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Wednesday, June 13, 2001 at 14:50
They were still there under the street light and for the first time, as they turned to walk away, he caught their eye. The rain came harder now, drumming off car roofs but he remained, fixed, until the blue jacket was out of vision.

Thursday, June 14, 2001 at 15:27
Now the moment when he might have burst across the street to confront them had past he fancied he could smell the metallic tang of fear around him.In the recess of the doorway he saw the nightwatchman. Fuck you, he thought angrily, ignoring the deferential 'Good night'. Fuck you all.The worst of the traffic had passed and he slipped into a break soon enough. Hestitating momentarily at the stoplights he decided against going home. His mind was in turmoil but already the hiss of tires on the wet road was having a hypnotic effect. Not that there was any chance of his sleeping.Too many thoughts. When he finally went home he would let them spill unchecked across the pages of his journal. Writing like a man possessed until he was spent. Safely containing his dreams until another day when he would be able to dip into them dispassionately.Thats it, he thought, containment! Already he felt better. But right now what he needed was divertion.

Monday, June 18, 2001 at 16:00
He turned the car slowly into the narrow driveway, long left unmaintained it was a minefield of ruts and potholes. Waxy green, overgrown shrubbery clawed at the expensive paintwork making him wince, when at last the lane opened into a wide sweep in front of the house.The headlights were flattering to the once grand plantation house, throwing shadows over peeling paintwork and sagging porches. He stood for a moment willing the painful throbbing in his chest to stop. Before he had run halfway up the shallow semi circular stairs the front door opened a crack allowing a thin sliver of light to penetrate the darkness.

Thursday, July 5, 2001 at 22:04
The lightest touch pushed open the massive door to reveal an interior that showed none of the neglect apparent of outside. The grand entrance hall with its wide sweeping staircase fairly gleamed in the soft candle light. A heavily paneled door stood ajar, he walked purposely towards it trying hard to ignore the erratic beat of his heart. He knew the room well and was no longer surprised by the crystal goblet that awaited him on a fireside table. Settling back he gently cupped the glass, barely letting it rest on the worn velvet of the armchair. The wine tasted intensely red with a sweet musky after taste. He sipped it slowly luxuriating in warm flush that swept through his body, until all but his breathing was stilled. Even now, after all the times he had made this journey he was still alarmed by the way he was able to view himself from above, from somewhere outside of the room. He waited for her voice and the sent of lilacs that would tell him she had joined him at last.Then she would begin, would lead him into a dream, an adventure. Her milky old ladies voice kept him calm, guiding him. Where would she take him tonight he wondered briefly before it became too late for concious thought. The room was slipping away now, soon to be replaced by another place in time. He felt her cool dry palm brush his forehead - the last signal that it was to begin.

Thursday, July 26, 2001 at 11:18
His vision narrowed as thought looking through the wrong end of a telescope. He knew enough not to strain against this strange sensation and that on its passing he would assume the role of voyeur yet be able to experience all the sensations of a participant in whatever drama was about to unfold.However this was not what he was expecting, this broad expanse of blue sky, this dazzling early morning sun: boy running exhilarated through knee high grass. He tried to pull back, to stop the scene from unfolding. This was not what he was expecting, not what he wanted at all! Suddenly the sun was shrouded and he believed he caught the sweet pungent smell of turkish cigarettes. Yes! thats more like it he thought, the dark subterranean bar, its air redolent with the aromas of coffee, liquor and foreign cigarettes....He gasped for breath the pain in his side was very real as with unbelievable force he was propelled back into the sunlight.The boy was running very fast now through the field relishing the feel of the wet grass latching at his bare ankles. He stopped on the brow of a small rise looking down on the farms lined tidily along the dirt road. The was the only 'hill' in an otherwise flat landscape and he could literally see for miles.School was out and for the next ten weeks he was free! This barefoot run, the roll down the hill, a slow meandering walk back up the road were all part of a ritual he had enjoyed for as long as he could remember. Now though he was surprised by his reluctance to drop into the dew laden grass and begin his decent. Perhaps he was too old now, he thought, for that part of the ritual. A breeze had gathered strength and raising his hands skyward he ran down the hill towards the road, the bagged out t shirt fanned around him like wings.

Saturday, July 28, 2001 at 14:47
She turned from the listing mailbox and smiled. It took a moment before he fully realised that it was Beth. Beth had been as much a part of the boys summers as his best friend Chad, coming to stay with her aunt every summer since her mother had died when the girl was just six years old. The three of them ran wild until a week before school they were dragged back to civility. Beth, back to the city and the boys forced into the unnatural confines of shoes, new clothes and haircuts.She thumbed expertly through the thick pile of mail. Her hair, that used to be scraped back into a lumpy ponytail, now fell smoothly to her shouldres. How was it possible he wondered, to make hair that shiny? She was wearing a lilac t shirt and denim shorts, not cut offs, but real shorts that stopped neatly at the top of what seemed to him to be unbarably long legs. When did she get so tall? From the stack of mail she extracted a square, oversized envelope. Bright pink, the flap was secured by a teddy bear sticker. She slid the letter into the waistband of her shorts.She was asking him about his family and Chad too. He stuttered out an answer, distracted by the irregular triangle of skin exposed when her t shirt caught on the edge of the envelope. Or more precisely the flecks of golden hair that nestled in the small of her back and reflected the sunlight in the most distracting way. Suddenly he felt himself blush, his cheeks were on fire and although she didn't say a word a new light danced in her eyes.The boy curled his toes uncomfortably, trying to disguise the 'mud' that had gathered between them, the inevitable result of a soaking in the grass and the walk up the dirt road. Why did it matter, he thought, its only Beth. But it did matter and he was mortified.It was growing dark again, he was being pulled back again but now he didn't want to leave. He felt compelled to stay with this boy. With tremendous effort he tried to focus on the pair standing beside the mailbox but despite his best efforts they were suddenly enveloped in an impenetrible darkness. "No" he shouted with such vigour it seemed to shake his very soul.

Sunday, August 5, 2001 at 16:07
Back in the baking hot sun. Three of them were lying lost in the coarse yellowing grass, the air alive with the buzz and hum of insect life. The contrainsts of the impending school year were already pressing on them with just two weeks left of the long vacation. Without warning Chad stood up, snatching at the t shirt that had been a make shift pillow. He shook it out but didn't put it on. The others looked at him questioningly. "I gotta go" he said with a shrug, raking sun bleached hair back off his face "Dentist". They grimaced in comiseration but were too full of words to talk. Another day gone. "See you tomorrow?" Chad called over his shoulder. "Tomorrow" they answered in unision".The air was heavy with stormy weather that had been threatening for days, yet the farmers reckoned it would be weekend before it finally broke. Beth started to hum. The boy was afraid to look at her, suddenly so aware that this was the first time they'd been properly alone all summer. Inspite of the heat she smelt cool and clean, like Ivory soap and deodorant. She crossed her right leg over her left knee, bouncing her foot in time to the tune.That same golden down that had demanded his attention on the first day of the holiday flecked her calves. He was seriously concerned that this preocuptaion was becoming what Chad called a 'fetish'. He wasn't sure sure exactly what that was, but it didn't sound good.He shut his eyes tight against her. She was brushing something off his cheek, her hair dusted his upper arm making him wish he and Chad had kept their shirts on. She was mumblin someting about hay seeds in his hair and when he shook off her hand in desperation she flopped beside him with a sigh. Suddenly he could bear it no longer. He'd never kissed a girl before and the softness of her lips surprised him. More so when they brushed back over his own in response.This time the sharp "NO!" was not his own. Yanked forcibly and reluctantly from the hay field he was gasping for air. Even though his eyes were wide open the drawing room came into focus with difficulty. "That is not for you" The old womans fingers held firm agaisnt his shoulders. "That is not for you" she repeated, this time more gently. Still he fought the reality of the old plantation house and struggled to hold onto the vision as it, inevitably, drifted away from him.

Thursday, August 9, 2001 at 21:56
The old woman placed her dry papery hand under his elbow indicating he should rise and guided him towards the staircase. Still in a state of disorientation he climbed the stairs supported by unseen hands. He was completely unafraid knowing the next part of the ritual was just as satisfying as the dream.In the centre of the enormous bathroom waited a deep roll top tub. Steam curled upwards exuding the heady aroma of exotic oils. He sank into the water until it lapped against his chin. Skilful hands worked with the water to release all tensions. Stepping out of the tub and into a heavy velour robe, encircled by arms he felt as though he floated towards the chaise at the far end of the bathroom. Like all the rooms in the house it had a fireplace and tonight it too had been lit against some imaginary chill. He lay back on the chaise and gave himself over to those that stroked and caressed him until he lost all sense of time and place.When he at last made his way into the bedroom it was with the certain knowledge that tonight, for the first time in weeks, he would sleep untroubled by fear, either real or imagined. The covers were turned back ready on the high four poster bed.Slipping between the cool linen sheets it took only seconds before he fell asleep to the sound of rain splattering against the dense foliage below the window.

Thursday, August 30, 2001 at 10:17
He woke slowly but not reluctantly, completely free of tension delighting in the new found strength that coursed through his veins. A tray had recently been placed beside his bed, the bearer slipping from the room unseen.Here, in this house, black coffee seemed a mean, ungrateful thing so he tipped a spoonful of crumbly brown crystals into the cup, sending the trail of cream into disaray. It brought a childlike smile to his face, the sweet fatness of the coffee settling on his lips. The rain had stopped sometime earlier and now a pale morning sun stole around the curtains, sharpening the edges of the ornate bedroom furnishings.He settled contentedly into the pillows. Dear God why can't it be like this every morning he mused, immeadiately shutting down the thought, On no account must he let a shadow fall. Not yet.Although the bathroom was no where near as oppulent as the one he had visited the previous night it too was generously equiped. Showered, he found his freshly laundered clothes in the wardrobe and pulling several bills of large denomination from his wallet he tucked them beside the sliver coffee pot.Various household noises emanated from downstairs but he saw no one as he left the house. The morning was fresh and clear and the rain of the previous night was rapidly evaporating from the roof of his car. Slipping into the drivers seat he noticed a small box tied with a plain flat ribbon. The card attached read: 'a small something to extend the pleasure'. Resisting temptation he tucked the box inside the glove compartment and resolved to keep it there until he was next in need of a little pick me up.

Tuesday, November 20, 2001 at 20:25
He was strong, renewed. Each morning he rose to the sharp thrill of expectation, a sensation that had long been lost to him. And now he rejoiced in it. It had been this way for weeks now, ever since his visit to the old plantation house.The long days at the office sped by and his work had been marked by a depth and new perception that sent an expectant buzz through his organization. They in turn fed off this energy like so many drones. Yet he still gazed out the window, ever searching the pedestrian population. And although he wasn't exactly disappointed the spot beneath the lamp post stood vacant he fervently hoped the blue jacket hadn't been a figment of his imagination. Letting the phone sink slowly into its cradle he pushed himself back into the chair until it reared up uncertainly on its hind legs. Watching the activity of the outer offices through the one way glass mirror an idea formed, soft and still without edges. Dropping further into himself he pushed the activity away and drew the thought forward, giving it life, giving it voice. He was barely concious of picking up the pen. The words trickled through, forming around the pattern of sound he had become so familiar with, had in times past taken shelter in. The half remembered dreams were finally realized on the stark white sheets.His back, his neck they ached unbearably as he slowly unfurled, gingerly peeling his cheek from the cushion. At some point he had risen from the desk and fallen into sleep on the soft leather couch. Shivering in the darkness he was filled with a sense of wonder and anticipation.Gathering the sheaf of papers from his desk he left the office.

Thursday, December 20, 2001 at 09:43
He had yet to replicate the blend of oils used at the plantation house but these were close enough to evoke a vivid memory of that night and a lazy smile played across his lips. Lowering himself stiffly into the steaming water he purposely kept his eyes averted from the neat bundle of papers lying on the Louis X1V chair. He had resisted the urge to read those notes,instead devising the bathing ritual. Not only to return life to stiff, chilled limbs but to relax him sufficiently to remove all traces of expectation should the work turn out to be jibberish with nothing salvageable. Then he'd take it to his room and with the help of Mr Daniels digest its contents.It took him by surprise. He was completely unprepared for the story that unfolded before him in its entirety. He was pleased, no ecstatic, that this was his. So unlike anything he'd ever written before and yet stamped unmistakably by his style.But what to do with it, he thought as the first wave of sleep began to dull his thoughts. He struggled to conceive of a way to carve and mold it into separate yet complementary units. But the thoughts drifted away from him. He couldn't fight the extreme ehaustion that overwhelmed him and slipped willingly into a warm and welcoming sleep.

Friday, January 18, 2002 at 10:41
Quickly he sluiced his face with water so cold it stung his cheeks. Cursing that he hadn't thought to check first for paper towels he rejected both toilet paper and the hot air dryer and instead wiped his face roughly across his sleeve.Under the harsh flourescent lighting his face was devoid of colour, save a bluish tinge beneath his eyes.The bathroom door swung open and a couple of truckers blew in, brushing snow off their jackets, breaking his reverie. Outside a thin snow fell, swept into little heaps where the wind caught at it. He needed to get home. He ached to get home. Guilt had caused him to stop here and there on this return journey doubling the time it ordinarily took. His way of justifying his breaking up the party. But already the edges had begun to curl and blacken around his new found evergy and optimism. All that had begun to feel so comfortable and familiar started to disipate as soon as he stepped into his parents house.Christmas. Why did they all try so hard? Even he had participated in the fraud, eating and drinking himself into oblivion. Unwilling to say 'no' should he hurt anyones feelings. He'd played board games endlessly with younger cousins and signed autographs for their friends. He vistited all his old school friends - the ones he'd never had. He watched them watch him as the life leaked from his soul.And so he got up this morning full of excuses - reasons - why he needed to be on his way and saw his relief mirrored in their faces.The snow was deceptive. In the time it took to collect a coffee to go it had blanketed the forecourt of the gas station and obliterated the road markings. Rummaging in the glove compartment for something to brush the snow off the windsheild he found the forgotten package, his parting gift from the plantation house. Laying it carefully on the seat beside him he decided to open it that very night.

Sunday, January 27, 2002 at 23:00
Gathering up the mail scattered across the hall table he tucked it under his arm and scuttled off with his prize into the snug beside the kitchen. Settling into his fireside chair he flicked on the remote, obediantly the gas flames flared to life. The ribbon was gone and as he teased the lid from the box he gave momentary thought to the pile of family Christmas gifts waiting on the back seat of his car. Pushing guilty thoughts aside he threw off the lid.......Candies! Four rather luxurious truffles nestled in delicate tissue paper nests. They looked exotic, european and probably extremely expensive. But they were just candies none the less! He hardly knew what he was expecting but was surprised at the level of his disapointment.He selected one at random, it smelled rich and not too sweet, its thick outer shell yielding with a 'pop' to the pressure of his thumb. A drop of syrup welled up through the crack and he caught at it with his tongue. The aromatic taste caught at his throat, honey scented and herby and something else he couldnt put a name to. Easing the shell apart he tumbled the heady mixture of fruit, nuts and obscure herbal liquer into his mouth.The second had a rough, dusty exterior. He ran his tongue over it trying to work out the flavours. As its shell cracked beneath his thumb he saw this one appeared to contain a whole fruit, probably an apricot. He picked off the chocolate the way he used to eat Mars bars when he was a kid, until the glossy orange fruit was liberated. Intrigued he gently squeezed at its plump flesh realizing it too had an inner secret. Peeling off the apricot with his teeth he exposed a black cherry and after that a hazlenut. His earlier petulance was gone and he sucked the sticky juices off his fingers with childlike delight.The third didn't have an outer coating at all, rather it was rolled in nuts and coconut and possessed a somewhat disturbing greenish tinge. He sniffed it cautiously but the aroma was delicious, far more so than either of the others. Biting into it he waited for the surprises but there were none. This seemed to be just what it appeared, and ordinary chocolate truffle. Well perhaps not quite ordinary. Once again he couldn't place the liquer that laced it and in the centre nestled a coffee bean: a hard and bitter core.He'd had enough. Putting the lid back on the box he decided to leave the last for later.

Sunday, February 17, 2002 at 21:56
The room had become unbearably hot. His head was pounding, roughly he pushed the box containing the remaining chocolate off the table. God, he felt awful, could they have gone bad he wondered. He stumbled towards the kitchen to get a glass of water. The kitchen light was on nad by the back door stood the girl - Beth. She was older now. Sixteen, seventeen perhaps. Brushing an errant leaf from her shoulder she shrugged out of the navy wool jacket hanging it carefully across the back of a chrome kitchen chair."So there you are" she said curtly although a half smile revealed the small even teeth he remembered from before. The boy had grown tall and his hair was longer, almost brushing his shoulders. He had none of the self assurance of the girl and was becoming visibly flustered by her presence."Hey..." he said dropping his eyes, a slow flush spreading across his cheeks."Is your mum here?" Beth asked skipping around the table towards him"I told her I would stop by""Er, no...shes shopping.." The overwhelming female essence of the girl filled the room and he was floundering. She caught his hand. "Come and tell me all your news. Its ages since I was last here" He followed her mutely towards the table and flopped on to the kitchen chair. He tried to look nonchalant as Beth lifted herself onto the table, resting her toes on his knees, obviously revelling in his discomforture. Inspite of the cold she was wearing an impossibly short skirt and her bare legs still bore the trace of a summer tan. The boy thought of the soft golden down that had so tantalized him summers before and much to his disgust felt the blush in his cheeks grow even hotter. He didn't know where to look. Up into those mocking blue eyes or down to where the skirt stretched tight exposing the smallest triangle of white panty. He sat up straight, altering his line of vision.She laughed letting her head fall back. "What is the matter whith you? You were always going to be my 'boyfriend' - dont you think I'm pretty?" She pouted, leaning forward she rested her elbows on her knees until their heads nearly touched."Yes, I...of course I do, Beth. But.." She kissed him so lightly if might not have happened. Dropping down on to his knee she kissed him again, pulling his bottom lip into her mouth. He stifled a cry as she bit it softly enough, but still it drew blood. Shocked perhaps, definately inflamed he caught at Beths thick long hair pulling her closer. Feeling the fullness of her breasts against his chest."Hi, I'm home!" It was his mother. He pulled back shocked, feeling guilty. Beth only laughed. Moving slowly off his knee she kissed him again, licking at the tiny wound she had inflicted. Taking his hand she pushed it up under the close fitting T shirt, holding to her breast guiding his fingers over the rough hardening of her nipple. Hust as suddenly she withdrew it and throwing her hair back over her shoulders pushed through the door."We're coming" She called "Wait for us to help you"They were gone and he was sitting in the darkness as the kitchen table. The metalic taste of blood filled his mouth and he winced as his tongue found the scratch on the inside of his lower lip. He groaned. Still more agonizing he was left to nurse the mother of all hard ons. Some treat he thought as he limped painfully off to bed.

Sunday, April 14, 2002 at 03:57
tstetest

Sunday, April 14, 2002 at 03:58
tstetest

Monday, April 22, 2002 at 13:53
He could find no comfort. His body ached and tugged, his mind churned. All he wanted was to slip into an anonymous sleep but even there he was confronted by discomforting images:Christmas presents still piled in the back of his car; the soft, still pretty, lines of his mothers face marred by sadness as she struggled to know her son; the girl, Beth, brushing a coppery leaf from her blue jacketed shoulder. The last was somehow the most disturbing of all and he pushed it forcefully from his thoughts.He probed his still tender lip finding slightly swollen. She was good, the old woman, he had to admit that. Her potions and poisons certainly worked well enough, perhaps too well in this instance. Tonight he had been drawn into the vision, almost as a participant. Even now he could feel the soft, resilient flesh of her breast and the moist, violet scented mouth pulling at his lip. He shook his head, no, it hadn't happened to him - he had merely been the observer of some drug induced vision.Groaning, he rolled over, reaching for the phone. It rang only once before it was picked up. "Ha! so you suffer for your glutony and now you wish to blame me! Yes, and still you visit places to which I warn you not to go. Tonight you were fortunate that my attention was not taken elsewhere. One sweetie would have brought you such pleasure... Bah! men are greedy pigs... Someone will be with you shortly to eleviate your, er, most immediate suffering" The muffled laughter in the background was silenced by the receiver clicking into its cradle.He too put down the phone and realized he hadn't needed to say a single word to the old woman. For the first time he questioned whether hers was a dangerous association that he might be better off without.

Friday, April 26, 2002 at 22:06
As he started walking down the sidewalk he closed his eyes and felt the slight breeze wondering what life wouldbe like if he never started the life he thought he could haveThen around the corner he heard voices "damnit!' He thought.

Monday, April 29, 2002 at 19:05
He checked his pace allowing the distance to grow between him and those that would intrude upon his thoughts. The voices receeded. Focusing on the rhythmic clicking of his boots against the pavement he let the troubles of the afternoon shift and tumble into place.He was afraid, shit scared infact. Although he'd made a concientious effort to avoid Madam and the plantation house the experiences had inexplicably altered the course of his life. The dreams, visions or whatever they might have been seemed to have left and indelible mark. His whole perspective had shifted even though, as yet, he wasn't able to explain how. The melancholy that had coloured his entire life had evaporated and now he yearned for the security of it. This new hopefulness seemed raw and fraught with uncertainty. He longed to plunge forward, but what if he was wrong...

Tuesday, June 11, 2002 at 14:23
He pushed away the bloated manilla folder, heavy with notes scralled in a now familiar hand.These unconcious ramblings had their beginings some months ago when he attempted to free himself from a particularly viscious bout of writers block. Now he couldnt help but be thrilled at the continuity displayed by his subconcious. He still wasn't sure what to do with the unfolding story but he had toyed with the idea that perhaps he should mold it into something along the lines of a Rocky Horror - or even grander - something in the style of Andrew Lloyd-Webber! He smiled. Perhaps there was even a knighthood in it! Did they do that, he wondered, make you a 'Sir' if you weren't English?He ran his fingers over the blue folder to his right. Slim, emaciated in comparison to its over blown twin. This contained the remaining notes, the ones that didn't fit. The ones he instinctively drew back from, simply allowing his eyes to skim, thier import resting uneasily in his conciousness. He place both files carefully with a certain reverence into the desk drawer and locked it.He knew even before he approached the window they would be there. It had been months since he had last caught a glimpse of 'the blue jacket'. Today the heavy garment seemed incongruous in the growing heat of early summer, however to this the wearer seemed oblivious. With face upturned towards his window, their eyes locked in recognition.

Monday, July 15, 2002 at 18:44

Sunday, July 21, 2002 at 16:46
Then Method man walked down the street.They smoked a big assfuckin reefer and he was like "Yo TR dawg, why you allways trippin? I mean you gots some funky tunes, but you is allways jitterin or bein dramatic.Yet it aint lack of pussy" The smaller angry looking causasion turned around and said"Method, Im not to sure anymore. Its like nothing realy matters! I cant do nothing about it. But dont worry, its realy nothing. Besides Ive got nothing to lose.In not doing nothing right now Method, how bout you? Lets go over to MacNothings and get a Big Macnothing" Method man looked at his friend and said "Dammit this is some good fuckin weed!".

Sunday, July 21, 2002 at 17:06
TR was talking on the phone with the usual conversation. "Hey have you seen seignfeild, yeah its theshow about nothing! What am I doing? Oh nothing realy.Hey have you seen that shakespere play at the theatre, Much ado about nothing? Well I think theirs nothing realy like it.Ok Bye mom, I love you to!"Than TR sat and played Quake for awhile, it started to get boring because their was realy no one online who could beat him. Than he called up a couple girls and was like "Yeah hey, this is TR im doin nothing right know, you should come over." They came over and they humped like wild monkeys!!!TR wasgrinnin like the chesire cat as he lit a smoke."Wow TR, you realy lasted a long time baby" the sexy latino girl said.The other one a gothic supermodel he had been with before said "Oh TR you make me so wet baby, i love it when you get all naughty and call me a little bitch, and I think its realy sexy how you use the word nothing in allmost every sentence."TR merely smiled and said nothing.

Sunday, July 21, 2002 at 17:08
nothing realy happened today

Sunday, July 21, 2002 at 17:24
TR was walking down the street and he seen someone twice his size, so he kicked the shit out of him.Cause TR is crazy like dat.Than all of a sudden he realized he forgot his blue Jacket at home, so he went back and got it.Than when he went back home and it was gone! Their was a note that said "Hahaha We are your arch enemies TR, here is a hint:The place where daggers fall! Muahaha"TR realized their were only two men diabolical enough to do such a scheme.Filter!For they were the ones who where responsible for a family moving next door.NOOOOO NOT A FAMILY ANYTHING BUT THAT!!!!TR knew Filter were out to get him because their first albumn was cool and the other one where lame and all of his albumns where the shiznit.TR knew their was only one person who could he could ask to help him.The only other person in the last 20 yearswith 4 albumns in a row that totaly kicked ass "Slim".He called slim and said "Nuh....Nothing!!Noth... Nuh... Nuthing.Fil...Filter!!Nuh.. Nuh.. Nothing!!!!!!!!!!"On the other line his friend Slim said "TR your real upset man or you gotta lay off the drugs, whats goin on?"After a couple hours Slim heard enough fragmented peices of the conversation to put the whole situation together.Because when Slim needed to be, he could be realy cryptic and angry to. Later on, Trent and Slim caught up with Filter.They were trying to sell his jacket off for methamphetamines.So they jumped the dirty bastards, and got the jacket back.Slim also decided to help his pal get rid of the family.... with some assistance by D-12 (they moved in as uninvited guests pretending to be long lost african american family members)

Sunday, July 21, 2002 at 22:29
I wrote today.Ive written like ive never written before.Magical things.Things that will lift you off theground and put you back in your seat.Things the likes of you derelicts have never seen.Than i got a pizza.Now I got a new dog.I wanted to get one that wouldnt bite asmuch so i got the pitbull/greatdane/rottweiler.Sometimes while im sitting here thinking, the world comes alive.I have my blue jacket on.I should write a song about it, yeah.I fucking hate this jacket,This Jacket makes me so......"STEEEEEMPEEEEEE YOU EEEDIOT!"lil`Chris looked over his shoulder "quit fucking calling me that TR or ill... ill...""Do what? Nothing, thats what i thought.Nothing!Absolutely nothing!"Then lil`Chris jumped up and said "CRY!" and kicked TR right in the ol` fuckin good family jewels, holy shit!TR went "Owwwwww!" TR was squirmin and grabbin his crotch.It was a good time in the old town but not for our protagonist.who is some times the antagonist to himself. While and the same time being the Protagonist.While at the same time being realy fucking bad ass on the ol`guitar.TR jumped up after about a half an hour and said in a realy high pitched "Hey man im gon....holy fuck i sound like micheal jackson or micky mouse or something."TR than pulled out a nine and lil`Chris wasnt seen around awhole lot.TR couldnt do industrial so he did afew songs with Barbara Streisand and RuPaul.He also masturbates alot more for some strange reason.Currently he is working on the voice of several high pitched rodents on many differrentfamily cartoon specials.When asked TR only squeeked "I miss nothing.. no this isnt funny why are you people laughing at meee!Ive done nothing to you!Im leaving, Nothing but assholes in this town" TR wept.He wept for things to come and things that will be.But mostly he wept because of constant imasculation!

Sunday, July 21, 2002 at 22:36
He dreamed a band upwith the help of MinistryHe played some songs foreveryone and you and meHis perfect visionOf quality industrialand he went to play fromLos Angelos to Montreal IIII AAAM GREEEAATAND I DDONT CAAAREIF THAAAT GROOUPIE HAAAASNO PUBIC HAIRHe flexed small muscles to keep them gothic babes in linehe made some moneyand called the people he sued swineHe got his justiceSociety was not to blamebut when you ask himhe will say its all the sameIII AAAAM GREAT AAAAND I DOOONT CAAAAREIIIF THAT GRRROOOOUPIE HAAAASNO PUUUBIC HAAAIR

Sunday, July 21, 2002 at 22:41
I.. Touched myself todayto see if i still canspanked it right awayand i got it up aagainI could do it allmy empire of fartsMmm oooh oooh eeee auuuhhh uhhh ooh umf mmmaaa ayy oooh ooh hehehe oooh oh yeah umf umf umf umf EeEEaaaaw!Oh shit, that was good.I havent had nothing like that in awhile! Good ol TR on his magic male organ (my fave instrument) signing off!

Wednesday, September 4, 2002 at 07:55
well TR and his friend fl--d and his friends from the band f_lter Bryan and Ritchie where with em.Trent was driving in the front seat and Ritchie was sitting beside him. Ritchie was goin on about how he was all this and that and acting like he was some kind of big shot.TR said "Ritchie if you dont shut up man im gonna have to give ya the sweet chin music". Ritchie responded in his usual wimpering annoying manner "whats the sweet chin music?" he asked nervously. Trent responded "keep goin on like a little cock boy and your gonna find out!" Ritchie was real quiet for abit and then he started talking again annoying everyone with pointless analogies and obviously bullshit stories.So TR whipped his cock out and slapped Ritchie in the chin with it.Ritchies head went thunkagainst the glass and their was a red mark on the side of his chin for the next couple days.Everyone called him "the chinchilla" or "old cockboy" after that.And on to a more important fact little Ritchie learned how to keep his fuckin mouth shut.(a true story... i swear thats a true story.by all that is true and honest this realy happened.)

Friday, October 4, 2002 at 22:09
Trent said, "Why are these geeks writing about stuff they have no idea of? Haven't I been clear enough in my interviews my opinions of obsessed freaks like these? Get a life people."

Wednesday, October 16, 2002 at 22:21
"Who are you calling a geek?" came a voice from behind his back."Talking to yourself again,aren't you?"Brent jumped,startled and quickled turned around.Blue jacket...familiar..Who is this woman? He was so drunk off of expenisive red wine that he just couldn't tell."Hey!" Brent said, suddenly tense. "What are you doing in my living room?!""What am I doing here?ha!" said the beautiful woman in the blue jacket. "I live here, you dummy!" Then she slowly walked around the table and gave Brent a sweet kiss."More wine, honey? Or you had enough?" she asked."Huh?" said Trent, pushing the young, tan brunette away."You can't live here. Why I have never seen you in my life. You're insaine! Leave now before I call security!""Don't be silly, honey." she said "I'll just wait for you upstairs."With that she left,walking up the winding staircase to the bedroom. All Brent could make out in his drunken haze was the shade of fuzzy blue jacket.Then it hit him. The blue jacket.... Oh, my God! he thought.....I'm married! What the fuck did I go and do that for?

Wednesday, October 16, 2002 at 22:21
"Who are you calling a geek?" came a voice from behind his back."Talking to yourself again,aren't you?"Brent jumped,startled and quickled turned around.Blue jacket...familiar..Who is this woman? He was so drunk off of expenisive red wine that he just couldn't tell."Hey!" Brent said, suddenly tense. "What are you doing in my living room?!""What am I doing here?ha!" said the beautiful woman in the blue jacket. "I live here, you dummy!" Then she slowly walked around the table and gave Brent a sweet kiss."More wine, honey? Or you had enough?" she asked."Huh?" said Trent, pushing the young, tan brunette away."You can't live here. Why I have never seen you in my life. You're insaine! Leave now before I call security!""Don't be silly, honey." she said "I'll just wait for you upstairs."With that she left,walking up the winding staircase to the bedroom. All Brent could make out in his drunken haze was the shade of fuzzy blue jacket.Then it hit him. The blue jacket.... Oh, my God! he thought.....I'm married! What the fuck did I go and do that for?

Thursday, October 17, 2002 at 23:35
In the morning Brent woke up in his grand 4 poster bed next to the brunette woman. Upon waking up he realized he had been totally wasted last night and wasn't married to this woman, who he had started calling Annie, even though it wasn't her real name. Her real name was Esmerelada, which is an incredibly horrible name so that he could not bear to call anyone that.So when Annie woke up he gave her a few hundred dollar bills and told her to go shopping and buy something nice.Well, this was the only way he could get rid of her. The girl had become quite clingly when all he wanted was a one night stand. Brent planned on locking her out of his white mansion before she could return from shopping.He knew it was a bastard thing to do but just didn't know any other route to take.And it was worth a few hundred bucks just to get that awful girl out of his house. Pocket change,really.He only remembered bits and pieces of last night but enough to know who Annie was and that she did not live with him.God forbid!He had met Annie at a bar after he drifted off in the night depressed, just wanting some fresh air. But before he knew it he had downed six shots of Bacardi Limon. And there she was.... this blurry girl with a fuzzy blue jacket. It was the blue jacket that had caught his attention.She came up to him in the bar and said "Hey, aren't you that guy from Nine Inch Nails? I love that song Head like a Hole!" While this might usually annoy him he was drunk enough not to care.So they sat for hours laughing and talking and making out at the bar. Then he said "Do you want to come see my place? I've got some great wine.... By the way, I just love your jacket. My ex girlfriend had the same one."

Tuesday, October 22, 2002 at 23:30
Later that same day....Brent sat in his studio at Fuck,inc. Records in front of the computer.He was so depressed.He thought of Annie, who he had a drunken encounter with and locked out of his house.Was that wrong? He never wanted to see her again because she was a pesky, obsessed fan. Just then the door buzzed. Brent's security gaurd Ringald went to answer it. "No, I'll get that!" said Brent. "But what if it's one of those wacko fans of yours?" said Ringald. "Look,"said Brent. "This is my studio and if I want to answer the door I will answer the door. There is only one boss here and that is me and me." Brent swung open the door only to find Annie standing there soaked from the rain. In here hand she held a plastic shopping bag. "Well,speak of the devel and THERE SHE IS!" said Brent."Brent!" said Annie and gave him a big, warm hug. "I just knew you would be here. Look what I bought!" she said and pulled out of the bag a brand new shiny blue jacket. It was similar to her own, except a man's version of it. "It cost me 300 dollars but it was worth it." Trent quickly snatched the jacket away and tried it on. It fit perfectly. It was so warm and snug. "Wow..." Brent said, "A jacket of my very own....My very own blue jacket." Brent had to slam the door on Annie's face to keep from crying. Afterwards he went back to his studio, wiping a tear from his eye. Brent really loved the jacket, but the rest of the afternoon was tormented by guilt. Why did he slam the door on Annie? So he went to find Rignald for advice. Rignald was sitting in the next room eating Reeses Peanut Butter Cups and playing Quake. Brent was suddently struck by de ja voo. Rignald sure reminded him alot of himself sometimes..."Dude," said Rignald,"You love the jacket but you don't love her." "You're right." said Brent,"Fuck that bitch." "Yeah, she's got a head like a hole and I'd rather die than stop playing Quake like an animal." said Rignald.

Friday, October 25, 2002 at 19:21
The next time Annie knocked on the door of the studio Brent got security to throw her out. "Ringald" said Brent "Get rid of that little peasant girl!" "Yes,boss. I'll get right on it." said Ringald.What Brent didn't know was that Ringald had some plans of his own.Ringald picked Annie up and carried her outside kicking and screaming and threw her in the trunk of his car. "Put me down!"said Annie"Brent! Please help!" But Brent was nowhere in sight. "Shutup,bitch!I've got you now!" said Ringald and slammed the trunk shut.The black BMW pulled in the alley and parked behind Brent'swhite mansion. Ringald unlocked the trunk and Annie hopped out. "You asshole!" she said "Why did you have to put me in the trunk?!" "I wanted it to look beliveable in case someone saw us." "The whole point is they not see us, you idoiot!" Annie said and slapped him. "Now, we won't have these problems anymore,will we?" she asked. "Geez, I'm sorry.Have a cow!" said Ringald. "Well, do you want the money or not?I know Brent doesn't pay you much." "I do, I do!" Ringald said."Let's go!" Ringald had made a copy of Brent's house keys the day before. Annie had said that while she was sleeping with Brent she saw a big diamond worth millions. They were going to steal the diamond and take off together for the Bahamas."The faster we do this , the faster we are laying on the beach sipping martini's."said Annie. "Amen to that." said Ringald.So they both creptquietly into the back door, which Ringald opened with his key. There it was,the diamond,encased in a glass box by theleather sofa in Brent's living room. Ringald couldn't get the box open. "You'll just have to break it." said Annie.So Ringald picked up glass case and busted it against the fireplace. Then the case busted and the diamond went flyingtowards the sofa and fell through a crack in the sofa cushions. "Shit!" said Annie and ran to the couch to digfor the diamond in the cushions."Shit! I can't reach it!"said Annie."Here, let me try."Said Ringald and bent over herwhile she was bent over searching the couch. Just then Brentwalked in to catch them in this compromising position."Well, well,well,"Said Brent "What do we have here?""Brent!" They both jumped, startled. "This isn't what itlooks like!" "It looks to me like you were both getting ready to fuck!" Ringald and Annie looked over at each other.Did he not know they broke in? "Well, you can both get out of my house right now! Get a motel room for all I care! Ringald, if you want that whore you can have her!" With that they both ran out the door while they had the chance.Brent had decided to come home and have some dinner. He certainly did not expect this. Ringald and Annie? Despite himself he felt a pang of jealousy and sat on the sofato cry. Funny, he felt something hard under the cushion.Brent reached under the cushion and pulled out a fake diamond his aunt Mildred have given him. Wow, he forgot he even owned this cheap thing...Funny the things you find when you aren't looking.

Tuesday, October 29, 2002 at 21:29
After the incident, Brent fired Ringnald and hired a new security gaurd namned Ronaldo. To celebrate the absence ofRingald and Annie, Brent decided to order pizza for himself and Ronaldo.When the door buzzed to Fuck,inc. Ronaldo got up to answer it. "No,no,no, sit down. I'll get that."saidBrent. "But isn't that my job?" asked Ronaldo. "No. Your job is to throw people out." Brent was suprised to see whowas at the door with the pizzas. "Rich Pat! What are you doing working for Domino's? I thought you were doing quitewell with your new band Hilter." Rich Pat was Brent's formerNIN guitarist. "Well,Brent. Remember when I was in NIN andhad to get a second job deleviring pizza's just to make the rent?" "Yeah,but, Hilter is a hit band." "Well, I just like to deliver pizza's now for fun. You know, gives me something to do besides make music."

Wednesday, November 6, 2002 at 17:41
"Please come in." Said Brent. And they all sat down for tea, like a big, girly tea party. "Hey," said Ronaldo "Do you have any herbal tea like Chamolie?" "Sure."Said Brent."But you can't have any. Beggars can't be choosers, Ronnie.Drink this or drink nothing. Or if you don't drink this orange flavor tea you can go get another job and buy your own Chamolie tea. Cause I'm not just some sort of tea bank for you and your friends to smooch off of and use. I hear the McDoonall's down the street is hiring." "Brent,I've only known you for one day but you are such an asshole."said Ronaldo."I hear that all the time." said Brent."But here's the thing. I'm just misunderstood.""Oh." "I beg to differ." said Rich Pat."Brent, you are an ass and you need to change your attitude. In fact I brought a book for you to read. Don't take offense to this..but.."and Rich Pat took a book out of his bag called 'The Power of Positive Thinking' by Norman Vincent Peal. "What is this crap?!" said Brent. "I thought you were going to give me a video game or something cool!" "Brent, NVP is cool, man.He preaches how to be happy and enjoy being YOU! Man, this book changed my life,dude!" "This book is crap!"said Brentand threw the book against the wall. It slid off dramaticly and dropped in silence to the floor,spoiling the mood."I don't know why you have to keep throwing these tantrums, man. You haven't changed!" said Rich Pat and gathered his things. "I'm leaving now...again!" Rich Pat left inspired for his new album with a song called "Book Fucker".

Thursday, November 21, 2002 at 19:01
Once he got to the car he realized... "That bastard didn't tip!"......Two days later....Brent walked alone,under the full moon on the dark streets of New Orleans. He needed a drink, and he needed a drink bad. Coca-Cola was his favorite drink but it just wasn't cutting it. Pepsi couldnot satisfy him either. So he went into a gas station and got one of those big 44 ounce Dr.Pepper's. On the walk back home Brent turned the corner and ran smack into Annie."Hey, Brent!" she said "How's it hanging?" "Oh, a little to the left and limp." "That's nice."she said "HEy do you wannago to my place?" said Brent."I've got some coca-cola, my favorite product." "Sure," said Annie."Are you still mad at me?" "No, said Brent"All is forgiven"........Two years later.....Brent walked into Fuck Studios and there was his two favorite security gaurds, Ronnie and Ringald. Who would have known they were twins?! "Hi, Brent! How are you doing?"they both asked simotaniously. "Just wonderful! Here, I got something for you." He said and took a book out of his bag."Wow!"Said Ronnie. "The Power Of Positive Thinking by Norman Vincent Peale! But I thought you hated this book...""Nah.."Said Brent,"This book changed my life.Rich Pete wasright!This book rocks!" Just then his cell phone rang."Oh, hello, Annie. Yes, Starbursts? Okay, Ill bring them right over. Right away! You want the sour kind?But they don't sell those in NO.Okay, I'll drive to the next city and get them. YEs, within an hour. Okay, right away!Yes, m'am! Whatever you say!"