tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-55809351841070449592024-03-08T08:19:03.923-08:00The Constantinople ExpressUnknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger28125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5580935184107044959.post-783773536232956032012-01-24T08:26:00.000-08:002012-01-24T08:26:04.802-08:00*short story* Elizabeth Everstone part 2<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Attaching C4 to the vault door it was clear that they hadn’t wasted their time on Earth, they had definitely kept up with the times, and by the sounds of the police sirens wailing outside the police had been alerted to what was going down here. Entering the vault another security guard inside hit the floor, looking at Nikita I couldn’t help but feel a little sick she was condoning this murder, where these really the kind of people she wanted to hang around with? I couldn’t tell just what she was thinking and it made me feel a little empty. <o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Once inside they started to rummage through the safety deposit boxes, countless millions in unmarked notes and gems littered the floor within minutes, the vault looked like King Soloman’s tomb in no time. “Hey, Elizabeth we have got to get out of here! These guys are killers!” Tugging at my sleeve and whispering quietly below the sound of cheers Nikita was having a good of a time at this party as I was it seemed, I couldn’t help but feel warm inside at the thought.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“Huh, I thought they were your friends?”<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“Yeah! Before I met you and to a lesser extent Leon,” smiling as she said I melted a little. “When you’re dead you can’t be choosey with your friends. We need a plan, how can we get out of here? They are psychos we can’t say; oh yeah we’re just leaving; mass murder always dampens my partying mood! And with how freely they revealed themselves I can’t imagine they are going to leave anyone alive” Speaking in an angry whisper I couldn’t help but agree, and not just because of the reason you are thinking, it didn’t look like this was going to end well, all we could do is go along with it and bolt when the chance arose. But the army of police officers out there were not making things easy. While our hosts were invincible me, Nikita and everyone else trapped inside the bank were most definitely not.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“Throw down your weapons and come out with your hands up! We have you completely surrounded there is no escape, we suggest you give up now, release the hostages and we will take you peacefully” A gruff policeman’s voice blared out over the banks intercom, looking at Nikita I could tell by her expression she was expecting me to do something, but what option did I have? <o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“Oh man I love this part! You might wanna stand aside girls, things are about to get real nasty here” Cortez’s suddenly shone a brighter, deeper red, his stained white teeth grew sharper and longer, even the contours of his skull appeared more threatening until his expression once cold and dead became a discernible grimace of malice. Taking off their gloves and masks in turn they all transformed until standing before us were a gang of monstrous Zombies, their claws protruding from decaying flesh, their bodies a mesh of brownish skin, organs dripping greenish ooze, a foul stench filled the air that I had not noticed before. The sounds of salivating and heavy breathing surrounding my head and made me feel dizzy and confused. “Yeah man, this is the part I “live” for.” The one who before I pegged as the mastermind most definitely was such, his body muscular and heavy set, his flesh somehow not decayed or as ruined as the others. His claws long and red, encrusted with what I assumed what flesh, human flesh, peering DOWN at me he laughed throatily before walking past out in to the banks main hall. Shrieks soon overpowered the sound of the police siren orchestra, I closed my eyes and waited for the dull thud of claw meeting flesh and the panicked clank of shoes upon the hard floor. <o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“Aye ye think you’re an hard fucker just because you’re a big lad don’t ya?”<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“Please don’t let that be who I think it is!” Shouting to myself I thought I was more frightened than I thought because I could have sworn heard Leon’s gruff, Scottish accent shouting from in the hall. Nikita ran to the door of the vault, calling me over she pointed enthusiastically at the unmistakable sight of Leon running around the feet of an infuriated Zombie scrambling to claw at him. Looking over at Nikita she seemed relieved, I really didn’t want to think she was placing over lives in the hands of a lion fetus, I really didn’t. <o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“Come on ye big bastard! Come and get me if ye can!” I hated to admit but he wasn’t doing all that bad, I have no idea how he was able to survive outside of his tank, or how within minutes he had sent the biggest Zombie there to the floor and any description I can give will never truly live up to the sight of a fetus jumping up and punching a near seven foot Zombie Spaniard in the face so you will have to imagine it for yourselves. The rest of the group seemed to be dumbstruck at this turn of events and within minutes Cortez had grabbed me by the scruff of the neck and walked me out to the main hall, pointing a gun at my head Leon took a few steps back and clenched his, I suppose you would call them fists or something. “This your friend little man? If you don’t back off she will deader than us and their wont be enough of her head to bring back!” <o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">In life sometimes we do stupid things, very, very stupid things, what happened next was worse than those times. Remembering the gun I had strapped to my side I reached up with my arm and delivered as hard of a blow to his decaying rib cage as I possibly and leaped out of the way to hear a gun shot go off and pulled my gun on him delivering a full clip to his body. I didn’t think, I just acted and when he fell to the floor in a heap of guts I fell to my knees only to be grabbed by Nikita, sinking in to her hair I breathed heavily, her cherry blossom scented hair taking me for a few seconds away from this carnage. <o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“You two can cuddle up later, we’ve got a job to do here, in case you lovers hadn’t noticed there are still some more walking kebabs who wanna tangle” I looked up and saw Leon wrestling with two of them at once. Jumping over there shoulders and down their he delivered blows when and where he could, surprisingly with each punch they seemed to stumble, how was he so strong? Getting up I quickly reloaded and dismayed at only carrying enough bullets for one reload, would have to do the best with what I have it seemed. Behind me the sickly thud on the floor meant Leon had taken down another one. in the vault the remaining two left both charged at me and Nikita, sliding out the way I managed to trip one up though not without hearing a crunch from ankle, ignoring the pain I twisted around and sent two bullets in to the things head. The other one was chasing Nikita around the room, she ducked and dodge his blows gracefully. Pointing my gun at them I was too scared of hitting her, I wasn’t the best shot in the world by any stretch, fortunately Leon didn’t have such a crisis of conscience when deciding to throw a Zombie head in their direction, hitting the hulk of muscle he stopped and staggered in shock long enough for me to send him back to his grave. And when he went down I wanted to make sure he stayed down. A swift chair to his face wrecked any chance of even slight brain function still going on. <o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">That brings us up to speed pretty much. We quickly closed the door to the vault while the hostages ran outside screaming, barricading us in it did not seem the best idea to us that we let the cops finds us; a woman with glowing green eyes, a walking, talking fetus and me, a private detective holding a gun and covered in blood and guts….. <o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">The phone rang, picking up it might not have been the best idea to argue with the head of London’s police force but its not like things could get much worse, or weirder. Well the sounds of gun shots and police officers storming the bank was one thing.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“We really, really have got to get out of here! I can’t go to jail I’m too pretty and dead!” <o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“Isn’t there anything you can do Leon? You stormed in here and got us this far, in fact since we are probably going to be dead in the next few minutes, you wanna tell me how you did all that Rambo stuff?”<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“What stuff? I’ve always been able to do that, you just didn’t ask me before, your always running around after her!” Pointing at Nikita I knew that if a dead person could blush she would be, she got what Leon meant and in that moment I was happy I was going to be dead soon . I’d hate to have even a corpse reject me. “And I can only leave me tank for short bursts of time so I think we best find a way out of here before we all die”<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“Might I offer you some assistance?” turning around in fright we were greeted with a tall, thin man dressed in an all black, double breasted suits, his grey hair neatly parted to the side, high cheekbones and thin cheeks show he was in remarkable health for a man his age. His eyes concealed by blue lensed sunglasses his perfectly defined eyebrows perked up above them when he spoke, a man of obvious confidence given the situation and the almost excitable tinge to his voice, as if he savoured every word he spoke, impressed by himself constantly. Standing with a black cane that had a brass eagle top to it I could have sworn I had seen it somewhere before. “Elizabeth Everstone, I have been hearing all about you lately, it is an honour to finally meet you I must confess. Anybody who can have the entire London police force after her and with nothing but a Zombie and a fetus take down eight Zombies is a woman I would like to count among my friends. But excuse me, where are my manners? I am Nicholas Clermont, head of Sister Ray.”<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“Sister Ray? Sounds like some government secret agent group, how did you get in here anyway?”<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“All will be revealed in time and I can assure you if the government does know of us then we are not doing our job properly. We are nothing so pedestrian as you might imagine. We are made of “special” people with unsual skills. You seem to all have two choices you can come with me and I will explain to you exactly what is going on, or you cant take your chances with the police” stepping aside he revealed a glowing blue portal in mid air. Taking a deep breath we really had no choice. Suddenly I felt Nikita’s cold skin against mine, glancing at me she flashed a small, cute smile. With that the three of us walked together in to the unknown.<o:p></o:p></span></div><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">“Elizabeth Everstone, welcome to Sister Ray"</span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5580935184107044959.post-72776345172745656102012-01-24T06:43:00.000-08:002012-01-24T06:43:35.779-08:00*short story* Elizabeth Everstone-We come to you now live from the crime scene<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“We are coming to you now live from the scene of the crime”<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“What, who is this?”<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“You rang us, means you gotta go first. Look I think police and criminal relations are a bit low these days, I’ve had some real personal talks with the boys here and if you let us get out of here we will all promise to be good little bank robbers and never do it again. You’ve got twenty four hours to think things through” For those of you just joining us my name is Elizabeth Everstone, Private Detective, not someone you would think right now is trapped in the vault of The Bank of London surrounded by God knows how many police officers all waiting to get trigger happy. But that was before last week, before I became friends with Nikita, a knockout Zombie babe and Leon a talking lion fetus with a severe penchant for karaoke. Sorry, am I getting ahead of myself here? Lets go back to where all this started, while it seems a lifetime ago for me it was actually only this morning that it all went nasty.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“Is he gone?”<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“I can’t hear anything, but you can never be too sure with these parasites, I’m not sure if they can touch the ground, I think most of them just glide over it because its too pure it burns their flesh” In case you were wondering no I wasn’t embroiled in a case or fighting some Hellish demon, we were on the floor underneath the window of my one bedroom flat hiding from a debt collector. Money was tight before but I got by fine enough, my flat wasn’t in the best area of London nor was it particularly stylish but I was never chased by debt collectors. That was before the previous week, before I had roommates. After rescuing Leon and Nikita from the clutches of some wannabe mad scientist we had decided that it might be a bad idea for them to be running around London so I offered to let them crash at my place and I will tell you this; finding a constant source of formaldehyde isn’t easy, luckily enough I found a website to get it from, scarily none of the people buying it seem to be in the medical profession but whatever,<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>oh and it isn’t cheap. Also, Zombies get through skin care cream like neckbeards get through achievements, but that’s a reasonable expense because seeing her “moisturize” does never fail to make me feel tingly, and you can’t put a price on moments like that. Well that’s what I thought, apparently you can and its steep, very, very steep. I had tried to get cases but with all the extra expenses and the fact that mass murderers appeared to be taking a break had got me in to some severe debt.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">One night while me and Leon were sat around marveling at how little fun a TV is when your electric has been turned off Nikita suddenly burst in the room, ah Nikita my undead Queen, “you will never guess what I found! Look at this.” Jumping on to the settee next to me she shoved a small, green card in to my face. “I found it in a pocket of that dominatrix outfit I had on when you found me,” oh yes, that outfit. One of the few perks I had in my life, but for some reason she insisted on borrowing some of my clothes, to “feel more normal” she claimed. Looking at her now I couldn’t help but cry a little inside at how “normal” she was; a pair of white, skinny fit jeans that hugged the curves of her shapely thighs and clung to her slim calves, a pair of cool, green converse and an old Nine Inch Nails tee with the logo in pink across her chest, of course the shirt was quite long so it looked quite “dressy” that too definitely clung to her, she wasn’t big at all but she was far more curvy than me and she looked like she was poured in to that shirt. Her red draped down her shoulders and fell over her left shoulder, framing her slim, pale face. If it wasn’t for her glowing green eyes you would think she was another pale goth girl, but Zombie or not, broke as Hell or not having her around had noticeably improved my often sour mood. I’d even started speaking to my family more…. Well, at weekends, to say hi. <o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“I want you to meet my family!”<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“Huh?” I had got to stop blurting out romantic sentiments to her! She probably thinks I have some kind of weird, emotional form of Tourette’s. But how could I not hit on her? She is utterly perfect, of course since having her move in with me I still had no idea if she was a lesbian or what, or if being a Zombie meant she had no sexual urges, then again, gay, straight or whatever I couldn’t see anything happening between us. Looking at my own body I had the sudden realization she was pretty far out my league. My golden blonde was fashioned to its usual spiky, side parting that my mother says makes me look like I got off the stage at a Gary Numan show, currently dressed in a mans suit; black trousers, black blazer, white shirt, suspenders and black tie pretty much made me look like a very effeminate James Bond. Still I did have quite small, delicate facial features and high cheek bones so despite my fashion sense I wasn’t all that masculine in appearance. Oddly enough the mans shirt I was wearing accentuated my chest and the suit was tight and gave me the effect of having a more hourglass shape than I really had. <o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“Hello, Elizabeth, are you with us?”<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“If she dies I wish to have the brain”<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“Leon!”<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“What? It made you snap out of it didn’t it lass?”<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“Yes but I’m starting to think its not a joke when you say things like that”<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“Oh aye, just because I’m a fetus in a jar I have to be insane is that what your saying? I never had any o’ this lark when I lived on the Highlands”<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“You never lived on the Highlands, you’re a lion fetus some mad guy stole from the London Zoo!”<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“Heeelllooooo, guys, got some big news here, take a look at this” Interrupting one of mine and Leon’s many arguments Nikita once more shoved the small, green card in our faces. “Now don’t ask what pocket it was, I’d rather forget myself, but I thought maybe tomorrow we could head down to the bank and see if there is any money inside it, now I know my real name, Michelle Summercrow, I bet I can fake my signature, worth a try don’t you think?” <o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“Yeah lets get down there as soon as they open up” Truth be told I was just hoping some people would see us and think we were a couple.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“Great I’ll just put on a little foundation, some cool shades and we can hit the town! Since moving in here I haven’t really gotten out so for me this is quite exciting” <o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“Oh aye and what about me?” Turning to face Leon neither me or Nikita really wanted to state the obvious, he was oddly touchy about not being allowed out, you know, despite being a living fetus in a gigantic glass jar. “I’m supposed to just wait around the house am i? Fine I don’t need ya, ya couple ingrates!” When he gets like this we usually just throw a towel over his jar and leave him in hopes he will think its nighttime and fall to sleep.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">The next day we set off for the bank in a torrent of abuse that to be honest I didn’t understand a word of due to his accent getting thicker when he is pissed and so simply left imagining he was giving endless compliments. Nikita, who had decided not to go back to her original name, was dressed in black, leather boots, fishnet tights and a very frilly, black and dark blue skirt and a basque over a long sleeve, black tee. To disguise her eyes she had borrowed a pair of my purple lens sunglasses. Her hair was platted and hung down her back adding a slight cute touch to her gothic outfit. Myself in hopes of making us look more like a convincing couple had ditched my usual fashion and stepped out in green skinny fit jeans, red converse, a colourful, wool jumper and the same sunglasses Nikita had on. I made sure to walk close to her, in case something happened of course, or that’s what I told her at least. Being honest I couldn’t shake the grim feeling that had hung over me since rescuing her and Leon, I was constantly on my guard for any other weirdness that might happen. I could feel my revolver pressing in to my side that I wore strapped to my body under my jumper. <o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Inside the bank we struggled to even get across the hall to the bank tellers, throngs of people pushed and shoved around like Ants in the hive, more than one man had to be taught a lesson that you don’t grope nice, young ladies when walking past them. Another thing about me that had changed since the last case was I found I was quicker in dealing out left hooks. <o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Finally at the front of the queue some snooty women who looked as uptight as her was tight, pinned to her scalp pretty much with hairpins that she probably bought from the pound shop. She sneered down at us over the rims of her half moon spectacles and spoke with a voice matured for a century in pure gin. “What do you two ladies want today then? Come and please hurry up there is a queue behind you.” I felt my nails dig in to the skin off my palms, normally in these situations I would take hours just to annoy them but Nikita seemed a little nervous, she ignored the question of how long she had trapped in that basement. Sure she may have been strong there but it must have took a toll on her, despite not knowing how she felt towards me she had barely left my side since moving in with me. Another reason I put up with that stumpy, motormouthed fetus; the comfort of the familiar. <o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“I wish to check what is in my account” standing tall she was trying to give off the appearance of confidence, I was trying not to leap through the glass and penetrate her ocularly with the free pens. With a loud sigh she took her card and much to my admitted amazement Nikita managed to forge her own signature, that or she wanted to get rid of us quickly since while I couldn’t say anything about her rude behavior I had spent the entire fifteen minutes very obviously staring at her breasts with a grin on my face. While I was unsure of Nikita’s sexuality I at least knew I had zero chance with a mid-70s bank teller! And that ladies and gentlemen is a comfort to know.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“Oh my God Elizabeth check this out!” Leaning over her shoulder perhaps a little too far for our lovely tellers comfort, by the way she may have been up tight but that’s obviously just a front since her lacy, pink bra tells me otherwise, I jumped back instantly and gave a high pitched squeal. “We’re rich Elizabeth! Can you believe it? We can move out an buy a nice place and Leon can have fresh formelda… Or, we are just rich” Don’t ask me how but in Nikita’s we found millions, she must have been some kind of trust fund baby to have that much. <o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Jumping in to her arms, I might not have been that happy for the money but lets say I was shall we? I caught angry glances from everyone around us but so what? We were rich I could buy all new friends and pay for them to have plastic surgery to look just my old ones!<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I saw we “were” rich because just as I let Nikita go from a hug far too close for “just friends” I turned around and was face to face for the second time in two weeks with the barrel of a shotgun. A tall, stocky man with a face covered by a black balaclava and eyes shielded by black designer sunglasses spoke in an accent I could not make out, a thick, amalgamation of predominantly cockney and some Spanish oddly enough. “Actually darlin’ we are rich, ALRIGHT EVERYONE THIS IS A HOLD UP, GET ON THE FLOOR NOW!” Suddenly the whole bank joined together in screaming out a crescendo of fear and panick. The mighty walls shook with the weight of hundreds instantly jumping to the floor. A few pathetic security attempted to demand the men to drop their guns but all that got them was an early grave, these guys obviously were not kidding around. I noticed a few of them near the door picked off any remaining guards in case they got an idea for heroics. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“Well, this fun isn’t it?” Laying on the floor next to Nikita I saw a panicked in her eyes, or as much as I could discern from eyes that glow in the dark, trying to keep up a sarcastic front I lay there honestly not knowing what to do. Looking around there were eight men in total, each one carrying a sawn off shotgun and judging by the looks of their bomber jackets had another side arm concealed, they were professionals not just some young kids looking to get on the news. I had to think of a way to get out of there alive.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“Michelle? My God Michelle Summercrow is that you?” Walking over to us with a spring in his step one of the goons motioned for me and Nikita to get up, standing up he placed his shotgun at his side and embraced Nikita and myself in turn in a hug. “God its been what, two years since we last saw each other? Time does fly doesn’t it? Even when your dead you wonder where the days go!” Dead, what, did he just say dead? This goon was noticeably thinner than the others, his balaclava hung over his face like a sheet draped over nothing but bone. Unfortunately I found out too soon that was the case. Lifting up his balaclava he revealed a skull, a SKULL! No skin, no nothing, just a skull and two dim red lights glowing in his SKULL! I suddenly knew why they all had accents I couldn’t place, we were in a bank making polite chit chat with our undead who presumably had lived in London for so long their old world accents had been diluted.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“Cortez its you! God you’re right it has been years, you were at the plot down the hill from mine right?” Nikita’s face lighted up at this revelation, it didn’t seem like we were going to die but I felt pangs of jealously nonetheless. My day had just gone downhill.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“Well of course, you were from the posh side of the cemetery, back in our day we didn’t have all that fancy preservatives like you’ve got, hence the face” he pointed at his skull with his shotgun, classy guy. “And not to mention that lovely lining and nice, varnished coffins.” If he saw the inside of her coffin I will……… Wait a minute, he’s a skeleton, how would they? It didn’t matter to me then and it doesn’t matter looking back. He will die, again, if he did! <o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“So you are…… Like Michelle? I’m taking it? Were you brought back by the good doctor as well?” I wasn’t quite sure how to broach the subject but seeing Cortez’s face made me wonder if my bride to be would go the same way as Faceless.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“Oh no, no! Me and the boys were members of the Spanish Inquisition, a little tid bit kept out of the history books was that after we was all captured we got cursed, to always remain at the gates of Heaven and rot, not the best deal in the world but at least its not literal, hate to be stuck up there sat around for an eternity, can have a lot more fun down here. But do you know how hard it is getting a job when you don’t have face? And contrary to popular belief we have to eat too!”<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“But Michelle doesn’t eat? And how did you two meet, I thought you were stolen from your grave and brought back to life by the doctor?” Somehow, this conversation was making less sense to me than originally.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“I was, but I escaped a few times and with nowhere else to go I went back to my grave, which is where I met Cortez and everyone” Putting her hand up to the others each one of them gave a polite wave. If you could have seen it…… “whatever it was that I was injected with stops the decaying process and I don’t have to eat. Guess that’s one point to man made Zombies!”<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“Well I guess it my love, but we do have super strength and all that!” They were playing a game of Zombie one upmanship… But at least then I learned that my beautiful rose of the cematary would always be young and beautiful, when I was 70 I would have the sexiest dead girlfriend in the old folks home, which in an old folks home must be a difficult contest to win indeed.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“Yo Cortez man we gotta get to the vault” calling over friend over the one who pointed his gun at me waved him over to join them on the way to the vault. Judging by how we was at the front and was the one who gave the signal for them to attack he must have been the mastermind of this tea party. “Be there in a second man, hate to cut our reuinion short but got a job to do. Wait a minute why don’t you and your “friend” join us? Be fun and we can talk about the good old days” Okay the way he said “friend made me like him slightly more, but while I wasn’t one for robbing banks I hadn’t eaten in four days and I was curious to see where all this would lead. <o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">With that I headed with undead “friend” Nikita and a group of bank robbing, Zombies soldiers from the Spanish Inquisition. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5580935184107044959.post-33660611900466756222012-01-23T09:04:00.000-08:002012-01-23T09:04:10.835-08:00Sadly with this I can no longer keep up my pretense of insanity<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Now after two rather strange posts from your humblest of writers I am doing a much more conventional post now.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">What am I doing tomorrow you ask? Well not what I originally planned which is playing Half Life 2 and making sweet, sweet, salty lovin’ to Headcrabs with my beautiful red crowbar! No instead I have to go in to IT whereupon I will be tempted to use that red crowbar to remove my tutors gums without anesthetic. You see before Christmas I passed my final IT exam and had handed all of my coursework, which he marked one by one and then asked me to send it to him through email so he can go over it during Christmas but not to worry since he didn’t think he would find anything wrong. But if he did he would email me, well I never got an email and then when I went to hand in my final criminal law and history essays to the course overhead she asked me why hadn’t I been in to IT lately…. So tomorrow I need to go in and be lectured on how I am a very naughty girl for not going in to college on days when I wasn’t even supposed to!!! The last time I was in there he was being supervised because he had had so many complaints from students, I can see why now! I suspect I’ve been called in to make up the numbers because so many people have left his class. If tomorrow you see in the news an IT teacher has been gone at with a razor and salt you know who has done it.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">On lighter news though me and me GFs relationship is looking up, we told her parents that we have broken up and now her father leaves her alone. No more ten hour scream-A-thons at how I am a immoral blight upon the beautiful straight race :P you know, despite that his DAUGHTER got with and has been going out with a GIRL for four years, its my fault for corrupting her and dragging in to my sleazy world of showtunes, Judy Garland music and clubs with hundreds of women but we all have the same haircut O_O yep, my fault that ladies and gentleman…. Her mother knows we are still together and doesn’t care as long as we don’t mention until he has moved back to his own house and can’t scream at her or anything like that. So now that’s out of the way we are happier than ever and these days I am always reminded of why I fell in love with the most beautiful Goddess in all of creation. Its good that I can at last see some light at the end of the tunnel of this situation. As for dealing with what he says when he finds out, well he won’t be living with my GF and that’s really a problem for future Jessica to handle, not mine :P<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">All around at the minute I suppose I cant really complain, even college tomorrow isn’t that big of a deal, yes I shouldn’t be called in but I wont have to do any work anyway. Ive already done it and when I get home I can back to listening to White Zombie Astro Creep 2000 and playing that most beautiful game Half Life 2, I didn’t think it was possible for them to top the first one or the brilliant expansion pack Opposing Force but they did. Now they just need to get around to doing Episode 3, if that becomes another Duke Nukem Forever I will send my loyal teddy minions out in to the night to kill! Or just go on the GameFAQs forums and bitch and stuffs, whichever one seems most appropriate at the time. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5580935184107044959.post-2895593688038930112012-01-23T05:58:00.000-08:002012-01-23T05:58:15.030-08:00At this point I am really wondering if their is much of a point to anything I write<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">The other night I was laying in bed and my phone went off, it was around 2:30am which is not anything out of the ordinary for many of my friends to text me at this time so I wasn’t confused. That is until I checked what the text was, it was from a number I didn’t recognize and was, shall we say, explicit in nature. Also it was from someone who was referring to me as “Ronaldo” and asking me to do something rather explicit. Ignoring as I thought texting back may make the sender feel embarrassed I kept getting them, over and over again, Ronaldo was evidently quite the stud if the messages are to be believed. But I still didn’t reply and tell them they had the wrong number. You would think that would be the end of it as eventually they stopped, but being me I couldn’t help but wonder if I hadn’t participated somehow in the break up of the century. <o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">What if Ronaldo and his “buxom wench” as she called herself were on the rocks, maybe a simple cyber sex session through text was a way to help spice up their marriage that was on its last legs? Perhaps he was a tall, muscular God of a man whom she met on a holiday with friends and became instantly drawn to his charms and could not help but move back to the Uk with him? Perhaps she was there to get over a bad break up and didn’t expect to meet him said Adonis? The heir to a wealthy tycoon family who had picked for her a dull, skinny, bookish man that they thought would help run the company after her father died? Maybe her younger brother had been planning his ultimely death so he could inherit the family but could only get the company if his sister was not married so helped pick someone he knew she could not love! 0_o when they divorced he was happy, her father knowing of his sons dark heart was worried so sent her on a holiday where perhaps she would meet the tropical man of her dreams! Coming back with Ronaldo, an opera singer with a heart of gold and very, very tight trousers, the family rejoiced, except for her brother, Tony, who wore red suits and had a thing for patrolling BDSM clubs with his wife Veronica, they also had a very evil looking cat that seemed to purr when they plotted their evil schemes. I don’t know but I think the cat, Mittens, was somehow the mastermind behind this scheme. Oh Mittens you are as cute as you are evil! As the celebrations went on the couple, with Mittens in tow, went to the drawing room to concoct an evil scheme. What they did was this; they got their friend, Beth, to come on to Ronaldo and throw herself at him, when she did they were looking through a two way mirror and took photos of it. Even though Ronaldo told her he did not want to have an affair he was a trusting type of opera singer/actor who didn’t expect such behavior and was not able to move away fast enough to escape her jumping on top him. When his wife saw the photos she was crushed, he tried to tell her the truth but having a company to run, that is possibly an oil company, she could not risk further events that may become public or need the stress when trying to set up the third world orphanages she plans to build in hopes of easing her conscience at making money from oil. No, she must go the next step of her life with her dear, sultry Ronaldo! <o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">But she could not stay away from him, his brown eyes, tanned skin and accent made him too tempting, after a few midnight meetings on the grounds of her manor house home they began and this was a way for them to have fun while becoming closer. And I, through not wanting to offend ruined it. Believing her to be gone from his life he moved back home never to be seen on British shores again </span><span style="font-family: Wingdings; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-char-type: symbol; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;"><span style="mso-char-type: symbol; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;">L</span></span><o:p></o:p></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Somewhere in an opera house far away Ronaldo is singing a mournful dirge, beautiful as it is no one really knows the truth behind his song!!!! <o:p></o:p></span></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5580935184107044959.post-81993087158721367592012-01-23T05:21:00.000-08:002012-01-23T05:21:45.631-08:00*short story* Elizabeth Everstone and the Talking Fetus<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Today I am writing another short story, a friend of mine asked me why haven’t I updated my blog for a few days and that she wants something new from me to read. Now I already had two blog posts in my mind to write that hopefully I will have time after this one to finish and get up today as well. But she said to me she wants a bedtime story now being the wonderfully Aspergers <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>girl I am took that literally and decided to write a short story. Since I didn’t really have anything in mind and don’t like the thought of going through my pile of old manuscripts and writings I had the idea of sitting at my keyboard and just writing, see what happens, nothing else. So now I am going to write with no forethought, no destination in mind and once its done I will do no corrections of any kind. With that in mind, on with the show is it?<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">If my mom could see me now she would probably moan at me for how much I’m drinking, she was always like that, proper uptight, straight laced whose idea of a good time is playing board games and talking to her equally “Stepford” friends about how much weight they’ve lost this week and all the money their husbands make and all the things they buy them, probably as a way to ease the conscience for the “business trip” they took with their secretaries the week before.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Well if she could see me now she wouldn’t judge me for drinking, I mean how could you? If you were at a the bar of some dive club chatting to some bartender who looks set for a night out at the opera in 1882 with a knockout, red headed dominatrix who literally could cast a spell on you sitting to your right and a fetus who keeps bitching at you for not changing the water in his jar and a penchant for karaoke you would drink too. <o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I’m not crazy if that’s what your thinking, well six shots of Jack ago I was a lot more certain of that, and six shots of Jack ago the fetus didn’t sound this good doing Celine Dion songs with the cowboy so lets not split hairs here shall we?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I guess you won’t be believe I’m not crazy until I explain how I ended up in this situation so lets go back to the beginning.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">My name is Elizabeth Everstone and I’m a private detective, mostly I get asked to follow husbands around or investigate their bank accounts and spending, I guess a lot of women feel more comfortable going to a woman for these kinda things, maybe they think I understand more or some such. But one night I was getting ready to down a couple shots of whiskey and zone out to the sounds of some God awful punk band who lived in the flat below me and evidently couldn’t tune their instruments or write songs without the repition of the word “bugger” or some variation of it. A good night I am sure you will agree.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Well my night was ruined when suddenly my front door swings open and in walks a guy who didn’t seem to know when he’d reached the moment you get up out of the barbers chair, I knew this on account of the fact he didn’t have the top half of his head. For that matter he didn’t have eyes, skin or teeth and looked like he had spent a couple months too long in the tanning bed, but whatever I’m sure the dead chicks, or dudes, he hung with thought he rocked the shit out of the zombie look. Jumping up from my chair I draw my revolver only to see him fall to the floor and start bleeding all over the rug I stole from my above neighbors bin after she died. Looking at my watch and seeing it was only 10:30pm I got the feeling this was going to be a long night indeed.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“Victo….ria Streeettt” In case you haven’t ever spoken to a dead guy who doesn’t have a tongue before, take it from me its not the easiest thing in the world to do. Kneeling down beside him and making sure not to stop pointing my gun at his head, not sure what good a bullet would do, I tried to understand why he had ruined what was going to be a good night in. <o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“Dude, your bleeding on my carpet, wanna stop that anytime soon?” Don’t judge me, like you would think of anything better to say in this situation. Also it was a lovely carpet.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“Victoria…. Streeettt” <o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“Victoria Street? Do you want me to go there or do you just want money for a taxi because if that’s what you want do you really think I look like I have money to spare? Also maybe you want to think about spending some money on a good skin moisturizer?”<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“Victoriiaaaa…”<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“Yes I get it, stop bugging me already, I’ll go to Victoria Street!” Getting up and grabbing my grey trench coat before shoving as many bullets in the large pockets as I could I took one last swig of whiskey and headed out to Victoria Street. Not before I warned my friend Crispy what would happen if he didn’t get his undead arse off of my carpet and stop bleeding promptly. <o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Driving to Victoria Street I couldn’t help but think that maybe my mom was right, perhaps I should have gone in to nursing. Wait scratch that, talking dead guys with half a head and my mountain of debt aside my mom is NOT right. Man I wish I had brought the bottle with me if I’m thinking crazy stuff like that.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Parking my car on Victoria Street I get out and take a look around while lighting a cigarette. Taking care to keep my other hand on my revolver in my pocket I straight away notice that…… Nothing seems out of place, nothing, the street is dead, a calm silence hangs over everything, the only light coming from the sickly, orange glow of streetlights and a few bedroom windows. I hate when Zombies trick you in to going on a wild goose chase so they can rob you. Undead, skinless bastards, all of them! Where is Leon Kennady when you need him? He wouldn’t stand for this shit!<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">My watch read 11:10pm and things were going exactly as I expected them to. I was gonna kick his arse when I get home… If he has one that is.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Leaning against the rusted bonnet of my car I take another draw on my cigarette and take one last look around the street to make sure nothing outside of the bedrooms that still had the light on was going down. Now I’m not a girl who likes being proven wrong but I can admit when I have made a mistake and from where I was stood something did seem to be going down on Victoria Street, how did I know? Well for starters when you see a guy hunched over carrying a big, bulging burlap bag with dark stains on it you start to feel suspicious, so that’s clue number one, clue number two was the way he laughed manically in way you should only ever do when tying kids to train tracks and curling your mustache because you are devilishly evil. Still not convinced? Well the Zombie walking behind him picking up the body parts that kept falling out of the aforementioned burlap sack made me think all was not well on Victoria Street. <o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Drawing my gun I started to slowly follow them, leading me to a non-assuming, semi-detached house at the far end of the street I wondered if being an evil scientist doesn’t pay so well these days. All those other evil scientists had big castles that just made you want to wear lots of white foundation and talk in a mock German accent. This one just made me wonder where the mini van and screaming kids and two minutes of missionary position sex was at. Wonder if he shared with his mom? I was interested to find these things out.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Staying a few feet behind them I watched them slink down through the open basement window, well the Zombie at least slinked, our mad scientist friend sort of squeezed through and then spent ten minutes trying to pull his “body bag” through the window, after watching that I’m afraid I just can’t stomach minced beef anymore. I reminded myself to put a bullet in him for ruining shepherds pie for me!<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Once they were all in the basement I moved closer to get a good look at them and what they were doing. The Zombie was around 6ft4 and dressed in what I’m sure was once a very nice pinstriped suit. He had all of his head too but his skin and pretty much everything else had been toasted off, he looked like he had a permanent grin on his face. So I shall call him “Smiley” the other guy was short, dumpy and bald as a Crenshaw melon, rummaging through his bag he kept laughing to himself, standing up with an arm in his hand I saw he had beady eyes and milk bottle glasses, a pencil mustache that made me decide to put another bullet in him for crimes against fashion and wore a doctors coat now covered in blood.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“This is it Victor, everything we have worked for is now coming to fruition! On this night they will see I am not crazy, I do not care what that team of psychotherapists said, or that brain scan! I am not crazy!” Judging by how Smiley only responded with a thumbs up I assumed he couldn’t talk, God typical mad scientist, loves the sound of his own voice and by coincidence has an assistant who cant talk so can’t tell him he’s a ranting idiot.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“God, will you just shut the Hell up already? You’re harshing on my mellow you ranting git!” Now that didn’t come from me, I’m almost certain I wasn’t that drunk I could have shouted something and not realized it. I’ve been that drunk before but Crispy stopped me when I was around half an hour away from reaching that blissful stage. But that voice, so sultry, so sexy! Moving in closer I catch sight of a tall, leggy and very curvy red head dressed in latex and PVC straight from the BDSM club of my dreams! *I will leave the specifics out of this as I am currently trying my luck and don’t wanna seem overeager and drooling while describing counts I believe* currently she was in a cage at the back of this nutbars basement that did not help my concentration on the case any. What she was doing there I have no idea but it seemed a crime that a guy like that had a woman like her caged and was not only far too ugly for her but was spending anything but a woman like her in a cage. So that was bullets number three and four I owed him.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“Can I have one moments peace from you! Just once can you keep your opinions to yourself?! You miserable little failure! Tonight I correct all the wrongs I made with you” Failure? Oh he did not just insult my future wife! <o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“Of course you are, we’ve heard it all before, you’re going to prove them all wrong, you’re not insane, blah, blah, blah! Going through the moments like always” Did she just say we? Hm I’m starting to like this case, I really should thank Crispy, he is a good guy, I like him. He introduced me to the twins, sultry, dominatrix twins. At least that’s what I suspected. Well not so much suspected as hoped.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Ignoring the continued insults from my future wife he moved over to some large, mechanical contraption that was covered in bloods and other things I was glad I couldn’t name and began connecting the body parts to it by means of various tubes and wires. You maybe asking yourself what my plan was at this point and I want to assure you I had a plan, I had a very good one but it reached a snag round about the point I heard a gun click and felt a cold barrel against the back of my head. Slowly turning around I looked up at a third Zombie, I wasn’t sure what the time was but, yes, the night had somehow gotten worse and from the looks of that fully loaded shotgun was about to get worse before the morning. I should have been a nurse I thought.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I finally reached the party and had been there for only two seconds before I wanted to leave. The stench was horrendous, standing next to the cage I got a good look at the women and realized this was it, I was truly in love. She would make a beautiful, pale, winter bride. “Well, well have you come to witness the end of the world?” The evil scientist greeted me with another cliché and a torrent of bad breath.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“Actually I just came over to borrow some sugar, but now I’m here; babe in a cage, Zombie, gangster henchman and a bunch of body parts, I can see you are a guy I wanna party with! So what do you say we just break out some beers, your lady friend here can do a dance and we’ll just forget all about this whole taking over the world stick?” Apparently he didn’t share my sense of humour. With a click of his fingers Smiley cracked me one in the jaw, that was one owed straight to Smiley, I can take a punch but 6ft of dead meat straight at your face hurts no matter who you are. Doubling over I obviously wasn’t seen as much of a threat as they went straight back to what they were doing. Moving over to the cage I thought I’d be respectful and not yet ask her to lick it better but rather get the lowdown on whats going on here.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“Basic mad scientist, trying to take over the world by building an army of indestructible Zombies, very cliché”<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“So what are you doing here?” Besides walking right in to my dreams…. <o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“I was his first experiment, he stole me from the morgue, thought the fresher the better you know, but he couldn’t control me like he does those two. My brain hadn’t decayed enough for that to work but the longer they’ve been dead, well, I’ve been here a few months and lets say its messy..”<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“So, basically you’re a Zombie? Is that what you’re saying?”<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“Yeah, can’t remember much of how I died or my life before, but I can gather enough from the clothes to get a good idea of what I was up to”<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“That’s okay you’re a Zombie, we can still make it work!”<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“Huh”<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“Nothing, just thinking out loud”<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">The fact she was a Zombie aside she was still hot and Elizabeth never leaves a babe in distress, dead or not! I was pretty certain that no matter how dead these mobsters a few bullets would make them deader, but I couldn’t do anything with that goon pointing a shotgun at me. The moment I reach for my revolver he’d put two slugs in me and I at least wanted to live until our wedding night. <o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“You there, skinny blonde girl, come here!” Always nice being spoken to so respectfully…<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Walking over to my host I took one look at what he was doing with the machine and now I can’t have kebab either.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“I need an extra pair of hands and apart from handling guns my friends have very little skills and I refuse to ASK FOR HELP FROM THAT WITCH!” He shouted in the direction of Mrs Everstone. “While I load the machine I need you to pour the mixture in to the tubes there.” Picking up a bowl of what smelled like liquid funk and not in the good way I noticed it bubbling and spitting. Shotgun wielding goon was standing next to me, out the corner of my eye I could see Smiley was a few paces away and he wasn’t holding any weapons, our host was so wrapped up in what he was doing and so assured of his victory he didn’t even look up from his work. I suddenly decided if I was going to get out of this nuthouse I had to do something, and it was very stupid, but I had to try, I was going to die no matter what I did so may as well try and do a majorly stupid thing and impress a babe, right?<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Spinning round I threw the boil of funky liquid at the rotund goons head and judging by the shrill scream he let out and the way he fell back the liquid burned and he didn’t have a tongue either. Smiley instantly leapt for me and it was time I figured to pay him back for that cheap shot he got in earlier. Reaching back I hit him square in the head as hard as I could, feeling my knuckles crack I wondered who that hurt more but at least I was still on my feet. Moving against the wall so I could survey the scene, I drew my gun, now my chunky friend wasn’t exactly doing terribly well in the life stakes as was but somehow he had even less flesh and even less life than before so at least someone was having a worse night than myself. Smiley was about to get up for round three but a few bullets made him think twice and he stayed down.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“You idiot! What have you done you stupid girl! I am the future ruler of the….” Four bullets I owed him was it? I may have miscounted and he got a few more, I wanted to make sure when I put him down he stayed down. Perhaps relaoading and going again was a bit much but I’m a careful girl you see.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“Now lets get you out of here,” at that moment I was on top of the world, opening the cage I helped her out and I know she was impressed.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“Well you sure know how to use that gun” <o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“I don’t like to brag, I’m not the best shot in the world but she carries real big bullets” I am not sure if this was a flirty conversation or not….. <o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“Have you forget about me now the blonde piece is here?” I suddenly remembered there was another prisoner here, a shrill voice piped up and moving away from the cage I peered in but all I could see was a small, dirty jar with green water in it at the back.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“Oh I’m sorry Jon! Let me get you” Bending down to pick the JAR up I got a good luck at what was inside. <o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“Is that a fetus, with a Scottish accent?!” <o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“Don’t you be thinking about throwing around insults lass, you humans don’t look so good to me!”<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“Humans? You. Aren’t. Human?”<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“Can ye not tell? I’m a Lion! King of Beasts”<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“It’s a long story I’m sure you can imagine and I am not drunk enough for that yet. By the way I’m Nikita, well, that’s what I call myself, can’t really remember my old name” Ahhh Nikita Everstone, what a ring to it.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">That’s basically my story, leaving the house we decided to head out to the bar for a drink where Lion or not, fetus in a jar or not that little dude belts out a tune. Before you walked in with all the questions we decided since Nikita doesn’t have anywhere else to go and Leon *he picked it* is, well, a talking Lion fetus in a jar with a Scottish they are gonna come home with me. Maybe now with some extra help I can take on more cases. Gonna need a bigger flat that is for sure. 1:30am…….. You know the rest, I need another drink.<o:p></o:p></span></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5580935184107044959.post-18504367756562674952012-01-19T11:30:00.001-08:002012-01-19T11:30:17.219-08:00Soul Mates never die<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">This is quite a personal blog post born from recent experiences that have happened to me and to a number of my friends, born as much from my own observations of these events and conversations I have had of late. I do not know if many will agree with my thoughts here but it is a mixture of what I believe and what I hope so dearly to be true.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Soul Mates has been a concept that has always fascinated, two people destined to meet who are so utterly perfect for each other that they are inseparable through life and in to whatever lies beyond. Now I am a romantic in the purest of sense *and a romantic with a capital R if anyone gets that* I love candlelit dinners, long walks under the moonlight and everything else that goes along with relationships. So it is only natural that I would think quite often upon Soul Mates, especially since so many of my friends are going through tough times in their relationships right now, it seems no one I know is truly happy in love these days and after many conversations and trying to offer some advice and guidance I decided to share my thoughts with the blogging world.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">It seems odd to me that when relationships break down there are rallying cries of “but we are perfect for each other” and “how could it go so wrong when we are truly in love” perfectly normal responses but when it all finally breaks down and the couple go their separate ways they often times forget each other, never speak again and want to banish any memory they ever had of one another before starting a new relationship, but why? This is someone whom you loved dearly with you very heart and soul. Maybe it did not work out, maybe you hurt each other in the end but you did love them at one time. They seemed so very perfect for you, and why were they not just because it ended? I find the belief of one utterly perfect being for you so completely benign, maybe we have more than one soul mate? I am not the same person I was at 14 when I first felt real feelings for someone, and I most certainly am not the same person I was back then, but does that mean they were never right for me? I don’t want to think so at all, to love and be loved for your life does not mean never changing so the relationship lasts, we all change even if we do not realize it, its surely not hindsight only that means I would go back and do things differently, nor is it the knowledge I have accumulated in the interim. Its simply because I am no longer that girl. So that person is not right for me, but they were once upon a time, they were my soul mate for that phase of my life, they were what I wanted back then and unfortunately I want different things now. But I do not regret and no one should regret a relationship when it ends, because you were looking for something you wouldn’t look for now, don’t feel bad please, just see it as a person who came along and helped you from one phase of your life to the next, you may longer have need of them but you have memories, try to look at the pictures from the eyes of the person you once were and you just may see them with more love. <o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">When a relationship ends through one of you falling out of love, is it because they hate you? Because they feel you are ugly or no longer meet their standards or because they have grown apart, become someone else, moved on to another place in their life and you have gone with them as far as you need to. Its sad indeed but that leaves you open to finding someone new, someone right for you are in your life. As I said above just see it as life has gifted you with more than one soul mate, one for each person you have been and will become.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Another thing I have been wondering lately is people who fall in love with more than one person. Granted I do not believe everyone can do this, only a few, is it through a deeper understanding of their own emotions or maybe a lack there of? Its not for me to choose or say since I have never really felt these strong emotions. I do still feel love for people in my past, it is no longer a love that would make me want to be with them nor is it as strong as my love for my GF, no one could ever take her place in my heart. But love was once there for those people and when you feel it can never truly go away unless it was never real to begin with. Sometimes I sit and think back to those cherished moments with them and my eyes mist over, because I did feel for them. I am not sorry it happened only sad as to how it ended, I think that’s a nice way to look at it. To feel blessed you met them and were gifted their company for a short time and that you will soon be gifted with someone new. I digress however, maybe loving more than one is something that does not replace the love you have for someone, it only compliments it, runs alongside each other for you are someone with multi facets to your personality that one person cannot fulfill? <o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">In closing I have not forgotten that there are people who live their whole lives with one person. Maybe they are lucky? Maybe they simply grow together and change in to such similar people? Or they may not be soul mates, its strange to me that most people proclaim they have met their soul mate in the area in which they grew up. How do they not know that the person who is most right for them is not on the other side of the world? Why is it always so convenient? I know a few couples who have been together their whole lives and do not to me seem in love, merely confusing friendship for love, they are so alike they have fooled themselves in to thinking that is a Soul Mate, not someone who challenges them, accepts their differences and goes along with it, but a person who is so alike to them that they are good friends. Then again, it is not for me to judge, this is just my observations and opinions. I hope people agree with me *I do love that* or comment below and share their opinions </span><span style="font-family: Wingdings; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-char-type: symbol; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;"><span style="mso-char-type: symbol; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;">J</span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> now go and comment minions! <o:p></o:p></span></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5580935184107044959.post-89868279732482888232012-01-15T19:35:00.000-08:002012-01-15T19:35:26.111-08:00I'm feeling low today, is this the latest fashion?<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">For the few of you out there that read my blog regularly and will one day surely amass yourselves in to an army and overthrow the world like the good little minions that you are will surely know your humble narrator has not been going through the best of times at the minute. Well, let me rephrase that its as if Satan came up from Hell, interrupted me while throwing a dinner party for my family and friends, urinated in my soup *my favvy food* strapped me to the table, carved out my heart with a spoon, then went at the remains with a razor and lemon juice while telling my parents where my porn collection is, what’s in it and having a depressed violinist play Chopin in drop E *the saddest of all musical notes* oh and the violinists girlfriend left him this morning. No, I am not happy.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">In short my girlfriends parents have forbid me from ever going to their houses again, and when in a long distance relationship that’s a pretty big problem. In any other situation I suppose it wouldn’t be so bad, lots of parents don’t like nor want to ever speak to their children’s choice of partner, but when I have to go and stay at their house to see my girlfriend well it makes things pretty awkward if they wanna run me down in their car. Aside from this they have took to taking every chance they can to run me down to her, which is making her feel pretty ill and unhappy to be stuck in the middle. I am not exactly sure why they have done this, I think at this point they haven’t got much of an idea either, its more like Jessica=SCUM! In their books. Though I think a big part is me being transgender, not so much I’m trans but that I’m a trans girl and they don’t like their daughter being in a lesbian relationship, I bet they also hate it at that gay people don’t get chased with pitchforks everywhere we go and that people no longer believe the Earth is flat. In case you are wondering why this has never been an issue before in our relationship I honestly don’t know, if I got their logic I would be worried I’m as loony as they are.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">But I digress, if I continue down that path of bile and venom I won’t stop and my parents will find me in the morning in a cold bath clutching a toaster, knowing my luck just as I get in we will have a power shortage….. The reason I am telling you this is because the universities I applied to are around where my girlfriend lives and I simply don’t have the money to support myself over there and my family cant either. I was banking on staying with her family, getting a part time job when I can and avoiding a lot of the debt and costs of uni, isn’t it nice when a plan works out? Now that’s out the window I am going to have to apply to the Open University *do a uni course from home* but that means staying at home and transitioning! So not only have they stopped me seeing my girlfriend pretty much completely as her schedule is so busy she doesn’t have much time to come and see me, messed up my uni plans but also my transition. My family while not as bad as hers aren’t totally comfortable with the situation so transitioning here is not an idea I am looking forward to. But you gotta do what you gotta do, I was so looking forward to this year, I had so much hope and everything just seems to have fallen apart, everything I had in place has gone to wreck and ruin and I don’t know how it will all work out in the end. What goes through my mind is that her family were so close to me, so behind me and my transition and our relationship and now they have made a complete about face and wrecked all my plans. <o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">This is a pretty personal post, and maybe tomorrow I will regret writing it but right now at 3 30am I really wanna get all this off my chest. I have heard good things about the OU courses and maybe if things ever improve with my girlfriends parents it means I can travel easily without it affecting my work as I can take it with me, also while I am transitioning and in early stages not having to go to uni, travel and all that is pretty good for me. I am free to do a lot of things that uni might get in the way of, so maybe this is all for the best but Goddamn I wish it had come about in an easier way. <o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
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</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5580935184107044959.post-41848456080309883142012-01-15T13:32:00.000-08:002012-01-15T13:32:28.424-08:00Together we move through life hand in hand<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Lately I have been playing the final installment in a game series I love so very dearly; Legacy of Kain, released back in the early 90s starting with the game Blood Omen: Legacy of Kain centered around the character of Kain, a nobleman murdered by thieves in the night and brought back as a Vampire to slay his murderers. Of course on paper this sounds like a pretty good deal he soon realizes things are not as they seem and his helpful benefactor has his own ulterior motives for bringing him back as a vampire. Now I wont spoil it for anyone who is going to play the series or is currently in the process of playing them and does not know the ending. <o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">The series then branched off and became Soul Reaver: Legacy of Kain centered around Raziel, Kain’s first vampiric lieutenant who is murdered by Kain and brought back as a wraith, a creature that feeds on souls and sets about wanting to put the boot to Kain’s empire as being burned alive is not something he found enjoyable or polite to do to ones friends. Murdering a friend in such a fashion really does ruin a perfectly good dinner and is not something I recommend any of you do.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Now I played the first of the series back when I was around 10 in primary school and played the others as they came out, right the way through to the very last game in the series “Defiance” but when it came out I just couldn’t play it, it felt like I was losing good friends, being turned away from somewhere I had always called home, I knew the dank, destroyed terrain of Nosgoth as well as I know my own village. I wasn’t ready for it to end. I suddenly realized that when things in my life were bad I always had Kain and Raziel there to pick me up, there to comfort and give me a distraction from my own pain. I could slip away in to a world of vampires, monsters and mystery, I felt like I belonged in their world more than my own. They may have reached the end of their journey and were about to find a resolution but I was not at the end of mine, I had found no resolution to my problems. So on release date I put my £40 down on the counter and took it home, scouring the manual and pouring over the artwork I took it all in, this may be the last time I see two dear friends. Before last week I had never even played it, not even once to see the opening cut scene. I finally decided to play it when things became unbearable for me and I needed something familiar, a relic from my childhood, I desired the comfort of familiarity and loaded it up, now Kain and Raziel were finally together in one game, both playable, a sign they had at last reached the end of a journey I began with them ten years ago or more. <o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">It suddenly hit me, I was sad because as they grew and matured so did I, as they move through their misery and anguish I moved through mine. The three of us were going through the worst times of our lives, but whereas they were seeing an ending to such torment mine seeing to be beginning. I couldn’t stand the thought that I was going to have to go the rest of my journey alone without them.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Realizing this I thought about how in the past I have watched friends and family go through a bad time and have latched on to a particular TV series or game series and played it relentlessly for comfort, for a distraction. But maybe its not really an escape as we so often think it is. Why I believe I have latched on to Legacy of Kain and was so bent on not giving it up is because as I watched Raziel and Kain move through their adventure, solving puzzles and fighting demons I felt as I uncovered another piece of their story and beat a boss it was like in my mind a piece of my torment had been lifting, that things in my life were getting better. It felt like by the end of their story a resolution would have been made in my own story. Then when I saw the end was near and my life was getting worse if anything I didn’t want to finish it, I couldn’t accept with the end of their story my own would be no better so I denied, just didn’t play it. Even now playing the game I feel hope in the back of my mind that when I say goodbye to Nosgoth for the last time I hope things for me are better, I hope things just will be a little better.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I am reminded of a plotline in the TV series Twin Peaks, when a main character suffers a breakdown he believes he is a general in the American Civil War and that people have to act it out with him for when he turns it around and the South wins he will return to normal, because he changed this and brought the story to a conclusion then he feels his own life and troubles can get better.<o:p></o:p></span></div><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">I am interested to hear what others feel about this, if anything :) </span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5580935184107044959.post-20560748495027739002012-01-15T13:11:00.001-08:002012-01-15T13:11:57.526-08:00Yeah, well the Hammer Horror version was better so SCREW YOU!<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">As I am now back at college my blog posts will probably be based around what is going there and my attempt to get to uni as well as the work I am doing in my classes, friendships etc<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Going to college this year as a fully out Transgender woman my experiences with college and meeting people is noticeably a lot different to what it was last year. Hopefully people will find this interesting.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">This week I had to give a presentation for literary studies based around either Mary Shelley and her knowledge of the social climate of the day and how she integrated that in to her novel Frankenstein or her knowledge of the science of the day and how that affected the writing of the novel. When this was given to me it sounded rather interesting, as a big fan of the novel and my interest in Shelley and the social circles she travelled in I had been eagerly learning of her and her life. But this presentation was different, I had been expecting to have to compose a detailed essay on this topic, I picked science, who wouldn’t want to do an essay based Galvinism and experiments conducted upon the dead using electricity? It is just so positively fascinating to me! But despite this being LITERARY studies we had to give a presentation based around a poster showing the information, I could not wrap my head around this, and all around the class their were cries of “when did this become art class?” My sentiments exactly. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I could not and still cannot see what this had to with literary studies or how we could really get to grips with the source topic and give an in depth analysis worthy of such a woman and her greatest work. <o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">But due to my personal life still conflicting with my work I forgot all about it *spoke about in one of my previous posts* and had to stay up late working on it. I did something of a poster on Paint and then wrote about 2-3 pages to read out to the class. I thought this was good enough, as surely the poster is secondary to the material I have written myself, as long as it shows through pictures Mary’s life and influences science wise what more can I do really? Well I was wrong. When I got in to class I saw people had gone to town with glue and other materials that when they brought the posters in it seemed more like arts and craft time at my old nursery. Big bright colourful posters filled the room and all of a sudden any literary merit I felt this assignment had went straight out the window. Ten minute presentations were given that no more delved in to the creation of this work than the Hammer Horror Frankenstein brought it to life on the silver screen. Most of them spent more time focusing on the film adaptions than anything else! Something I had failed to do….<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">By my turn I was feeling rather nervy about my own presentation and asked to do it with the tutor and a few friends, which he didn’t look terribly pleased about. Something that slightly irked me, when I asked that and said I was nervy the whole class turned to face me, because when someone is genuinely nervous the thing you do is turn and stare them down with everyone else right? Even a few people who hadn’t even prepared a presentation and still now haven’t done it stared at me accusingly! But I gave it and my tutor didn’t seem terribly impressed at my poster, I did pass it but he said that my poster should have been better…. I thought content wise it was pretty good but I do not profess to have terribly fantastic artistic skills so what can I do? If I was good at art I would be in an art class not a literary studies one. I just cannot help but feel a little irked about people with less content but better artistic skills than myself getting higher marks. It just does not seem right.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Well that’s my rant over and done with, looking over it now it seems a bit pompous but I really did work hard on it and feel I got cheated due to my lack of artistic, plus I cant see how it’s a viable assignment for my class.<o:p></o:p></span></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5580935184107044959.post-32323534233504170902012-01-11T13:34:00.000-08:002012-01-11T13:34:32.040-08:00The long night of the soul.... Or mind as it wereToday is a post on why I shall not be making a post *don't act like that doesn't make sense* <br />
Well I went back to college today and met up with a friend before class who asked me if I am ready for the literary studies presentation tomorrow.... -_- Inside I was screaming, on the outside I was struggling to scream through tears :P I have been so consumed with the fact that my personal life has just descended to the seventh layer of Hell itself I had completely forgotten about it! Luckily it seems I am not the only one who had forgotten, before we broke for Christmas we could not decide when to have the presentation before or after, well actually it was only one person who wanted it after Christmas since they had a lot of work to catch up on before. And since we never really officially set the date many of us are more than a little unprepared for it. But since my grades are pretty high and have been through the course I really do not want to suffer just because of what is happening to me outside of college, that would be laying down and dying, I refuse to let things affect my education, if I do then my life will never get better!<br />
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Of course since its my life it couldn't just be this, no, after she went to her class I saw another friend who asked me if I am ready for the history exam we are about to have O_O its moments like this I like to believe in God because it gives me someone to pray to and curse all at once. She basically had to collar me and drag me in to class after drugging me and I sat down and realised I actually had no idea what the exam was on. It was such a wonderous surprise to see the question there and realise I haven't opened a text book on history since before Christmas *I only did my law essay the night before I handed it in, got full marks BTW* so I finished the exam in 25min, had two hours, not sure if thats either because I had so little to say or because I did really well but the answers came pretty easy to me. Fingers crossed for me, and for a normal post tomorrow :)<br />
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Tonight I will be working in to the night to get this presentation done, gonna stick some Elton John, make a massive cup of damn good black coffee and hope if I get it done then tomorrow I won't look so bad I don't look like I crawled out of the primordial ooze but the primoridal ooze itselfUnknownnoreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5580935184107044959.post-15526127927152375672012-01-10T09:37:00.000-08:002012-01-10T09:37:52.333-08:00I'm gonna DJ at the end of the worldI thought today here I would make a post of my favourite videos from the top three albums on the previous list. If you enjoy them please tell me what you think, always happy to discuss music with anyone.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/qGNeg7EVL3M?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Elton John-The Captain and the Kid, beautiful song looking back over a lifetime of friendship. Always makes me tear up a little bit, what a way to end the album!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/dkZoB6aakNg?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">A touching love song, quite subdued compared to the rest of the album. Never fails to make me think of my beautiful GF, I just love it.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/0MFPmmSWqyU?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">My all time favvy song :) its impossible to not get up and dance around the room like an idiot singing in to your hairbrush</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5580935184107044959.post-85345793487928761552012-01-10T09:30:00.000-08:002012-01-10T09:30:17.467-08:00Dancing at the dawn of Armageddon part 2<span lang="">I must apologize for not updating yesterday but had to work on an essay for my criminal law class such fun but I did it get ready in time and can now finish part 2 of my top ten favvy albums of all time! Now that apologies are out of the way we shall get on with the show.<br />
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5. Insane Clown Posse-Hells Pit<br />
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Release date: 2004<br />
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Genre: Horrorcore rap<br />
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Now this one will probably turn a few heads, but I absolutely love the Insane Clown Posse, yes they wear clown make up, yes they do have a few silly songs but at heart, in my opinion, they do have a serious message and a large amount of talent. They can rap and they do rap, just a little differently to other more mainstream rappers but each rapper has their own unique style, you can’t compare one to another. On this album it is the last of the first series of Jokers Cards, and the "other half" to The Wraith, this one shows the listener what will happen if they live a life of evil and show no compassion for others. The Wraith on the front cover is outstretching its hand to take you on a tour of Hells Pit. The lyrics are some of the darkest they have written, mostly devoid of their trademark humour that helps break up the seriousness of their message and with a production that is both murky and heavy on the bass. The band were at the time not speaking to their usual producer Mike E Clark and have got Esham on board, what else would you expect from the rapper responsible for the album "Kill The Fetus"? As with its sister album "Shangri La" the albums comes with either a concert CD or a mini film to their song "Bowling Balls"<br />
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4. The Smashing Pumpkins-MACHINA/The Machines of God<br />
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Release date: 2000<br />
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Genre: alternative rock<br />
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The last album recorded by what many consider to be the "real" Pumpkins, or you could say the last album before Billy Corgan’s ego caused them to implode. An album that was originally meant to be a two disc album about a rockstar living in a futuristic world named Glass who becomes some sort of a messiah figure and……… Yeah, Virgin Records for some reason thought a two disc album like this wouldn’t sell very well, especially after their previous album "Adore" had made fans feel distant from them and grunge was in its death throes and metal was all the rage. So Billy Corgan trimmed it down to one disc and released the incomplete disc 2 for free on the internet. *its still available and despite its convulted plot if you listen to it all at once its amazing!* Billy Corgan’s is raw and rough throughout the record, the guitars are tuned up high and dominate the sound once more like on their debut "Gish" sweeping syth sounds undercut the guitars giving the slow songs a little bit of a softer but for the most part this is a raw album and one that was made to be played live. While the plotline is a little thin on the ground, the lyrics are some of the best of Corgan’s songwriting career, I challenge anyone to listen to Eye of the Morning without feeling misty eyed. They are personal and definitely display how alienated the band where feeling at the time. <br />
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3. Elton John-Captain and the Kid<br />
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Release date: 2006<br />
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Genre: rock<br />
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The nights me and Mark have spent drink in hand playing this album in the early hours of the morning are too numerous to mention but its one that has many fond memories for me. Elton’s paino is finally back at the forefront after years of soft rock and soppy love balladeering, and he sounds like he is having an amazing time and bashing out honky tonk contempary country style music. His voice is rough from his, at the time, recent throat operation. The album is a sequel to his and Bernie’s early 70s masterpiece "Captain Fantastic and the Brown Dirt Cowboy" finishing the story of Elton and Bernie’s rise to the top filled with all of the broken relationships, drug addictions and reflections upon dear friends lost to the terrible AIDs virus. It’s a touching and intensely emotional album, one that when you listen to it you should have a good friend and even better drink with which to while away the night talking of adventures and friends and lovers long since past, because that is what this album is, it’s a conversation between Elton and Bernie about their lives together. Its short, sharp and maybe only ten tracks long but it gets in plenty of punches during that time.<br />
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2. Darren Hayes-The Tension and the Spark<br />
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Release date: 2007<br />
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Genre: Pop/electronic/dance<br />
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So this album effectively killed Darren Hayes’ career for a few years and sent in to his record company in to panic mode, they expected another album in the style of his first solo album "Spin" a flashy pop album filled with light lyrics and dancefloor grooves. What they get was an album spawned from his divorce, his recent coming out and attempt to become involved in the gay scene and find love. So not a cheerful one. Whereas the previous album has many happy memories for me this is one I return to when feeling lost in love and life, an album that helps me reflect upon my problems, feel like I am not alone. I cannot believe that anyone in the world will not relate to at least one of these songs here. The music is cutting edge dark dance music, as usual he works with a team of collaborators’ and here is probably the tightest team he has ever worked with, never since the early days of Savage Garden has he been so at the fore front of dance music, the lyrics talk of the struggle between light and darkness, sex and love, friendship and hatred, and the music moves from orchestral synths and low, murky erotic dancefloor grooves. This is an album to be played alone, early in the morning, in bed and with a decent pair of headphones on. Only then can you experience the meaning of his lyrics and the subtleties of music. The NME called him a genius, they were not wrong.<br />
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1. David Bowie-Never Let Me Down<br />
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Release date: 1987<br />
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Genre: New wave/rock/pop<br />
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David Bowie apologised for this album publically saying how much he hated it and did not want his fans to hear it. Well I adore this album, its brilliant, never before or since have Bowie's lyrics been so socially conscious, has he sounded like he is actually having fun on record! His voice was sweet with enough ageing to give it a rich, deep sound and helps the listener get that Bowie knows what he is talking about, that the songs are lived in and well worn. This album was Bowie's full embracement of the new wave movement, a movement born from people who were know of age but in youth inspired by his "Berlin" trilogy of albums. Well that genre birthed some brilliant bands but it all sounded trite when Bowie himself stepped in to the scene. its an album that sounds sunny, the music is drenched in 80s excess and conjures up images of Miami Vice, every track on this album is simply begging to be played in a club, as with Blind Melon every party I have stuck this album on at has gotten people moving straight to their feet and started dancing. My all time favorite album, I never get bored of it and it never fails to put a smile on my face. <br />
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Well there you have it, my top ten favvy albums, these are the stories of my life, each one is connected to my life in some way, each one has a handful of good and bad memories.<br />
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I hope if you listen to any of these albums or songs from them you will please tell me in the comments below.<br />
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</span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5580935184107044959.post-20522867549457379182012-01-08T08:20:00.000-08:002012-01-08T08:20:55.851-08:00Dancing at the dawn of Armageddon part 1<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">First things first I have not made any updates for a few days as things have not been terribly well in the world of Jessica </span><span style="font-family: Wingdings; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-char-type: symbol; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;"><span style="mso-char-type: symbol; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;">L</span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> so todays and tomorrows post will be a two part countdown of my top ten favorite albums of all time. I wanted something happy for me to write, something that might take my mind off of things.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">10. Lordi-The Monsterican Dream<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Release date: 2004<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Genre: Hard rock/shock rock<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I was first planning on placing this album higher on the list as it is an album I listen to quite frequently and I enjoy it immensely but sadly I am trying to not only share with you a few stories about why they mean so much to me but also to give a slight critical evaluation. Looking at the other albums on this list I felt that as fun as this album is the musicianship just isn’t as good as the others nor is the music as original. Lordi are a band that follows in roughly the same tradition as Kiss and Alice Cooper but with more of a modern edge and heavy metal stylings, image wise they also have monster costumes that gets them compared to GWAR *unfairly in my opinion* This is there second album and is lyrically darker to what came before and has come since, song titles such as “Blood Red Sandman” and “Children of the Night” should give you an idea of what you are in for. The music is much heavier and quite similar to Rob Zombie’s debut album “Hellbilly Deluxe” the guitars are tuned down low and all the songs have guitar solos set to an industrial-esque drumbeat.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">This album does however have some flaws, Mr Lordi is not exactly the best or strongest singer and I feel a few of the songs are lyrically quite weak and could have been taken off to make the album stronger if fairly short. But I have fond memories of this album, when I went down to my GFs house for the first time I listened to this album on repeat so for me this album represents that wonderous day.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">9. Five Iron Frenzy-Our Newest Album Ever<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Release date: 1997<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Genre: Christian Ska<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">There is often a certain stigma attached to a band when they label themselves as being “Christian” but in my opinion this band are so good and lyrically quite fantastic that I have read a lot of comments from fans saying they do not feel the need to be Christian to enjoy the bands music. Musically they set themselves apart from other “third wave ska bands” by incorporating other musical elements *to varying degrees of success* lyrically they often address problems and contradictions within the Christian religion, the plight of Native Americans, life in an underground band warts and all, and oddly a song about how great it is living in Canada *they make it sound so brilliant* being a somewhat Christian *I am transgender after all* the lyrics speak to me, how unafraid they are to point out faults and flaws within their own faith and that each of their albums have a handful of non-religious songs that are just damn good ska. Doug TenNapel *created Earthworm Jim and wrote and drew the comic mini series Gear* did the artwork for many of the bands albums including this one.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">8. Black Grape-Its Great When Your Straight….. Yeah!<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Release date: 1995<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Genre: Experimental dance/Britpop<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">What can really be said<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>about a band who names themselves after their favorite flavor of fizzy pop? Formed by Shaun William Ryder after his previous band The Happy Mondays pretty much imploded in on themselves Black Grape was a duo with himself and British rapper Kermit performing cutting edge dance music infused with Britpop and acid house stylings. Lyrics that were often written freestyle in the studio and taking a tongue in cheek look at their drug use and career lows, this was an album that didn’t even have a British company backing them due to their reputations at the time, an album that everyone expected to fail and then took them back to the top of the charts the moment it was released. There is very little I can say about this album, it’s the perfect party record, manic, full of energy and is in the humble writers opinion the type of music people should still be sweating on the dance floor in clubs. Put it on at any boring party and it will be lively in no time.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">7. Oingo Boingo-Dark At The End Of The Tunnel<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Release date: 1990<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Genre: alternative rock/new wave<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Fronted by Danny Elfman who is now known as a film composer, primarily for Tim Burton, Oingo Boingo burst on to the scene in the 70s as an avante garde musical theatre troupe playing… Anything they felt like at the time, before trimming down its 20-strong member list and switching gears to performing manic new wave music with heavy political and socially conscious lyrics as well as singing about how great it is to die and other equally cheerful lyrics all sang with such gusto and enthusiasm by Elfman who is such an amazing singer with great range its sad that he barely ever sings at all anymore. Who doesn’t melt when they watch Nightmare Before Christmas and hear Jack sing? Over their career Elfman’s lofty ambitions were becoming apparent as the music became more subdued and orchestral, the horns were fazed out and Elfman started singing in a lower register addressing much more personal themes such as his divorce and this album contains a beautiful, haunting song about suicide “Out of Control” that I challenge anyone who has been low not to tear up at it. Its not totally recognizable as the group that brought you “Dead Mans Party” or the theme to Weird Science but all great bands change over time and whenever I am low or feel I’m the only one awake at 3am I stick this on.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">6. Joydrop-Metasexual<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Release date: 1999<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Genre: post grunge/rock<o:p></o:p></span></div><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Sadly breaking up after making only two albums Joydrop were a band that has been all but forgotten except for known as “ the band that made that Beautiful song that plays over the end credits of Ginger Snaps” <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>a sad fate considering those two albums are perfect slices of post-grunge, angsty, achingly melodic and sometimes quite beautiful music. Fronted by Tara Strong who made a fairly decent solo album after Joydrop broke up, her voice isn’t the strongest in rock but it is more than capable for what is required here and she veers away from the trappings of most female rock singers by keeping her voice in lower registers and not shrieking like a banshee when proclaiming to be sad and hopeless *I’m looking at you female fronted metal bands* Most people even at its time of release brought this purely for “Beautiful” but its not even my favourite song on the album, with such cuts as “Over and Under” a hard rock track that shows off how competent the band were at playing their instruments without slipping in to pretend metal mode and makes feel great sadness that they didn’t make a third album as they would probably have done some fantastic blues infused rock music *I.E. LA Woman era Doors* or the psychedelic tinged “Strawberry Marigold* a beautiful ode to a relationship with heartbreaking lyrics. I recently got a friend of mine in to Joydrop a few days ago and when looking on YouTube for more songs to recommend to her by them was in disbelief that so few of their songs are even there. For a band with a small back catalogue that is to me a crime. Their Wikipedia page is bare and their albums for those of us outside of America are hard to come by but for anyone who does they will find a brilliant rock band. Nothing more, nothing less just damn good rock music with superb and original lyrics. Maybe I love them so much because in my younger teens I discovered this band and was only ever able to find a few songs by them and played them endlessly wondering if their albums were just as good, it was only last year that my parents surprised me with both of them, it was such a wonderful, happy moment for me to say I at long last own Joydrop’s two albums on CD, I couldn’t even <span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">find them for download on the internet so that Christmas I finally got to find out that yes, they are just as good as the singles. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5580935184107044959.post-53292064723446280842012-01-05T06:30:00.000-08:002012-01-05T06:30:16.125-08:00Better dumb and happy than smart and without any friends<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I know I’m putting up another blog post today but I realized at my GFs that I didn’t put enough before I went to compensate for the time I was gone and I have found that I truly enjoy blogging, the thought that there are people out there reading my words, hopefully enjoying them is just plain bliss to me. And with so much going on in my life at the minute and what has happened to me in my past, well, it helps me to get all of that out. To see everyone commenting on each others blogs, giving each other advice, feels like one big family almost.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Anywhoo, on with todays show! I have spoken here previously about not having the best at school , lets be honest it was Hell for me, but their was one moment in Primary School where if I had made a different choice my life probably would have gone off in a completely different direction. Its something I often think on these days, how with the smallest of events my whole life would so different, I might not even be blogging to you now. I may not have even met H, that to me is pretty frightening, because as much as I may gripe and everything on my plate right now I like my life, and have tremendous hope for my future.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">What happened *or nearly happened* is this; when I was around seven or eight, before the bullying got so bad that I shut down and stopped working my test scores were apparently very high and the teachers were noticing my grammar and vocabulary were higher than what is normal for someone my age so they called in some specialists who work with “gifted children” to test me and find out if I reall do have the mutant gene, if so I would be sent off to a special school with some creepy bald guy to “work with me” well sadly it was a little to that but these people came in to the school to make me do some boring tests that I had to do when my friends were outside playing. Seven year old me was not best pleased and thought the guy who was making me do the tests smelled funny.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">So I did some tests and they got my scores back a few days later and they were getting excited because apparently I possessed a genius IQ, which I found odd because all I cared about was Digimon and when would Ash finally get to the Pokemon League? Anyway they offered me a place at this school for gifted children, which horrified me to tell you the truth, gifted children? To me it sounded like some insufferable bunch of posh kids with rich parents who sit around all day telling jokes in Latin and debating who has the most designer clothes. Kids who would eventually grow old and fat and sit around listening to classical music on some decrepit old record player in the halls of a uni filled with even more posh, rich people *oddly enough I now love classical music and want to go to uni :P* their was no way in Hell or Valhalla I was going to one of those places. In my mind I was already different enough without being made to go to some school for nerds, the whole idea seemed awful, why make a child like me stand out even more? I was already wondering what would the kids on my street say or do! I promptly to the horror of everyone involved turned it down and asked them to never mention it again.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I didn’t think that maybe it would be a better environment for me where I may not be bullied as much or the staff might be able to deal with my problems and get them sorted. No, to my young mind it was even worse than anything I had experienced at my school. But what scares me is that for a few moments I was considering it, if I had I would never have had all the experiences that made me who I am today. I never would have gone to the school where I met Mark and met one of the best friends I ever had, despite everything I have gone through making a lifelong friend like him was worth everything bad that happened. I certainly wouldn’t have met my wonderful GF, who through loving me has allowed me to love myself. I may have had, in some ways a better life, but certainly not one as rich and varied as what I went on to have. And that to me is better, a life without a little pain and loss is not one well lived, its barely a life at all if you ask me. If I had taken that offer I wouldn’t be me, I would be someone else looking back asking a completely different set of question, with different hopes and fears wondering what might have happened had I not accepted that schools offer, well I can say now with the upmost sincerity if I hadn’t gone to that school I would have had in many ways a wonderful and full life, I know because I am so happy to have lived such a life.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Now I’m wondering if anyone has had any experiences that they feel if they had gone differently would have had such a dramatic impact on their lives? <o:p></o:p></span></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5580935184107044959.post-43797673163295517982012-01-05T03:21:00.000-08:002012-01-05T03:21:13.768-08:00Consistently failing at life's most simple of tasks<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Please allow me to make a little confession today; common sense is not a virtue that has been so heavily bestowed upon your humble narrator. The everyday skills required to live a trouble free existence do not come so easily to me, and as such the task of travelling across the country to see my dear GF is one that is both daunting and troublesome all at once. <o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">The cost of the ticket is quite steep, well being honest it is vertical, so when I finally get that ticket in my hand I know I should cling on to it for dear life but I am very forgetful and regretfully must admit to having lost it more than once. But last week it seemed as if all of Heaven’s forces were working together to make the act of merely going back home one of the most painfully excruciating tasks possible. Or that I was just more scatty than usual. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But I prefer the flowery way I put it. <o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">So I bought my return ticket and it all seemed wonderful, I was going to see her and it would be lovely, wondrous and everything it always is. Until three days before I am due to return home and she asked me if my ticket, of course I have! Am I the kind of person who would ever lose something as expensive as that? Going to my coat pocket where I know it has been the entirety of my time down there I expect to proudly retrieve it, because I am the new Jessica, the Jessica who does not lose things as important as my return ticket home…… And it isn’t there. Nope, gone, not even a trace of it. And I have no money left over to get home, certainly not the stupid amount for a ticket home. So we turn the house upside down, check her fathers car where it may have fallen out and it isn’t there. So with nothing else to do as without a ticket or money to get one I would be stranded there *not something I would lose sleep over apart from the fact I have to go back to college* I rang my parents. I really did not want to, things are not exactly great between us at the minute but I really had no other choice. Ringing my mother as she is the one I would say I am closest to and not as prone as the others to give me the whole “God” speech every two minutes about my life. Telling her what has happened I can hear my brother and father laughing in the background about my situation and telling me I am stuck there now. My mother too scared to say anything with them there says I have got nothing else to do and must ask my GF for the money or sell some of my stuff. Horrified when I start reading a list of my stuff my mother can sell for me my GF jumps in and offers to lend me the money upset that my family would let me sell my stuff rather than lend me money.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">So the next day we go to the city center and get the money, then head on over to the coach station. Only to find the damn thing shut! Feeling a little despondent, me especially after walking round shops and seeing all the nice things I cannot buy, we move through crowds of shoppers in post-Christmas madness scrambling to get as much in the sales as they can, pretty much all useless stuff they will give to family members next Christmas that they despise. Well it seems in the fray something must have happened because when we get to the bus station my GF asks me to show her the money to make sure its still there and to my horror its gone! Everything else in the pockets of my Victorian frock coat are still there, I mean these are not small pockets I can reach down almost up to my elbows, just the money is gone. <o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">The next day I get more money *that yes I will pay back* from my GF and I head off to town myself to get the ticket. I was sure this time I would get a ticket, everything would go smoothly, it had to as today I checked beforehand that the bus station was open. Unfortunately life cannot resist kicking me down as when I was standing waiting for my bus in to town and lovely and oh so literate man feels the need to lean out of his van window and shout a horribly disgusting transphobic slur at me. Beautiful, just simply beautiful, his argument was so concise and spot on as to why I should throw myself under a bus because of what I am….<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Moving on past that ugly scene I get to the coach station and the woman behind the counter tells me its 60p more than I have on me! Its at that point that most people I feel would break down, cry, and climb the nearest bell tower and start picking people off. But hey, ive got no time for that, I have exams coming up and I am sure you will see me on the news for some similar rampage due to exam stress. My wonderful GF *I mean the fact she puts up with all of this really shows how wonderful she is* tells me she will head in to town to bring me 60 GODDAMN PENCE! While I am waiting a rain storm starts so I’m stood in my lovely designer coat huddled in to a corner trying to stay warm for over 40min and possibly looking like I’m about to run out and steal someone’s kid.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">But thankfully we got the ticket that time and I don’t even want to think of how much I owe my GF and not to mention that when she makes me listen to her music I cannot make one joke for at least the next ten years. Such fun.<o:p></o:p></span></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5580935184107044959.post-10143381589991509072012-01-04T09:20:00.000-08:002012-01-04T09:20:59.422-08:00Welcome back to AndaluciaJust making a quick post to let everyone know that I neither dead nor was I arrested for a string of public nudity charges that advancements in thong DNA analysing have made possible to convict me for. I have returned from seeing my beloved GF her wonderful city who I already miss dearly. After travelling from around eight this morning to mid afternoon I am back in the place where even the denisens of Silent Hill and Twin Peaks would turn up their noses and call us lower class scum and wind the windows up on their cars as they drive through all one mile of my village.<br />
Tomorrow I should have up a few posts that are longer and more substantial than this one but I could not resist typing up something quickly as I have been deprived of my cutey, pink laptop for too long now and the white page on the screen is mocking me for not creating anything.<br />
I thought why not do a New Years post? Everyone else has and it doesn't take much thought which after so long on a coach listening to children scream and people scream at their better half's is not something I am apt to doing right now!<br />
<br />
So what has happened this year? Well, a lot actually, it has been one of the most blissful, wonderful and painful years of my life, whereupon I have grown emotionally and mentally and lost and won many friendships. A few I hope will come back in to my life as I miss them so terribly. I have come out the closet after many painful years in the wilderness, me and my GF celebrated four wonderful years together. Though with my coming out it really felt like the first proper one as we were together as we should be, no lies or mask upon my part and when I received my card and saw the differences in names upon it I burst in to tears, such a cherished moment, I am sure my kids will love screaming at me as I tell them the story over and over again.<br />
<br />
I am currently finishing my A-Levels and have applied to university, I am also looking at flats near my GF and hope to get accepted in to the university where she lives. I am in gender therapy and hope this year to be starting HRT which means that like it or not mine and my families differences must be worked out despite how apprehensive they are at talking about it.<br />
<br />
So yes last year it seems has set up a lot of things for my life that shall hopefully come to fruition this year, it all seems very exciting and full of change and hope for a better life. Such a shame that this year our Lord Cthulhu shall finally awaken from his slumber to kill us all, I was hoping to see what I get for Christmas this year....Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5580935184107044959.post-84922222448218734902011-12-27T13:35:00.000-08:002011-12-27T13:35:37.696-08:00The great and secret show<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Okay this post is all about Lucid Dreaming and my experiences with Sleep Paralysis, I decided to do this after Fang mentioned on his blog is interest in Lucid Dreaming and when he asked me in the comment section of his blog about Sleep Paralysis. Now I was going to ask him about it but thought it would be more interesting and I could explain more with a full length blog post.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I cannot in the space of one blog post explain all about Lucid Dreaming but I will simply say it is the act of entering your dreams fully conscious and being able to control them. Many people, such as your humble narrator, experience them with alarming regularity, then others have great trouble entering a “lucid state” altogether. <o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">The first time it happened to me I was not intending to Lucid Dream at all, in fact I did not even know what was happening at all. I shall share this story with you all know; I awoke in my bedroom, feeling hazy and more than a little disorientated, sitting up I looked around, nothing in my bedroom was out of place whatsoever; my wallpaper still the deep shame of blood red, the stone, lion bust above my bed glaring out around the room as a King casting a judgmental eye over his kingdom. My oil lamps either side of my black, ornate bookcase illuminating the works of the Victorian greats. Getting out of bed I feel like I am walking through syrup, my head still muddy with a rush not unlike passion, like I am falling endlessly through silk sheets. Moving over to my book case I pull out a copy of The Divine Pantomime, flicking through the pages it is filled with half-finished sentences, jumbled words and phrases, nothing at all makes sense to me. Exiting my room I catch a glance at the bronze clock above my door it is set to 5 30am but turning around to look out my black curtains I notice it is broad daylight, my watch too is at a different time, 2 45pm. Outside the room my landing is exactly as it always is, suddenly it all makes sense, I am in a dream, I am literally in my own dreamscape. Wondering of all the possibilities that are in front of me, lifting up my hand I start to imagine white hot fire bursting forth from the palms of my hand and to my amazement it appears just like, I feel positively like Prometheus. With another slight gesture of will I am far away and standing alone in a forest, the early morning sun shining through the canopy of trees. Walking in to the distance I can hear and feel the crunch of twigs beneath my feet, the distance sounds of parrots singing in the tree branches, smiling to myself I feel at such peace, alone my solitude, my life in the real world a distant memory, I can just live in this solitary bliss for an eternity. Sadly shortly afterwards I can feel myself being pulled away back to my cold, grey reality.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">With these experiences and many others I can see why people would strive for Lucid Dreaming, it is a truly intoxicating experience. Well here are my tips and tricks for gaining a lucid state.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">1.</span><span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Stay awake for as long as possible, the more tired you are the better, preferably stay awake until around 2-3am.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">2.</span><span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">When you go to sleep, lie on your back *this is very important* and begin to daydream, keep your mind occupied, try everything you can to stay awake and focus upon this daydream.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">3.</span><span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">The secret to Lucid Dreaming is that you stop at the stage of REM sleep before the final one, a part of your brain is still conscious; this is why you can control the dream, because you are conscious, you are you in a dreamworld. <o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt 0.5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">4.</span><span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">As you drift off keep the dream in your mind and should see actually be in that dream, but able to control it.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Now on to Sleep Paralysis, no one yet knows exactly what causes Sleep Paralysis or even really what it is exactly. But what happens to me is this; I awake, usually in the middle of the night, and can feel my entire body slowly becoming paralyzed, as if someone is filling my veins with ice, I feel cold all over, my body completely immoveable and often stinging with a burning, white hot pain. Sometimes my eyes are open and I can see the room shrouded in darkness, but sometimes, I see the door opening, a tall, thin, black figure approaches, when he reaches the bed I black out and awake in the morning. If I am conscious long enough I feel a pressing down upon my chest, African’s used to call Sleep Paralysis “the witch riding your back” they used to believe that in the night a witch would come to sit upon your chest and cast curses on your soul. Now because many sufferers have had the same experience of seeing tall, thin creatures during episodes of Sleep Paralysis people often believe that it is actually alien abduction. My brother has suffered with it too and has claimed to see these creatures and more than once says before blacking out he saw a great flash of light filling his room!<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Well if I ramble on much more I may sound crazy LOL so what are your thoughts upon this? I do hope I have helped Fang or at least provided something interest for him to read.<o:p></o:p></span></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5580935184107044959.post-34425125297583686452011-12-27T06:34:00.000-08:002011-12-27T06:34:48.720-08:00Constantinople *a short story piece by me*<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Awakening slowly with fractured images of muddled dreams still lingering in the back of my mind I lay on the cool grass for a few precious minutes, my eyes closed to the world, keeping the wondrous majesties of my Dreamscape alive. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">"I don't want to leave.. Can it not be so that I stay here forever and a day?" Dancing lights of neon colours twirl and prance with boundless abandon behind my eyelids, strikes of purples and gold’s bring light to the darkness as I plead to some unknown force to take me back to my Dreamscape, to my most secret place. My place where I can once more walk in endless grassy fields, sparkling blankets of morning dew protecting nature from the icy touch of a winter’s sun. And yet the bright light of early dawn creates almost a living symphony of Ice Fairies from the morning dew, I stand still for a moment, watching the Fairies dance above daffodils and prance between rose thorns. The soft voices of my most dearest of friends; Barker and Fawn call to me from beneath the Hollow, the sounds of their voices intermingling through the perfume scented air wakes me from my trance.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">We walk away from the fields, passing beyond the Hollow and in to the woods beyond, leaving behind the calm, tranquil turquoise skies for an altogether cozier, more personal stage. Walking in between rows of trees I turned my head skyward and saw the branches coiled together in a passionate, almost sexual embrace. They appeared as though desperate to interlock with the opposite trees branches, in the dim light that could shine through the canopy they took upon almost malformed human shapes, my raced with images of amorphous, humanoids engaged in acts of passion, the sunlight illuminating their unholy, concubine acts. Down upon the ground our feet make an odd crescendo of crunching noises, over branches and fallen trees we make our way home, to our “motherland” where our ancestors blood is as much a part of the earth as any legacy of some long lost God, some ruins of an ancient civilization sleeping in the dirt between skeletal remains forever frozen in the throes of death, their final moments preserved below for any voyeur with a shovel to unearth. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Along the way we spoke of many things, oh how we could talk on endlessly whenever chance would have it that we were together at once! We brought the world to rights between us, three friends walking a well-trodden path bringing up subjects ranging from the government of our day, trouble within the upper echelons of the church and this new art just beginning to gain prominence that Barker told me was being dubbed “Romantic” quite a name I thought for a style that sounded to my ears devoid of any heart or love and so self-involved with personal tragedy, an “existential crisis on canvas for public viewing” I decried it. Still I shall see how it fares, but of course when the majority of its creators sound like; pompous, rich boys so busy with pretense and image and the majority of critics are no different than I can imagine it will do quite well.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">At noon we had passed beyond the woods and stood upon a cliffs edge looking out over my home, my motherland, my Dreamscape. The City of Constantinople, the city of the living, life teems within every inch of its buildings, corner, markets, libraries and universities. Everywhere you look you shall nothing less than the absolute, purest celebration of the human soul. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I stood perfectly still for a moment, my eyes never wavering from the sight that forever holds pride of place in my heart. Tears started to roll down my cheeks, blood rushed to my head making me appear flushed, I could not no matter how hard I tried contain this emotion within me. This eternal fear that I shall not know whence I can return to my home, when I can walk through her crowded streets, life all around me, people of every race, creed and persuasion singing, filling the air with so many dialects it is positively dizzying. To walk through the market is to see food and wine importing from every country in all the world, you can watch as fearless sailors unload cargo behind stalls, see the venders place foods the likes of which I can imagine the Gods and Goddess’ themselves feast upon at banquets, the air becomes scented with such wondrous smells I could close my eyes and be content to stand there all day. Truly Constantinople is such a perfect place, her embrace around my heart is greater than that of any love, more passionate than any words to be found in a trite poem professing of love, the sight of her temples make me more alive with white heat than the sight of any flesh ever could.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">All of this I did not know when I could possibly see again, I prayed silently to whatever God above commanded the power of dreams. Who was it that held the power to send me to sleep forever and carry me to my paradise, a place thousands of years ago, a place my mortal eyes have never seen, but of what importance is that? This world is real to me, that grey, concrete prison never was my reality, I defied it years ago! Here was where I belonged where I could be truly alive. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“Oh please Lord, please take me back to my precious Constantinople” And with that quiet plea I opened my eyes and found myself laying on my backgarden.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5580935184107044959.post-46350844080408496042011-12-26T16:56:00.000-08:002011-12-26T16:56:00.622-08:00I'm going to a town that has already been burnt down<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I wasn’t terribly old when I came out the closet, I was about 13-14 when I started coming out to people, as a side note I am not sure anyone ever is “out” in the complete sense. How can anyone be? Growing up every time I met someone they would assume I was straight, we would be getting to know each other and they would ask me some variation upon “so I bet you chase the girls around don’t you?” these days my girlfriend is constantly asked who her boyfriend is, no one ever says “so do you have a boyfriend or a girlfriend?” The point I am trying to make is this; no one will ever be completely out as every time you meet someone your sexuality will come up at some point, even if it isn’t an issue for them it will still come up when you discuss your relationship.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">But what about when someone has not come out by their middle age? It was a month or two before I went to college that I had the deep misfortune of meeting someone who was evidently in the closet late in his life. Now I believe that everyone should come out of the closet, the more of his out and proud the better as far as I am concerned but I respect that not everyone has the circumstances where they feel comfortable or even safe coming out. But when you are in the closet one thing you should never ever do is attack those who are out and trying to make life work for them, sadly this man, let’s call him; <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Padre” was my officer after I left the farm I worked at and was tasked with helping me find the course that was right for me. <o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">When I left school they signed me on to a separate who handles young people in “alternative education” until they are sixteen, so in that sense it is not unlike school, and since I was roughly 15 when I left the farm they were still in control of me for a short time. Unfortunately in that short time they had to put me on a course and obviously I would still be on that course when out of their care, their actions would have consequences for far longer than I be their ward.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Naturally I was nervous as to what their decision would be, yes I could protest it but ultimately they could stick me on a course and have done with me. My nervousness was not helped when I met my officer, camp as absolutely anything, the man minced when he walked, now I am not one to stereotype but straight men this effeminate typically understand how they come across and are not homophobic. However he winced as if in pain when he saw me dressed in women’s clothing, right away I knew two things; in the closet and directing homophobia towards others so no one suspects him. I actually noticed my old tutor laugh out the corner of my eye when he tried to hit on a woman….<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">When I first met Padre, we spoke about why I left the farm and I told him about my difficulties with the younger students mocking me and how I wanted to move on to higher education. He simply told me to dress as a man and don’t I think I look a little bit “weird” wanting to get away from this slimeball as quickly as possible and he said he could not get me in to college before I was 16 but I had to go on to a course now, a year long course that would finish halfway through a college’s academic year, so when it finished I would be doing nothing for over five months until I could apply for college. Not really a thought that made him happy. <o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I argued with him that surely he could just leave me for a month to apply for college or whatever but he kept saying no, no and I had to do something he put me on. Such as an animal care course. Well actually an animal care course with math’s and English, at a primary level, that’s right I was being made to do maths and English at the level of 12yos.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I was placed in a classroom with people my own age, and some older, who could not even read or write their own name! Don’t get me wrong I’m not being big headed or attacking anyone with dyslexia *my GF suffers with it and its not laughing matter* but I shouldn’t have been there and could not understand why he made this decision. When I quizzed him about it all he said was “well you missed so much school, you are only qualified for this level” *later on I spoke to my college tutor about this and he told me he should have been fired and I could have gone to college at 15 despite my qualifications*<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">That was not the happiest time of my life, the people I was with were not suffering from any dyslexia or mental illness, they were simply chavs or shall I say “jocks” for any American’s who either didn’t care or had smoked their brains dead. All I could do was adopt a persona, tried to act as hard and crazy as possible so they would not attack me outside lesson. First day I was there some meathead tried to insult me for wearing a skirt and I think my response was “unless you want a kicking from a girl I suggest you back off before I show you how a high heel shoe can be a sex aid.” Now that may sound stupid when read but when you are a six foot-oh my God inches meatbrain with bigger biceps than my head and have that screamed at you by a “boy” in girls clothes who is half your size and size zero skinny the very fact that they dare to do this is gonna make them seem crazy enough you don’t wanna tangle with them. Plus I learned later on his friend fancied me……. Ewww.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I can’t remember how long I lasted in that place but I looked up college application dates one day, found out I had a week or so to apply and went to see Padre.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“I’m leaving the course”<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">*crosses legs, places hands on knees and looks down at me* “oh and why is this? You can’t just leave the course”<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“Well I am, you know as well as I do that I shouldn’t be here, half these people can’t spell their own names and want to play football with my head and the other half are trying to sleep with me! I am sorry but I’m leaving here, you can say what you want about it but at the end of the day you can’t do anything to stop me”<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“Well I never, I’ve tried to help you and then you do this, if you leave her I don’t get paid as much, I only get paid by how many I help” *he seriously said this… When he started talking I actually felt bad for him and wondering if I was being overly harsh or something, but he sounded like some sleazy salesman who worked on commission.*<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“So you only want to keep me here because you get paid? How can you do something like that? All this time I didn’t’ really have to come here you just didn’t want to lose your paycheck”<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">With that I stormed off, behind me I heard him mutter something nasty, something directed at my gender. The next day I sent my application off to college, a course that was at the right level for me. The reason this memory sticks so vividly in my mind is that I can’t understand how he could treat me this way, he was clearly struggling to accept himself but why lash out at those who do accept themselves, because at the end of the day gay, straight, BI, trans whatever we all find life difficult sometimes, especially when humans are such a mess from the word go, nothing in our minds fits the right way, we are all trying to accept ourselves in a society that promotes anything but acceptance so why make it harder for those who are born out of a mold and just want to be treated the same? <o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Maybe you can tell me your thoughts on this in the comments section below, perhaps I am a little innocent minded but it was quite distressing that someone could be so cold.<o:p></o:p></span></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5580935184107044959.post-36349253304749102422011-12-26T09:48:00.000-08:002011-12-26T09:48:35.091-08:00It is not, a skateboarding logo.......<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/jhAddLnnh9s?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div><br />
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As I said earlier, well a few posts ago, I am going to stay with my wonderful GF tomorrow and will not be able to get on the internet to update this blog so I am just putting a multitude of updates today and since I have made a few posts about my love of music so thought I would share a song :) that and writing all these posts in one day is tiring, especially since I am hungover :P and I always enjoyed Mark's posts where he would share songs.<br />
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Anyway this HIM a band I have loved for many years and seen them live more than once and they are always amazing live. In fact their song "One Last Time" from Razorblade Romance or an extra track on the special edition of that album if you live in the UK for reasons I cannot fathom, is the first song I ever sent my GF. <br />
This song is one of my favourite tracks from my favourite of theirs; Dark Light. Hope you all enjoy it.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5580935184107044959.post-89591755939650513962011-12-26T07:56:00.000-08:002011-12-26T07:56:13.042-08:00Don't start a band, nobody wants to hear, no one understands, DON'T START A BAND!<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Ahhh one of the best things about being a teenager is joining a band, isn’t it great? Getting together with your friends in some bedroom or an old garage and plugging in those instruments, torturing some classic rock song <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>and all of a sudden you are Tim Wheeler or Billy Idol playing to thousands of fans at some outside rock festival. And the next thing you know the neighbors are banging on the walls, but that doesn’t matter, you and your friends are on your way to rock superstardom and nothing will stop you, in fact, one part of a being a rock God (or Goddess in my case) is annoying the uncool masses so the fact you annoyed the neighbors is a sign you are on your way to the Rock N’ Roll Hall of Fame :D<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Being an alternative teen like I was I was of course in a band, several actually but we will get to that soon enough, for years music has dominated my life and all I have ever wanted to do apart from be a writer is to get up on stage night after night and sing my heart out, maybe even give some young kid the same hope my musical heroes have given me. And if some magazine asks me to do a photo-shoot or offer me an award for best debut album well then so be it, the things we have to do for our fans eh? I would gladly suffer the pain of fame and fortune for my art.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Me and Mark both shared the desire to be in a band and so decided to start a band ourselves, I can’t remember what our first band was called, I doubt it was the most intellectual sounding of names and to be honest we never really practiced at all, all we really did was listen to albums from our favorite bands and talk about what we would do differently and how we always be there for our fans and not ignore them and talk of our own personal problems to show that you can escape a situation like we were in. Sure nothing ever really came of those days but they are some of my fondest memories, even if we did sound like we were throwing a guitar down the stairs with me screeching some God-awful catterwail like shrieks, because we were young and had so much time to dream and we were convinced we were going to be music legends. In our youth it seemed so real, like we were really going to make it to the big time, I often miss that feeling that anything is possible.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">These days we are still in a band though we are a little more serious about it, Oceans of Sun we are called with lyrics based around video games and our most beloved sci-fi shows and films. I am the lead singer guitarist and Mark handles the keyboards and synths and programes drum loops. We both handle songwriting duties but often I will come up with a concept, present it to Mark and we then bash it out in an extended jam session. Very rarely do we sit down and write a fully formed song or even a partially formed one, we just start out with a bare bones idea and try to flesh it out, which does work pretty well when try to write some kind of early-Alice Cooper Band type psychedelic song. You get a cookie if you know the kind of song I’m referring to here *cough* Unfinished Sweet *cough* <o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I don’t know how good we are but that’s not the point really, we will probably never get to be famous or even put an album out. When we get together and start playing songs we have wrote ourselves, and get to talking about plans for albums, how we will handle interviews etc It feels like I’m 14 again and with the rest of my life ahead of me to make my dreams a reality and when I’m singing my heart out in front of that mic hearing Mark play the keyboard I can’t help but revert back to that young teen and smile that there will always be a part of me that won’t grow up. A part of my life that won’t change, despite everything else that’s going on in my life, the chaos of my transition I can go to Mark’s house with my guitar and a few beers then just spend an evening with my best friend and act like a young kid again. Also it is really fun to listen to tapes of a jam session you made with a friend while completely blitzed.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Of course not all of our musical endeavors have been so overly serious nature I can remember one time we made a fictional band up, complete with band history and fake names for us; UterThrust we were called and we played what can only be described as “black metal-psychadelic rock-heavy-punk rock” but even worse than the image that conjurs up, believe me we were so desperately trying to be the worst band possible and we made a few profiles on random websites claiming we had been around for years and were some kind of underground sensation thinking people would get the joke. <o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Especially considering I called myself “Anthony Shagnasty” and that we were working on our new album “Total Fucking Goat Vol 4” we did put out a few songs on the net, that were basically just 5 minutes of me screeching about Lord of the Rings, unnecessary surgery and pointless amputation.. <o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Sadly not everyone shares our sense of humour, and we actually people sending me messages asking for our albums and where they can see us live…. What I think is this; before copious amounts of alcohol were consumed I did have something of a point to all of this. If we paraded ourselves around like we were underground musicians and had been around for years but no one had heard of us could we convince people who like to know of the most obscure bands to tell people they love us and had been our fans all along? It was sort of like a social experiment, the worst kind of pop psychiatry I know but it interested me. Not wanting to believe that anyone could actually enjoy the type of music we made I think I was proved right and people will do anything they can to appear cool and in the know.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">What do you think? Are their people so conformist out there they will pretend to like a band named “UterThrust”? Oh and what parts of your childhood do you fondly remember and still every now and again try to recreate?<o:p></o:p></span></div><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span></span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5580935184107044959.post-63759325596477787262011-12-26T06:50:00.001-08:002011-12-26T06:50:53.000-08:00Those damn Christmas songs just won't stop!!! -_-<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">As much as I had hoped to get this done yesterday Christmas for my family is a rather hectic affair so I had very little time to get this post finished then. <o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">But better late than never, Merry Christmas to all my little minions out in the bloggersphere, hopefully this time next year I will be speaking to minions all over the world, minions who proudly wear my badge and spread my messages far and wide. I see no reason for this to not be true so am working on some kind of mind control device for you to induct your family and friends in to our little family.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Anyhoo future plans for world domination aside I hope you all had a lovely Christmas and spent it with those that you love and cherish. Especially since when I rule the world I shall eliminate Christmas and replace it with a more fitting tribute to me :D<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">My little self I went with my family to my Uncles as we do every year and had our yearly Christmas meal. It was lovely since sadly we do not get to see the extended family as often as I would like, and me and cousin have been best friends since we were little but you know how life takes you in different directions and you gravitate towards different friendship circles. So Christmas is the one time of year I know for certain I will see her and not speak through text. It is always nicey but when you are with people you haven’t seen in so long and are celebrating such a family orientated holiday I get a little sad thinking how different our lives have become and that it will probably be another year until we are all in the same room again feeling so happy *sighs*<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Once we left I finally got a chance to open my new “Frasier” boxset *one of my most favvy shows* and got on my bed, opened a bottle of my Dads absolutely evil homebrew lager, vodka, whiskey *trust me its hard to tell* and settled in bed with my teddies to watch one of the best, and most well written sit-coms ever. It was a lovely night and while I was watching I was texting Mark who I don’t think has yet to be touched by the genius of Frasier </span><span style="font-family: Wingdings; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-char-type: symbol; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;"><span style="mso-char-type: symbol; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;">J</span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> <o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">It was all in all a lovely day, and the family for once was very happy and getting along which in my family is a rare thing indeed. I guess no matter what your views on Christmas are something about the lights, the tacky movies on TV and the songs just get to you and you can’t help but feel all nicey inside.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Sooooo how did you spend your Christmas and once again I do wish this could have gone up yesterday but then again I doubt many people would have been on yesterday anyways.<o:p></o:p></span></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5580935184107044959.post-50011671804748465932011-12-25T18:09:00.000-08:002011-12-25T18:09:07.826-08:00I can assure you; I have not been to Oxford Town<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I know this blog so far has been about my life and my experiences, particularly in my early teens, but today I would like to share the story of how the music of one David Bowie came in to my life. You see since the first moments I had heard but a few chords of "The Man Who Sold The World" when I surfing the internet late one night it completely changed my perspective on music and art. I was 15yo and around this time I was deeply in to "noise rock" the early music of Sonic Youth *basically anything before Daydream Nation and the early EPs and albums of White Zombie *before they became essentially Rob Zombie's backing band* were what turned me on, my philosophy was if it had a discernible tune, melody or seemed to be anything other than an extended jam session with absolutely no focus in mind I hated it and was terribly pretentious to anyone who didn't agree with my opinion. I am not proud now to admit this but this is how I was, for whatever reason, I was an elitist music snob. A very pretty one :P but a snob nonetheless. I suppose I was young and immature, I was a follower of a few alternative bands, not that either of those two bands these days are particularly obscure but back then and in my area they were unheard of. And to someone like me being so unpopular and awkward it gave me some sense of identity, something to cling to that made me feel proud, and I ran with it.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I suppose this post does fit neatly in to the timeline of my life I am attempting to the best of my fleeting abilities as shortly after I left the farm was when my therapy sessions were becoming more frequent and me and my therapist had gotten quite close and he was interested in discussing music with me. To make it easier as he may come up a lot I will call him "The Prof" *epic Back To The Future reference right thar* One day when talking about my gender problems he asked me if I had ever heard of David Bowie, as much as it pained me back then to admit to gaps in my music knowledge I respected him too much to get uppity and confessed I had no idea as to who he was. <o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">He went on to explain he was a rock singer who started in the 1960s but got his big break during the "Glam Rock" explosion that happened in the early 1970s. Right off the bat this did not impress me, any mention of 70s rock and my mind crawled with images of Led Zeppelin and The Who *two bands that despite my best efforts I have never been able to get in to, I respect what they have done but it just doesn't turn me on* we ended up talking for most of the session about Bowie and I was enraptured. He explained how he dressed as flamboyantly as possible, pranced around on stage under the guise of "Ziggy Stardust" singing songs with homosexual themes and defied gender conventions by looking as beautiful as he wanted to. To a young, transgender girl like myself this was amazing! :D I had to get home as quickly as possible and listen to this amazing man. The way The Prof explained him to me made him seem like Bowie was singing to people like me, Hell back then even I had only just learned that their was a word for people like me, ah Hell I had only just learned that more people like me existed. I had visions of being the last of my kind, walking across deserted wastelands dressed in a tattered cloak carrying a sword that I managed to salvage from some ancient tomb filled with murals of my dead race. I also like to envision I have some witty, trash talking side-kick, possibly a small, gold hungry Dwarf who joined me in hopes of gold and adventure. *When I say it like that being Trans sounds epic*<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Soooo after that little rambling I did thar I went home and after doing whatever I was up to around that time, I was probably watching Wonderfalls or something *amazing show that only lasted one season sadly, watch it and thank me later* that night I looked up on Bowie and noticed "The Man Who Sold The World" was one of his early singles and being a completest I wanted to hear his earliest possible music. The room instantly filled with distorted, sultry guitar tones followed by this voice, a voice like I had never heard before. Listening to "Noise Rock" all the time vocals were something I had never appreciated all that much, though Thurston Moore is a pretty decent singer IMO, but Bowie's voice resonated with me, it moved something in me. The lyrics were deep and filled with metaphors *and for once I could hear them right off the bat* I closed my eyes and just drifted away to some far off pastoral landscape, a place where you can pass yourself upon the stairs and exchange conversation.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">After that fateful night I devoured every piece of information upon David Bowie I could find, I read about his personal life, learned the details of every single one of his albums. Even before I had heard them all I knew who recorded them, when they were recorded and in some instances the particular drugs Bowie was on when making said album. He spoke to me in a way other musicians had not before, yes he was not Trans and probably these days is very, very much straight but he still defied many conventions on gender and something about a straight man singing a song like "Rebel Rebel" or "Hallo Spaceboy" made him seem all the more cool.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Nowadays I own all of his albums and have heard each of them many, many times over and can probably recite the lyrics to all his songs of by heart but they have never lost any impact whatsoever to me. Even my GF when I met her used to refer to me as "that girl who loves Bowie a bit too much" to her family and friends. Back when I was so socially awkward the only thing I knew everything on and was confident talking about was Bowie so I used to talk about him all the time, I guess I just felt that I couldn't be caught out when discussing him. That he was something comfortable to me, like an old friend, I knew no matter what happened I would always have the music of David Bowie to help me. His discography was so diverse so eclectic that he has a song for every mood possible, every experience you can go through just a quick dip in to his albums and you may just find the answer you are looking for.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">When I had trouble in love I put on Stationtostation and The Thin White Dukes tortured yet cold, icy and distant croon would be a veritable catharsis to me. When I feel alone and isolated from the world Low gives me a few moments in time where I can be alone in my dreamscape, where the world can go away and me and Bowie can be alone, can just live in our pain and isolation.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">That is why I love Bowie, as I write this I am glancing over to my CD rack and his CDs are there waiting for me when I need them most, I must admit I don't listen to his music as much as I used to since my musical tastes have become much more diverse and my CD collection has steadily grown over the years so I try to listen to all my albums and to focus on one band or singer would mean I would never get a chance to listen to all of them. But when I am depressed everyone in my life knows which singer I turn to for advice and musical therapy and that is David Bowie, when you think about it its really quite fortunate, when you see me listening to Bowie you know something is up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5580935184107044959.post-40424351953556364672011-12-24T21:16:00.000-08:002011-12-24T21:16:27.767-08:00Its work, all that matters is work....... Well screw you Andy!<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">First things first I would like to give warm thanks to Mark for whoring me out in his blog yesterday -_- didn't come out right :P and a big hello and hugs to my new followers I will try to update every day or at least other day but since my college course likes to take all my time until I am jittering wreck underneath a pile of criminal law and psychology books *a very cute jittering wreck mind you* I cannot promise that or how long some posts will be as I also have to commute over a hundred miles away to see my GF and don't have great internet access over<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>-_-<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Anyhoo now that’s out the way I'm not terribly certain how long this post will be as it is 4:39am as I write this and I have a bit of ground to cover with this topic and now idea where and how my mind will jump with this one. You see due to my life being for want of a better phrase absolutely-mind numbingly-dear lord no daddy no-awful and a few other things my memory on some events is a little hazy not very consistent so please excuse me dearest readers if I contradict myself at times.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Now when I last left off your humble narrator and heroine had met Mark, left school and I mentioned briefly working on a farm, well that is what I shall discuss today, just a few stories from my time there. I am not going to lie, I am girly, like uber, maddeningly girly. Seriously physical activities to me are going for a spa day and I only ever run during a sale at my favvy shops so you can imagine my horror when I was told that because I was no longer attending school properly I was being sent to work on a FARM!! <o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Oh and in case you are wondering why they didn't home school me your guess is as good as mine. I went up to get work a few times and all they gave me was a copy of "Of Mice and Men" *great book BTW really enjoyed it* and that’s it, so I read it and waited for course work and got none..... I think my class that year was studying Animal Farm *another great book*<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">So anyways I was around 14 and sent to a farm. It wasn't that big really because at the time it was still being built and put together, they planned on making it a farm open to the public and few people worked there, mostly due to the fact half the laborers were either volunteers, college students studying animal care and of course, people who got kicked out of school. I soon learned my school had told them that I had been kicked out and was sent there because I was unable to work properly in a classroom. You can imagine the shock on the farmers face when expecting some kind of tough guy prone to violence *they claimed I was* and instead they were greeted with a very long haired, very skinny 14yo boy dressed in a black suit, neatly manicured painted nails, high heels on and smelling of perfume..... You know I looked fierce :P I got asked a lot just why I was there. <o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Sooooo for the first few months I was put to work cleaning out the pigs, chickens etc Yeah I learned quickly pigs eat anything, like including people! My first day there a pig literally chewed through my spade as I was cleaning out his pen O_O then tried to bite my leg, excuse what I said earlier another time I run is when a walking machine of death comes at me, I swear I saw it breathe fire and heard it speak in Backwards Latin before it came at me. I actually cleared the metal gate only to be greeted by my boss who didn't get why I was so scared, he obviously missed the whole talking Latin, fire breathing bit, but I knew what it really was... Sometimes I night I open my curtains and I can see it, its out there, waiting, DEAR GOD WHY IS IT WAITING!!! <o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">It did take a long time to get them to believe I could handle heavier workloads and bigger responsibilities. In retrospect I can kinda see why they thought I couldn't, especially with the fact I got scared having to feed the dead baby chicks to the birds of prey, but come on! Who wouldn't find that nasty and gross and more than a little bit sad? But eventually they did and I started to enjoy myself a little bit, I look back quite fondly on my time there as after I left school I was a wreck and would have liked nothing more than to spend all day in bed but it got me out and showed me not everyone hates transgender people. It was such a nice surprise, there I was with pretty damn masculine, old fashioned farmers and not one of them batted an eyelid at me, they just didn't care, I could act as girly as I wanted to and dress however I liked and they just accepted me. I enjoyed going there just for the acceptance :) looking back now I learned something important myself, not to judge people, yes I do want people to look at me and see a woman, to not view us as freaks but why do I deserve that if I myself look at all straight people as judgmental or see a certain kind of person and expect them to be ignorant? It’s wrong, just as wrong as people colouring me a certain way and the warmth I was showed there opened my eyes to the fact I was giving people double standards.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Me opening up definitely helped my work and my ability to work in a team. I can remember one week my boss specifically asked for me to work with him building the fence around the entire compound! And the bird Avery that sits rather prettily in the middle of it all me and these two other women built it pretty much from scratch and put it up. As a side note my GFs still doesn't believe I am actually so good at DIY and other thingies :P its always a shock whenever I help him do something like that hehe.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Sadly I was only there for a few years because as much as I loved the atmosphere it really wasn't for me. I believe that certain things come along when we need them but are never intended to stay with us for very long, it built my confidence up and I learned some pretty good DIY skills and I learned a valuable life lesson to boot. Not bad for two years don't ya think? But I knew that I wasn't a physical girl and I should get outta there and go to college, so that’s what I did!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I did for a short time do a bit of an animal carer course since I get really good at the work but it came so naturally to me I never felt challenged and that’s no, above all else I get bored if I am not being challenged and made to work to the best of my abilities. Also as the farm got bigger and bigger and more people started working there a lot of kids who had been kicked out of school were sent there and the atmosphere became less friendly and the close knit group we had going on was wrecked. Sad really. To see a bunch of kids disrespecting a really nice place we worked hard to build, but we couldn't do anything since the farm was getting money for these brats and we didn't have the power to give em the boot. The worst thing is that towards the end of my time there I was classed as a "senior worker" and had to train up these kids, they didn't take too kindly to be told what to do by a "guy" in women’s clothing who was only a few years older than they were........ But we don't need to go in to that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">So yeah just a bit from my time as a good old fashioned farmer :D not all the memories from that time are good but every now and then I do look back and feel a bit misty eyed, I made some nice friends there and really grew up as a person. But sadly around that time I lost touch with Mark, we tried our best to keep in contact with each other but he was going through his own rubbish and while I was maturing and getting somewhere, slowly but surely, my mental state was deteriorating quite rapidly and some pretty damn dark times were ahead on the horizon. It wasn't as easy as I thought for me to get in to college but that’s for another time I think :) <o:p></o:p></span></div><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">PS: Since my schedule is a little odd most of the time and I'm going to be staying with my GF in a few days I will try my hardest to write a bunch of posts and put them over the next few days so expect a fair amount of posts coming up :P and read em all at once if you can't get enough of my awesomness or like, you know, don't....... And pretend they are being put up once a day... I'm kinda tired and rambling....</span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5580935184107044959.post-3042481266947491862011-12-23T20:15:00.001-08:002011-12-23T20:15:53.943-08:00How the real fellowship got started!<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Since I am on Christmas break from college which basically means I am sitting around doing very little apart from trying not end up like a popsicle I have very little to write about what with this blog being about my life. So I thought I would write about my teens and how I ended up going from a rosy cheeked, starry eyed child in to a jaded 22yr old with an unhealthy love of Darren Hayes *he is amazing!* and a collection of stuffed I try to send out in to the night to do my bidding :P<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">In my last post I spoke a little about how things were going for me at home during my early teens, in a nut shell they were not going terribly in my favor. Well school was something else entirely.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">To describe my school it looked like the Bastille….. If it was constantly shrouded in darkness, during a heavy storm, the clanking of chains and children’s emanating from it night and day while some mad baron sits atop a throne of skulls, playing with his curly moustache and flicking pennies at poor people. I didn’t have a good time at school.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">My school days were mostly spent trying to avoid PE as much as humanly possible as not only was being called a boy humiliating enough most sports we were taught appeared to be nothing more than a simple game of “Cause Jessica As Much Bodily Harm As Possible” all the while spouting homophobic insults at me…<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Apparently they are working on making this an Olympic sport. When that wasn’t happening I sat to the back of the room, of course being awesome, but just keeping my head down and listening to music on my headphones. Needless to say the constant fear of being jumped mean’t I didn’t pay much attention to my work, not that the staff understood how I was getting A* grades constantly….<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">However despite all this one day, lets say in summer because it sounds much nicer, I met a guy who I didn’t know was gonna be the best friend I ever made </span><span style="font-family: Wingdings; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-char-type: symbol; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;"><span style="mso-char-type: symbol; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;">J</span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> <o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">It was in textiles class which to me was simply a chance for me to catch up on what the backs of my eye lids looked like since no one ever asked me to do anything in that class as it only resulted in them wasting materials. Sucked at it then and I suck at it now.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Well that day most people were not working since they all knew a new kid was joining our class, it was such a small school in a small area that this was reason enough for people to be excited. The teacher up front was rubbing her palms together at the thought of another slave to toil in the mines.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Boy was she wrong, suddenly the slow, funkeh jams of Prince’s song “When Doves Cry” filled the air and with an almighty crash a demi God pimp walked in to the room, his long, fur coat being carried by two half naked babes behind him. Walking up to the front of the class he merely tipped his hat and made note of all the girls in the class he planned on adding to his harem, I remember thinking how anyone can pimp walk on 2 foot platform shoes and how the goldfish stay alive, must be the magic of his funk I thought.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Anyways he sat down, clicked his fingers and his ladies poured him a glass of coke in his gold, crunk cup *cool kids don’t drink underage says Aunty Jessica* taking a sip with one hand while weightlifting with a dumb bell the size of an Elephants doodle in the other the girls, and a few guys, stared in a awe at his 12 pac O_O <o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Actually what really happened was Mark walked in the room, sat down and a few of the popular kids sat talking to him and I thought he was a git…. You see that sounds harsh but I was sat at the back of the class and couldn’t hear what was said, also a few days before I had been walking home when a group of older cornered me and beat me up pretty badly because they thought I was gay. Now for any child being beaten up is a horrific ordeal and I do not want to make out my past is worse than anyone elses but as I blocked their punches and kicks with my face, a brilliant idea, one of my best actually, knowing I was a girl and being nervous around boys as it was due to my dad, yeah it was frightening. So anyone so seemingly accepted by the popular guys was to me, a git and part of the problem. Hey kids are very clickey you know :P<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">In actual fact Mark was having a pretty bad day himself.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But I think he wrote about that on his blog and Jessica be all about the OC.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Now during that lesson we had to thread a sowing machine and then stitch some denim together, me I moved over to my sowing machine, got out some vintage copies of some game magizines and started reading on Final Fantasy VII and how it looked to be a pretty cool game and the pre-release was getting to fever pitch. Then for reasons I cannot possibly fathom Mark told our tutor that he was pretty damn adept at sowing and threading machines so she told him to show me how to do it. Well, he tried and did about as well as Uwe Boll does at making films…. Then, gave up, yeah he always was this motivated. <o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">After that he passed a few comments on my magazines and asked if he could look through one, being impressed by people with as much motivation towards textiles as myself I gave him one and we got talking about games. Sadly it quickly became apparent he was doing about as well in the popularity stakes as I was, or fortunately since we become awesome friends </span><span style="font-family: Wingdings; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-char-type: symbol; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;"><span style="mso-char-type: symbol; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;">J</span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> I proceded to give him a git by git tour of our year and who its best he stays away from and who will more than likely call him gay since they are closeted *I wasn’t wrong according to some other friends, one who was at one of theirs weddings* and the rest is I guess nerd history.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I wish I could say having a friend made school easier for me but it didn’t, problems at home and at school meant I quite quickly had a breakdown and towards the end of year 8 Mark was having a fair bit of time off himself and I was getting jumped the majority of the time. Seriously even the nerds were more popular than us O_O but at least I had someone to listen to tunes with, I was telling my GF last week actually how due to our dress sense and attitude everyone thought we were hardcore goths and used to make fun of us for listening depressing music in class when a lot of the time we were listening to Savage Garden and Meat Loaf :P It was pretty cool, we were unpopular but we rocked it so damn hard :D were unpopular with style. Eventually it all got too much so my mum rang up school and told them I would not returning to school and I had to wait until I was 16 to go to college. So for a few years I worked on a farm, basically as a slave since I wasn’t getting paid, during this time I started defying my parents and wearing girls clothes, trust me cleaning out a pig pen in high heels is HARD! <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And the school sent in to intensive psychotherapy for unusual social withdrawal……. *facepalm* <o:p></o:p></span></div><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">But me and Mark still kept in touch, I used to walk up to the school at dinner time to chill with him and listen to some tunes and whenever I could stayed over at house. Watching him play Jedi Knight II was always epic. So yeah, I wish it had gone easier but had I not gone through all that I wouldn’t have met such an awesome friend as Mark, and the world would be robbed of one epic Meat Loaf tribute band in the form of Malt Loaf :D and as soon as I figure if me being in a lesbian marriage means I have a best man, maid of honour or something else entirely I will ask Mark to do that…. I don’t know I will probably make up a position for him to have :P something which means he has to beatbox me a speech :)</span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3