Saturday, May 15, 2010
Friday, May 14, 2010
His feet hit flat and the weight of the tank on his back pushed him forward, almost knocked him face-first into the ground. He fell into a run and kept his balance. His footfalls thudded in time to his heartbeat. The hazmat's crinkly sounds and his panting breath formed an almost musical din he used to pace himself...
Brandon T Davidson Jr walked out of the Dale & Biedermann offices with a spring in his step. The merger negotiations between WestChem and PharmRX were going remarkably well - the deal was likely to be made within days and his bonus would be astronomical. This was not, however, the main cause of his good mood: that would soon be attached to his head and indistinguishable from his own hair...
It was always at the corner of the west side of the street where she went to sing. Every Monday morning at 7 a.m., while I sat drinking the first of many coffees of the day, I would see her. She would shuffle in her backless slippers to the entrance of the train station. She never looked at anyone, just walked with her head down as she moved to the left foot, right foot, do it all again beat until she reached the stool the news vendor had placed under the awning for her use. A guitar accompanied her musical notes of protest. They were Vietnam-era songs that baffled some of the commuters rushing to get to work...
A wizard scattered the king's army through time, many were stranded in small groups but was only one Knight in Bangkok.
He had heard about that new gel that heightened female arousal and simply assumed there was jewelry at the bottom of the container.
Trixie's Treats served the finest pies in all of Texas. Her secret? She always remembered the Ala Mode.
Everyone said he died doing what he loved. Nobody said he had been crushed trying to steal a Japanese used panty vending machine.
Abner Deggent bragged he had snapped the necks of at least one major species on each continent- sometimes even in self defense.
Everyone realized that cyborg superhero Rusty Johnson was in love when the saw him spot welding Erato's name on his own arm.
It was in the early years of the 21st century that the epic story of Man vs Nature began to resemble torture porn.
There was raw sewage in the copier room, an intern was on fire and the boss was off his meds. It was going to be a long Friday.
When the Wolf Man found out his wife was having an affair with one of the Cat People the fur flew.
Captain Hero had to admit that his encounter with the villain known as 'the Stain' had left quite an impression.
Once network execs realized the living dead watched television a 24 hour Jay Leno channel was the inevitable consequence.
When Karl asked her if she liked crabs she just assumed he was going to take her out to a nice seafood restaurant.
The Legion of Protectors were the first super hero team to recognize the awesome power of marketing.
The gunshot was deflected by the bag of macadamias in his pocket leaving Abner Deggent glad the bullet only grazed his nut sack.
Sunshine, lollipops and rainbows everywhere- this was the last time the team let Amazing Ed decorate their secret base.
The DM in the back said everyone attack and it turned into a Balrog blitz.
She was a magical princess, animals followed her and doted on her; her family learned to love the taste of venison and rabbit.
"If there is one thing I've learned it's that while marriage may be a lot of work it still isn't as much work as hiding a body."
Dagorax was a mad god gnawing mindlessly at the very fabric of the universe and it never, ever flossed
The Maven didn't like views of the villain called the Creationist but she had to admit his crimes were intelligently designed.
Zeth knew it was springtime in the city of Olathoe when revolutionaries began to sprout up everywhere, like dandelions in bad hats.
On his birthday Dave parachuted into Sturgis in a BIKERS ARE PUSSIES t-shirt. For those last few minutes he never felt so alive.
It was then that Reverend Brooks realized that being a right-wing anti-gay activist was a fantastic way to pick up guys.
Thursday, May 13, 2010
THE SCRAPYARD DIARIES
Innocent When You Dream
Al Bruno III
When I was young I was prone to fevers and nightmares, something that my doctors and my parents alike put down to a weak constitution and an overactive imagination. Even I grew older and stronger nightmares continued to plague me, nightmares that no drug could keep at bay, nightmares that frequently had me lashing out violently as I awoke.
As you can imagine when it came time for me to attend the University I felt I had no choice but to live alone. The lack of companionship only aided my focus on all things academic, my grades were strong and my instructors began to take a special interest in my academic progress.
Unfortunately in my second year of studies I began to experience incidents of sleepwalking and nocturnal violence. On four separate occasions campus security had to apprehend me.
This is how I came to the attention of Dr. Palatine, the University’s leading expert on the subject of sleep disorders. Perhaps it would be more appropriate to say I was placed under her care and supervision. She was a handsome woman with iron gray hair that was streaked with red, she wore thick glasses and spoke with an Eastern European accent. Dr. Palatine explained to me that she had just returned from a long sabbatical where she had been conducting what she called 'the purest research’.
Dr. Palatine shared with me her theories about the nature of REM sleep and the source of dream imagery in the collective unconscious. She requested I keep a journal and a tape recorder at my bedside but I must admit that the nature of my waking terrors left me with little clear or consistent information to impart.
This lack of hard data to work from led her to invite me to live with her. I felt I had no choice but to accept. Dr. Palatine lived in a crumbling brownstone several miles from the college campus. She made a room for me in her basement so that my night terrors could be controlled and monitored with the greatest care.
My first night and last night of observation began that ordeal that consumed my life. Dr. Palatine gave me a mild sedative and had me lie down on the cot she had prepared for me. She sat beside me in an uncomfortable looking, rust-colored chair, pen and notepad in hand.
Soon I was asleep and soon I found myself in the most lucid dream I had ever known. In the dream I found myself alone in the basement staring up at the single bare lightbulb that was the only illumination. Dr. Palatine and the rust colored chair were gone. A strange feeling of dislocation washed over me as I stood and walked up the basement stairs.
I found the cellar door had been locked from the outside but I felt no panic at this realization. What better way to curtail my nightly meanderings than a locked door? I rapped on the door and called for Dr. Palatine, when there was no answer I began to knock louder and louder. I called her name over and over but there was no answer.
The feeling of dislocation grew stronger and in my mind’s eye I saw myself beating at the door in ever-growing panic. I looked so small, like a forgotten child.
Without warning the basement door rattled on its hinges as though something had been thrown against it. Fingers scrabbled and grabbed through inch wide gap between the bottom of the doorframe and the floor; they were thin and covered with thick tufts of red hair. They scratched and scraped.
Even now you might assume that this was all some sophomoric prank but my every sense told me this was not the case. Whatever was on the other side of that door was bestial and twisted. The grasping of the fingers became more frantic as though it were searching for something precious that was just out of reach.
It was as though my every childhood nightmare was coming true. Hadn’t the fear of seeing this very personal incubus driven me to night terrors and fugues?
I screamed at it. The claw-like hand retreated, there was a moment when I thought it was about to retreat but then it began to sing. I cannot describe that voice, I do not know if that voice can be described. All I can say it that the sound that reached my ears was a loathsome crooning.
An image arose unbidden to my mind; that of the creature burbling nonsense, trying to lull the pink quivering shape at its breast to sleep.
Desperate to escape that sound I backed away only to lose my footing. I tumbled down the stairs striking my head and plunging my mind into merciful mindless darkness.
How long was it until I awoke again? I cannot say, but I do know that I blinked my eyes to see the basement door wide open. It took me some time to find the courage to mount the stairs but when I did I found myself in a barren house.
Of Dr. Palatine there was no trace, not only had she disappeared from her home she had also vanished from all University records. All my professors insisted there was no Dr. Palatine, that there had never been a Dr. Palatine.
The more I told my story the more I became a subject of derision and unease. I left the University in the middle of the semester never to return.
I found gainful employment far away from the University but I had lost the capacity to dream and with it I had lost all sense of certainty in the world around me. I began to fear that I no longer dreamed because I was still asleep in Dr. Palatine’s basement, that I had never awoken at all.
To help them achieve their goal of taking over the world, a megalomaniac Japanese businessman and his son recruit a vicious gang of Geisha assassins. These include two feisty sisters with an amazing range of surgically added weapons. But when one of these Robo-Geishas refuses to kill an innocent group of ex-employees, its butt-blades versus wig napalm and machine breasts against killer-cleaver socks as the assassins take on the Geisha's in one of the most mind-bending movie battles of all time."
The guy in the middle is a brave, brave man.
Tuesday, May 11, 2010
He always knew he would see her again, he just expected something more romantic than a paternity suit would bring them together.
The weirdest thing about the indie rock band 'The Fifty Fingers' is that it has seven members.
The weirdest thing about the indie rock band 'The Fifty Fingers' is that it has seven members.
In the 21st Century the newest death-defying extreme sport became making fun of major religions via cartoons.
There were a dozen deaths and a fire that claimed half the jungle but by God Abner Deggent got his lucky tie clip back.
It was a question every super hero on patrol faced- do they relieve themselves in an alley or used a risk using a public restroom?
The shouting contest was on a Tuesday but he showed up on Wednesday. A day late and a holler short.
A lot of people didn't like the idea of Lucy living with her parents but the family mausoleum was roomy and she saved money on rent.
Karl jumped at the chance to spend the night with a pair of sexy twins; he never thought to ask if they might be conjoined.
'Nietzsche' All Natural Male Enhancement drug, because that what does not kill us makes us longer...
When the red mist cleared I started to regret zip tying you to the light pole out in front of the house. Especially once the cops found you there, naked, on your knees, back to the pole, hands and ankles bound behind you, sporting those six fresh stitches in your dick that you tried to explain away as just a foolish night out with the boys on a business trip, you know how it is....
Harold C. Gregorian never invited recognition to rear its ugly head.
By trade he was a pencil pusher and worked the doldrums of the middle management ladder all the way up to Vice president of development for Hughes Research Laboratories in California. The event at The Continental was supposed to be special because his firm was celebrating their crowning achievment, the first working laser...
my dream was about a wide...a beautiful moving stream..
the image of angels.. of white angels re-living the turmoils...
In the dark-black soil of the ones that fail.....
the image appears in my mind when I'm awake as well...
when i think of you.. ..
the words that you have said to me in .. ..as arbitrarily.. as is my soul.
erased the beauty .. that I saw..
made as dark as the water..became .. .
after you waded in side of meaning...for us to see..
fanciful..is . quixotic..unreal what you say to me.
the meaning of what your words can be..
what your words mean .. .. a realization..a chimerical..
is the meaning that I see
in my dream..
I was a cocoon..a white cocoon..
I could not move..just going down the stream..
the meaning of what you said..
are as shrapnel embedded in my..thinking..
know that I would rather give up...
what you mean to me...
the love that I have for you...
all the good things that you are..
have been. I will give up..
Rather then believe what you are saying..
the line that you tow..
the understandings that you have are not for me...
not even for you... you just don't know....
YOU JUST DON'T KNOW........
and I say to myself- My God... are they going to get this right? I have a lot of faith in young Chloe Moretz...
I think I will let myself dare to hope... and pray to Hastur the story doesn't get THE WICKER MAN treatment...
Love waits for me across the ocean, abandoned more than once. Once I promised her there would be no more voyages, I would turn my hands to farming instead. Instead I sailed away from her. Her fidelity undiminished despite this broken pledge, she waits for me, a beacon to guide me back to land. Land is now but a memory, adrift I have been on these seas, a compass without a map, a star without a night's sky for weeks, nay, months...
Ekaterina aka Katya Grokhovskaya had started filming of Devil's Flower based on her original scenario in autumn of 2007. At the same month in February 2008 when she finished the shooting, director with the same name Catherine Hardwicke began filming of Twilight in Oregon.
During post-production Russian director ran out of money due to financial crisis. So the film Devil's Flower that should have been released before Twilight, had been frozen for about 2 years. By the end of 2008 Twilight had been released and got unexpected success...
Monday, May 10, 2010
In The Shadow Of His Nemesis
Chapter Sixty Three
BY AL BRUNO III
Friday December 3rd 1996
The dining room fireplace was dark but the conversation was more than a little heated; everyone at the table had either brought hard liquor or an empty stomach. The only calm person in the room was Isobel. “I'm going,” she stood before them, “they're depending on me and I'm going.”
“This is not a good idea,” Galen paced the room, “you'll get lost out there.”
“Then come with me.”
Warren was sitting beside Hao, when he spoke his voice was panicky, “Do you remember how hard the trip was to get here?”
Isobel nodded, “But we got here didn't we?”
There were only a few candles lit and the fireplace was cold and dark. Magwier was sitting in a chair near the corner, chewing his thumb and watching. Zeth stood nearby, he crossed his arms “One of us could go instead. Some of us can move a lot faster than you.”
“Sig wants me to do this,” Isobel said, “but I'll take all the help I can get.”
Bodivar leaned on the fireplace mantle and stared into a half empty glass, “Medicine may be of no help to her, as I said some viruses have to run their course.”
“He's got a point sis,” Warren said, “you could end up dying of exposure for nothing.”
“I can't tell you what to do, but just because the Monarchs can't find you doesn't mean they've forgotten about you,” Jack was leaning back in a chair, his feet were propped up. Roxanne was conspicuously absent from his side.
Isobel nodded, “I know....will you come with me Galen? We can be there and back by morning.”
Galen drained a glass and refilled it, “You sure about that?”
“Sig did it all the time.”
“He can make that risk,” Galen said slowly, “the minute I pop my head up all Hell will break loose again.”
“You can't be sure of that,” Isobel said, “they're not gods.”
Magwier cleared his throat noisily in response.
Everyone paused expecting him to say more but he didn't. “Come on guys,” Isobel pleaded, “Sig and Angie would do the same for any one of us.”
“You sure about that?” Galen said.
“I'm sure he would,” Hao spoke icily.
“Sorry,” Galen waved a hand, “I didn't mean anything it's just... I've been running from the Monarchs for so long. There isn't anyone they want more.”
With that Magwier cleared his throat again.
“What the Hell is this? We're all supposed to be friends here,” Isobel said, “I'll go alone if I have to.”
“We could make you stay here,” Bodivar spoke thoughtfully.
“None of us is going to make her do anything,” Jack glared.
Warren buried his face in his hands, “Christ what a mess...”
Zeth raised an eyebrow, “From what I've read he didn't know how to stay out of trouble either.”
“I'll go,” Hao stood and put her hand on Isobel’s shoulder.
“Oh Hell no,” Warren said.
“You worry too much.”
“Hao...” Galen said, “I don't want this to happen. Doesn’t the word of a Highborn mean anything to you?”
“Not in the least,” she grinned toothily, “besides if there's anyone that can get her up and down this mountain in the middle of the night it's me.”
“She is really good in the dark...” Warren started to say and then began silently blushing.
“What about her duties as Castellan?” Bodivar asked.
Now Jack stood, “I can take care of that if need be. No problem. You sure you want to do this?”
“Yes,” Hao nodded, “no doubt in my mind. The two of us will be just fine.”
Magwier cleared his throat violently.
“Oh.” Zeth said, “I’m coming too.”
Isobel gave him a confused look, “Really?”
“Well, I do have some experience as a bodyguard.”
“What a wonderful idea!” Magwier clapped his hands, “It’s settled then.”
Jack nodded, “I should be able to find supplies for the trip. Give me about half an hour.”
The three volunteers nodded with approval.
“Wait a damn minute here,” Galen said, “I don’t want her doing this.”
Isobel drew closer to him, “I have to. Just like before I have to do this.”
He turned away from her, “And how many of your friends will you get killed this time?”
Once the company found a doctor that prescribed medical marijuana for a case of the Mondays no one was ever late for work again.
Fuego worked as a substitute teacher and kept order in the classroom with quiet authority and the occasional sleeper hold.
She pulled aside the cushions of her new couch to find a mummified body. She whispered, "That's the last time I use Craigslist."
In his dreams Karl made love to a woman who was soft and warm in his arms; when he awoke his pillow was unspeakably squishy.
Sunday, May 9, 2010
Price Breaks and Heartaches
a journal of retail and failed romance
The Fries And The Fury
My duties increased, I began working every night shift and lunch rush, snatching a few pitiful hours of sleep whenever I could.. Somehow Mr. Powell managed to make this punishing schedule work without ever having to give a drop of overtime.
I probably wouldn’t have gone for it if they hadn’t given me employee of the month status. I loved the little gold badge I got to wear. I imagined Lilly coming in, looking up to see my picture on the wall near the registers and instantly becoming overcome with desire.
While I waited for that wonderful day I adapted myself to my new sleep schedule. After about a week of this the hallucinations began. Now these weren’t full blown miniature-Elvis-is-dancing-on-the-counter style hallucinations. These were spot-something-in-the-corner-of-my-eye-that-wasn’t-there hallucinations. I became very jumpy and that combined with falling asleep in the restroom began to slow me down.
In Mr. Prowse’s defense all he did at first was grumble about my shoddy mopping and window washing, he didn’t get really mad until the night I set the fry vats on fire.
Did I mention the next building over was a gas station?
Cleaning up the spilled shortening and chemical foam took all night and we barely got open in time for the lunch rush. I barely held on to my employee of the month status
Sadly a few days later I did something that cost me my status anyway.
Stuart had a bitchin’ new Mustang, red and sleek with the price sticker still in the window. “Jealous?” he asked.
“It’s nice.” I said. Our shift had ended a few minutes ago; everyone else had said their goodbyes and were on their way home.
“Nice? Nice?” He shook his head, “I should have known you wouldn’t be able to appreciate true awesomeness.”
“It’s just a car.”
“No your crap Monte Carlo is just a car, in fact it’s barely a car.” He got in and fired up the engine, it purred to life, “You hear that? That’s power.”
“Whatever.” I headed back to my beloved yet rusty Monte Carlo, calling out “Cops love red cars. You-”
A squeal of tires drowned out my voice as Stuart did a neutral drop and peeled out of the parking lot in a cloud of burnt rubber.
I started my car, the speakers came to life filling the car with the sounds of Cher’s top 40 hits; the 8-track had been stuck in there long before I got the car but now I couldn’t turn the damn thing off. The smoke from the Mustang’s tires wafted in through my windows. Back in high school my mechanic friend Corey had warned me that neutral drops were bad for a car’s engine and I liked thinking that after a few weeks of showing off Stuart might have to tow his precious car to the scrap yard.
“Besides, what is so impressive about a neutral drop?” I said to myself, “Anyone could do it. Even me. Just put the car in neutral, gun the engine and then shift into drive.”
The parking lot was empty except for the rats that had made the garbage dumpster their home. “Why not?” I said to myself as Cher sang about gypsies, tramps and thieves, “Why not?”
I put the car in neutral and pressed down on the pedal, the Monte Carlo’s engine didn’t purr, it sounded more like it was coughing up the world’s biggest hairball. I pressed down harder on the pedal knowing that I was about to put Stuart’s pissy little car to shame.
Grinning to myself I grabbed hold of the gearshift and threw the car into reverse.
Yes reverse. My car sailed backwards into the building next door.
Did I mention we were next to a gas station?
After the police had left and the tow truck had taken my car away I had to call my mother for a ride home. When I told her what had happened she had to pull her car over to the side of the road before hysterical laughter overcame her. The one good thing about the whole disaster was that it gave her a new story to tell about me at family gatherings. Just as well really, her tale of how I had once accidentally eaten paint was getting old.
Please don’t ask.
The acorn-like rock first appeared on Mother's Day; Tina vaguely remembers this, although not sure about the significance ...
Tina Marshall drives the same route every day. Back roads so that she can speed and not have to worry about patrolling state police cars. Thirty miles to work her job as a pediatric med tech at Haden General Hospital every day and then thirty miles back home; the same route, day in and day out. The familiar scenery passes her by each day like a well-known movie set...
French writer Georges Bataille said that "men are swayed by two simultaneous emotions: they are driven away by terror and drawn by an awed fascination. Taboo and transgression reflect these two contradictory urges. The taboo would forbid the transgression but the fascination compels it." That about sums it up for most people who have sought out The Human Centipede (First Sequence) -- and really, horror cinema in general...
The only complaint I have is that it only comes out once a week!