two rednecks in the shop.
"What can we do to help you stop screaming?"

Cardinal Pizza Deliverance.

  • Turbo-Charged Holder of the Involuntary Vasectomy Land Speed Record
  • Deserved It
  • ****
  • Posts: 72620
  • Gatling Geyser of Rainbow AIDS
    • View Profile
Re: Three stories, short and true. / And misc writing, apparently.
« Reply #6 on: November 12, 2012, 07:19:25 pm »
This stuff is awesome.  Especially the bit about the two rednecks in the shop.

They came back a week after that incident and were giving the same spiel to a co-worker, a man. They said something about how I should be in the kitchen, shouldn't I? I laughed and went on my way. I haven't seen them since the election.
Weevil-Infested Badfun Wrongsex Referee From The 9th Earth
Slick and Deranged Wombat of Manhood Questioning
Hulking Dormouse of Lust and DESPAIR™
Gatling Geyser of Rainbow AIDS

"The only way we can ever change anything is to look in the mirror and find no enemy." - Akala  'Find No Enemy'.

The Good Reverend Roger

  • Dirtbag
  • One-Armed Jizz Moppers
  • Deserved It
  • **
  • Posts: 35118
    • View Profile
Re: Three stories, short and true. / And misc writing, apparently.
« Reply #7 on: November 12, 2012, 07:20:28 pm »
This stuff is awesome.  Especially the bit about the two rednecks in the shop.

They came back a week after that incident and were giving the same spiel to a co-worker, a man. They said something about how I should be in the kitchen, shouldn't I? I laughed and went on my way. I haven't seen them since the election.

Georgia, right?
"What can we do to help you stop screaming?"

Cardinal Pizza Deliverance.

  • Turbo-Charged Holder of the Involuntary Vasectomy Land Speed Record
  • Deserved It
  • ****
  • Posts: 72620
  • Gatling Geyser of Rainbow AIDS
    • View Profile
Re: Three stories, short and true. / And misc writing, apparently.
« Reply #8 on: November 12, 2012, 07:23:18 pm »
This stuff is awesome.  Especially the bit about the two rednecks in the shop.

They came back a week after that incident and were giving the same spiel to a co-worker, a man. They said something about how I should be in the kitchen, shouldn't I? I laughed and went on my way. I haven't seen them since the election.

Georgia, right?

Yep.
Weevil-Infested Badfun Wrongsex Referee From The 9th Earth
Slick and Deranged Wombat of Manhood Questioning
Hulking Dormouse of Lust and DESPAIR™
Gatling Geyser of Rainbow AIDS

"The only way we can ever change anything is to look in the mirror and find no enemy." - Akala  'Find No Enemy'.

The Good Reverend Roger

  • Dirtbag
  • One-Armed Jizz Moppers
  • Deserved It
  • **
  • Posts: 35118
    • View Profile
Re: Three stories, short and true. / And misc writing, apparently.
« Reply #9 on: November 12, 2012, 07:24:02 pm »
This stuff is awesome.  Especially the bit about the two rednecks in the shop.

They came back a week after that incident and were giving the same spiel to a co-worker, a man. They said something about how I should be in the kitchen, shouldn't I? I laughed and went on my way. I haven't seen them since the election.

Georgia, right?

Yep.

AH WAS JES FUNNIN, LIL THANG.
\
:mullet:
"What can we do to help you stop screaming?"

Cardinal Pizza Deliverance.

  • Turbo-Charged Holder of the Involuntary Vasectomy Land Speed Record
  • Deserved It
  • ****
  • Posts: 72620
  • Gatling Geyser of Rainbow AIDS
    • View Profile
Re: Three stories, short and true. / And misc writing, apparently.
« Reply #10 on: November 12, 2012, 07:32:15 pm »
This stuff is awesome.  Especially the bit about the two rednecks in the shop.

They came back a week after that incident and were giving the same spiel to a co-worker, a man. They said something about how I should be in the kitchen, shouldn't I? I laughed and went on my way. I haven't seen them since the election.

Georgia, right?

Yep.

AH WAS JES FUNNIN, LIL THANG.
\
:mullet:

Pretty much accurate, down to the mullet. We're fairly close to Athens and Atlanta but have that tiny town glory of being filled with complete redneck assholes. Luckily, they have not figured out I am laughing at them, not with them. But then, I need to rephrase what I say half the time.

I told a customer it sounded as if she'd had a tumultuous experience regarding some vacation she went on that turned into a disaster. I had to explain I meant it sounded like she'd had a rough time. I told my boss he was exacerbating the issue between two co-workers and he told me to shut up or speak English.
Weevil-Infested Badfun Wrongsex Referee From The 9th Earth
Slick and Deranged Wombat of Manhood Questioning
Hulking Dormouse of Lust and DESPAIR™
Gatling Geyser of Rainbow AIDS

"The only way we can ever change anything is to look in the mirror and find no enemy." - Akala  'Find No Enemy'.

The Good Reverend Roger

  • Dirtbag
  • One-Armed Jizz Moppers
  • Deserved It
  • **
  • Posts: 35118
    • View Profile
Re: Three stories, short and true. / And misc writing, apparently.
« Reply #11 on: November 12, 2012, 07:34:30 pm »
Pretty much accurate, down to the mullet. We're fairly close to Athens and Atlanta but have that tiny town glory of being filled with complete redneck assholes. Luckily, they have not figured out I am laughing at them, not with them.

Interesting thing:  Go to Youtube and watch/listen to James Brown's Living in America video (from Rocky IV), with the idea in mind that he's not being hyper-patriotic, he's laughing at us.
"What can we do to help you stop screaming?"

Cardinal Pizza Deliverance.

  • Turbo-Charged Holder of the Involuntary Vasectomy Land Speed Record
  • Deserved It
  • ****
  • Posts: 72620
  • Gatling Geyser of Rainbow AIDS
    • View Profile
Re: Three stories, short and true. / And misc writing, apparently.
« Reply #12 on: November 12, 2012, 07:52:46 pm »
Pretty much accurate, down to the mullet. We're fairly close to Athens and Atlanta but have that tiny town glory of being filled with complete redneck assholes. Luckily, they have not figured out I am laughing at them, not with them.

Interesting thing:  Go to Youtube and watch/listen to James Brown's Living in America video (from Rocky IV), with the idea in mind that he's not being hyper-patriotic, he's laughing at us.

I think he's got the right idea.
Weevil-Infested Badfun Wrongsex Referee From The 9th Earth
Slick and Deranged Wombat of Manhood Questioning
Hulking Dormouse of Lust and DESPAIR™
Gatling Geyser of Rainbow AIDS

"The only way we can ever change anything is to look in the mirror and find no enemy." - Akala  'Find No Enemy'.

Eater of Clowns

  • Deposed Mexico
  • Deserved It
  • ****
  • Posts: 48419
  • Limpid Lust Pariah of Foulness
    • View Profile
Re: Three stories, short and true. / And misc writing, apparently.
« Reply #13 on: November 12, 2012, 09:25:31 pm »
Love this stuff, CPD!
EoC, you are the bane of my existence.

EoC doesn't make creepy.

EoC makes creepy worse.

Quote
the afflicted persons get hold of and consume carrots even in socially quite unacceptable situations.

Cardinal Pizza Deliverance.

  • Turbo-Charged Holder of the Involuntary Vasectomy Land Speed Record
  • Deserved It
  • ****
  • Posts: 72620
  • Gatling Geyser of Rainbow AIDS
    • View Profile
Re: Three stories, short and true. / And misc writing, apparently.
« Reply #14 on: November 12, 2012, 09:52:52 pm »
[The 'play' button is pressed. At first the cassette plays a series of whistles, clicks, screeches, and a peculiar metallic rasping. Eventually, a woman's voice can be distinguished from the noise. She sounds like a mature woman, perhaps late-forties, early-fifties. Her speech varies from strong, clear diction and hoarse muttering.]

"Sorry about that. They bring me these toys and want me to explain them. Sometimes it's just easier to demonstrate."

[More noise follows, including no few expletives from the woman and that peculiar metallic rasping, now louder. The tape stops and stars several times as various noises are recorded and, presumably for the 'they' earlier mentioned. The tape resumes after several moments of hissing static punctuate by a trilling burble and three loud clicks. When the tape resumes, the original woman's voice returns, sounding stronger and less harsh.]

"All right. Now that they understand, sort of, my work here is done. But - [a pause filled with a heavy sigh and static] - it was refreshing to hear another voice. Even if it was just my own. I may keep this toy. If I can find more tapes."

"After everything that's happened, I'm amazed at how curious they are. Almost like kittens with a basket of balls. Some balls jingle, some rattle, some light up, some bounce, and some fly. They are determined to suss out every kind of ball in the basket. And then find another basket."

[The woman chuckles and then coughs. Again, metallic rasping can be heard, this time as if it is scraping over something soft and then clashing against another metallic object.]

"Gah, this is such a bitch. You never notice how much a handicap has affected you until you can't do something simple like cover your mouth when you cough. I can just imagine what wiping my ass would be like if I didn't have the hot pools to slip into afterwards. It boils everything right off and you come out feeling like a brand new baby."

[More coughing fills the next several minutes, dry and hacking. Metal rasping becomes louder and the tape clicks off.]

. . .

[A click and then static before the woman’s voice returns, sounding exhausted and congested. Small bouts of coughing punctuates every pause. A hissing noise, similar to boiling water can be heard in the background, as well as several different drips and an occasional far-off high-pitched burst of sound.]

“They mean well, I think. After everything. But we all know . . . I’m on my last legs. And I’ve already given up my hands, so this is probably it. I’d almost be willing to go to the surface . . . if I thought there was a surface left. If I thought I wouldn’t be dissected. Or just plain executed. I don’t expect to tell my story to anyone who cares, so an unfeeling machine may as well hear it.”

[A series of splashes fill the tape and then a surging in the hissing bubbling noise. The woman sighs, her breath hitching at the end as she coughs.]
“When I was little I wanted to be a housewife. A stay at home mother, tending her children, house, and husband. Maybe grow roses. Or lilacs. I’ve always been partial to lilac.”

[She stops talking and the background noises can be heard more clearly. The sounds of water in various states, the shrill screams and cackles. The sound of something heavy being moved across a hard surface. These noises, except for the water, recede into the background over the course of several minutes.]

“There. They’ve gone out again. Who knows what they’ll come back with next time. There are only a handful left. I think they’re waiting for me to die. They disappear one at a time and . . . I don’t think the fights are continuing. I haven’t seen the strange man or heard sounds of fighting. I certainly haven’t had my own youngling dumped in my lap like so many pounds of gutted fish.”

[Water sounds; the hissing boil, steady drips, a far-off rushing; are present. Almost imperceptibly, the sounds of quiet sobbing joins these noises. Eventually, the woman’s voice returns, rougher now.]

“It went wrong when I betrayed them. But they’d taken my hands and that man had tried to warn me. It went worse when I turned on those humans who were trying to fight them.

But the humans had promised not to hurt my little one. And they gutted him. Brought him to me like a trophy. Telling me they did me a favor, killing the one that bit off my hands. I tried . . . I tried to explain it was only because they’d become infected from all the cuts.

All the junk I’d been handling for the creatures, sorting it into piles, explaining how it worked. My baby hadn’t meant any harm. He just hadn’t wanted me to die from the infection. But they killed him anyway.”

[A long pause punctuated with coughing.]

“Now there’s nothing left. Not of me, not of my baby, not of the battle. I don’t even know how it ended. Who won? Why didn’t they just kill me, too?

But the answer to that one is obvious. Too stubborn to die. The good die young and I’ve never been that. Not good enough, anyway. It’s a sad thing, to look back and feel you’ve failed at every turning point.

When we’re in the moment, all we can do is act on the information we have, do what we think is right. We try not to act rashly, try to be cautious . . . but then we cage ourselves in cotton and concern. If we submit, dive in head first and commit fully to every day and every situation . . . well then when things go horribly wrong . . . and they will . . . we have the regrets to haunt us.
Sometimes I don’t think there is a right way - a least painful way. Sometimes I think the whole universe is spun of different flavors of pain, all of them heart-breaking and all of the awful. But our only choice is to pick our flavor and eat it.”

[The metallic rasping comes again and the tape is shut off with a harsh click.]


Weevil-Infested Badfun Wrongsex Referee From The 9th Earth
Slick and Deranged Wombat of Manhood Questioning
Hulking Dormouse of Lust and DESPAIR™
Gatling Geyser of Rainbow AIDS

"The only way we can ever change anything is to look in the mirror and find no enemy." - Akala  'Find No Enemy'.