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Their eyes roll back in their sockets [Jan. 9th, 2013|11:26 pm]
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[They Told Me Too Feel |accomplishedaccomplished]

The glass is so thick you really can't hear anything. They move over you like ghosts; so separate, but still there. If you have your back to one wall of the tunnel, you can't even see them, have no hint that they're behind you. It's very convenient.

"So what did Josh think of your latest prank?"
"I dunno, seemed pretty pissed. I thought it was funny."
"Think he'll do something about it?"
"Maybe, probably." Zach took a drink from his water bottle. "He has no sense of humor." He mused letting out a snort.
"You did let out the tiger sharks while he was trying to clean their pool. That was kinda fucked up." Amanda yawned and got out her thermos, unscrewing the cap.
"Whatever, they're just babies, like they could've done anything." Zach snorted again, rolling his shoulders back as they headed across the walkway on the second floor of the aquarium.

Their voices echoed off the glass walls of the tanks, but were strangely muted by the deep blue carpet. It was an hour an a half until the aquarium opened and the two employees had their wet suits on, headed towards the main tank. Now and again they acknowledged a janitor cleaning the glass or vacuuming some branch of the hallway, but mostly they went on their way in peace.

"I just think maybe you should lay off him for a while, he's noticed you barely ever pick on anyone else."
"Oh wah, baby can't take a little hazing." Zach chuckled to himself.
Amanda's expression grew slightly concerned, but Zach didn't notice, he was looking straight forward with a blank, confident smirk. "Maybe I'll feed Roy today." She offered.
"What? No! Roy's my guy!" His voice vibrated off glass and tile as the approached the top of the view window of the main tank.
There was a small side panel in the hallway that stretched directly off to the left of the two story viewing window of the main tank that faced the front of the aquarium from all the way at the back of the building. The panel was hidden in shadows cast by the dim lighting meant to keep visitors focused on the exhibits rather than all the sound baffles and air vents.

Zach and Amanda stopped just in front of the panel and Zach tugged at a small cell phone pocket on the arm of his back pack. He pulled a set of keys from it and picked out the right one, unlocking the almost invisible deadbolt on the left side of the panel. It opened into a small, well-lit space about the size of your average broom closet, save at the back there was a ladder leading just a few short feet up onto a ledge. The ledge opened up to a far more cavernous opening, like a sound stage, the front half of which was the open top of the main tank, about fifteen square feet wide. The rest was black flooring with air ducts and plumbing snaking robotically through and above it.

"You always feed Roy." The whining tinge in Amanda's voice pinged off the water and metal pipes in an oddly false way.
"Yeah, I do." Zach snorted, sitting down at the edge of the tank opening, dropping the back pack off his shoulders.
Amanda followed suit as they both opened their bags, pulling out similar scuba tanks and flippers. "I'm just saying, maybe I could do it just this once."
"And I'm saying no, I've been feeding Roy for six years, he's mine." Zach checked the levels in his oxygen tank. "Now stop whining."

Amanda sat quietly, watching as her coworker adjusted his equipment and slipped down into the clear waters. Josh's voice seeped through her thoughts until it was all she could hear.

"I'll feed him to the sharks."

It was quiet enough that she could hear it bouncing off the walls the same as her own voice. She pulled her knees up to her chin, looking down into the never still waters.
Zach smashed through the surface not two minutes later bringing all the noise with him, causing Amanda to give a surprised shout.
"Jesus! What happened?!" She rushed over to him awkwardly in her flippers as he hauled himself out of the tank, pulling off his mask.
"He's in the fucking tank!" Zach gasped.
"He's...he's in the...oh fuck..." The splattering sound of some half digested granola and coffee didn't play so much with the acoustics of the room, but the heaving and gasping that accompanied it just filled the space.
"Shit, are you OK? Who's in the tank, what happened?" Amanda instinctively began to pat Zach on the back.
He spit a few times, still breathing heavy and losing color. "He's in the fucking tank Josh is in the fucking tank he's..." Another round of heaving and Amanda's hand left him.
"We need to get help." Zach's voice shook audibly, he looked about to pass out.
"Oh god, is he...?" Amanda couldn't stop looking at the puddle of sick, her eyes wouldn't blink.
"We need to get help." He repeated, starting for the ladder.

She was alone, the panel didn't make much noise when it closed but it let the sound of Josh's voice fill up the room again once it shut.

"I'll feed him to the sharks."
"I don't get it." Amanda whispered, staring blankly at the waters, the shock cottoning up every sense.

She stood up after some time, figuring a team would be in shortly to see what had happened.
From her new perspective an unfamiliar white line caught her eye at the other side of the room. Focusing on it, she saw it was a piece of paper with print on it. She was holding it when the other divers came in.
They said the usual things in the usual steady, deep tone of seriousness, they asked questions that had answers, they made the obvious calls, they declared the opening of the aquarium postponed. They took the letter from Amanda and lead her to the offices downstairs and gave her a blanket and some coffee. They handed the letter to the person sitting on the other side of the desk in the office that wasn't the tank room but it had the blanket and coffee. He asked where Zach was, he told them to go find Zach. Then he told Amanda to go home. She cried in her coffee instead.


It was so bright in the conference room. Zach had forgotten what it was like to wear a suit an tie. He'd never known what it was like to be on trial. Listing all of his pranks chronologically made him think maybe they weren't so funny after all. Had Josh really been there three years? Had he really made fun of the guy all that time? Somehow 'hazing' didn't seem like an appropriate term to use in front of the board. Whenever Josh looked up at the board members, the people that employed him, he saw things like men who were oddly neckless. They wouldn't look him in the eye. After several hours of answering simple questions he was distinctly aware of how defenseless he was.

Then they devoured him, career and all.
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Sad Times [Oct. 22nd, 2012|11:30 pm]
[They Told Me Too Feel |depresseddepressed]

Hey LiveJournal!
Didn't think I'd be posting in you like this again, but surprise, surprise I have no one else to turn to right now. In the past 4 years of trying to make a start in LB, I've not so much made friends as started and ended two relationships with people who had friends.
One of them is nice enough to me, but has a well developed life and a happy relationship I'm always afraid to impose on, and as such I don't contact him, rather I wait for him to contact me. This, he only does when his girlfriend is out of town. So that makes me feel really fucking special.
The second one has yet to really get over our relationship, having left the state and come back less than a year later absolutely convinced that if he hadn't left that we'd still be together, and that in his mind means that we still logically had a chance. So I need to give him space.
Other than that I have school to contend with, which is well and nice enough; I only have English classes and that suits me well, but I don't make friends especially easily. I get along well with most of the other students I've talked to and don't have any issue working in groups, but as far as actually making enough of a connection with another person well enough to hang out with them outside of class...not happening.
The thing that bothers me is that I don't get too much homework, and that leaves me with plenty of free time. Time to be alone. In that special, sad kind of way. Admittedly these are first world problems, but that doesn't stop it from hurting. From making me feel like shit for not being able to just make friends. It seems so easy for everyone else, but I seem to be lacking this fucking superpower. I'm trying so goddamn hard to focus on myself, to invest in my future, keeping my grades up and my health strong (I lost 16lbs and started gaining a little back in muscle) but I stop now and again and everything just seems massively fucking pointless.
I think I need help. I'm getting to a point where if I don't do well at this, if I don't get accepted to a school in London I might just not see...why anymore. I'm trying not to be dramatic about this but I really think I need help.
All I want is for one person to just...just ask me if I'm ok. Just a hug, a text message. An invitation to a goddamn Halloween party.
I won't give up. But I can see myself doing it. It's scary.
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Writing Challenge 3 [Oct. 11th, 2011|06:37 pm]
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[They Told Me Too Feel |accomplishedaccomplished]

( You are about to view content that may only be appropriate for adults. )
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The Life Of The Common Ass Badger [Oct. 7th, 2011|11:21 am]
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[They Told Me Too Feel |accomplishedaccomplished]

This work is entirely mine. This morning I figured it would be hilarious to to a documentary on ass badgers, which is actually just a silly insult I use randomly and came up with...I don't know when. Sometime last year. So every once 'n a while I'll call someone an ass badger and today I decided I'd explain what and ass badger is. Or has suddenly become, rather, because I still think of an actual badger head sticking out of someones ass. Anyway, here, have some edjumacating. And please don't steal this, it is my completely original, fictitious work, I am very proud of it and I will be very proud of all the lamp shades I'll make out of your skin if you ignore this message. Oh, imagine this all being narrated by a British nature documentary guy. Y'know? That's the way I've been reading it.. Hence all the commas.


Colo Taxidae Taxus

The Ass Badger, A Documentary

The Colo Taxidae Taxus, more commonly referred to as the 'Ass Badger' is a lesser studied inhabitant of the human colon. It is not, as the name suggests, an actual badger, but rather a small cousin of the mollusk, which seems to be born of the careful balance of bacteria and water found in the human colon. The Colo Taxidae Taxus, or 'Colon Badger' measures an average of .4mm long, with a height of merely .2mm. On the end most commonly referred to as its head it has a long, snout-like protrusion that takes up nearly one fourth of its body length and is used to carefully siphon out the nutrients it needs to survive from the tissue of the colon. On the underside, it has four small polyp-like appendages with four small protrusions on the front of each one which it uses like claws to help it navigate to colon, particularly its upward and downward crawl of the ascending and descending walls.

Colon Badgers can live up to six years, though the average life span is closer to four. They begin their lives in the cecum, the beginning of the colon, which carries more water and salt than the rest of the colon. They manage to stay within the colon by allowing themselves to be buried in the wrinkles created by the contraction of the colon walls produced by the outer wall of muscle whenever feces is passed out of the colon. For the first several days of life, the infant colon badgers, called 'pups', born in litters of two to four are nearly immobile, relying entirely on their parents to bring them food, typically water with small amounts of eco li, which the badgers need to help define their own digestive tract. After about a week, the pups begin attempting to climb the ascending wall. One or both parents will oversee their ventures until they reach the beginning of the transverse colon, at which point they will both stop feeding their offspring and leave the cecum almost completely, as they live out the rest of their lives mostly on the transverse and descending walls. The pups, however, will live out a full year in the cecum, occasionally crawling up the transverse wall for larger salt and eco li clusters, but the water in the cecum remains the larger portion of their diet until about a year of age.

Once the pups leave the cecum completely they are believed to have reached maturity; they have grown to their full extent and have less need for the particular bacterial climate of the cecum. The next several years of their life will be lived out in the transverse colon, alongside their parents who will only recognize them now as competition for food. They have lost the soft, nearly scentless under-tissue of youth and have grown a slightly thicker skin like their parents, accented at regular intervals by long, almost tendril like bacterium that now feed off the reserves of water that slowly secrete from the badgers skin. In return, the bacterium notify the badger of the approach of other badgers through vibrations. The badger then has time to run or defend its territory, depending on the size and gender of the threat. Typically, if a male and female confront one another the female will fight off the male with the aide of slightly longer, sharper claws. They will typically use their front claws to latch on to a fold in the colon wall and kick back at their offender when they get too close. Though these fights rarely result in injury, eventually the male badger will grow tired and leave. Badgers will defend up to half a centimeter of ground; slightly over the length of their body.

At night, colon badgers bed down in small 'puddles' of water, which the bacterium of their body's will absorb and dispel into their skin, only to have it secreted once more. They do this because they cannot withstand water in high volumes, but can pass it through themselves quickly. The pace at which the badger's skin secretes the water is more their speed. Colon badgers will sleep for up the seven hours, but are awake for only eight at a time.

The mating habits of colon badgers are a curious endeavor. They, like their human hosts, have no set mating season. Instead they tend to mate when a female is unable to oust a male from their territory. This usually occurs when a female comes upon a male who has been living in his territory for over several days, a phenomenon that happens rarely as after a matter of several hours a male will typically be chased from his plot by a larger male. As such, large males and ones that are especially good at hiding (usually the exceptionally small males), will commonly reproduce. The act takes several days of 'courtship', after they have fought and the male has exhausted his energy, he will bed down in a puddle just out of reach of the females kick, but still partially withing the confines of the territory. Eventually the female will abandon her defensive stance and bed down as well. After they have rested, the two will share the area, and even help one another find food. After two days or so, the female will allow the male to copulate. The act is brief, taking only seconds and is never repeated. Afterward, though, the two will seemingly form a bond. One particularly fascinating aspect of colon badger copulation is that every act of copulation results in pregnancy. The length of a badger's pregnancy is a mere month, and as such the female reacts to the symptoms withing the first several days. She becomes lethargic and soon will rarely search for food, instead she opts for nearly twelve hours of sleep and relies heavily upon the male to feed her.

Towards the end of the pregnancy, the female will attempt to traverse the ascending colon wall. Instinctively, the male will help her with the use of their joined bacterium. The pregnant female will secrete a slightly larger amount of water than usual, and because the male spends twice as much time hunting for food, he will become dehydrate and secrete less. As such, the bacterium grown on his skin will be more attracted to the skin of his mate and compel him to draw close to her so that they may assimilate. This also works for the bacterium growing on her as well, as they would drown without proper dispersal of excess water. As such, for the last leg of pregnancy, the male and female are attached to one another and the male will, in essence, carry the female down to the cecum, where she, soon after arrival, gives birth and their parental duties keep them there until their offspring can climb the wall as they did.

Once they have seen to it that their litter is capable of fending for themselves, the cycle starts again and can be repeated up as many as twenty times in a badger's lifespan. However, once the female reaches her final three months of life, she is no longer able to reproduce. Her water secretion slowly dries up, and she is drawn, for a time to the drop of the ascending wall, closest to the cecum, as the puddles are larger there. The bacteria, unable to regularly consume water from the females skin, slowly fall off and wait to be picked up by young badgers on their way over the edge of the ascending wall. Once all of the bacteria has fallen from her, the female will make her way to the descending wall and traverse it down to the sigmoid colon, the curving of the colon just before the rectum. There, she lays down and expires.

The males of the species go through a similar experience after their final offspring have been sent off to fend on their own. Slowly he stops secreting as much water and his bacteria abandon him as well. It ends much the same way, though some of the larger males have been known the climb even passed the sigmoid colon and into the rectum, where they fall finally on the sphincter and are passed out of the colon either by gas or feces.

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Writing Challenge 2 [Oct. 4th, 2011|10:19 pm]
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[They Told Me Too Feel |amused'n tired]

Technically this was the 4th writing challenge offered up to me on Facebook by none other than my friend the psychopathic homicidal duck bomb, with whom I wrote just...scores of strange tales with. I wanted to get to the other ones tonight but the lap top screen is starting to hurt the back of my brain and my keyboards got lit keys so when I look at them they start to...breath and become abnormally clear and i can feel the whites of my eyes being...touched by-OH GOD NOOOO IT'S HAPPENING AGAAAIIIIN AHHHHH-please do not this body of work or any original ideas contained within it without first asking and receiving permission and crediting me. I know where you live.

Here He Comes To Save The Daaaay!

"I AM MIGHTY GREEN." The words echoed throughout the parking complex, inhabited only by a few run-down looking vehicles and an 8 foot tall green lollipop standing in the exact center of the edifice. It had no distinguishing features aside from its ridiculous size and the fact that it was able to stand on its own. After several moments of silence, the voice rang out seemingly from all sides of the perfectly spherical green top of the mystery candy. "I AM MIGHTY GREEN." Seeing as the parking lot was devoid of any life, there was no response. Several minutes of silence and it called out again, louder now, so that its white waxen poll seemed to vibrate with the effort. "I AM MIGHTY GREEN." Somewhere in the parking garage, a car alarm went off.


-In Canada there was a moose. It was a regular moose, standing as tall a moose does. Eating the usual moose food like catkins and water lilies. A perfectly normal moose, standing in normal Canadian wilderness water, eating normal water plants, lifting its big antler heavy head out of the wate-OH MY GOD IT HAS THE BIGGEST MUSTACHE. IT IS LIKE SO HUGE, WOW, THIS IS A SERIOUSLY INTIMIDATING MUSTACHE, IT'S ALL PROPER 'N SHIT, LIKE WAXED AND HANDLE-BAR'ED. BUT I digress. This moose has a really sweet 'stache. And he knows it. He really takes care of it too, for example, since he can't get his hooves on real mustache wax, he rubs his face on turtles! He does, the gently holds them to the ground with one front hoof, and just...nuzzle the shit out of turtles until he gets enough turtle wax to be able to work his austere facial hair into whatever he desires. Today, he desires a handle bar moustache. Yesterday it was a sweet fu manchu.


In the middle of some random back woods elementary school. During a family assembly...thing. I don't know what those things are called, but it's after school and your parents have to attend and all the kids go and run off to the play ground together. During one of those things, this huge duck just waddles in to the school. Mind you, the school has all the usual amenities of every other child-keeping facility. Ten foot chain-link fence, security cameras. Razor wire. Guard towers. So the fact that the duck just waddled in means that the gate to the parking lot was open. And no one's going to shoot a duck. In any case, what's it gonna do? Crap on the assembly building? It totally did that. And it did other stuff too. It waved its wings around and stood on one leg and ruffled up its feathers. And for a little while it seemed to be attempting to blow a raspberry. It just stood there with its tongue sticking out, exhaling so that its tongue kinda vibrated and it just sprayed spit everywhere. One of the teachers made an observation on the last act and the duck kicked her so hard she flew into the sky and became a star. Not the good kind either, the painful burning kind. Like space herpes. Still, no one did anything but scream. Which was cool because -oh, no, wait, that wasn't cool. It was, apparently a giant voice-activated waddling, biological bomb. So when everyone got all hysterical instead of evacuating the premises in a calm and orderly manner they basically promised themselves no more than a minute of life (and counting). According to the laws of reader interest though, all the kids evacuated in a calm and orderly manner. They were at the park several blocks away by the time the crap happy bomb was activated. Good for them.


-"I AM MIGHTY GREEN." Echoed out of the sky in a booming and authoritative voice just above the chaos riddled school of...Cali Calmecac (who names schools? I mean, seriously...). The easily 25 foot tall abnormally yellow duck looked up at the source of the noise, its head cocked to the left, one precious blue eye sharply surveying a green lollipop descend from the clouds that were quickly forming. Its gaze followed the candy to its landing just in front of the monstrous mallard. "I AM MIGHTY GREEN." It boomed again. Its stick arched slight, so the convex side pointed towards the duck as if to denote the lollipop looking up at it.
The duck's head snapped back to its forward position and it breathed in deeply, letting go a bellowing "QU-WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK!!!" Right at the conscious confection. But instead of intimidating and/or blowing it over, the force of the quack seemed to feed the self proclaimed 'MIGHTY GREEN' and within seconds he had grown to the height of the duck. With a confused expression on its face, the duck bomb muttered another "qu-wack" to itself. That turned out to be its biggest mistake. The green lollipop immediately grew another ten feet and bent its stick to glare down at the duck. And with a voice to shake the earth it stated very slowly and almost impatiently;


"QU-WAAAAAAAAAACK" The psychopathic duck bomb roared back, lashing out at its enemy in an attempt to peck it violently even as it grew once more to who cares how awesomely big. Awesome in the proper sense, no less. It managed to peck at the lollipop's stick and pull away some paper but the thing didn't even seem to notice, it was too busy steadying itself as it bent back farther and farther until it made an almost perfect arch and it's green sphere of sugary what the fuck was inches from the asphalt.

"I-" It stated, wobbling slightly as it slowly came back up.

"-AM-" It picked up speed as the duck stared with its right eye in confused horror.

"-MIGHTY-" It stood up straight for a fraction of a second and its round shadow descended upon the doomed duck as its green sugary top quickly fell forward.

"-GREEN!!!" With an impact like a 16 ton wrecking ball being dropped without a chain it came down on the duck's head, smashing it between candy and ground for a brief moment before springing back again.

"I AM MIGHTY GREEN! I AM MIGHTY GREEN! I AM MIGHTY GREEN! I AM MIGHTY GREEN!" Over and over it declared in its authoritative boom as it punctuated every simple sentence by flinging its top-heavy self violently upon the more and more mutilated corpse of the giant yellow threat.
The scene was truly gruesome, long after the duck was clearly dead, the beating continued. Feathers, guts and bird poop were everywhere. Especially the poop. You never stop the think about it but, animals? Filled with poop. And that includes people too, but right now, duck guts, duck brains, duck feathers and duck POOP. Covering everything from the beat down crater in the ground that was no longer distinguishable as anything not completely disgusting, to the parking lot and assembly room. You couldn't even see the name of the school on the outside of the main (read: assembly/cafeteria/gym) building any more. Why? Blood. Guts. And poooooooop.


-Look at this moose. Just...look at him! I wish I had such a sweet 'stache...man! So. Awesome. I wonder what style he'll have it in tomorrow? There's just so much moustache! It could be anything...he could do, like...a Dali, or maybe a horseshoe, walrus...he could just let it go natural, just style it without the turtle wax. I mean, those turtles are getting kinda pissed...he could do like, a tooth brush moustache...an english handlebar...oooh! A windmill, he's totally got enough for a windmill. It is just. So. Majestic...

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Writing Challenge [Sep. 28th, 2011|01:41 am]
[Tags|, , , , , , , , ]
[They Told Me Too Feel |accomplishedaccomplished]

Since I haven't used this journal at all in years, yet it still manages to take up space in some server somewhere, I figured I'd use it to post little writing challenges I force out of people that talk to me. Here's the first one. It's terrible.

Disclaimer: Wolverine is copyright Marvel, or Disney, or both now. I do not profit from this work.

And The Banjos Sang That Night

"Stupid-" A sound like a buzz saw beating a sentient clock full of razors on a chalkboard screamed into the muted snow of the void inhabited by two specks of humanity. "-fucking-" another spark brightened stab through heavy copper, squealing its jagged pitch off of naked tree branches in the blinding winter scape. "-pain in the ass-" Claws lashed out at a copper throat with copper ruff all encompassing, all rending and parting like half frozen butter forced back and away from itself in agitated creaking groans, stabbing sharp hate through keen ears. "-WOLVES!" Wolverine stared at the mess he'd made. Calf deep in pristine snow surrounded by hunks of copper and glitter specks of...more copper. Copper paws, copper snouts, copper wolf bodies all stabbed and torn and generally mussed up.

About a yard and a half behind the pissed off mutant, just off to the left, a huddled figure of a man sat on cabin steps dusted in snow. His knees came up to his chin, the right one exposed by a growing hole in his faded grey jeans, large dark eyes stared out at the scene just under a well-worn black beanie. "Dude," His voice barely carried and both men knew it didn't matter. Everyone knows Wolverine can hear a pin drop in the next state over while he's got someone blasting a flamethrower in his face. It's true. He heard it once. He could tell someone with arthritic hands had dropped it. "they're just statues." Oh, and Addison was talking. He does that a lot.

"Like hell." Huffed the berserker stump of a Canuk. "Those bastards have been waking me up every night for a goddamn week." He growled, head slowly turning right to left and back again as he surveyed the damage. "Every time they move it sounds like...screaming chickens."

"What?" The much leaner man's eyes went a bit wide as a grin pulled and curled the sides of his generous mouth.
"What?" The irate X-man huffed, idly scratching the side of his neck as he stomped down on the snow around him, turning to face Addison.
"Did you say 'screaming chickens'?" Addison asked, his voice slightly strained in an attempt not to giggle. Or squawk. As is his nature.
"Yeah, well, that's what they sound like, you got a problem with it?" A deep frown added a few more lines to an already well lined face, nearly making the shorter man's sharp eyes disappear.

"Ha HA!" The lanky Armenian shot off a laugh into the sky like a bird call before hugging his knobby knees and laughing his non-existent ass off. ‘Laughing’ should be interpreted in this case as a long series of gasping guffaws. Wolverine kept his frown firmly in place as he trudged back towards the cabin. "Quit yer noise makin', y'sound like a pug havin' 'n asthma attack." As soon as he reached the step Addison was having a fit on he reached down one hairy paw-hand and grabbed him by the ruff of his snow jacket, dragging him toward the door like a caveman with a new mate.

The laughing fit stopped instantly as the jacket rearranged itself to let some snow on skin action go down. The lanky twenty-something kicked and squirmed and squealed, desperately trying to stop the ice and frozen wood from baring its harsh nerve shrinking horror on his delicate back meats. "Noooo! Fuck it's cold! Stop! Stooop!" In a hopeless attempt to escape he lashed out at the walls that framed the front step, but they shunned his bare finger tips with the same cold bite and let him slip away and scrabble for the door frame as the dragging went steadily on.

Passed the doorway the torture ended with a hoist that dug the first button of Addison's coat right into his adam's apple. With a 'ulk' from the Armenian and a grunt from the grumpy old Canadian, the skinny twerp landed inside, right on his tailbone. "Y'think yer hurtin' now, buck-o." Wolverine rumbled, looming over the crumpled form of his only companion on a week-long unwanted hiatus. One claw extended well and slow enough from Wolverine's right hand. It was all the suddenly much smaller feeling other man needed to see to know that he was going to be the next 'screaming chicken'. So he'd better fucking enjoy it.

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It's me meez! [Jul. 16th, 2006|11:41 pm]
[They Told Me Too Feel |amusedamused]

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(no subject) [Apr. 12th, 2005|09:01 pm]
[They Told Me Too Feel |blankblank]

Entertainment For Boys And Girls

I am a bleeding tourniquet
That wears a hat of Chicanery
You don't ask questions
Just pay the man at the door
And sit and watch
And think you know me

I am a tumor
That wears a bleeding tourniquet
You don't ask questions
Just sit and laugh
And think you've figured me out

I am a girl that wears all black
You ask so many questions
And I will never answer them
So you sit and stare
And think you know who you are.
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