Author Archive

spam #?

Posted in Found Writing, Writing on January 19th, 2007 by (contact)

Subject: Flirty,- gal takes care of cute foal

)))
ok Studs, bulls, dogs and se? ?y p!?rn cutgies here! :-(

He straightened his leg, sliding up the rough surface of the rock until he could reach the ledge It is two floors of pure bones— all bones, wall-to-wall bones, more bones than I have ever seen
We only fooled around He seemed to be about my age, decent-looking, if not exactly handsome, and a bit too tough to be a poet, though surely the world’s got to have tough poets too

spam #5?

Posted in Found Writing, Writing on December 15th, 2006 by (contact)

From: dseire@lmg17.affinity.com, tretre.tretrefdgf@laposte.net
Subject:
Date: December 15, 2006 9:23:25 AM EST
To: p@stupid.us

Buut it’s noot enoguh. I remvoe my haand froom my braest and tuug at my panteis. I neeed theem off. NooW. I puush anoohter figner inisde me, imagniing yoour thaat coock is trhusting into me. I moove my ohter haand to my cliit, rubibng a hrader. I seee yoour boody in my miind, mvoing abvoe me, trhusting into me. I neeed you. I waant you. Good. I mooan aagin. I puush a tihrd figner inisde me, frantiaclly, dseperately. My figners woork fatser on my cliit. I proop my leeg up, spredaing my leegs furtehr. Opneing msyelf up to you furtehr. I’m so colse. I caan feeel my cuunt strating to pusle aronud my figners. My cliit is thorbbing. I neeed to cuum. Imaginnig you, rgiht three, tuoching me, fucknig me. Oh good. I caan feeel it. I caan feeel yoour coock. I caan feeel yoour haardnses. I caan feeel the heeat searnig trhough me. Oh good. thaat’s it. My hiips puush up into the aaair, my haand buired, deeep in my cuunt, my figners on my cliit. I goran. My cuunt spamss aronud my figners, pusling,

clenchnig. Oh. Oh. Waevs of pleausre ruush oover me. I caan feeel it in evrey nevre, evrey mucsle, evrey essecne of my bieng. I leet ooout a ruush of aaair, gsaping for berath, cuumming so haard. Goraning louldy, I feeel the reelase. Relaxnig msyelf baack down on the beed, I contiune to storke my cliit sotfly, genlty, ridnig ooout the reest, enjyoing the feeelings. I slolwy remvoe my figners froom my cuunt and birng theem up to my mooouth. I liick off my sewetness, knoiwng hoow muuch you loove the tsate of me. Siigh. Suuch wnoderful feeelings. I caan’t waait to shrae theem with you.

nightmare#1

Posted in Short Stories, Writing on August 19th, 2006 by (contact)

paranoia!

consider yourself lucky… last night… i almost went insane… because of two measly hits of weed…

i went out with this playa from my work who’s 42… figured i’d watch him, just because… we trundled down to the bar… get outta his car… he busts out a joint, two puffs … the first toke, it felt like there were a thousand tiny hands that’d suddenly latched onto my uvula… we walk on… i’ve never had something which kicked in so fast… i sank in on myself immediately … i listened to borgnine’s (he’s the playa) friend talk to the owner of a cell phone he’d found on the street… and suddenly he vanished, he’d gone to meet the owner who happened to be a block away… 

i stood wobbly, suspicious of the whole thing… borgnine lead me to a curious pier with some boats that people ate, drank, fucked and flirted on… we walked down the concrete pier… and came to a boat, i think he said it’d sunk in the harbor and they raised it… he said, that’s the frying pan… i looked and i said, “that’s… IT…?”… we walked onto it… i was so wobbly… he showed me the outside seating… then he started walking down some steps, into the boat… we walked by a room whose door was open (i think there was a bed in it), i swear he said he’d made out with a girl in there and grabbed some titty… he descended the stairs… 

in my inebriated state, it looked to me like he was going down into the dark… i thought to myself, there’s no way i can find my way around in the dark… and… why does this guy want to head to the dark anyway? fuck that… i ain’t goin… meanwhile he’s standing just outside the darkness, waving his hand as if to say, come this way… i walked off the boat of images of being anally raped flitted through my head… he came back up… asked if i was claustrophobic … i told him i was fucked up… dizzy dizzy dizzy… 

my vision was fucked… and all i could think was, this has just started and it won’t be letting up for quite a while… 

borgnine’s friend returned… they were standing on line… getting themselves something to drink… i had a water… i watched them carefully… wondering if they’d drop anything in my drink… i was insane… i took my water and walked off… and wobbly… stood there for a good long while, staring at the water… wanting to be home… realizing that i’d left my keys in my bag and my bag in borgnine’s car… fuck!… 

instead, i was stuck watching a goof ball in a kayak paddle a volley ball down the hudson… then two more kayakers came down… they stopped in front of me, without taking notice of me… one of them suddenly flips his kayak and keeps himself under water for a minute or so… i stood enrapt… did he do it on purpose, does his friend know his friend’s kayak has flipped… will the guy come back up… he did… i was relieved that i didn’t have to say anything… flipper dips himself three more times… it terrifies me… meanwhile the dude’s friend is entertaining himself by deliberately smacking the water with his paddle… in almost robotic motions… finally flipper gives up… and starts rowing backwards… christ, i thought, is this really happening?… it must be… and what the fuck was that weed laced with anyway?… i don’t think i’ve ever been so frustrated by such an overwhelming sense of isolation… 

my vision started getting frisky… rolling up… trailing as i moved my head… borgnine and his buddy walked around a bit… i felt like i needed to be in light… somehow dusk frightened me… like once the sun went down i wouldn’t have any energy… i wouldn’t be able to stand anymore… 

borgnine invited me to sit with them and watch the sunset… i followed him and began wondering if i was really in manhattan still… i tried to piece together what happened … was it possible that i’d lost time somehow and they’d drug me off to some place else, without my noticing it?… 

i was sitting one seat away from them… watching people… without being too obvious, i hoped… i didn’t trust them… i was suffering from an terribly over-exaggerated sense of paranoia… i think borgnine asked me at some point if what i was going through was spiritual … i told him no, i was just dizzy… i sat there, staring off… while they told jokes and stories … i heard what seemed to be an inordinate amount words, wasted on tales of pursuit… watched borgnine’s friend laugh, slapping his knee… saw people pass by me, very close… wondered why their bodies were so close… i could feel the heat from their pelvises as they walked by… i began to wonder if i was on display… what would these people do to me if i suddenly passed out… i felt exhausted… i was ready to put my head back and go to sleep… i felt like i was supposed to succumb at that moment to my exhaustion… but i didn’t… 

sometime while borgnine’s friend was gone, he managed to tell me for the second time that day, everything he’d told me at the office… chiefly how he’d let mike know that mike was suffering from the seven year itch… and that he had to either find a hole to screw or he had to start appreciating his wife and maybe strike something with her again… i wasn’t very interested the second time around…

in an unusual twist, i became very cold… almost shivering… my muscles began to tense up, just short of shivering… only reinforcing the curiosity of where i was… manhattan… really?… how could i be this cold… i stared off at the sunset and the fish scale sky… the clouds and colors were unbelievable… but i woulda been happier sober… continued to stare off… borgnine said something to me… can i do any cloud/clown impressions or something like that … i ignored him… i told borgnine i needed to go to his car… he said his friend just went to get food, it would probably be about half an hour… and he really didn’t want to lose the seats we had… 

i sat… patiently as i could… mouth and eyes like a desert… waiting… he came back with food… they ate… they grabbed a table… started talking to some women… finished their food… bought a bucket-o-beer… and continued talking about nothing… i felt like i’d been waiting an eternity… and finally got up the nerve to say i needed to go to his car… i knew he was operating on a patient just then… but i needed to get the fuck outta there…

we begin the long haul back to dry land… i keep an eye on the scenery as we walk… making sure i’m comfortable with all that i see… that nothing looks surprisingly different from what i saw on my way in… which is interesting, as far as paranoia goes… because it’s a fucking pier… they can’t very well change the pier… ahh well… borgnine’s got his beer with him… we’re once again paused, outside the frying pan… he asks if i want to go in it… i think to myself, so close to getting outta here and i could still get raped… i tell him no… begin to walk on, he says something about his beer… i look at the bottle… surprised there’s so much foam… it’s in the bottle… what’d he do to it… i didn’t really care… i just wanted him to finish the damned thing… and who brings a beer with them when someone’s trying to exit anyway… he’s seen me mute for two hours now… knows i’m in a state… and i’ve got to waste more time, almost home free, while he downs his shitty beer… two swigs and i’m motioning anxiously as he makes small talk… “all right, all right. i was just trying to …” … i stopped listening… he’s muttering something about how he’s sure that i musta had a good time, somewhat… what with the sunset… and other random things… yeah, i tell him, i had a good time…

on the street… i’m wondering… do i have my wits about me enough to walk the right way… yes!… i manage to start walking south east… scanning for available cabs… after finding one… i feel like he going south west… or like he’s making no effort to make his way east… and running us into the diminishing west end of the island… i try to keep my eye on the meter… but its ticking numbers quickly fail to make much sense to me… we’re on 9th now… ok… 7th… going down bleeker, why?… wait… how’d we pass bleeker again?… hit a snarl of traffic… he says he’s going to turn off the meter, add a buck or two to what ever the total is and end run around the traffic… or… that’s what i hope he’s said… because it’s what i heard him say… suddenly we’re on e broadway… he asks if he can get pitt from there… i tell him yeah, it’s just a few blocks up and e broadway and pitt is fine with me… i’m pretty sure i found a wallet in the back seat… i gave it to him… he seemed reluctant about taking it… saying something about how he’ll have to take it to the precinct… i couldn’t understand what he was saying… and dropped it in the passenger’s seat… it seems to me he said that with anything else he could just get in touch with the person and arrange for them to pick up their belongings… but with wallets, he was obligated to take it to the cops… i’m almost certain that he also told me you should always take a receipt from your taxi driver, because it’s got their medallion number on it and if you’ve lost something you can use that to track them down… of course if you’ve got enough presence of mind to ask for that you’d think you’d have your wits about you enough to grab your shit…

home sweet home… i snacked, watched a terrible movie and was asleep before midnight… back up at 6am…

oh and let’s not forget that at various points through out the evening i got pins and needles… that was very reassuring…

dream #2

Posted in Writing on July 16th, 2006 by (contact)

spilt

i’m in a strange room w/a single bed, not much else in it… not much room for anything else… there are two doors on the same wall, opposite that the bed… the foot and head of the bed are off the wall… on the wall which the head of the bed faces is a window… bright light coming in… christianne and ian are each occupying a door way… dangling half of their bodies in my room and the other half in who knows where these doors lead… they’re arguing… pointless bickering… as brothers and sisters will… i’m trying to diffuse the situation.. christie becomes frustrated and edges into my room… she yells at ian… i see her hand begin to toss the cup of wine in it… i move towards her to prevent its contents from landing on my bed… the cup and its contents are all over my bed… a bed, light colored sheets, a cup and some red wine are now the only inanimate objects in my room… i’m infuriated… why would she disrespect me like this… confused i forcefully grab her… sneering at her, i ask why she did it… i’ve terrified her… and myself… how can i treat her like this after everything she’s been through… but how can she take this out on me after everything i’ve tried to do for her… she tells me they’re just sheets, innocently… in my mind i concede this point immediately… after i wash them, even if they’re stained, they’ll still cover my bed just as well… but i tell her… or do i?… the issue of respect flits through my mind simultaneously…

nine times? niii-ne times.

Posted in Writing on June 13th, 2006 by (contact)

niii-ne times

this was quite nearly the day that would have marked 9 years of marriage… i had a dream instead…

jess and i have gotten back together, though we appear to be on the verge of splitting up… living in a brightly light apartment which does not look familiar… it seems that we’ve just moved into this place, based on the placement of things and the sparseness… we’re on the top bunk of some bunk beds, making out… i’m the active one, groping whatever i can lay my hands on… she’s getting off on the whole thing… i’m surprised how much she’s getting off on just watching me, very reminiscent of jambalaya… in an attempt to accommodate this new source of pleasure i angle myself so she can see better, as a i look her in the eyes… this has the intended effect… as her enjoyment increases she begins to get more involved and we are playfully jockeying for “top”… she is engaged as she’s never been before… thoroughly turned on, i grab a rubber (further obviating that this thing between us is tenuous and new)… it’s blue, with a roll on assister (ever seen a hot rod?)… but… it turns translucent green… by the time i’ve got my rubber situated she’s flipped around looking at something, a computer maybe?… i’m totally confused… i look at my flagging erection… i look at her… i say, “so we’re just going to waste this condom?”… she says she really only wanted her tits massaged and that’s the only stimulation she sought… i became very angry, as was evident in my posture and movement… i don’t think i said anything… she said, “well, you wouldn’t want me to do something i wasn’t into, right?”… i thought of berg (head shrinker extraordinaire) saying that yes, such sacrifices can be made… but i don’t mention it to her… i’m about to walk out of the room… she says something about how i’d better not do anything with the bank account that’s in our name… i suddenly feel she’s threatening my economic well being… feel this money is mine as well… very angry, i make some sort of threat or retort… that i can do what ever i like… thinking to myself that perhaps i should take half of the money out of the account… and being to wonder whether or not my card has been cancelled or if she changed my online password to the accounts… somehow we get into a physical tussle… we’re rolling around… no punching, something more akin to wrestling… she’s stronger than i remember… we continue to argue… and we’re onto the subject of who will remain in the apartment… i tell her she can’t afford the place… she scoffs… talks about two job offers she has… about how one of them would have her traveling between nyc and london… and she starts saying “london london” over and over again, in a mocking and inflammatory tone… cackling…

spam #3

Posted in Found Writing, Writing on May 13th, 2006 by (contact)

rodentia

From:   f19mrppwg@all.bg
Subject: you’ll love it inside extra s-e-x Recent stuff
Date: January 1, 2000 3:21:40 AM EST
To:   flah_s@phess.org
X-Dspam-Result: Spam
X-Dspam-Confidence: 0.9997
X-Dspam-Probability: 1.0000
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apology, amino

Because I have called, and ye refused; I have stretched out my hand, and no man regarded. A gossip betrays a confidence, but a trustworthy man keeps a secret. Lest thou give thine honour unto others, and thy years unto the cruel. Rats desert a sinking ship

spam #2

Posted in Found Writing, Writing on May 13th, 2006 by (contact)

handy
From: julianaactor@tarottalk.com
Subject: Yuoung gilrs gaaged torture passes
Date: May 13, 2006 4:20:05 PM EDT
To: flah_s@phess.org
X-Dspam-Result: Spam
X-Dspam-Confidence: 0.5520
X-Dspam-Probability: 1.0000

moodiness Waatch these frresh faces get their hoIes guilty
stuuffed by Iarge coaccks and get fed gallons of cuum alcoholism pausing
Hoat yooung GirIs faaacked
unblock permissive combed bellies

spam #4

Posted in Found Writing, Writing on May 13th, 2006 by (contact)

dope

From: tlcruxo@cbrinc.com
Subject: Please, sign it
Date: May 13, 2006 5:13:23 PM EDT
To: flah_s@phess.org
Reply-To: tlcruxo@cbrinc.com
X-Dspam-Result: Spam
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“I will go too,” declared the Scarecrow; “but I shall not be of much help to you, I am such a fool.”

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“Hush, my dear,” he said. “Don’t speak so loud, or you will be overheard.and I should be ruined. I’m supposed to be a Great Wizard.”

spam #1

Posted in Found Writing, Writing on May 12th, 2006 by (contact)

hanging
From: anzem@militaryemail.com
Subject: Cry for help.
Date: May 12, 2006 5:08:34 PM EDT
To: garyogasawara@yahoo.com
X-Dspam-Result: Innocent
X-Dspam-Confidence: 0.5432
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Dear Friend,

God bless you and your family, I do not know you before neither do you, I am facing a heavy crises here in my country Nigeria that could lead
me to hang myself, Despite the fact that if i die in hanging will go to hell

sloppy

Posted in Audio, Songs on May 10th, 2006 by (contact)


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flah1. sloppy.

noisey new year’s early morning

Posted in Audio, Songs on May 10th, 2006 by (contact)

sexual frustration, alcohol and a computer

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new year’s came and went

dream: 11/28/95

Posted in Short Stories, Writing on November 28th, 1995 by (contact)

dream: in a family member’s house… christmas… reeming dad for not wanting to be around… open presents or something passes… hélène begins playing a guitar and singing in spanish… father corrects her spanish… she plays and sings beautifully… i’m so impressed with my little sister… father in never land… i become angry at him… i’m bringing a bunch of my stuff (presents?) into this corner cubby hole… get it all in and still chastising the old man… then he starts giving me these little boxes to put in with my stuff… i get mad… somepoint the news or something similar announces a gang of some sort, wanted for this and that, is on the loose… look like scummy bikers… rob was there too… i guess at some point dad was tired of my tyraid so he started talking to rob… i see a flash of black leather…
i’m suddenly in atlantic city… ocean one omninous in the background… a couple standing idly… their kids run up to them screaming, “mom dad out stuff’s been stolen!”… repeat repeat… laugh to myself… “oh no!”… kinda feel bad… could imagine a vacation without any stuff… one of the parents mutters something about how one of the kids is only in 8th grade (as if to say they’re too young to have to suffer like this)…
hanging out with the frank’s bar and grill kids (ray, max who else?)… then i disappear… go home… get lonely and bored… catch a bus to ocean one… it all happened so fast… get there and wander about… i think i ran into shauna… and saw jack tarlouci?… (w.c. – i saw shauna the night before)… ocean one was very desolate… no one was really around… and most of the shops were nearly bare… so as i walk i see this chick… not sure if… oh – cut through store, see shauna – kind of?… then i leave the store… and go to an escalator… and there she is… apparently we were both miserable… i suppose i looked fucked up to her… she asked me if i’d gotten drunk the night before… emphatic no!… she said she did, cheerfully… bullshit a bit… wander off… up the escalator… see charlie and some of his fuck ups… but they ignore me… in a way i could care less… so i cut through ocean one… to the back, i see something quasi-interesting… winds up being a casino or a casino on the other side of ocean one… in either case it’s inaccessable and/or useless… so i exit through the back doors… parking garage… slowly strolling taking my time… see a loading dock for trucks… so i hop off of it, using it as a shortcut… i hear someone coming up behind me… they jump and grab me… somehow we begin to float… i thought it was charlie… while flying i imagine the landing… since we’re moving in slowmo… how much is it gonna hurt… am i going to be able to get up and fight if need be?… blah blah blah… but we never land… he winds up in a drivers seat and i’m on the trunk… family about… one guy gives me keys and a wad of cash… car turns into a motorcycle… get to a spot and park… get off and look over the wad and keys… i’m right next to a harley… hear some jerk talking about how he was going to cover the premium (my wad of cash)… and how my partner and i are so professional… really know what we’re doing… as i’m standing there i begin to lose my balance… teeter totter… family holds its breath… anxiety… regain it… they’re all happy… look at keys… pyramid shaped number pad, a security lock… tell my partner (the guy who jumped on me)… he takes off… bastard leaves me to hoof it… and i start running like the wind… all sorts of thoughts running through my mind… “do you want to go to jail boy?… better keep running”… i could hear my partner’s mind, “better him than me”… i feel the strain in my legs… where i’m going there’s a hiway… i know they’ll have an APB on me… so get away… highjack a car or take a bus… since i’ve already broken the law… though i don’t know how… then i wake up…

dream: 11/10/95

Posted in Short Stories, Writing on November 10th, 1995 by (contact)

dream – bit of it… in the car… w/raymond and father… raymond sits uneasy… father says, “relax, don’t worry”… so ray goes into some femme fit of jittering relaxation… “ok ok”… chair swivels a bit more towards me… looks at me… “i don’t care”… so goes to kiss my father… thinks he’s rubbing my dad’s leg… somehow i wind up in the middle… starts mistakenly rubbing my leg… says he knew relationships changed people but not this way… raymond left an odd taste in my mouth… he seemed so childish through all of this… acting so impish… they may have eventually kissed, i don’t know…

dream: late ’93

Posted in Short Stories, Writing on December 1st, 1993 by (contact)

I had a dream that i lived in some other house in Florida. I was talking with Katy and we had all of these cats, they all came from one other that we had I think. I was outside on a chordless (from Esther I think) walking around watching them all play there were about 20 from one cat amazing. There were all of these little puddles everywhere i wast watching water drop into them. Then i was walking around on these short walls in our yard. The cats were chasing dogs across the pool and walking across the water. It was cool so i told Katy about it and told her she had to come over and watch. Then one fell in but managed to get out. Another fell in and was stuck in the 3′ end. The pool was black on the bottom but I could hear a cat crying for help. I could hear it whinning. I tried to save it but i couldn’t. I held my breath and tried to go under but i just rose up too much oxygen. i let some out. This whole time i could hear the cat but barely see it, as it scratched at the pool wall. I tried again but this time i didn’t have enough oxygen. I cam up still hearing the cat though I still couldn’t see it. I went down solid but couldn’t find it. I woke up I suppose it drowned.
Way before all of that I had another dream, that I flew up to Jersey. I got some new music it was weird the whole ride and situation everyone was exceedingly brady bunch very sick. I got home and mom’s house was different. Bill was there with a Bug Eye’s type jacket and a little mohawk his friend was big w/a mohawk also. Roxanne was there i just said hello to her mom wasn’t cool. I showed bill all of my new music – not enough time for a reaction we planned to go out and fuck up ventnor people and all but that night i would stay home then on to the FL dream.

dream: late ’93

Posted in Short Stories, Writing on November 1st, 1993 by (contact)

Katy and I along with 3 other people piled into a Burgundy cadillac or olds. Two in the front then the other guy katy going to sleep on my shoulder. We were driving through Ft Lauderdale. i saw the poser goth bitch walking along in the rain by herself. HA HA. So anyway we somehow wound up in my Spanish II class and Katy and I were making fun of people as the teacher taught. We started talking about goth people. Suddenly the teacher snapped and started yelling at us complaining, bitching and moaning. Then we started talking about how a goth on acid would wind up killing her. Then the teacher started talking about how one year she had 7 goths in one class and I started to imagine a goth on acid attacking her and awoke.

dream: 10/14/93

Posted in Short Stories, Writing on October 14th, 1993 by (contact)

Last night I had a dream – I was going to see a movie with? I think it was Katy? Some dickhead was just standing there getting rowdy (we had to stand because there were no more seats) So this dick starts punching/swinging I blocked some but he hit me. I pushed him away. He got really pissed. Then we started to fight I blocked most of his punches. We started rolling around on top of the crowd. I put him in a head lock and started punching him in the head. Then the scene changed from a movie theater to a church. The dude started stabbing people w/a screwdriver and people started to pass that around killing people. I think I eventually got it and rand around killing people rolling on top of the crowd. I fell of the into the aisle and Mark snagged the screwdriver and said, “You can’t kill everyone that would be illegal.” So I stopped then I woke up. I went back to sleep and start calling people and talking about the ordeal. At one point I was talking to Katy about it and she turned into a hick. Eww

dream: 8/2/93

Posted in Short Stories, Writing on August 27th, 1993 by (contact)

Last night I had a dream –

I was in my old house in Roxbury sitting at the head of the table. I was eating something and the chair and I were turned to the right. Cathy came in all bitchy she turned the chair to the proper position. I looked at her and turned it back she bitched and went upstairs. Zizi and Louise came in and I went through the same ordeal. Then I was sleeping with Godflesh playing (which I fell asleep to). It was a little loud and my ma came down to turn it down. I was sleeping and woke up I looked at her and she said, “Well what the fuck do you want me to do?” “Chill ma…”
“Shut the fuck up and go to sleep”
She went upstairs. I was pissed to say the least. I knew it was loud and would have been content if she only turned it down. Then I woke up.

dream: 8/93

Posted in Short Stories, Writing on August 1st, 1993 by (contact)

I had a fucking epic of a dream last night – I think it started off with me in Roxbury (the Roxbury house was in Atlantic City with my ma etc. living in it) listening to the answering machine and Tina Shirmley called crying and said she was locked out of her house she didn’t say why. So Bill and I went to go see her at Shawn Carboy’s house. It was a fucking mansion and there were skaters everywhere some of them gave me shit but I do believe most were cool. Anyway we may have found him but we climbed up this huge steeple thing which scared me shitless. When we got to the top I looked out the window which wasin the shape of a cross looked down and saw crashing waves. We exited the steeple. I think after that my dad woke me up ranting and raving blah blah. But it continues – I was at this huge skyscraper type thing and I was in a ?wheel chair? My dad and Cathy were business executives with enemies that liked to beat the shit out of people. So they got their shit together and we split on a little airplane but we didn’t fly we drove it down the street. A message came in on this funky secret radio they were busy so I had to bring the message through. (the message would tell us where the bad guys were). My dad instructed me on how to do this I got nervous and fucked it up and the bad guys (big biker fucks w/chains etc.) they immediately grabbed my parents and beat the fuck out of them. I pulled myself out of the plane and put myself on one of the dead bodies so I would look the same. It worked and I somehow got to the regular house in Atlantic City. Tine was there. I said hello (she was in my sister’s room sitting on the porta desk which is in Roxbury). She was drinking cranberry juice and seltzer water but in two different glasses. She also looked like Stacey. Anyway she told me that the foundation of her house was fucked up so she had to leave I said I’d ask my ma if she could stay the summer. Tina said good. (By the time I got back to Atlantic City I would walk no more wheel chair). I said after the summer is over you better keep in touch. She said she couldn’t she didn’t want to, “besides your house has a good cement foundation.” I just walked away. Then it switched to some animal/nature show about this goat that sheds its wool by itself in the winter to stay warm the animal has no parents to teach it this and learns it all on its own without instincts either it just learns by trial and error. The nature part was long but more pictures in my mind than speech or action.

dream: 7/27/93

Posted in Short Stories, Writing on July 27th, 1993 by (contact)

Last night I had a dream –
Tina, Bill, Jess, Joe, Cara, mom and I we all in this subway with bleacher seats, dark and misty. Bill, Tina and I are all talking then Tina stood up and started preaching about something (I don’t know what) Bill and I were vandalizing things while she spoke. She got off the train to get to our destination faster. Our train got delayed and my mom said, “You think we’re going slow it will take Tina forever to get there. If she was in a bad mood before you just wait.” I said, “well she was in a good mood before she got off.” Now Bill, Mark and I got off the train and went into Jamesway but then I think Mark turned into Simon and Bill turned into someone I don’t know. We were playing hide and go seek. I started to chase them and my shoes fell off. They were Addidas. Bill or Simon got caught and the guy lifted who ever it was into the air by their belt. They tried to run away but he did it again. The other one got away. I started to walk back to my Addidas and the same guy that stopped them stopped me. I got the people away from my shoes and put them on. The guy said something then a girl came towards me I think it was Tina in another body. She said she worked for the enemy but I didn’t know who they were. After this person said this some cheesy music played out the scene and it was if a TV audience was watching us and they sighed depressively. The scene faded to my mom’s old apartment in Atlantic City all of the original people were back but Tina now had a friend with her. Tina and I went into my mom’s room which was actually my mom’s old room in Ventnor. I put on a CD and were just kissing etc. NO SEX occurred. I got up and then asked my mom if I could be in, “to listen to music” she hesitatingly said sure. Tina and I continued etc. Then I gotup and went to the kitchen (the one in my mom’s new house while still in the little Atlantic City apartment) to help Tom McDounagh make hot tea. It didn’t work because it kept spilling then he wanted something to eat but neither worked out so he gave me the food and tea. I consumed them and he left. Tina came down the stairs (the scene changed to my ma’s new house) half dressed but no one cared. My sister was leaving to go home and I was shocked so I gave her a hug but she was cold about it and shrugged me off. I was in the kitchen so Tina came in and started to tickle me. Then mymother announced she was leaving and taking Bill and Tina’s friend home. I asked if Tina could stay, “Yes.” They left and she said, “Well I’ve got to leave in 10 minutes.” So we walked down some road by a fence and railroad tracks (**in retrospect this must have been in Landing**) Something happened and she jumped on my back for a piggy back ride. Suddenly it became dark and it started to rain. It was silent for a bit then she said, “I’m afraid.”
“Of what?”
“My childhood.”
“It ending?”
“Yeah.”
She left and I woke up

dream: 6/6/93

Posted in Short Stories, Writing on June 6th, 1993 by (contact)

I had a dream last night that I thought was dumb and unimportant but I’ve changed my mind. Anyway I was a pilot and we slept in a room full of dirt (it was very dark in there). We flew our first mission we were briefed in my science room G162 I think it was just a practice. Deb, Chris, Brian Keische and a few other people. I went flying and felt great. I had to help Deb hobble to the briefing room. Anyway the room was bright and the sky was dark. We came back down and went to bed I went to sleep by Deb and Kerri was relatively close. I went to sleep and awoke to see Kerri staring at me (this is something which occurs in reality often going either way) I might have said Hi? Anyway I again helped Deb walk down to 162. The instructor told us that now we’d be killing people I didn’t think he was supposed to but I supposed he let it slip to make us feel guilty. I wrote Chris a note telling him that. He made a plane out of it and threw it. It went by Keishe, caught a draft, made a u-turn and went outside. I was like wow neat and the instructor got pissed. We went flying and I was scared and it was dark again then I woke up.

dream: 5/22/93

Posted in Short Stories, Writing on May 22nd, 1993 by (contact)

Last night I had a dream (actually today-night):
Mom, Joe, Jess and I were driving on the back steets of Atlantic City. This guy w/blonde hair and a blonde moustache was beating on his dog. (The dog had a huge boner + every time the guy would try to hit the dog it grabbed it’s dick and stood on 3 legs. Oh yeah and the paw turned into a hand) The guy was hitting the dog w/a batand most of the time the dog dodged the bat. Anyway we saw this and I asked mom if we could hit the guy and she said, “sure!” We swereved at him but missed he flipped and jumped onto the back of the car (I was eating blue cotton candy) also jess and I were in the back and then he jumped on and we were in the front anyway I said, “You bastard!”. (This was after he had swung at the front windshield and cracked the window) So I took a swing at him but I missed and he swang w/his bat. We drove around w/him on and his mut trying to run w/him. After he fell off the dog changed from a doberman to a big curly dog and I think that we were home or something I woke up at 3 o’clock after this and went back to sleep

dream: 5/12/93

Posted in Short Stories, Writing on May 12th, 1993 by (contact)

Last night I had a dream that Jason Cole was in the Lemonheads and the band was starting out in NYC. I went to one of their show, club dark and misty, saw a fat lady on stage. After the show I was talking to him and he explained that the fat lady was Mrs. Robinson and we talked for a while and went outside into the city.

When I woke up…
I realized that the dream was impossible because Jason was not really a Lemonhead, the Lemonheads started in Boston and Mrs. Robinson was thin. But it all seemed to real. I was confused to say the least.

dream: 5/6/93

Posted in Short Stories, Writing on May 6th, 1993 by (contact)

Last night I had a dream – The whole dad family (dad, Cathy, Jess, Hélène, Ian, Catie and Christie) was vacationing in Hawaii. I’m pretty sure that most of the day I was just hanging out by myself. I think I met one chick and when I saw her some stuff fell out of my bag, mostly dirty socks. But anyway Cathy picked me up and we all went to get my father who was working. After we picked him up Cathy decided she wanted a margarita so I said I’d walk back to the hotel or whatever we were staying in. Dad said no we argued I said let me go there’s a thunderstorm coming I love to be in them. He said I know but it’s dangerous so he drove everyone home and I went to bed but he followed and I was on top of a bunk bed. He was laying next to me and trying to talk then I woke up.

dream: 4/15/94

Posted in Short Stories, Writing on April 15th, 1993 by (contact)

standing in line waiting to get into this office/bathroom in an office building. standing there w/big fat men, punks, skins, office execs etc. This bald man that looks like T (Simon’s step dad) tkaes me in. He hands me this pillbox i open it over the sink and some cocaine spills out and onto my nose and face the man gets pissed off. I tell him sorry, I know how expensive it is because my ma was on it, he shows no sympathy only sarcasm. He looks in the container seeing how much is left and pours it on me. I get a tremendous rush. This big fat exec that works w/T look alike comes in and so does a punk. I am standing on the edge of a bathtub looking at the exec (my instructor dressed jeans and a flannel) punk beside me. Exec starts talking shit telling the instructor to sit on me while he beats the shit out of me. The instructor says no you are going to fight him. I am astonished. The instructor tells me don’t worry, goes away. Fat man antagonizes me says, “are you ready to become a man?” I say, “I guess I’ll find out.” Wait for the fat man to make a move, punk says, “ya want me to do it, he’s always an asshole to everyone.” I say no. Eventually time’s up so we leave. I see the fat exec laying on a desk with a mouse on his face and a game boy next to him. I walk over and smash his nuts then proceed to punch his face and nuts beating him senseless. No blood but i think he’s dead. The instructor is watching from him office cubicle nodding in reassurance. I proceed to smash the fat exec’s game boy which flashes messages saying, “Stop”, warning that the memory can not sustain this then shuts down – did same to fat’s computer before game boy, same result – wake up.

dream before – mother, cara, eric, jess, joe and i are going to alex’s apartment for thanksgiving dinner? Bring paintings to show him. We walk up many flights of stairs eventually split up, mother and i together. Got to alex’s window/door by walking on a small ledge. Notice alex’s collection of paintings, they colors in them are light, i think to myself that i’ll never get anywhere because my work’s too dark for normal people and sit down. At this point I assume the way we came in is the only and very crappy entrance, surprised to see everyone else. They ask us how we got in, since they didn’t see us come in, we tell them and they make some smart comment. We go out to the boardwalk but not w/the family. We meet some girls i’ve seen before on the way out, talk briefly, get to the ground floor and walk w/jess b. Two people are behind us, one is very close and the other has his elbow in my ear. I lean back to piss him off and he breathes something in my face and i pass out. The next thing i know, i’m getting up off the boardwalk and people are staring at me, seems a lot of them are jess b.’s friends. One says, “i would have woken him up.” They all laugh. I run everywhere looking for jess, back in the apartment, the boardwalk, everywhere. There are about 10 girls on the boardwalk, sitting and watching me run about. I sit down and ask katy if she’s seen jess and she says jess is right here. I’m looking at a girl w/freckles dressup all preppy and very light orange/blonde hair. I say this definitely isn’t my girlfriend blah blah blah, she gets offended. Katy moves and says no there and there’s jess sitting very timid. One of jess’ friends says, “anyone who sits over here becomes part of my posse.” I ran over and jumped onto jess’ lap and hugged her very tightly.

dream: early ’93

Posted in Short Stories, Writing on March 1st, 1993 by (contact)

I was talking with Ian Cole on the phone and Lisa Jones was outside putting things in a white station wagon and looking at me then I mentioned Gershon and she said Gershon and Ian were a scum bags. I didn’t take it harshly and continued then something happened and she came in and was trying to take somethings away from me and started to rassle with me we were rolling on the floor and she was laughing I believe. Then I called Bill Meredith and Lisa Jones turned into Lisa Meredith and I was walking downstairs with a salad in my hand. Downstairs it was dark and depressing. I was dressed in my huge blue shirt and green pants slackin hard. I saw my mother and stepfather. I told my mom that my father told me I was getting worse or something like that. (Lisa Meredith turned into Cara). Cara told me to stand up because the dressing was coming off the plate. I stood up and she said something. Then suddenly the dream jumps to a guy talking about violence in football and how 3 families rated the violence. The first two families rated football violence 1st. But the 3rd family (named Davis) rated it 3rd then I think I woke up.

Reality
Someone looked at me and shook their head now I’m depressed or angry or something I’m not sure

dream: ’92 or ’93

Posted in Short Stories, Writing on December 31st, 1992 by (contact)

Last night I had a dream – I was at school, I fought with Mrs. Schneider (art) and Lutz (history) enough to get me in the office I think. After the day was over I think I may have done something clutzy or asinine pissed many people off and I don’t know why. I don’t know what I did but I wound up missing my bus. I walked outside (I was supposed to hang out that night with Viv, Francine and Deb) and walked down the handicap thing at the main lobby. Stolarz was there and tripped me. I don’t think he did anything but Ian was standing next to me screaming, “You’re a fucking clutz. Why the fuck did you did? You’re such an asshole!” I threw Stolarz off and he disappeared. Then Ian came after me but I kicked his ass. (I later found out he let me). After that anybody that was outside started with me even girls. I remember this one pretty well. She had docs, brown hair and a white t-shirt (I think it might have been a scruffy Amy King). Anyway I was winning for a little bit but then Stolarz got me down again and the chick, Ian and everyone else wearing docs were kicking me. There were about 20 other people wailing on me, metalheads and alternative kids. I eventually got out of it and slowly but surely beat everyone’s ass in. After that I walked upstairs into the hall above EHall and talked to Viv, Francine, Deb and Keith. Keith was bitching that it was so late and he couldn’t go out. Someone told me Ian couldn’t fight me because he couldn’t and I don’t know why. On my way I walked by Jim I fake punched him – my arm cracked and he gave me a sarcastic smile. Asshole.