Husk

As we pulled away from my house, the car doors locked automatically. Nothing really frightening, just standard procedure in cars today so I wasn’t worried. She pulled down the street and took a left. She hadn’t been in the area in a while, so perhaps she had forgot that the usual Tim Horton’s was actually to the right. But then I thought she might have been going to the new one out by the highway. It was the least busy of them and we certainly wouldn’t be seen by anyone, which I think is what we both wanted considering the situation.

Yet when she pulled onto the highway I looked at her with what I hoped was only curiosity and not the fear that seemed to be growing in me; spreading fast.

“Oh,” she said with a shrug and a smile, “I forgot to tell you. I’m kidnaping you.”

The truth of her statement sank into me the farther we got from home. After a couple hours on the highway she finally pulled off into a little town that seemed quiet and deserted. The majority of the trip had been silent except for the music on the radio and there were still no words spoken now. She drove with a purpose; glancing at me with a smile every few minutes. But I was still quite uneasy about my whole ‘abduction’.

As natural as if she was following a predetermined past she directed us through the streets of the peaceful town to an unknown goal. The streets were empty. The homes were dark and slumbering, huddled close against the cold. I got the feeling that we were invading into an unsuspecting body; like the noise of the engine would destroy this tranquil serenity. Maybe someone would wake and rescue me.

Soon the sky was lit with the glow of disgusting neon lights which drew the eye instantly. The flashing reds, blues, and yellows were both inviting and revolting. As we got closer, the brightest of the flashes read ‘Vacancy’. The feeling in my stomach didn’t ease up when she started to slow down. It was late into the night so there were already a few cars settled into the spots outside the rooms. Most of the windows were dark except for a room on the end and the office which was part of an attached house.

She parked in a spot across from the office and smiled widely at me as she turned off the car. “I’ll be right back, okay?” she said as she pulled the key from the ignition and stuck it into her coat pocket. As she went into the office I got out of the car to stretch my legs.

I also took the time to weigh my options. I know in general where I was and could probably make it to the highway from here. It was a small town so signs pointing the way should be easy to find. The only problem was I’d have to walk which would be pointless for an escape. I leaned against the car and looked into the large window of the office to see a middle-aged woman hand my abductor a set of keys with a smile. Everyone was all smiles but me.

How do I get myself into these things?

Why do I get myself into these things?

Her footsteps announced her presence as she walked up beside me. “I got us a room,” there was a cheery tone in her voice, “Are you ready?”

I sighed inwardly and tried to a smile on my face.

“I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.”

When I woke the next morning I felt ill. I knew I wasn’t sick but still my stomach certainly remembered better days. We were entwined together on the bed in an artistic and comfortable way. Her head was on my chest with her hands tucked under me. I closed my eyes to stop the spinning ceiling. Instead of calming darkness I was greeted with momentary images from last night. Her overpowering my lackluster reluctance. My body succumbing to practiced action and not desire. I became the pilot of a puppet where I couldn’t pull the strings. A third person with a first person view.

I did what she thought I wanted to do. But I only did it because she wanted me to. She was sleeping peacefully; content.

Happy.

The drive home was silent. Her face still wearing a wide smile from last night. The music was loud. The way she liked it. She sang and smiled, drumming on my leg with her off hand to a beat I couldn’t really listen to. I wasn’t in control of things. I wasn’t in control of myself. Who was pulling the strings?

When she dropped me off she kissed me. I looked around to see if anyone was watching. On the walk up to the front door I tried to find a reason for last night. I couldn’t come up with anything.

There was no reason at all. I felt empty.

I felt like nothing.

Yet still. If I was nothing more than an empty shell, a husk, then who is in control.

Who is pulling my strings?

masturbation

It just goes to show, that if you need something done right, you have to do it yourself.....

driving

Me: *tapping her leg in beat with the song

Her: *harshly throwing my hand off her leg and back towards me" I'm NOT your drum you know!

Me: Really? Then why do I get to bang you all the time?

Her: .......Touche....

Proposition: The present is absent

The present is nothing more than the sum of the past with the anticipation of the future

There is no present other than re-presentation

The present is only retroactive

Fuck it - it's snowing

The weekend was uneventful

Watched a couple friends argue constantly for hours on end over the same small and insignificant point.

Insomnia rocks

It's stupid when you mean one thing, but someone else takes it to mean another. Then once they miss the point completely you have no way of getting them to see what you meant because it would then hurt their feelings and that is not what you want to do. But if they keep on believing in what you didn't mean then they'll get hurt worse.

300

Excellent entertainment.

Of course I noticed the sly plausibility of releasing a movie about slaying Persians during a continuing conflict where people are slaying Persians. Discussed this with my wicker counter-part.

Wished for a moment I could have slayed the Persian I had as one of my roommates in second year - that jack ass.

A couple days later I discussed with an American friend the interesting concept of releasing a "pro-war" movie about slaying Persians during the recent time of history.

He just didn't get it.

Either way - great entertainment and worth the bucks I spent to see it.

It's all bullshit and buttplugs

I have problems.

Big deal?

No, not at all.

Everyone has problems.

Mine seem more important to me because they're mine.

Will I share them with you?

Probably not.

Besides

Who really fucking cares when the chips are down anyway?

I will admit that I've become quite selfish.

I used to live my life making someone else happy. Through that I found my own happiness. That person then pissed on me and from what I can tell has done nothing but piss on our past ever since. I'm sorry I was not as important as you made me feel. I'm sorry for what you make me feel I did a lot of things wrong but you never told me so that we had the chance to fix it.

I used to think you were far more mature than I was. I can see now though that I was probably quite wrong. Why not? From what I understand, being wrong is the only thing I get right.

Which is why life is nothing but bullshit and buttplugs.

Why's that you ask?

Because if someone isn't trying to feed you bullshit, they're certianly trying to get somewhere you don't want them to be.....

Fucking essays....

What's the big deal

So many people are up in arms. Oh the controversy! Not our boy wizard! Oh my god, how could he? My son saw this picture and was really confused.

Or at least that's what you'd hear on the news.


Show the same picture to a group of women that I work with - all old enough to be mothers (so 14 - 58 considering where I live but they're not allowed to work where I work till they're at least 16 or 17 so they already have toddlers - but I digress) then you hear sentences that will make a sailor blush. I've heard rude comments before and have even said some....but holy shit are women worse than I've ever been.

And they say that I was guilty of sexual harrassment...

***EDIT*** Apparently Photobucket didn't like the pic so they took it away....

Apocrypha presents: The Search for the Next Pussy

Ahhhh, the Pussycat Dolls. Has there ever been a more blatant mixture of spank bank material? Well probably not ones that can "sing" anyway. Their songs I hear are even catchy but what would I know as I watch them on mute. I think their most known song is "Don't Cha" contains that awesome lyric "Don't cha wish your girlfriend took a shot like me?". Now that's a good song!



Well it seems that this platter of tits and ass wants to take reality televsion in a whole new erection with their Idol-esque show: The Pussycat Dolls Presents: The Search for the Next Doll. What better way to raise more attention then to put on a bigger display. Gotta love the media. Just when you thought you had enough Pussy's they realize that you need to have another. That gives you one Pussy for each day of the week...though I doubt they would really hold anything against you if you wanted to have more than one at a time.

Honestly! Do you think these girls bother about sharing? They look primed for group activity.





I might even watch this show...on mute...in the dark...alone....with a bottle of....nevermind.

Here's some teaser photos to help prove my point.

Practice! Practice! Practice! If you can do it on your knees you can do it anywhere!


This one's so used to having black things stuck near her mouth she looks bored!


Personally I want this one. I like the flexible ones.