Peter Pan, World On a String

"Peter!"  Tinker yells through the door, and, unfortunately, it's a weak looking wooden door with cracks, and if you tried, you could see pretty well under the door, because it doesn't go all the way down to the floor.

Peter looks up at the ceiling, as he lies in bed in his cool, forest green suit that never gets dirty or old, "Motherfuck," he whispers to himself staring blankly upward.

"Peter!  It's Tinker!  Get up!  Let's do something!  Let's go out over the sea and sit on some clouds!"

Whatever happened to me? thinks Peter, I feel fine, though.

"Peter?"

"Why the fuck don't you just fly the fuck in here?!  Fly through a crack or whatever the fuck you want?  You come in here without knocking most of the time anyway!  Come in!  Come in!  For fuck's sake!"  Fuck, Peter thinks, Maybe I'm being a bit rude today.  I feel fine and good and happy though.

Tinker Bell flies in through some crack or something and twirls around and gold fairy dust goes everywhere, "It's your birthday!  You're 35!  Are you happy?"  She flies around and around in giddy circles and squares and triangles and rhombuses, "I love you, Peter Pan!  The love of my life!"  She flies right over and above Peter.

Peter sits up, "35, huh?  Yea, nice."

She falls down and sits on one of his knees, "Are we gonna spend all day together today?  You said, you said, you said we would," a big ole fucking smile, and she looks perfect and blonde and sparkly, and Peter just loves her.

"You know I love you, but I think I might take a couple hours for myself, but I'll find you, and we can spend the rest of the day together.  What time is it?"

"It's 7am in Neverland, baby," smiles, smiles, smiles, and glittering perfect teeth and upturned luscious, pink lips.

"Fuck.  It's early, huh?"

"Still don't want to grow up?  I won't grow up, if you don't want to grow up, Peter, but lots of people have been growing up recently."

"Huh?  Fuck no.  Of course fuck no.  I'll never fucking grow up," Peter kinda just staring ahead and thinking about something faraway.

"Well, hey, fine.  You can have your time to yourself, and take your time, but..." she smiles slightly and mischievously, and her eye lids narrow, and her eyes glow blue and green, like she's thinking about what you know she's thinking about.  "Can I use my pixie dust to grow to your size so we can make it?"  She knows there's only one answer to this.

"Tink, why don't you always stay human size so we can make it all the time?"

"No.  But right now, let's do it."

And our minds wander, and when they're done Tinker Bell shrinks again and flies away--flies away away away away away away and around and forever around and loving Peter Pan.  Peter gets dressed green, flings his body out of his green, great tree house, and flies fast up into the sky.  His hair is golden, his body is young, and the sun is soft and forgiving on this day, and the day is beautiful as is not uncommon in Neverland.

Peter lands on some clouds and relaxes, "Why the fuck should I grow up?" He says aloud.  He throws his hands behind his head, relaxes, and falls asleep again...

As is well known, Peter Pan often travels to the land of dreams, and he has the ability to be conscious of the fact that he is there.

...Peter wakes up in Dreamland.  He is standing atop the pointed tip of a very tall skyscraper; he looks down and everything looks small, and the land is all grey squares, and it looks like a maze.  He looks for the sun and sees a grey circle in the sky.  He pushes off the building and gently begins to float down to where everybody else is, and he begins to hear whispers, here and there, "Peter's back.  Peter's back."

As he is wont to do, after he touches down gently, Peter wanders into an alleyway and looks for friends to see what's going on.

After a couple hundred years of wandering around the maze and thinking about everything there is to think about, Peter sees an old cat friend.  His old friend doesn't seem to be doing too well.

"Hey Pete," she mumbles as she straightens herself out.  She was just scavenging for rat or mice bones. "You hear for long?"

"Hey Jaide.  Nah.  I should be waking up soon.  It's good to be back, though.  Things seem kinda the same around here.  I've been walking around for a couple years just now."

"Ah.  I see.  That's cool."  Jaide looks around, as if she wishes Peter would just leave already so she could continue to look for bones and shit.  She cocks her head down and her eyes kind of just wander around; she won't make any more effort to entertain Pete.

Pan looks at her, noticing what she is doing, and now he won't let her go on about her day without her explicitly saying she's going to leave or wants him to leave.  Neither says anything.

Finally, "What?  It's my fault I don't want to grow up?"

"What do you want here Peter?"

"Hell, you do whatever you want, but why should I have to grow up, if I don't want to?"

"Everybody grows up, and you think you can just fuck off and do nothing and just play around your whole life?  You're thirty-five now.  Don't you think you should fucking grow up?"  Jaide looks Peter in the eyes.  She's not really mad, but rather, she is looking for answers--she's miserable you see?

"I don't think I have to do anything.  Shit, if you don't wanna be looking for fucking dead rats, why don't you stop and come hang out with me and the Lost Boys?"

"You have to grow up Pete.  Everybody does," resignedly, and her face becomes literally downcast.

Peter Pan starts to get fed up with Jaide, "Listen, go fuck yourself, ya?  You want me to grow up to make you feel better about yourself--about the decisions you've made in your life.  Well, I'm not going to 'grow up!'  I don't have to, and you didn't have to, so go scrounge up your fucking skeleton rats and suck the fucking meat off of them.  Go eat the scraps that you have earned by 'growing up!'"  And Pan started getting a little bit heated, "Go home and go fuck your pussy husband and you can both be pussies.  What is growing up?  Not 'rocking the boat?'  And who says not to do that?  This weird gray world?  Well fuck it.  I'm not going to do what people tell me to do just because it's what you're 'supposed' to do.  I won't have a metaphorical or real tyrant rule my life.  I am free.  I have always been told I am not free and that I have to follow all the rules.  Well, no I don't!  I won't have someone trying to make me feel guilty.  I have dealt with that since I was in kindergarten.  People telling me what to do and looking at me like I'm some kind of fucking misfit.  I'm through taking that kind of shit.  God is my only God.  You go play grown ups, and don't try to make me feel bad about living the way I want to live.  Do you see me doing that to you?  You know what?  Some people are naturals at that sort of thing--getting married.  Some people force it.  Some people are forced.  I happen to be a free spirit.  I AM FREE.  I can't be tied down, for some reason.  I'm sorry about that.  I don't know if I'll ever change.  If ever I do change, I hope it's because I want to, and because it's the right and good thing to do.  You fucking succumbed to what you thought you were supposed to do, and now you want to make me feel bad about it, so you want me to do it too, to vindicate yourself.  Some friend you are.  Go fuck off, and apologize to me when you're ready."

Little Jaide Cat just stared at the ground.  "I'm sorry Pete... some of us... just don't know what to do, and we get lonely... and well fuck it.  Some of us don't have many options..."

"We all have options."

"Ya, but you've never been as lonely as some of us have been."

"Well, then shit man, don't complain about it, at least.  If you were so lonely, you should have realized that and made a plan and stuck to it."

"Easier said than done, and now all of that is in the past, and there is nothing I can do about it."

"Right.  I'm sorry."

"What can I do?"  She pleads with her eyes into Peter's eyes.

Peter thinks.  And then finally, "You put yourself in a tough situation Pussy.  All is not lost, though.  To get out of a tough situation, we can only expect that it is going to be tough, no?  Yes.  Do what I tell you to do and things well get better.  It is going to be hard, but if you don't do it, then just enjoy your life as it is.  Drink wine at night, and try to fall in love with the life you have chosen all over again; soak it in.  Marinate in that shit."

"What is it?  Tell me what to do, and I will try to do it."

"You're going to be disappointed by my advice, but I guarantee you it will work.  If it does not work, I will be your slave servant and get married or whatever.  Here it is and do them in this order: read all of Plato's works and take notes, then read the Bible.  Do not take notes, but rather try to enjoy the stories and history and teachings--really try to enjoy it.  Then read Augustine's Confessions and take notes.  Then read all of Hemingway's work.  Then read Catcher in the Rye, and then, watch all of the episodes of LOST, and then watch every single movie Christian Bale and Daniel Day-Lewis have ever been in.  After this, watch and thoroughly enjoy every episode of Breaking Bad.  When you finish doing all of this, I will give you suggestions on more books to read, and you will read them and write your own original short stories concurrently.  I will also give you books on different philosophies to read.  After all of this, you will watch every episode of Seinfeld and Curb Your Enthusiasm.  Finally, the last thing you will do is watch every stand up comedy act that Louis C.K. has done, and watch every episode of Louie.  I guarantee you that you will know what to do, know how to feel, and be a much more, if not fully, content person.  You won't have these odd shitty feelings you have of resentment and desperation as much, and if you do you will learn to appreciate them and know how to handle them.  You think I don't go through shit, but I do."  Pan gives her his biggest smile, "I believe in you Jaide!"  And he gives her a great, big hug.  As he pulls away, Jaide sees that Peter has gotten teary eyed.

"You're fucking crazy Peter."  Now she is crying tears of happiness.  For some reason she is full of joy and hope.  "I don't know if I can do all that shit Pete, but I'll try, you weird fuck."  She hugs Peter Pan and gives him a sweet kiss on the cheek.

"Be well babe.  I'm outta here.  We'll catch up soon."

Jaide runs off and around a corner and Peter Pan leans back against a grimy, alleyway wall, "Fuck man," he mutters to himself and then smiles.

Marriage, kids, a job, it all crosses his mind, as he gets lost in the view of the silver clouds.  Those things might be nice he muses, maybe some day.  He muses some more: I just really don't like people assuming that I'm going to be like every body else.  Don't talk back to or challenge authority.  Don't rock the boat.  Don't change your mind.  Don't say or think weird fucking things like, "Blow jobs are so weird!  There's like totally another person sucking your dick off!  Their whole face is in your crotch!  And your balls are like right there!  And the girl touches and licks them!  It's absolutely INSANE!  Who made that up!  It was like, 'Hey girl I wanna see if it feels good if you put your whole mouth on my cock.  Would you mind?'  And the girl is all like, 'Uh, sure, but then you gotta lick my butt hole to see if that feels good for me.'  Ok, deal!"

What am I to do he ponders.  I have always grown up with such freedom, and I am supposed to just follow the masses, because... just because?  I feel fine doing things my way, he figures out.  Convinced, and his feelings are true, he admits to himself, "I feel fine."

Back in Neverland, Peter wakes up peppy and happy and rushes to find the sexy little Tinker Bell.  He finds her.

Tinkerbell exclaims, "Yay!  You're all mine for the rest of the day and all night!"

Peter Pan is happy, "There is no rush, baby.  No rush at all.  Life is far too short for there to be any rush at all."  He grabs a hold of her hand (she's back to human size again), she is wearing her green sparkly mini skirt, with the super low neckline that shows how wonderful her breasts are, and they walk to a beautiful park to enjoy the sunset in Neverland, as they make out under the awakening stars.

GUN CONTROL: Adam and Eve Really Fucked Us

I think what Ice-T says is pretty good [VIDEO AT THE BOTTOM].

Is it true that if we make all guns (or just the gnarly ones) illegal, murder rates will go down?  We can't know.

What we can know is that guns will remain in the hands of mostly two groups: cops, and criminals (i.e. gangsters, murderers, madmen, etc.).  And the criminals will get their guns easily, if they want them bad enough and are willing to pay/take the risk to get them.

All sorts of drugs are illegal in the U.S. and they are incredibly easy to get, and the same two groups control them (cops and robbers).

Back to Ice-T's point, if cops and robbers are the only ones that have the guns, what do normal people have to protect themselves against those two groups?  It would be naive to believe that there are no corrupt cops (look up any atrocious acts by cops, military, and border patrol agents sometime); these people aren't perfect moral beings--they're just people.  Don't get me wrong: I appreciate and love the protection that citizens get from good cops, good military, and good border patrol agents; fucking rotten apples suck, and it sucks that we all have at least a little bit of rotten apple in us (Molls more so ... hehe I make joke).

We seem to know how many people have been killed by people using guns on people, but it's probably impossible to know how many lives have been saved (or crimes thwarted) by guns.  I imagine that guns have deterred many people from committing crimes or killing people; it would be silly to think otherwise.

So if we leave all the guns (or just the hardcore weaponry) in the hands of criminals and cops, I would imagine that crimes and killings would go up--not down.  I don't believe there is any proof that shows that if you pass gun control laws, killings and crimes will go down.

Another thought, it is estimated that over 750,000 Rwandans were murdered by other Rwandans that were armed with only machetes... 500,000 machetes (I got this info from the crazy fuck Greg Gutfeld). You don't need guns for mass murder--just insanity.  And obviously we aren't going to make knives or machetes illegal.

Guns don't kill people: people kill people.

Taking guns away, or making them illegal (or some of them or whatever), doesn't solve the problem.  Rwanda is proof.  Homemade bombs are proof.  Corrupt government officials are proof.

What is the answer?  I don't know.  Keep fighting criminals I suppose.  Not everyone will follow George Harrison's advice: "Everything else can wait, but the search for God cannot wait; and love one another."

Some things are impossible to prevent, and that is a harsh reality.  People fucking suck, but people can be beautiful too.  We simply live in a fucked world and almost always have...

Adam and Eve really fucked us.

Showers With Strangers

I don't like taking showers with strangers... actually, I don't mind that much.

Everyone is in there, and you think to yourself, "Should I keep my damn underwear on?"  Everyone else is naked, though, so you follow un-suit.

When everyone has clothes on, everyone acknowledges everyone else with a nod--at least in Southern California that's normal.

Get into public showers, and you don't acknowledge anyone.  Bunch of fucking naked fucks walking around ignoring each other; you just gotta take that fucking shower at the public showers--you know... because you're there anyway, and you don't really want to get home and have to take a fucking shower.

You don't know if you should face the wall and be bearing your ass out to all the other dudes that are probably looking at your ass to see if you look weird--to see if you have a weird ass: hairy, saggy, wrinkly, super small, super big, roundy, squarey, shitty, flat... roundy.  And plus, you can't see if someone's gonna try to rape you!

Or, you can take the shower with your cock facing out.  This way you can see guys walking by and they won't look at your cock because they know you're keeping an eye on them.  Motherfuckers.  This way, though, you are constantly accidentally looking at weird, shitty cocks.  No bueno.

It'd be better if these public showers always only had one hot girl and me in them.  That'd be ok.

I don't mind that much really though because we're all just fucking humans trying to take a fucking shower in a convenient place.  Fuck it.  Just don't think about the girl from Transformers 3 while you're in there...

The shower floors are always grimy and slimy too...

Let's Kiss Again Then: Thanks To David Jobe

Many a moon ago, Ismael and I were recording songs in Ismael's room.  We still do this, actually.  Ismael has gotten really good at recording us.

Back in 2005 (or somewhere around then), Ismael and I had recorded a bunch of demos in his room.  Out of those demos we chose eight potential songs to record in a studio.  We were planning on recording four songs at Scott McKay Gibson's studio.  So we had to choose four songs out of the eight finalists.

I, loving Coldplay and U2, picked a couple songs that were more on the epic side.  The songs were called "New Orleans," "Everybody Wants To Be In Love," "We Can Make It," and "Something Flashing."

Ismael, being more esoteric, picked "Sweet Little Harmony," "Everybody Wants To Be In Love," "Come and Knock On My Door," and maybe "Dark World."

Two things were clear at this point: "Everybody Wants To Be In Love" was going to make the cut, and a simple song called "Let's Kiss Again Then" was not.  Like most songs, we wrote "Let's Kiss Again Then" on a whim, and though it sounded cool, for some reason or another, we were more attached to the other songs.

By chance (and as usual), we had a new bass player--our old friend David Jobe.  I invited Jobesies over to our house, so that he could check out the eight songs we had chosen as finalists to pick four from.

David Jobe had been familiar with our shit since the absolute beginning.  He booked our old punk band, Home By Faith, when I was 16 and Ismael was 15 at his old church.  Then we started Long Live Logos and he booked us many times, and we hung out all the time, and for a time, before he joined the band, we were all best friends.  It was always Dave, his wife Bethany, Ismael, Sam, Ivan, our cousin Dave, Dave's friend Josh, Josh's wife, and me hanging out--other friends would hang out once in a while as well.

We would all chill and get drunk at his old house, or at his old apartment, and we would all just dance or watch movies.  I even lost my virginity at his old apartment... but, don't tell anyone about that.  Things would get crazy.  It was ALWAYS fun.

Well, Dave listened to all the songs, and even though they were shitty demos, he understood their future potential once recorded by Scott.

One listen through all of the songs, and Dave said, "You HAVE to record "Let's Kiss Again Then."

I said, "What the fuck?  Are you serious?  That one wasn't making the cut, actually.  We're spending $500 to record four songs, so we kind of want to choose our favorites."

Dave said, "Well, I'll give you $100 to pitch in on the recording, if you record 'Let's Kiss Again Then.'"

I ended up telling Ismael about it, and we agreed to record "Let's Kiss Again Then," "Come and Knock On My Door," "New Orleans," and "Everybody Wants To Be In Love," and "Sweet Little Harmony" was thrown in last minute.  The EP was called Marquis Romance.

"Let's Kiss Again Then" would NOT have been recorded if it were for David Jobe.

That song was immediately a favorite amongst friends, fans, A&R and label folk, managers, producers, our lawyer, and it ended up being played many times on San Diego radio stations, and finally it was on ABC television show Cavemen.  That EP helped us get our first tour.  Dave, Ismael, Travis, and I shared our first tour together.

I miss you Dave.  Thanks for the influence David Jobe.  Thanks for "Let's Kiss Again Then."  You will always be a part of Long Live Logos.

You were one of the few that FOREVER changed and shaped the future of Long Live Logos.

You were a great friend, and we love you, and we will never forget you.

RIP David Jobe... See ya soon.

Dave, Danny, Travis, Ismael - First Long Live Logos tour - 2006

The Cool Orphan

There was a shitload of orphans everywhere when I was ushered in.  I don't know what I was expecting; it was an orphanage after all.

So, I walked in and the first thought I had was, "Shit.  Everyone in here already knows each other and I'm the fucking new kid.  They'll be talking and knowing each other all well and comfortable and shit, and I'll be all quiet like a fucking dickhead.  They'll think I'm a dickhead.  And worse still, I'll probably end up integrating into the group, and then I'll be all fucking normal talking to everyone here as if I've known them for years, and they'll be my 'friends,' and then some new kid will arrive, and he'll feel all shitty and alone... fuck that.  I'm not integrating.  I'm not making friends with anyone any more."

That was the first thought I had when I walked into my new home.

I noticed some girls right off the bat.  OFF THE BAT.  I hate that saying.  I'm not going to use it any more.  So, I saw these girls right away.  Here and there, they were.  I'm talking about the beautiful ones.  The ugly ones are never surprising.  I see an ugly girl, and I'm not surprised.  I simply think, "Oh, there's a fucking girl."

But when I see a beautiful girl, I'm always surprised.  I think, "Holy shit!  There's a beautiful girl!  I can't fucking believe it!"

I walked in all cool, but my cool was taken away after I saw the couple beautiful orphan girls here and there.  I always liked seeing poor, beautiful girls.  I don't know why.  It's like, you see all these amazing looking girls in Hollywood and crap that are rich and have it all and crap, and you kind of expect them to be rich... because they're beautiful after all.

But in here, there are some of the most beautiful girls I've ever seen, and they're poor as fuck!  Shit, they're abandoned and/or alone, just like me.  I love it.  I wonder what it feels like to be extremely good looking.  I've asked some extremely good looking people what it feels like, and I always get the same sort of answer: "I don't know.  It feels normal."  My ass it feels normal.  It must feel great.

The adults ushering me in began their spew, "This is Daniel, everyone!  He is..."

She would have kept going, but I put an end to that bullshit, "Hello everyone!  I DO NOT want to be friends with anyone!  Thank you!"  I walked off to a corner.  I knew the drill very well.  There was nothing to do but wait for food or whatever the fuck they'd have us do in here.

Nothing to do.

I went to some fucking corner, turned around, tilted my body back until it hit the wall, and then slowly let myself crumple to the floor until I could rest my chin on my knees.

I watched everyone be friends.  Good for them.  I said that a lot in my head: "Good for them."  I tried saying it differently.  I stressed different words in the sentence.

Good for them.

Good for them.

Good for them.

Good for them.

Weird.

A beautiful girl walked by.  I reminded myself: You DO NOT want to befriend ANYONE.

I especially didn't want to fall in love with or like a girl.  Fucking-A is it hard to get a beautiful girl to like or to love you.  Fuck that.

Worse is when they just want to be friends.

I sat there watching them all, and I really hoped I wouldn't integrate into the group.  I didn't want to do that at all.

Danny and Mario: Baby Stroller Mother

"Mario."

"What up?"

"I can almost see up that girl's skirt."

"Where?"

"Right the fuck over there... three o'clock to you."

"AM or PM?"

"Yes..."

"Fuck.  She seriously just has to bend over like eight degrees more and we'll be able to see her underwear."

"I know, you fuck."

"Wait.  Wait patiently, son."

Mario and Danny waited patiently.  No one could see what they were up to though.  But, yes, they wanted to see up this girl's skirt... to look at her underwear, or whatever was under there.

"Fuck... almost... almost...," both of them said.

"You think that's her kid?"  Asked Mario.

"Yea, it has to be her kid, but shush dude.  We're almost there."

"Fuck, she even has a hot face.  A plus."

They were looking on--intently.  If they were lucky, they would catch a glimpse of what was underneath the flowery tiny min-skirt that the woman was wearing, if they were lucky.

"Please...," both said.

"HEY!"  Some big ass fuck yelled.

"HOLY SHIT!"  Mario yelled, "You scared the shit out of me, bro."

"HAHA!  He scared me too," Danny laughed and looked at this big buff faggot guy.

"What are you guys doing?"  Buff faggot guy asked Mario and Danny.

Well, shit, neither Danny nor Mario quite liked this guy's tone.  They turned their full ass attention to this guy.  This guy was about three feet taller than Danny and about a foot taller than Mario.  Mario poked this motherfucker hard, right on the chest.

"Can we help you?"  Mario asked

"Ouch.  You sons of bitches.  Were you trying to look up that lady's skirt?"  Big guy turned into a real pussy.

"Hey, can we help you?"  Danny pierced the big guy's poor little skull with his stare.

"Were you trying to look up that lady's skirt?"

Danny almost lost it.

"Hey you fucking asshole, you better just leave, or Danny alone is going to kick the shit out of you."  Well, you could tell Mario was concerned for the big galoot, but you could also tell that he was serious as all hell--and hell is serious as fuck.  Mario got a little closer to the big fuck, "You better fucking leave, princess."

Danny turned his back on Mario and the big guy.  He was, sure as hell, losing it, "Mario.  Tell this guy to beat it."

"Beat it, pussy."  Mario got in the big guy's face.

"You... you guys... you guys are faggots."  Well, the big guy said the wrong thing now, didn't he.

Danny turned around, "Come here you motherfucker!"

The big guy was stunned, but he didn't back down.  Danny rushed him, jumped like five feet in the air, grabbed the big guys collar, and then tripped him by making him lose his balance.  Once Danny was above this big fuck, he started slapping the big guy hard on the face and yelling in his face, "What do you want?!  Huh?!  You want me to kick your pussy ass?!"  Danny sure was slapping the shit out of this fuck.  One would wonder, why wasn't Danny just punching this fucker.  Well, there's a different element to slapping someone than there is to punching him.  After slapping and yelling at him around for a bit Danny backed off.

"Mario..."

Mario stepped up, "Bro just get the fuck out of here.  Don't say anything."

The big guy got up, dusted his clothes off proudly, and got the fuck out of dodge.

"Damn it man."  Danny was pissed.  He hated slapping dudes around, "Is she still around?"

"Nah, she's gone," Mario grinned his big ass fucking usual grin.  Danny and Mario pounded their dumb ass fists together.

"A motherfucker can't try to look up a woman's skirt in peace these days," one of them said.

"We were so close to seeing her underwear dude," one of them responded.

They walked off into the sunset or sunrise or one way or another.

I Saw So Little (True)

From now on, when writing these things, I'll let you know if they were true, partly true, or just plain fiction.  It will be designated by a (True), or a (Partly True), and a (Fiction).  I'll also let you know when it's an opinion piece.  Ok?  This story, about me, is true.  And it's fun... or at least I think so :)

I saw so little.  It was so weird how little I saw.

I'm in fucking 2nd grade.  In 2nd grade I didn't use the word "fucking" yet.

My teacher, Mrs. Armstrong (she didn't have a first name; I assure it), was awesome.  Yes, she put me with the slow reading group (even though I was an avid reader), but still... she was pretty awesome.  She would cross her legs, and she would wear a tight business type dress all the time.  How old is a 2nd grader?  I'm 30 now.  I don't know how old fucking 2nd graders are.  They definitely aren't old enough for me to hit on them, so who cares.

So, I'm in 2nd grade, and Mrs. Armstrong crosses her legs, and she is wearing a tight business type skirt that cuts off above the knee.  As a 2nd grader, I didn't care about the hotness of the matter: I just noticed these things.  She crossed her legs, and, loudly, I would say "I can cross my legs like that too!"  And I would cross them like she did.  Shit, if I saw a woman cross her legs that way now (and I do all the time), I'd get a boner (and I do... no matter who's crossing their legs like that... I get a boner.  Hot, tight, business skirt that cuts over the knees with legs crossing all over the place?  Yes, I get a boner).

Mrs. Armstrong didn't mind me mimicking her and hitting girls and tearing apart other students' drawings.  She was cool.  And she didn't look bad.  As a 2nd grader, I didn't get boners or think of girls in that way.  As far as girls were concerned, they were either your girlfriend (which didn't have any sexual meaning to it--she was just your "girlfriend"--someone you were going to marry I guess), or she was a stupid girl you were supposed to aim rocks at.

One fine fucking day, Mrs Armstrong let us go to the Lego convention that had set up in our fucking library.  Awesome!  For a 2nd grader, going to a bullshit Lego convention was AWESOME.  We were going to be able to see cool scenes of Legos!  Some old ass man ass had built up a little Lego convention for us.  We would get to walk by every fucking Lego scene and say things like, "Wow, this little Lego man is wearing a construction hat, and there goes the cement truck, perfect!"  Or, "Hey cool!  Here's a little Lego Zebra!  He's in a goddam Lego Zoo!  I can't fucking believe it!"  Or, "Well look here Elizabeth!!!  Here's a goddam fucking Lego scene where there's a Lego prostitute giving a Lego old ass taxi driving Lego man's dick off!  And his little Lego fucking Taxi cab is outside the little fucking Lego ass broken down Lego hotel!  I love it Elizabeth!  And hey!  CLASS!  I just heard Elizabeth FART!!!  EWWWW!!! SHE SUCKS!!!  Let's throw rocks at her Mexican ass!"  I couldn't wait to go to this goddam show! :)

Oh, but wait.  Mrs. Armstrong had a warning for us before we got to go check out the dicksucking Lego antics of the beautiful Lego prostitute.

"Class!  We get to go see the Lego exhibit in the library of the school.  Our proud Escondido Juniper Elementary School!  But, ONE RULE," she said.  "One rule," Mrs. Armstrong said.  My ears perked up. Rule?  A rule?  Hmmm, this is going to be interesting.  Why would there be a rule to go see the Legos?  I just want to see the Legos, thought my 2nd grade big brain.  "The rule," Mrs. Armstrong said, "is that if anyone of you sons-of-bitches stealing a Lego, you will be in BIG trouble... if I even HEAR of one of you stealing a Lego, you will be in BIG trouble!"  No one that is in 2nd grade wants to be in BIG trouble; I'll tell you that!  I have nieces that tell me about the horrors of being in BIG trouble (they're in 2nd grade or so).

Well fuckin-a.  I was pissed.  This is a true story.  The first thing my 2nd grade brain thought was: WHO THE FUCK SAID ANYONE WAS GOING TO STEAL A FUCKING LEGO!?  WE JUST WANT TO SEE THE GODDAM LEGOS!  Well fuck this, I thought to myself.  No one was going to steal a Lego (I knew this because I was the leader of the whole school, and nobody would steal anything without my permission).  Well fuck this.  Just because of this odd accusation, I decided to steal a Lego.

In we went.  The Lego exhibit was stunning!  I enjoyed it for a time, but then it was time.  "Hey Luke... cover me... I'm going to steal that Lego head off that Lego man."

"Danny... You shouldn't... you really shouldn't," Luke said.

"Shut the fuck up and stand behind this bookcase and look out goddam it."

Luke peered around the bookcase and gave me the goddam thumbs up.  I walked by a seen and snatched up my own little Lego head.  That'll teach Mrs. Armstrong I thought to myself pleasantly.  I walked for about thirty more seconds, and then I heard her beautiful voice.

"Alright class!  Everyone!  Outside!"

How the fuck did she find out!  NO NO NO NO NO NO!

I looked around for the class misfit (other than me) Aaron.  He was a red-head, and he had a propensity for beating up nerds every weak.  "Hey Aaron, take the Lego head man.  She's gonna catch me!"

"No can do Danny.  You're on your own."

SHE put us up against the wall outside of the library: "One of you stole a Lego head.  Who was it?"

No one said a peep.  All the students knew better than to snitch on me or Aaron.

"OK then.  I will search every ONE of you ONE BY ONE."

And down the line she came.  I put my hand in my pocket.  Inside my pocket, I grabbed the awesome little Lego head and made a fist around it and kept my hand in my pocket.  I noticed a trashcan, not but two feet away.  She was too close.  She was two students away from me.  I pulled my little 2nd grade fist out.  Both of my arms went down to the ground straight.  I stood like a misfit soldier.  Aaron was to my left, "Please?"  "Nope."  We both looked straight ahead.  We had both been to the Principle's Office before, but never did we relish going back to it.

"Danny?" SHE asked.

No response came from me other than the following.  I stuck my arm straight out (90 degrees from my body with the palm of my little fist facing up).

"Yes?"  SHE asked.

I opened my little fist to reveal the little Lego head.  I looked straight ahead, right past Mrs. Armstrong's waistline.  Aaron was proud.

"Give that to me.  Off to the Principle's Office with you.  We're going to call your parents."  I was marched off by some yard duty bitch or some shit.

I was like seven years old.  Twenty years later: "Sir, do you know where you are?" Some officer was talking to me: I think.

"Huh?"

"Sir, are you drunk?"

"Huh?  I ain't saying nothing.  Leave me alone."

"Off to jail with this guy."

"You can't beat me.  None of you can beat me... but I like you guys... you guys are nice, and I apologize for being drunk in public.  Off to the jail with me old chaps."

Never Ending Tilting

::In My Neck Of The Woods::

I walked out my front door and saw the world tilting away from me.  It was gradual, but it was not happening slowly.  I saw people falling to outer space instead of falling down.  And when they passed our atmosphere, their little bodies exploded.  I saw little red explosions everyone in the sky.  I'll tell you what it looked like:

The sky was blue everywhere else like it was the happiest day ever, and there were happy fluffy white fucking clouds spotting the sky; little red roses were exploding everywhere.

Soon, probably my family and I would fall into the sky and explode too.  At least none of us would die before the other, so none of would have to miss the other ones at all really.

I ran into the house.

"Hey!  Everyone!  The world is tilting and everyone is falling into outer space!"

My whole family congregated in the living room.

We all hugged and said our goodbyes.  We even shook hands too.  I told my brothers and sister that it was good to know them and that everything was always funny and a good time.  I told my parents thanks.  They all said the same things to each other.  We sat on the ceiling of the house.

::On The Other Side Of The World::

A deaf and dumb thirteen year old girl saw everyone falling into the skies.  Bunch of idiots they all were anyway.  She wasn't falling up yet so she went in and out of different stores grabbing things to eat and drink: milk, orange juice, chips, a sandwich, or whatever.

She walked over to a park and sat down on a bolted down bench.  Geez.  Everyone was yelling so much and crying and terrified.  Geez.

She couldn't wait to fly off and pop.  Then she would be beautiful!  She felt pretty good not having to sneak around and steal to eat and drink for once.  She leaned back and waited.  She thought about what this world had been for the last thirteen years.  She thought:

Let's see... no parents.  I wonder what it felt like to have parents.  I probably had siblings somewhere out there at some point... but they probably died a long time ago... if I had any.  Hmm... I hate being raped.  Good god do I hate being raped.  I can't wait to pop off and put all this shit behind me.  I wish I was fat with all the food in the world!  I'm hungry again.  I've always been hungry.  I hate being all alone and all the kids always steal my money when I have any.  I'm just a dirty little smudge of trash.

Well, she started floating slowly and started falling into the sky.  She closed her eyes.  She thought, "After I explode... I'll finally be able to sing... and I'll hear myself sing.  And I won't sing for anyone.  I'll go to a far corner and be all alone..."

She kept falling and thinking: "No... I'll find a corner somewhere far away from anyone.  I'll chop off my stupid arms and legs.  I'll grow my arms into a mom and dad.  I'll grow my legs into a brother and a sister.  They'll love me and think I'm funny.  I'll grow all my limbs back and we'll all sing and dance and laugh."

She must have been pretty high because she started feeling pretty lightheaded.  And she thought, "And no one... no one... no one will ever... no one will ever..."  She had a warm feeling; a warm feeling flooded; she felt fine.  "No one will ever rape me again."

Poof.  She exploded.

The Rat RAPE

There was a rat and he wanted to bone a rat girl.  They were out in the fields, so they were cleaner than those city rats.

The guy rat wasn't ugly.  He was a regular somewhat cool rat.  The rat girl was hot as fuck though.  All the rat guys wanted to fuck her because she'd probably have good ass rat babies.

Well one day out in the fields, the one rat dude found the hot rat girl all out on her own sniffing the ground or whatever the fuck rats do out in the fields.

He scared the shit out of her on accident.

"Oh shit!  You scared me rat boy."

"Oh shit!  I'm sorry.  I didn't mean to."

"Oh you're fine.  You're fine.  Don't worry about it.  Fuck, it's mating season and I'm starting to get all hot and shit."

"Well, I'm glad I found you out here in the fields.  Let's have sex (aka fuck)."

"Oh I'm sorry rat guy.  I don't find you attractive.  I don't like how you sing and... you're not that big.  I'm gonna go find another rat dude that I would like to bone me before mating season passes like last season and I didn't get to fuck any rats."

"Well hold on a second."  The rat kid got close to the rat girl.  "Come on.  Fuck me instead."

"Nope.  I don't want to have your shitty rat babies.  Bye."

"Oh no you don't!"  The rat boy jumped on the rat girl and fucked her right on the spot.  He raped the rat girl.  When he was done he lied on his back and looked at the sky.

The rat girl scurried off to tell her rat family that she was probably pregnant now and that the species would proliferate blah blah blah.

The rat guy was still lying on his back pondering the skies and his dick was all limp and un-boner-ized.  He smiled to himself and thought, "I sure am glad I'm an animal and that there's really no such thing as rape for us."  He rubbed his bare belly and he was smiling.  His penis (aka dick) was all hanging out limp and shit and he was dozing off...

...that rat fuck all of a sudden heard some rustling in the grass where he was lying.  He didn't know how long he had been asleep for.

"What's up motherfucker."

"Oh shit!  You scared the shit out of me... who are you?"  It was dark and the rat guy couldn't tell what rat guy was talking to him.  And then, all of a sudden, a bunch of rat silhouettes appeared, surrounding him.  "Uh, hey guys... what's up?"  He sounded like a fucking pussy all of a sudden.

"Oh... we think you know what's up."

There were about fifty rats in the rat pack.  They beat the shit of the rapist rat almost to death.  He was a bloody pulp with his eyes all hanging out and shit.

"Not gonna rape again are you, you rapist motherfucker."  They all said.

"No."  He croaked out.

And then they beat the shit out of him again and killed him and one of them said:

"You're right.  You won't."  And then he spit on him.

Virginia and William: In the Fields of Howl

This one guy had never had sex before.  This guy's name was William... some people called him Dick.

This one gal had never had sex before.  Her name was Virginia, but when children tried to say her name it sounded like "Vagina."

Anyway, they both met somewhere in Nebraska; they were both from New York or Boston or Chicago.  They were both quite good looking.  Mr Dick had perfect eyebrows and a nice nose and his hair did not have an air of pretentiousness to it.

Vagina had a shy smile that made your fucking heart sink and fall in love.  She did this thing where she would look you in the eyes and then lower her gaze as if she had fucked up--shaking her head a little.

Anyway, they were in South Dakota on business and they met at a McDonald's by chance.

"Hello, I'm not from around here.  Would you happen to know where I can buy a Lamborghini?  I like to drive fast."  Dick.

"Excuse me... are you hitting on me?  Just because I'm from Indiana doesn't mean I'm going to fawn over the first guy from California that hits on me you know?"

"I'm from New York."

"I'm supposed to be impressed?  Hell, even I'm from New York."

"I can tell, actually."  Dick smiled.  "I'm Will.  What the hell are you doing out here in North Dakota?"

"Business."  She smiled and then looked down.

"Why are we in a Burger King right now?"

"No clue.  Wanna take a drive in my car?  It goes fast, and there are plenty of long roads here in Montana."  Vagina.

The girl was cool and let the guy drive her fast car and he drove it fast as hell.  The guy was happy and the girl was happy because he was happy and because she had made someone happy, if not, at least, for a little bit.

They ended up somewhere in the mountains of Wyoming.  The sun was going down or up and it was all very cool.  She parked the car somewhere cool.

"Isn't all of this lovely?  Meeting each other randomly in Missouri and we're both from New York."

"Yea... it's great!"

"You seem pretty cool, Will."

"Don't we all?"

"Maybe we are though."  And Vagina gave her sweet smile.  Dick leaned in for a kiss.

"Hah!  You wish!  And I wish too, but let's not.  Let's go to Mount Rushmore instead."

So they went to Mount Rushmore, which was only two minutes away.  They stood on the mountainous busts of ex-presidents.  Vagina took hold of Dick's hand and cuddled up against him; they were about the same height.

"Did you hear about how the world is ending?"  Vag asked.

"Yea, I just heard about that.  It's supposed to end today.  The world is gonna end today.  It's all just going to stop."

Well, the sun started setting on the hills of Idaho and Michigan.  Far off, they could see cities crumbling and people dying.  Even further away, they saw stars exploding and the universe imploding.

"Well, it's all going to shit," she said.  "Maybe it's all for the best."

"What would you do, if you could do anything, right now?"  Dick says.  "I know, at the moment, we can't just do anything... we don't have the resources.  But, if you could choose anything, what would you do?"

"Maybe some drugs or alcohol.  I would want to be at the pinnacle of an insane drug or alcohol high.  Just be beyond happy.  Beyond what normal dopamine can do.  I would want an insanely huge orgasm too."

Right there, in the middle of Montana, some drugs fell from the sky like manna.  A voice boomed over the heavens, "eat, and be merry."

The two idiots gobbled up the drugs and felt amazing.  The whole world was crashing around them and they began having sex.  They must have been on MDMA or something because everything felt more amazing... but, then again, they were both virgins, so what did they know?

She moaned her brain off.

He grunted like the caveman he was.

Her tits all up in his face.

His dick all up inside her.

The whole universe came crashing into them, and they disappeared.  They disappeared all embraced as fuck and shit.

They woke up in some fields all alone but together.  The fields were happy; they were like the fields in Howl's Moving Castle.  Everything was like living in some nostalgic wonderland of happiness and they didn't know anything else.

Nothing was corrupted.

Nothing was spoiled.

Nothing was tainted.

Nothing was rotten.

Nothing was ugly.

Nothing was shit.

Nothin' was bad.

Everything was rad.

Everything was good.

Everything was perfect.

Everything was beautiful,

And everything was forever.