Aztec Princess Part Two: Near and Far

I was chewing on a…what is it…a long stalk of wheat? I didn't know if it was really wheat or if it was just one of those damned plant, weed, yellow things that grow with those damned things that stick in your socks and poke you and hurt you.

I was chewing on a long, yellow stalk with feathery blossomings at the end, like they did in the old days.

I was wearing rolled up jeans, a beat up cool white shirt with a picture of Christian Bale on it (some would say it was a picture of Batman…not me), a red cool trucker hat that was pushed way back on my fuckin' head. Well I was barefoot of course, and my feet were dirty. I was a regular ole American joe working the fields these days, and life was good except my mind kept reminding me of a certain someone, and my mind reminding me kept hurting my heart about that certain someone.

I was lying back in the soft golden land of the rancher I worked for: he was a real nice ole fuck ya know? There I lay looking up at the perfect blue sky. The plane that watered the fields was due any minute. It was a hot day, so I was looking forward to this little field shower. I thought about getting naked, but the rancher had damned kids. I heard the plane a-roarin' and a-tumblin' down the line; down that ole atmosphere; down that beautiful sky; fighting all that gravity; and my mind wandered away and away into the deep blue sky—maybe even to outer space. I used to think it was spelled "outterspace." Otter.

It had been a long time since I had been deported from Mexico and back into the ole U.S. of A. as they call it. I missed my Aztec princess Lizette. Feisty Lizette. I missed her beautiful face and her long legs and her torso and her breasts and her…her fuckin' hair man. Her SMELL man! I missed her sex, the way she could really fuck me. And I missed the way she would lick words into my fuckin' ear.

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! I was jolted from my mental masturbations. I sat up scared as all hell.

"HOLY SHIT!" I yelled, "Mista Smith! Yo plane be coming down! It ain't got no wings no mo!" The plane's wings had been blown off somehow, and off the plane went over a hill or mountain to crash, as I saw the pilot jump out without a parachute. He landed on his feet.

Next thing I heard…

"Hey you fucking beaner! Hey you fucking beaner! What you doing on ole man Smith's land? Scoot! Get the fuck off his fucking land you fucking beaner!" From like five angry KKK dudes. They were really a rot to this beautiful Tennessee land.

"Why you ignant mo'fuckin' white trash, shit breath, incest lovin' piece-o-shit alkies! You call me beaner one mo' time and I fuck all y'all up!" I stood up and started making my way to the white pack, but they parted and surrounded me. Shit. I put my dukes up.

They drew it out nice and long, "B-E-A-N-E-R…beaner beaner pants on fire! Beaner beaner pants on fire! Beaner beaner pants on fire!" I don't even know what that meant, but they just kept on yelling. So I ran at the stupidest looking one, but before I could clock him a good one on his missing rotten teeth I blacked out.

I woke up in Mexico.

"Holy hell," I had a pounding motherfucking headache.

In Spanish, "Oye mang, you ok? You look bad ese. You got a big fucking ball on the back of your head," some old handsome fellow. I don't know if he was Mexican.

"Where am I?" I asked in English anyway.

"Mexico. You were deported. Five guys in Tennessee beat the shit out of you, and then they called La Migra on your ass and told them you were a shit head illegal alien beaner. The La Migra believed it too because they stole your I.D. and also because the shithead La Migra was KKK too, so they brought you here."

"Holy shit. How do you know everything that happened? Were you there or something?" I rubbed my fucking skull off it hurt so bad. I was still wearing my cool clothes at least.

"Because I'm the same old man from that one book The Alchemist. I know everything. Have you read it?"

"Shit. Yes I have! I fucking love that book! You're really him? This is amazing."

"Yes. That's me. It's pretty great to see me and meet me huh? Yup that's me."

"Wow," I shook his hand vigorously, and then I hugged him, and then I held him. I had been so lonely for a long time. I just held him and he held me. I was tired and I hurt. My headache went away. I started crying, "Man, I've been so lonely for so long old man. It's really good to see you." He just held me and soothed my soul.

We let each other go, and it wasn't awkward at all. I let out a big ole sigh and looked around, "Yup this is Mexico alright. I guess I'll have to find Diego or someone and try to sneak back over and go home. Ugh what a bummer. I don't blame those KKK fags. They just don't know any better. May God forgive them, because I sure do. Fuck it." I just looked around at the dusty place for a while, and then I got scared the old man would disappear so I looked back at him.

"Nah, you don't have to go home," the old man breathed.

"Ya I guess I don't huh? Or…what do you mean?" I asked. The old man was wearing a great big, beaming, bright smile on his face.

"Here. Take this magical, white horse, and go wherever you want. Go somewhere," he breathed, and all of a sudden a saw the sparkling white horse behind him. I wondered if it had been there this whole time! It fucking sparkled like it was a Twilight™ horse or something––––but not a vampire horse––a good horse.

"Go somewhere? Where? Wow. What a cool horse," I said stupidly.

"Ha ha you are funny son. This is where I leave. Go somewhere," he waited for me to say something.

I looked at the horse, and all of a sudden I could only think of one place to go, "OAXACA!" THE MEXICAN TOWN OF MY BELLE!!!

The old man smiled, "Goodbye for now."

"Goodbye friend! Thanks for the horse!"

The old man snapped his fingers three times, and poof he was gone.

"Wow cool!" I yelled.

"I know!" The horse said.

"Wow! You talk!" I said stupidly.

"Wow! You talk!" He said.

"Horse, can you take me to Oaxaca? Is it too far from here?"

"You can call me Guillermo. Sure I can take you anywhere. It's far as hell, but I ride fast like the wind and don't have to stop for breaks. Hop on."

"OK!"

So off we went, and boy was he right. We must have been going around 160 miles an hour or faster? Sometimes it seemed like we were flying. "Take a nap," Guillermo said, and I said OK and fell asleep.

"Wake up buddy. Wake up buddy," ––Guillermo.

"Huh?"

"We're here. I have to go, but I'll be back at the right time, if I ever need to."

"Wow. Thanks Guillermo. Be safe. Goodbye friend."

"Goodbye," and then this time he really flew away. It looked like he went west, and I imagined him going to some awesome island in the Pacific.

I looked around. Ah! Good ole green, beautiful Oaxaca! I love this place!

And now to get clean and dressed up for my Aztec princess, I thought, but then I looked at myself. I was perfectly clean and had new clothes on. I carefully touched my hair, and I could tell it was fucking perfect and awesome. Well, I'll be damned. Guillermo took me for a shower and bought me clothes.

I heard a rumble. Immediately, I was surrounded, but this time by a bunch of beaners instead of KKK shit heads! Damn it!!!

"Hey yankee asshole. Who said you could come here?"

Motherfuck. I couldn't win. Either I was a beaner in Tennessee or a yankee in Oaxaca. I replied, "Hey motherfuckers, it's Gringo to you."

"WE ARE GOING TO KILL YOU THIS TIME PUTO! YOU WON'T ESCAPE THIS TIME!" They all yelled in unison.

My heart sank. There was exactly 100 of them, and I knew they were serious, and I knew there was nothing that could save me. I was terrified. My breathing quickened. I looked around at all of them, as they laughed–––ugly wolves; they could see I was scared like a little bitch. I thought maybe Guillermo would return, but I doubted. I started to think about accepting my death. I felt really sick, man. I was so close to my princess, and I had met the old man and Guillermo. Fuck man, I felt sick. I thought I was going to puke. How could it end like this, ya know? I clenched my fists. The best I could do was to try and fight my way through some of them and then run. I ALMOST pissed myself, but I sure as hell didn't! They were going to RUIN my perfect hair.

I heard another rumble. This one was far greater than the first one that came with these beaners. It shook the whole fucking earth. I balanced myself, as I almost fell. It can't be! I thought. Could it?

100 of my princess Lizette's women cousins came to the rescue!

There was TOTAL war! 100 beaners verses 100 of Lizette's cousins. There was really no match. The cousins…Las Primas…were too vicious. It was an awesome sight to see. I stood there in the middle of this crazy bloody war! There was blood and death everywhere! And finally it was over.

"Welcome Daniel. You know you are in big trouble? Our cousin the princess has been waiting for you for a long fucking time. Lizette is pretty fuckin' pissed off eh," they all said in a chorus.

"Ehem…uhmm…ehem," they were a rowdy bunch.

"Don't worry! We won't hurt you! If we ever hurt a single hair on your fucking perfect head of hair Karina would kill us!" They all laughed.

"Karina?"

"Shit, you don't even know her real name? Lizette is her princess name."

"Ehem…" they were still pretty damned intimidating after beating the shit out of 100 beaners.

They picked me up, and threw me on top of them, as if I was riding a moshpit. It was great. I was floating on a bunch of Karina's cousins.

"Wooo!!!" I yelled in exuberance.

"Míralo muy feliz!" They all said. Look at him so happy.

I arrived at the famous Aztec palace, a lonely, sad, American bum. They tossed me off, and away they went. I made my way up the golden steps. Could she really be up there waiting for me? I thought. I kept going up, step by step. She's too beautiful damn it. A girl like that couldn't possibly be waiting for me. Ah fuck it. If she don't want me, she don't have to have me, I thought. Up and up I went.

I reached the top and before I could do or say anything Karina had pounced on me, her and her loose Mexican clothing: a white top with no bra, her midriff geez, and a crazy awesome loose skirt that tried to reach her knees but failed. She was barefoot of course. I looked awesome.

Oh Karina how I have missed you! My mind raced like a race horse of course…or a race dog or whatever. Karina! She kissed me, man, and I tried to kiss her back, but I failed, because she was kissing me faster than I could try and kiss her! Her hair everywhere engulfing me in her smell, I died over and over. Her breasts coming out of her loose shirt, here and there, I was aroused one hundred percent, seeing those perfect breasts. She kissed me everywhere. She was a flurry and fury of kisses on an undeserving American bum. I could hardly breath, as I tried to take in her smell as much as I could. And lips everywhere made me explode in orgasm after orgasm of happiness and ecstasy. I just let my tongue hang out so it could lick any part of her that ran across it. At one point I got a hold of her perfect bare ass, as she shoved her tongue down my mouth. What an ass! I mean, just imagine. The person you love the most is kissing your face like she means it! A poor American bum, being ravished by the most beautiful Mexican. This couldn't be real. The old man whispered in my ear slightly (even though he wasn't there), "Yes this IS happening." She dragged me to her chambers.

It took everything I had in me to pin her down and look her in the eyes, but what I saw wasn't what I had wanted to see. What I had WANTED to see was pure joy and ecstasy. I saw pain. She looked away. I turned her head. She closed her eyes. I kissed her lips. Her eyes widened with the same pain, and she looked away.

"You were gone for so long, you estupid idiot," with the most heart breaking sadness, as she held me, as if I could disappear.

"I…I…I…" me stupidly, "I was deported from Mexico back to the U.S. and then I got lost in Tennessee. To be honest, I didn't know you'd miss me."

"What's Tennasí?" She kissed me hard, "I don't want Tennasí to take you away from me ever again you estupid idiot," she kissed me so damn hard, I'm telling you.

Her body was perfect. I took off all her clothing. She took all of mine off, and then we just goddam held each other in a giant luxurious bed made out of ivory, gold, feathers, and all this other fancy shit. We made love real quick, because we both needed it, and then we held each other. We took a shower, and had more sex. And then we held each other, in that one bed. She fucked me like only she knew how. We did it every which way and for a couple days and it was amazing. Finally, she buried her face in my awesome chest and cried herself happily to sleep.

I lay there looking out the goddam window, wondering to myself. Really? I mean, really? You like someone; hell you love someone, and they love you back? This doesn't happen. Imagine wanting one person the most, and that one person wants you the most. That's impossible. It had just happened. It was happening.

Hmmmm. As a religious ole fuck, it made me think of Jesus, as I held the sleeping body of a fucking naked, beautiful, perfect Aztec princess with an ass of a goddess and the most generous and giving breasts. It was like Jesus just came down here, and all he wanted was for us to want him back…not to believe that he existed, necessarily…but to love him, and when we did, Jesus was like in fucking ecstasy.

I had just had ecstasy with this fucking Mexican creature and the erotic explosion could have killed us both, if our love hadn't protected us. I wondered. And then I prayed a shitty prayer: "God protect my shitty self, from my shitty self. Please protect this wild, Aztec princess Karina that loves me for some reason. I love her back. I know I'm shitty. And I know she's probably shitty too, but please forgive us our sins. We'll forgive whoever fucks with us too. Lord, I don't know how to pray, but I figure I'm just talking to you, so, I love you and thanks for all this crazy shit. I love you more than I love this fucking Mexican tigress. Let me know what to do whenever you want to Lord. I'll fucking do it, not because of what I have, but because you love me, and I love you. You know how when two people love each other and they do stuff for each other? Ya you know. Anyway. You saved us. I'll do anything. I promise. I love you a lot God. I'm ashamed. I'm always ashamed, but I'll try not to be because Jesus died like hell on that horrible cross for all my shit. I'll try to be grateful. Help me however you can and however is fair. Please protect my loved ones. I love you. I just want to say I love you. I love you. Amen. Bye."

I lied there. That damned Karina slept like a baby. She let go of her grip on me, and rested upon me, as if she now knew that I loved her just as much as she loved me and that I wasn't going to leave her––––as if something was now comforting her. I wondered in my soul.

I stared at her nipples. I looked over and checked out her ass. She was tan. I kissed her everywhere, while she slept, and I wondered if that was some kind of rape, even though she loved me. I put that thought away. Dumb liberals always trying to make me think something right is something wrong. I laughed. I looked out the window again. I wondered in my soul. I fell asleep.

I dreamt something awesome.

"Wake up Daniel. Wake up."

I sure as hell woke up, when those beautiful wind chimes sang, "Good morning, princess." I looked at her. She was on her knees naked at the foot of the bed. Her breasts hang perfectly, and I couldn't quite see her vagina, but it was there. Her dark hair hung so great around her sun dried shoulders. Her eyes were there gleaming golds, greens, browns, blues, and reds all over the goddam room. Her lips sang. Her ears heard the secret songs of angels. Her nose…her nose…her nose was mine, along with everything else.

"My prince. I'll be right back. I'm going to bring us some fucking fruit to suck on, ok?"

"Princess, before you go, I have two requests."

"Granted. Fucking granted! I'm so happy you're back. You can have anything you want. I don't give a shit what it is. I don't care that I don't even know what it is yet. I say yes. You can have it!" She smiled brighter than the old man himself. My heart beat, as if it were more alive, just to see her.

"Hell! I love you! I'm so happy to see YOU! I'm such a fool. My two requests, I want a kiss, and I want you to lick some words into my unworthy ears––––––any words." I looked at her, as if she might say no, or as if she might disappear. Damn it God! You can make some creatures! They're too lovely! What is happening on this weird planet!!!???

"Granted," she slithered over (and now I could see her vagina; it was still there), and gave me a perfect peck. She gave me another gift, before slithering words into my ears: she stared me square in the eyes. Oh her eyes! She just stared for years upon years and eons upon eons, and my heart was my whole being, and I didn't breathe forever. Her eyes were so beautiful. "OK," she said, "come here," and she licked the loveliest of rhymes, the loveliest of poems, the loveliest of flutters, the loveliest of words into one of my ears, and that was it. It was all complete.

She jumped off the bed, and made her way to the door, as I checked out her ass and back and legs. She paused at the door. She looked back and killed me with her beautiful face, "tell me you love me estupid."

"I love you," I smiled stupidly.

She smiled perfectly. She blew me a kiss, "Ahorita vengo," and she was out the goddam door.

"Wow!" I breathed aloud and fell back onto the bed. I was still naked, and my hair was still perfect.

"Danny."

"Holy shit!" I sat up, "You guys scared the shit out of me!" The old man and Guillermo were in the room. I didn't cover up my dick.

"We're back, and we're happy you're happy. Happiness is fleeting. Be content, and be thankful for any happiness. Sometimes sad times come, but happiness is good too. God loves you. We'll see you later. You won't ever separate from your new wife ever again, we promise."

"Well goddam, thanks guys. You guys are good. You guys are good friends."

"Only The Teacher is good. Be good dude. We'll see you when you get deported back to the U.S. again, and then you'll bring your princess. Things will happen."

"I love you guys. I'll miss you guys."

"As if we won't miss you Danny! We love you. See ya later dude."

"See ya guys!"

The old man snapped his fingers three times and nothing happened. Guillermo looked at me, and we both laughed, and then they both disappeared.

I lied back again, with my hands behind my neck. God was good. I knew I'd be poor again, somewhere sometime, and I hoped that I'd still think God was good. As for now, I was rich and a Mexican prince, with the most beautiful wife. I pondered. I wondered.

I got a little depressed thinking about everything in the world. I got sad. I got happy. I loved. I hated. I held my poor, beat heart. I wondered. I thanked Jesus. I wondered…

Everything is near and so far, I thought to myself, and I began to cry–––––––uncontrollably, but sweetly and deeply, and it felt so damn good, and I thought about Jesus and my family, and I cried some more.

And then that lovely ass walked back into the majestic room. I was in love. I had never thought I'd see her again.

Playing a Show, Playing a New Song: "I Want to be Like King Solomon"

Hello there! Long Live Logos is playing a show at Soda Bar in San Diego on April 28, 2013 (SODA BAR SHOW). It's been a little while since we've played a show. I can't wait. We'll mostly be playing brand new songs that we've never ever ever never played.

We're playing a brand new song entitled "I Want to be Like King Solomon." The song is about wanting to be like King Solomon of the Old Testament. He was King David's son, the second king of Israel. He was known for his extravagance and wisdom.

Here are the lyrics…yes, they might sound a little silly, but it's fun!

I Want to be Like King Solomon

I wanna make love with all the beautiful girls of the world
Like my hero King Solomon
I wanna be rich, super rich, yea you know what I mean
Like my hero King Solomon

Oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh
I wanna be like King Solomon

I wanna be the smartest guy in the fucking world
Like my hero King Solomon

Oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh
I wanna be like King Solomon

What you gonna do with all that ass?
What you gonna do with all that cash?
What you gonna do with all them brains?
I'll figure it out

Oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh
Oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh
Oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh
Oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh

Oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh
I wanna be like King Solomon

Like he said, nothing really matters
Like he said, only God really matters

The Place Beyond the Pines: Review

The Place Beyond the Pines (2012) Review – 4/12/2013

(NO SPOILERS)

At this point, how can you not be excited to watch The Place Beyond the Pines—directed by Derek Clanfrance—when it stars Ryan Gosling and Bradley Cooper? I think they should have tried a little harder to get Jessica Alba instead of Eva Mendes, but that’s just me, and Rose Byrne made up for it anyway.

   It seemed like Ryan Gosling and Bradley Cooper were on the fast track to being C-List Hollywood hacks. Let me explain. The Notebook was one of the first movies that really made me cry, and I have been grateful ever since—I loved that movie! That was the first time I saw Gosling in a film, and he was just charming, and I am in love with Rachel McAdams. But still, it was “just” a tearjerker, chick flick, and it could have been easy for Gosling to keep playing the sweat heart.

   I first saw Cooper in Wedding Crashers, and I must say I often rewound (can you rewind DVDs?) his scenes. He’s just fucking hilarious in that movie. Cooper could have easily let himself be cast into that “bro”/”jock” role that he plays so well forever.

   Gosling was so great and strange in Drive, and Cooper was perfect in Silver Linings Playbook. Needless to say, both dudes have come a long way since their early days, and now they’re badasses, so I was expecting The Place Beyond the Pines to be pretty good. The movie delivered on the goods! Right from the beginning the movie gets exciting, and you obviously begin rooting for the “bad” guy (humans are so predictable). The movie follows Gosling as a carny motorcyclist that finds out he has a child in one of the small towns the carnival stops at. He seems like a guy that doesn’t have much direction in life. He finds some purpose in trying to provide for his family. He gets in trouble; that’s where police officer Cooper comes in. Both of the protagonists (it’s almost like two movies) are faced with moral dilemmas, and Clanfrance does a great job of eliciting a grand drama and emotion from the script.

   Something happens right in the middle of the movie that makes you wonder what the rest of the movie is going to be about, but Place isn’t amateurs at work. I think it was Roger Ebert that once said something like the following: a good movie can’t be too long, and a horrible movie can’t be too short. Some might think this movie could have been a little shorter, but it was a great, epic movie with some good twists and a satisfying ending.

   I especially liked Sean Bobbitt’s DP work. He set up strange scenes where it almost felt like you were Gosling or at least a part of his entourage, and his epic landscape shots play well with the emotional landscapes of the characters. I must say the wardrobe people were pretty awesome (the way Gosling’s character dresses the whole time gives this movie a realistic, raw feel). The acting was good all around. Although the story was a familiar one, there were enough novelties so that it didn’t seem too familiar; plus the acting and, again, Rose Byrne made up for it. And I would just like to say that Ben Mendelsohn seems to be in everything these days (Girls [TV], The Dark Knight Rises, Killing Them Softly, Animal Kingdom, Killer Elite). Keep it up Ben!

   Go watch this movie.

ROSE BYRNE

Dark vs Dark

I had a sick feeling in my gut…
I HAD a sick feeling in my gut…
I had A sick feeling in my gut…
I had a SICK feeling in my gut…
I had a sick FEELING in my gut…
I had a sick feeling IN my gut…
I had a sick feeling in MY gut…
I had a sick feeling in my GUT.

I drove to the localest, closest liquor store and bought a 40 of something…anything.

I sat alone in my car and washed a Xanax down with a swig of beer. I'll drink this beer nice and slow.

I drove to Tijuana, Mexico. I found an English speaking, middling drug dealer and bought a couple roofies; I bought five roofies; I put them in an Altoids box. I bought a couple bottles of tequila and got myself a hotel room.

This seemed like the near end.

I drove back to California the next morning. I got home, and no one was home. I got on my computer and searched for  the most beautiful girl on my Facebook friends list. It had to be a girl I liked, as well as found attractive. She had to be nice; she had to be beautiful; she had to be nice; she had to be beautiful; it had to be…her.

So I found her. I drove to wherever she lived. We "ran into each other."

"Oh, well hey what are y'all doing tonight?" It was a weekend.

"Oh, well hey we're all hanging out…you know so-and-so, right?" She was the fly, and I was the spider.

"Yes. I know so-and-so. I'll call him up. I'll see you there."

"Oh, well hey see ya later."

"Oh, well hey see ya later."

I called, and it was all set. We'd meet at a bar. We'd party after. I'd giver her a roofie. I'd take her to a hotel, and she'd "willingly" have sex with me.

This all seemed like the near end for me.

Afterwards, I'd head over to that cliff and go for a dive, and then it would really be the end for me. And that would be it.

It all went well and right and the way I planned it, and everyone had fun, but something went "wrong" the morning after…

"Hey, you. Come back to bed."

I was about to leave the room. I was about to leave her and everyone else forever. I was about to be forever gone.

"Where are you going?"

"Uh…I don't really remember what happened last night," I lied.

"Oh, well hey, let me remind you," she beamed at me.

Years flashed by, as the cliff waited for me to jump off of it.

The end kept seeming further and further away.

We had gotten married and all that. We had had kids and all that. She had fallen in love with me and all that. I had already been in love with her (and a million other girls) and all that. We bought a car and all that. We bought another car and all that. And then we bought yet another car and all that. We bought a house and all that. We bought some dogs and cats and all that. We went to church and all that. We went on vacations and all that. She did what she did and all that, and I did what I did and all that.

She died one day. I never told her about roofie-ing her–––––––––––––she seemed to like me–––––––she seemed to love me for god's sake–––––––––––––––and I loved her too, and I didn't want to ruin anything for her.

I found my little Altoids box in a corner somewhere, and I opened it with my old, crusty, wrinkly, hurting fingers. I dumped the remaining four roofies in the toilet; I flushed them; I sat down.

I barely got up. I barely stood up. I walked over to a fine mirror we had in our room, and I asked myself aloud, "Why does it seem like it's always DARK vs DARK?" I cried for several centuries.

And then I just hoped a light would shine on me, over me, through me, out of me–––––forever.

Blood and Juice Boxes

The sirens were blasting my ears completely off, and they made my brain go completely haywire. It was as if my brain was made out of electrical activity, and it was being shorted out. Oh wait... anyway...

THE SIRENS: "WAH! WAH! WAH! MASH! MASH! MASH! WAR!!! BOGEY! BOGEY! BOGEY! WASH! WAH! WASH!"

I couldn't make out what it was trying to tell me.

I grabbed my scary head with both hands, clenched my eyeballs with my crazy eyelids, and threw myself against the Red Cross bus. I hunkered down. The goddam bus was still pumping out blood for the wounded. Other than my ears being blasted off and my head, brain, mind going crazy, I was in great condition! I could give some blood, to help.

I opened my crazy eyes to see fourteen North Koreans and seven Iranians about one hundred yards away—they trained their muskets in my direction––––sons of bitches. OK. I shouldn't talk that way about their mothers.

My legs hurried me over and behind the bus, as the bullets with their own minds began flying toward the poor blood bus and me.

BING, BANG, CLASH, BING, BING, BING, BANG, BANG, BANG!!!

I touched my body everywhere––no hits on me. I looked at myself with my eyes and perceived with my mind: I was dirty and bloodied (with other people's blood), but I was unwounded–––just really dirty and stinky.

I saw the bastards loading their shitty guns and made a run for it. I jumped inside the blood bus. Inside there were two dead people, one person giving blood, and the doc.

"I can give blood!" I shouted over the sound of the war outside; bombs were exploding, bullets were flying, bings and bangs cried out, and death cackled like a hyena; death was a murderous hyena!

I saw a shuffle behind the doc; someone was huddled up in a corner of the bus. I looked questioningly at the doc.

"It's the President of the United States! Hide him over there behind you!"

The president hobbled over to me, and I stuck him in a cubby, "Hello Mr. President!"

Just then, the doc finished with the person giving blood, and as the donor stood up––

A thunderous, deafening sound, and then…SMASH! EXPLODE! BASH! BOOM! The back of the bus was torn off like a piece of bread from the Olive Garden; jets ran away in the sky like cowards; the doc was gone. The donor was gone. The two dead people were even deader now. The president cowered and whimpered behind me. I stared in shock, but nothing would shock me as much as what I would see next.

A girl was running toward the bus! As I looked at her through one of the blood stained windows, everything was in slow motion. She was so clean. She was wearing a lovely hat and had long, shining mahogany locks. She was so clean. She had magical, green and gold eyes, and there was no war in them. She wore a brilliant, yellow frock that matched her eyes and flowed above her knees; her legs were so smooth and clean and bright and shining. Her sandals were faithful and clean, as she ran elegantly toward me. I bet her name is Sarah Price, I thought.

The idiots across the way were loading their guns again, but they were stunned by the sight of Sarah, so they didn't do much for a second.

She jumped into the bus, and we were face to face.

"HI!"

I just stared into her eyes. I tried to hide in her eyes. I had been in this war for too long, and I was tired.

She put her hand on my shoulder, "HI! Are you OK?!"

I looked at her hand in awe, and then I muttered, "Th…the…the pres…the president."

BING, BANG, TINK, BING, CLASH outside.

"Sorry! Hi! I'm Danny! I'm a little outta sorts, but I'm good enough, but I suppose it depends!"

"I'm Sarah! Sarah Price!"

"Wow! OK! You're so…clean!"

She laughed, "Is there anyone we can give blood to, or is it too late? We can drive the rest of this bus out of here, if we need to, don't you think? What president?"

The bastards outside were slowly advancing on us. I stuck my fist out the window for a second and shot a couple rounds in their direction to slow them down.

"We have the President of the United States here!"

We rushed over to him. He was nodding off, and he damned well looked purple––for God's sake––even though he was black!

"He's dying! We need to save him!"

We carried his limp ass body to one of the beds that was still left; we could see he was bleeding out. We stopped the hemorrhaging. He wasn't bleeding any more, but he didn't have enough blood to live.

The damned sirens shook my soul again, and I thought I was a lost cause, but then Sarah shook me, "I need you!" I snapped out of it, "I'm here to give blood! I ran over here to give blood, to help! The president needs it!"

"Me too! OK! Sit down against the bed," I grabbed some empty blood bags, iodine, and needles, "Looks like the reserve blood bags were blown away!" I grabbed her arm, cleaned it (even though it was already super clean) with iodine, stuck her with the needle, and then I hooked it up to the bag, "Squeeze your fist a bunch of times! We don't have much time!" I shot a couple more rounds out the window, "Now you hook me up!"

Sarah cleaned my dirty arm, iodined me, stuck me, and then hooked up the blood bag. I looked down at the ground and started feeling depressed. Sarah put her amazing free hand on my cheek. I looked into her crazy eyes. She smiled at me, "Now squeeze your crazy hand."

We sat there, against the bed, squeezing our hands, while holding hands, filling up blood bags with blood. Finally, the bags were full––we were exceptional blood givers.

We pulled the damned needles out and stood up. We were both quite dizzy and almost fell over each other, but we held each other up somehow. We hooked up the president to our blood, one bag per arm.

We stumbled to the sitting area, hand in hand.

"Is there any hope?" One of us asked. We looked out the window and saw the advancing enemy. I bet they knew the president was with us.

"One way or another, I bet it's all going to be over soon," one of us said, as I shot my last rounds out the window, willy-nilly.

Dizzy, holding hands, and uncertain about the future, we looked out a window of this blood bus. The skies were gray, it was starting to rain. Torn and ravished buildings, surrounded by the lush green, greenery of magnificent trees and over-grown, beautiful grass, surrounded us––not to mention the enemy. We stared out that crazy window, watching the enemy advance. I looked into her eyes to escape the war, and then we kissed forever—two pale faces, two pale lips, two sets of closed dreaming eyes, two minds minding each other, and tears mingling.

She held one of my hands with both of hers, and she just stared at my hand, while she caressed it.

I looked out the window and saw a green rumble. I looked at the enemy, and the flashes of their weapons were directed at us, but the bus protected us. I looked at the president, and he was less purple. The green rumble was getting closer; it looked like a herd of green monsters, and then the enemies' flashes were directed toward the green rumble. One by one, the enemy began to fall, as fire came from the green rumble at them.

Sarah's head was on my shoulder, and we were both crying, uncertain of what the future held.

"We're gonna be OK, Sarah! The Marines are here!" She looked up, and we could see a swarm of Marines taking over the scene.

We were calm as we watched. I looked to my left and saw a box full of juice boxes. I grabbed one and stuck the straw into it. I nudged Sarah, "My lady? A juice box?"

She smiled through the tears, "Why thank you, sir––much obliged," and she rewarded me with a kiss on the cheek.

I grabbed a juice box for myself. We toasted to each other and drank heartily.

Sarah looked into my eyes, and she could see the war was ending.

"It was beautiful meeting you over blood and juice boxes," one of us said.

And then we kissed and held hands forever.

The Deaf Brothers from Belgium that Decided to Die Together

Two brothers were born deaf. They were twins. They were twin, deaf brothers. I don't know if they were identical or fraternal twins, but they lived in Western Europe—in Belgium.

Being deaf, and being brothers, and being twins, they relied on each other heavily.

Oh, the years passed by, and as the years passed by, they got older. And then they got even older still. As they got older, they grew inseparable—so much so that they no longer relied upon each other—they needed each other. They got older still.

I don't know if they got married to women or whatever, if that's what you're wondering.

People get old. These twin, deaf brothers got old together, and then something terrible began to happen...

They both began to go blind. And my heart broke when I heard this. But Western Europe is very accommodating. So Western Europe told them this:

"Twin, deaf brothers, as your eyesight begins to fade, we are willing to put you into institutions that will take care of both of you, and both of you will be able to continue living together into even older age. What do you two think of that?"

I'm sure they couldn't hear that, but it was communicated to them, one way or another. The twin, deaf brothers consulted with each other, barely being able to see.

They held hands, and finally agreed on something by themselves, as they began to cry.

No. They would not be put into institutions, deaf and blind, not being able to see or communicate with each other any more; they wouldn't have it! So they communicated to the state something to the effect of:

"Thank you for your generous offer State, but we must decline. Being deaf and blind, we brothers would not be able to communicate with each other any more, and we just can't accept that fate. We don't want to leave each other. I would never leave my brother alone, and I would never leave my brother alone either. We love each other too much and life would be unbearable without each other, State. We would be lost in darkness and silence, and without each other. We can't live with that option. We won't leave each other. We can't do that to each other. We don't want to do that to each other. We won't do that to each other, State... our decision is to be euthanized together, before our last glimpses of each other. Thank you."

The state fought them for three years on this, as the brothers grew blinder and blinder.

Finally, mercy shined its light on the brothers' fading eyes, and for a moment they saw each other clearly. They smiled at each other—they would get their wish.

They were taken to a hospital to be euthanized. They were put on gurneys. At this point the brothers were very old. They were ushered into a room. They held hands and looked at each other—they could barely see.

One brother nodded to the other. The other brother nodded back. They could still see each other. Liquids were pumped into their veins, and the brothers became very calm. Everything was very serene, and they became sedated. They felt well. They nodded to each other again, and as they held hands, they began to cry. One brother got up—never letting go of his brothers hand—and got into his brothers gurney. Their other brother and their parents began to cry. The nurses and doctors were crying as well. They held each other.

One brother finally breathed his last breath, as he mouthed to his brother, "I love you." His brother mouthed back, "I love you too." And one brother was peacefully gone. The other brother held his brother, as he became sleepier and sleepier; he could feel the passing away. He smiled, kissed his brother on the forehead, and breathed his last breath.

There the brothers lay holding each other and passed away—gone to SEE and HEAR the LORD, sing songs and dance, and be together forever in heaven.

This is a true story.

The Huffington Post - 1/14/2013 - http://www.huffingtonpost.co.uk/2013/01/14/twin-brothers-die-by-euthanasia-after-blind-diagnosis_n_2470551.html

Two Angels and One Archangel

I had already died a long time ago. Time in heaven was weird. You see we're always waiting for another second, another minute, another hour, another day to go by—not so in heaven. Time is different in heaven. There's never another moment, neither one past, nor one coming up. Everything and all just is.

So, I had my hands in my pockets (and in heaven you don't even have hands or pockets), and I was walking around, just saying hello to folks.

The angels kind of keep to themselves, because they're a little bit different; we don't quite understand them, and they don't quite understand us. There is a lot in heaven that is not quite understood. I thought that once I got to heaven I would know everything. That wasn't the case.

I slowed down by two angels that were having some kinda argument. Sometimes, if the angels noticed that you were listening to them, they'd fly off somewhere to the Angel's Lounge, so that you wouldn't listen to their strange conversations.

"Hey shhhh Billy. Let me grab a cigarette," one angel whispered to the other, as I walked by in my heaven outfit.

"Man motherfucker, I ain't got no cigarettes, and I ain't had no cigarettes for a long time now, and you know that," the other was annoyed.

I bent over and picked up a bug, so that it would seem like I wasn't listening to them.

"Well, I want a cig man. Do you think we outta stop smoking?"

"Shit dude, if I got a cig right now I'd smoke it, but it fucking sucks. Once I start smoking, I need one to go to sleep."

"Ya, me too. Fuck."

"Let's go ask Gabriel if he has smokes. He's in and knows whoever to get smokes all the time."

"Ha ha! Yous crazy. You wanna ask an archangel for a smoke? He gon beat our asses you dumb ass."

"Man, I'm tired and now that you bring it up, I want a smoke. Fuck it. Let's ask him and be respectful."

"I'm in."

"Hey human," the second angel was addressing me—fuck.

I picked up a Lady Bug and turned, acting as if I hadn't been listening, "What do you angels want? What do you want? Go mind your own business. I'm trying to admire the bugs here can't you see?" I had to act annoyed, because humans were a little higher on the totem pole in heaven.

"Hey we mean no disrespect. We're gonna go get smokes from Gabriel, and we were wondering if you'd come with us. Gabriel is nicer when we're with humans. Do us a solid?"

I had to keep acting annoyed, "Man, I don't even fucking smoke. Why y'all even smoke? And why y'all wanna go bother Gabriel? He's gonna fuck us all up. Just get some of Jesus' wine and shut the fuck up."

"Nah, homie, we just haven't smoked in a while. Don't make us beg," this was the second angel talking to me the whole time.

"OK. Fuck it. I'm up for some trouble. On one condition: what's y'alls' names?"

The angels looked at each other, and the second one spoke up, "Fuck it. I'm Billy, and this is Jeremy. You know we're not suppose to get to know each o' too good. Yous humans suppose to be mo' respected."

"Man, don't tell me how it is up here. We been up here fo' a long ass time fool," I countered.

"Let's go then?" — Billy.

"Ya man, let's role...how do you guys even know where Gabriel is? He's a fucking big shot," I wondered.

"He's always behind the Angel's Lounge in the alleyway," Jeremy the angel finally spoke up.

"OK. Let's get you guys some smokes, if Gabriel will hook you up."

We walked a ways, we flew a couple million miles, we went through different warp-holes, we passed a millennia of old-school vets, we loved a million women, we flew through space, we made friends, we prayed to Jesus, we were holy, and we finally arrived behind the Angel's Lounge.

"Alright human—"

"Dude, my name is Danny."

"Sorry...Danny, go behind the alleyway, and say hello to Gabriel, and then me and Jeremy will come up behind you, and you'll acknowledge us. That'll impress Gabriel."

"Whatever."

I straightened my suit out. I put my hands in my pocket, and I started whistling 'Wake Up Dead Man," by U2, and I walked briskly behind the Angel's Lounge.

WOW. I saw him. I hadn't seen Gabriel in a long time. It was always awesome in the best sense of the word. He was just a huge fucking spectacular warrior of an angel. He was an angel that could take out an army of angels. I had never spoken to him before. He was surrounded by about five angel women. There were no humans in sight. I knew I was going to be respected because Jesus had died for us, but I was still very intimidated.

Gabriel saw me and instantly turned around and addressed me, "Lord, what are you doing around these parts? Please let me know how I can help you."

WOW. He was totally talking to me, "Archangel Gabriel, no need to call me Lord. Thank you for everything you've done for the kingdom."

"No need to thank me for anything. Always thank the LORD. How can I help you?"

"Oh...," I didn't know what to say. I thought the dumbass normal angels would have showed up by now, "Tell me. What was it like fighting the devil and his demons?"

The women angels giggled, and I felt like a fool. Gabriel looked at them condescendingly and they shut the hell up.  He spoke to me, "It was no joke Danny. They only look for blood and would like nothing more than to see me dead and non-existent. At every moment, they dream for my death, for the death of you, for the death of Jesus, God, and the Holy Ghost. They only have one goal on their minds: death."

"I see," I was terrified all of a sudden.

"Yes. Michael and I must worry about their wellbeing, about protecting humans, and about protecting our army of angels, and making sure that they don't take any more angels or people to their side. So, they only have one goal, and Michael and I have many goals and rules to abide by. So—to answer your question—it's a bitch, but God gives us strength, and we believe in Love, sir."

"I'm impressed Michael...I mean Gabriel! Sorry!" I fucked up.

"It's OK. It happens once in a while. There's only two of us, after all—"

That's when Jeremy and Billy showed up.

"Lord Danny, good to see you again," they both recited at the same time, and I knew they had been practicing that stupid phrase.

I turned hard and glared at them, "No need to call me Lord. I was just on my way out. Please enjoy your Lounge."

And then Billy spoke up, "Oh hello Gabriel sir. We didn't mean to interrupt," and Jeremy gave me a hard look.

Ah poor angels, I thought. They just wanted their damn cigarettes. I turned around.

"Gabriel, fine soldier and worshiper of Jesus, would you happen to have a cigarette or two. I have been drinking Jesus's wine for a couple millennia now, and I am getting a craving for some nicotine. I hope I am not insulting you by asking you," I played it off just fine.

"Lord Danny—"

"Please archangel Gabriel, do not call me Lord."

"Danny, let me send you off with a couple crates of cigarettes for your journeys."

"I would appreciate that."

And so the archangel Gabriel brought out a couple crates of cigarettes for me to take on the road, and I responded to him, "archangel Gabriel, give my best to Michael if you see him. I actually have a date with Jesus and a wife I used to have on Earth; her name is Lise Louiselle Marie Martineau. We are going to have some wine. Do you mind if I use these useful angels to help me carry these crates of cigarettes? I have known Jeremy and Billy for some time now, but if you need to speak to them, I can call other angels to help me."

"Absolutely not, please take Billy and Jeremy. They are fine angels, and I will be calling upon them for promotions soon," and then Gabriel addressed the angels, "Jeremy, please take care and say hello to your mother; you have been a great angel, and I am promoting you soon. Billy, please stop causing trouble and I will not demote you. I have a mission for you soon, and if you undertake it successfully, I will not demote you, and I will even consider promoting you. Do not fail Lord Danny, and if you do he will tell me of his troubles. Take care, all of you. Goodbye."

The angels knew better than to respond, and they simply bowed to Gabriel. Me on the other hand, "Alright Gabriel. Take care, and don't give the ladies too much of a hard time!" He laughed and I laughed, and we waved at each other goodbye.

"Enjoy your smokes Billy...Jeremy," I handed the crates over to them.

"So are you really going to have dinner with Jesus?" Jeremy was cool.

"Yup, Jeremy. I'm pretty tight with him. Listen, both of you, look me up. Let's hang out whenever. You guys are fun guys. I'll talk to you soon, OK?"

"You got it Lord Danny!" They both accidentally jinxed themselves.

"Don't call me Lord Danny—Just Danny."

A Case of Supervenience: An Incredible Case of Supervenience

This was INCREDIBLE and could not be made up. FUCK THIS. TRUE STORY.

So, after a ten week bender (I literally got drunk for ten horrible days), I sobered up for an even four days. Four days. OK? Four days.

Still hazy from this bullshit, I had to go back to grad school (I had even missed one week on accident). So after four days of hazy sweaty, cold, nightmare nights of sleep I went back to school, and I was on the brink of feeling better. I spent the whole first day back to school well, but that night was (unsurprisingly) nasty. Still though, I went to "sleep" (AKA hurtful bolking, routing, rucking, eructating, whatever-you-wanna-call-it, weird dreams, not sleeping, endless thinking, weird thoughts, et al.).

AND HERE IT COMES.

The second night, around eight post meridian (PM), I was seriously about to crash and go to sleep sleep. I was so joyful! I literally walked into my car and nearly fell asleep. Let me explain.

After ten days of binging, you don't get much real sleep. And after four days of "sleep" your body starts getting used to the idea of sleep. And then, your body really wants sleep. So, around eight post meridian on the fifth day of my sobriety, and after one day of hardcore philosophical grad school, my mind and body was ready to fucking rest. I mean really fucking ready to rest peacefully.

BUT NO.

I was falling asleep, and responsibly I made myself eat a quick meal. I could hardly keep my eyes open. I was SO happy. I was falling asleep asleep. I parked my car next to the school at that time, which meant that all the kiddies had gone away too, and there was an abundance of parking right next to the school—free parking right in front of the school. Wow. Thank God. I ate. I crawled to the back of my car and fell asleep.

I sleep in my car in Los Angeles when I come up for school three days out of the week for my Master of Philosophy program at Biola University.

I dozed off. I was gone. I had headphones on, with Coldplay whisking me away to sleep. And I went to sleep.

At four ante meridian (AM) or around there... I WAS JOLTED AWAKE BY MY BOWELS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I literally have to put that many exclamation marks to make my fucking point. At four ante meridian I was forced straight up from my sleeping position into a sitting position.

I held my gut so HARD.

OH SHIT... LITERALLY.

I fucking grabbed my gut and made my way to the driver's seat. Nope. This SHIT was literally going to SPILL out of me that instant. I jumped out of the car holding my gut.

What could I do? I looked across the street? Could I take a fucking shit in the bushes across the street? Could I even make it that far? This SHIT was coming fast and furious and out of nowhere.

No.

I couldn't make it across the goddam street.

I leaned on my car and groaned. HOLY FUCK. Was this really happening to me at four ante meridian??? It was fucking still dark out. I groaned. It was happening. Either I was going to shit myself on the spot, or I was going to run to a nearby bush (stuck to the school) and shit behind it.

I hobbled like a fucking Hobbit behind the bush next to the building of the school. I found a strange square contraption next to the bush. I squatted. I pulled my fucking PJs down to my ankles and took a crazy shit right there on the school's property. I could literally hear the security guards making their rounds around the building. Can you believe this? This is a true story that happened to me on February 19th of the Lord's year 2013.

I squatted like a bum behind a bush and took a full shit. There was no thinking about: where is the toilet paper? who is looking? what do I do after the shit? how do I go on as a real human after this? what is normal and OK to do as far as being a respectful human? None of that could matter, when SHIT was splurting and splashing and exploding out of my fucking ass without asking me if I could wait to find a proper venue!!!  There it was. A big fucking messy, shitty (literally do I have to say), wobbly, holy hell, fuckup, nasty, brown, black, nasty mess of a wet mess of shit was beneath me.

It was an incredible case of supervenience (look it up).

I was so incredibly relieved. I mean, when you have to take a shit, I guess you just have to. And I took it–right there and then I had to.

And now... there I was with a weird mess of shit to deal with and a dirty asshole (as if assholes aren't dirty enough already).

What do you do? Ivan? Ismael? Josh? Daniel? George? Sam? Priscilla? What do you do?

Phew, it was a relief though. I stood straight up (all 5'4'' of me) with my pants down and looked at the splashy mess. And then...

OH SHIT, I thought. I can't just leave my asshole unclean and a pile of shit at my school's bush! So, I took off my pants off, grabbed my underwear and wiped my ass real hard (only once), and then I grabbed all of my real shit on the ground (as much as I could) with my wiped-ass underwear, and then I was left with a ball of underwear shit and a half cleaned ass.

I was left with a ball of underwear with shit in it, and my ass was half (or less) cleaned. Every time you wipe your ass, you check it at least several times. This time I could only wipe my ass once and be done with it! I pulled my pants back up and clenched my ass, until I knew what I would do next (you know, so that I wouldn't get ass-shit on my PJs).

After a couple cars drove by, and after I could hear the guards weren't around, I ran to my car with shit in my hand and threw it behind one of the wheels of my car. What else could I do? This is no joke!!!

And then I breathed a sigh of relief.

It was all over. I didn't have to shit anymore! It was over! I was human again! I didn't have to grab my gut out of nowhere and wonder where I was going to take an immediate shit anymore! I felt amazing...

BUT...

There was still a ball of underwear with a bunch of shit in it behind my wheel, my asshole was still only half cleaned, it was still around four ante meridian, and there was still some shit left behind the bush next to my school's building.

I took a deep breath. I smelled my hands hard to see if there were any specks of shit on them (as far as I could tell [and after being in such a bad spell of being hungover and curing myself] there was no shit on my hands). I jumped into my car. HAH! I put on some clean underwear, and I thought to myself...

"Well, it's supposed to rain today. Maybe the rain will wash the rest of my shit away from the bush."

And there I sat and tried to sleep again in the ante meridian, with a half cleaned ass in clean underwear and questionable PJs.

THIS REALLY HAPPENED. IT HAD NEVER HAPPENED TO ME BEFORE, AND NOW I AM MORE UNDERSTANDING OF "BUMS" WHO PERHAPS HAVE TO GO THROUGH SIMILAR THINGS ON A REGULAR BASIS.

All of this was quite amazing.

I hope it rains today.

I Wish I Could Love You, if it Were Only that Easy (Flying to Germany)

I was in my room, right? OK.

Then I just knew she was going to be coming around soon, because of last night. Fuck.

Bam! Motherfucker. Bam! On the goddam window of my fuckin' room.

"Hello?" As if she was just looking for someone casually—my ass was looking for someone casually. My ass.

I kept quiet—please go away. Please go away. Please go away. I closed my eyes. Please go away.

"I know you're in there, Danny!"

I laughed to myself and ran my hands through my hair and face and neck—fuck it.

"HOLD ON," I opened the door that led to the outside from my dark, wooden colored, cubby hole room with the silver fan buzzing above me, "Hey. Hey, how's it going? Come in. Do you want to come in?"

"No. No. I don't think I want to come in," chagrined. She just fucking stood there looking down with her goddam arms crossed, and she was like wearing those kind of fucking ballerina slippers or whatever the fuck girls wear sometimes when they're too lazy to wear real shoes.

"OK. No problem," I went outside and closed the door behind me. I walked over to a bench and sat the fuck down. And then I fucked up. I sighed a little too loudly.

Bam! She spun around and, "What? You want me to leave? Look at me. You want me to leave? Just tell me to leave and that you never want to see me again."

I wasn't gonna go into all that.

She waited, and then, "Why don't you love me? I'm pretty, I'm smart. Why don't you love me?"

And for some weird reason I had a quick and honest response to that, which wasn't really an answer, "Why don't you love that one guy you told me loves you? He's always bugging you. He really fucking loves you. Why don't you love him?"

"Because I love you. Because I love you, dammit! I LOVE YOU!" Oh boy she was crying now, and I looked like a fool. That was a pretty good answer. She continued, "So, what? You love someone else?"

I had a quick answer for that too, "No, actually. I don't love anyone. I used to love this one chick—"

"I don't wanna hear about who you used to love, you fucking asshole!"

"I'm sorry," stupidly. I looked down at the ground like a little boy that is in trouble. And you know what? To be honest, I might have fucked up. You see, when two people fuck, and there's no construct as to where it might lead, you would think that neither should be at fault if the other gets hurt for unrequited feelings of attachment. And I'm thinking that in most cases that's probably true. Buuuuuttttt, if one of the people knows that the other person is pretty much in love with the other person, and STILL makes love to that person, without having any feelings for that person, that person should be at fault. You shouldn't fuck someone that loves you and that you don't love when you know the other person loves you. That's fucked up. That's leading someone on or using someone...

But! Here's how you get away with it...

If a person loves you and wants to fuck you and you also want to fuck that person too but you don't love that person (and you know that person loves you), all you have to do is this: Tell that person, "Hey, I know you love me. I know you love me. It's OK. I'm going to be honest with you. I don't love you at all. But listen, I want to fuck you. So, if you want to fuck, let's just fuck. It's up to you."

Bam! And you know what? I think I did that with this girl! But they'll get all fucked up about it anyway: boy or girl.

"Don't call me. I never want to see you again. Goodbye, Danny," she walked away, as I stared at her ass, thinking Damn, I wish I could fuck her right now.

That doesn't make me an asshole, I thought to myself. I just want to fuck a girl... that girl. Well, whatever.

She was turning the corner of my house and was about to be out of sight when I whispered, barely out of her hearing range: "I wish I could love you... if it were only that easy." And then I thought about all the girls that didn't love me when I loved them. What a sad and fallen world Lord. I can't wait to be with you Jesus, where hearts don't break anymore. I love you Jesus, at least, I thought.

I went back into my stupid, dark, wooden colored cubby of a room, and my cell phone rang.

I answered to a girl saying seductively, "Surprise!"

"OK. Hey! How have you been? You're calling all the way from Germany right now?"

"Yes. And I have another surprise for you," she done says to me.

"Well out with it girl. Don't make me wait. People that make me wait end up being sorry, you know that?"

"You stupid silly. I bought you a plane ticket to Germany, and I just emailed it to you, and you're coming on holiday with me. We're gonna travel all of Eastern Europe!"

"Well... Eastern Europe sounds... exotic? Ha ha!"

"Oh shut up stupid silly. I'm going to show you beautiful Eastern Europe. Don't say no. People that say no to me end up being sorry, I hope you know this."

"Ha ha, well I'm not going to say no to a fucking Nazi. Of course I'm coming. I'll check the dates on my ticket, and you better fucking be there to pick me up."

"Don't call me a Nazi you fucker. YES. I will be there. This call is costing me too much. Goodbye for now. Ciao."

"Bye, baby," and we both hung up.

(A PICTURE OF BEAUTIFUL EASTERN EUROPE, OR SO THE INTERNET TELLS ME)

Whisking Away the Day

I walked past (is it passed or past?) a mirror. I stopped, walked backwards, and stopped in front of the mirror. I made an about face to the right and stared at my reflection; I scrutinized my face.

I wonder what is good enough, I thought to myself, as I made weird faces and pulled my face this way and that way with my crazy hands, hmmm.

I looked down at my clothes, fuck this. I went back to my room and changed into a more forced ensemble.

I walked back to the mirror and globbed a grip of pomade into my hair until I styled it quite right, and then I stuck my glasses back on—my Johnny Depp/John Lennon/try-really-hard-to-look-cool-with-glasses-on spectacles.

I walked out into New York. I looked up into the sky and got depressed, as usual. I was going to the movies by myself to watch the new Brad Bird film; it was produced by Steven Soderbergh; I was excited, and I felt that I looked pretty damned good (as good as I could look I supposed).

As I was looking up at the sky, a wonderful fucking girl bumped into me really hard, "Ah, fuck!" I almost fell over.

"Oh! Watch it!"

"Huh?"

A guy that was with her pushed me further, and I had to prop myself up with a hand before going all the way down. I got that shitty feeling of my heart sinking to my gut; I didn't know if this guy was going to go all the way and try to beat me up.

And so says he to me, "Watch it you fucking asshole. You want me to kick your ass right here? Apologize."

Holy shit, are these people on drugs? I thought to myself. Fuck it. Here we go again, I thought. He was advancing on me, as I had staggered a little back. I quickly took my specs off and thrust them into the inside of my coat.

"OK, let's do this you motherfucker," seriously and sick I invited, and right when he got close enough, I shoved him hard and kicked one of his feet behind the other so that he tripped and fell to the ground. I took my jacket off and threw it around somewhere out of the way.

"Hey Danny, what's going on?" A buddy was around and wanted to help me out.

"Ah nothing. This guy wants to fight, so now I'm fucking stuck here having to deal with this bullshit," I stared at the guy getting up, as he was staring at me, "I don't give a fuck man. What the fuck do you want?"

The lovely couple stepped into the fray and disappeared.

"Hey Johnny."

"Hey man what you up to? Where you headed?"

"Gonna go see the new Brad Bird movie. What's up with you?"

"Gonna go see my girlfriend. Hit me up. I'm always game for a fight! Ha ha!" He strolled and rolled away, also into the fray.

I picked my coat up and threw it on. It was windy; it was gray; it was lovely; it was cold; it was what I loved. My heart rate began to ease up.

I went to get some coffee to get fucked up before the movie. As I walked into the shop, I noticed people making a fucking circle around a crazy man wielding a knife at the cashier. Without thinking, I made my way through the crowd, as I heard the bastard yelling, "Fuck you! You owe me $100!" He was grabbing the confused cashier (barista supposedly) by the collar.  I briskly walked up behind him and jammed my right foot behind his knee, as I punched the back of his head (you know, right where the visual cortex is) blinding him. He fell back smoothly and easily.  When he hit the floor I crushed his ribs. He was a fucking mess. I looked around and saw the cops coming in, so I stepped into the fray, made my way to the back, stole a hot looking coffee on a table, and hit the streets unnoticed by the cops.

I sucked the coffee down and knew my heart rate wouldn't go down for a while.

Her name was Sarah, and I saw her from afar off. I looked up at the sky and got depressed. I made my way through the maze of gray and colorful souls quickly until I reached her, "Sarah!"

She turned around, "Hey Danny!"

"Hey what are you up to?"

"Oh! Nothing!"

"Well fuck. Wanna go to a movie?"

"This early?"

"No. Yes. Yes this early."

She pulled out a little mirror. She clicked it open and looked at herself, "Gosh, I don't know how I look today."

"Can I see that?" I grabbed the mirror and looked into myself and looked at myself, "Ya. Hey I'll see ya later."

"OK. Bye Danny."

I briskly whisked off to watch my movie. As I walked passed an alleyway, I heard a strange sound—strange music. I walked backwards, until I was in front of the alleyway. I walked into the alley. I found the door where the music was coming from. I opened it. A warm light emanated from a warm room. I walked in. There were about thirty people dancing to the strange music coming from an old record player with excellent speakers. I took my jacket off, hung it up somewhere, loosened up, and began to dance, eyes closed.

Someone sweet smelling came up behind me and ran their hands through my fucking crazy hair. I danced. The person laid their head on my back shoulders and just straight hugged me from behind as we swayed.

Oh we just fucking swayed to the fucking music, and we must have had been there for years for all we knew. I grabbed her girl hands and spun her around millions of times and then we swayed to the music as we faced each other.

I whisked her away and around, and she let me whisk her around and away.

We went outside, "Come to my place," she grabbed my hand and off we went. We arrived. She threw her fucking shoes around, and I did the same, and then she threw herself onto her cool bed. I climbed and climbed until I was next to her. It was a great, grand studio.

We were both quite falling asleep, but before I totally fell asleep I peaked out the great windows at the moon. And the moon winked at me with a menacingly happy and peaceful countenance.

Ah you weird fucking moon, I was slipping away. And I fell asleep right fucking there next to a stranger woman with sweet breath.