"Everything is candy. One big dish of candy bars. Next galaxy is 100 Grand. Delish."
"Everything is candy. One big dish of candy bars. Next galaxy is 100 Grand. Delish."
Tri took the train to Tarth to tutor the tutees, two times. They took the training terrifically then told Tee to take them to the temple to talk to Trinity the Tall. There, they talked 'til Twyla touched two taboo tablets, thereby toppling the temple.
- 'Tis terminated
Soooooooo. I threatened to off our new PHOOLTUS (Pumpkin-Head Of Our Lost & Torn United States) and now I'm headed to exile in France.
If you want to call it "exile", that is. I've always wanted to go to Paris. Granted, I didn't want to be under House Arrest or whatever they call it there, but still... From what I understand, I'll be placed in a "home" and will be under government supervision, but I'll still be free within the house. And if I'm good, I'll be free to roam outside of the home in a dozen or so years...I guess that's their idea of getting off for good behavior.
I just wish I could have brought Gem with me. She's the greatest kitten ever and I'll miss her so much. You'll take care of her for me, won't you? I hope you don't mind me pawning my feline off on you like this, but I didn't have anyone else that I could depend on...I mean, yeah, me and Robb were getting to know each other, but it hadn't gotten that serious yet, so...*sigh*...I don't think he'll be writing me.
As for mom and dad and Kyle? You know I was the black sheep in our crew for the last several years, so I don't think they'll be mourning my loss much. Helena was the only one that truly cared, but she's gone, of course...Please stop by her grave and put flowers there every month, like I used to do. I miss my twin so much.
Well, I think we're almost to the place that will be my new home...or what I guess will have to pass for one. I'll write you when I'm able and hope to hear back, as you're my only tie to America, now.
a. A carnivorous mammal (Felis catus) long domesticated as a pet and for catching rats and mice .
b . Any of a family (Felidae) of carnivorous usually solitary and nocturnal mammals (as the domestic cat, lion, tiger, leopard, jaguar, cougar, wildcat, lynx, and cheetah)."
That's it?! Presley licked his taupe nose with his pink tongue, the roughness analogous to his mood. What about 'royalty'? What about 'king of all he surveys' (that was how he got his name, after all!)? What about 'god of the world, humans hear me roar'?!
He started bathing himself, his tongue picking off extra tufts of white fur, to later be belched up in a ball. 'Mammal? MAMMAL'?! I am no mere mammal! I am the he above all else, bow before me! Presley growled to himself, discontent with the severely-lacking "definition" of 'cat' that he'd seen in his human's book. We felines are as good as it gets! We are what all other animals, mammal and otherwise, aspire to be! We, the cats of the world, are the apex of existence! He sniffed haughtily. 'Mammal', indeed!
And with that, the apex of existence tiredly laid down for his afternoon cat nap, the better to dream of catching rats and mice.
Claire Tomlin sat with a gun pressed to her temple. Her life had been one long line of rejection upon rejection, but this latest, this latest she just couldn't handle. It was the final straw that defined her life as one big failure.
She looked again at the latest rejection letter, sitting on the desk.
"Dear Ms. Tomlin,
Thank you for giving us the opportunity to consider your manuscript. We read it with interest, but regret we will not be making an offer of publication.
While your story is well written, blah blah blah...
This was the 16th rejection letter in a month. It was clear her story wasn't going to be the best-seller that she pictured it. It was clear she wasn't going to be the author she dreamed of. It was clear her time to breathe was over.
Pressing the gun harder to her head, such that it would surely leave a dent - a dent? i'm worried about a Goddamn DENT?! - she thought back to the months and months she'd spent crafting her novella. She'd poured blood, sweat, and tears into her work, just for it to be rejected like day-old coffee.
SHE HAD NEGLECTED HER FRIENDS, Goddammit! Her poor dog had barely gotten fed, watered, and walked while she lived her life in her story. And love?! Forget about that! Her love life had gone to shit because she thought it more important to focus on her heroine Lyndora's life, instead! And what did she have to show for it? Rejection letter after rejection letter after rejection letter!
She didn't even need to fully read them, anymore. They were all the same. One of those sandwiches she learned about in school - first a compliment, then the criticism, and finally another compliment. She wanted to barf on those damn reject sandwiches.
With tears pouring down her cheeks, she mentally wrote her last lines -- And with that, Claire Tomlin pulled the trigger, ending her long life of not-good-enough, not-smart-enough, not-talented-enough.
As her head fell to the desk, her eyes fell upon the letter she'd forgotten to read. It looks like an acceptance-
*I couldn't decide on just one, so you're getting three; last time, I did another Proser's poem, but this time I decided to give voice to three of my faves. I hope you enjoy!
(I) MILITARY CADENCE:
Your Left, Your Left, Your Left, Right Left Right Left, Right Left. Your Left...Right Left, Right Left...
I don't know, but I been told
(I don't know, but I been told)
some friends are silver, some are gold;
(some friends are silver, some are gold;)
what's the difference, I don't know,
(what's the difference, I don't know,)
but my best friend is my ammo.
(but my best friend is my ammo.)
Sound off, one-two three-four
Your left, your left, your left right left...
-Invisible. That's me today,
living in this, our world
that worships youth, that lauds
this young boy or this young girl.
-Never mind the wisdom I've gained
cuz I've got cottage cheese thighs;
nobody wants to look at me,
to see what's behind my eyes.
-Experience isn't respected
cuz it hides behind wrinkles and gray;
now, we're considered 'has-beens',
"Yeah, she was something back in the day".
-LOOK AT ME! I AM STILL SOMETHING!
I cry, but nobody lends an ear.
I wonder, will I completely fade
away, will I just disappear?
-Signed, Your Elderly
(III) WE, THE PIANO
-My keyboard, oh my keyboard, in the den.
First with difficulty and then with ease.
did I learn to play, before I was ten,
ebony keys beside ivory keys.
-Why can't we, oh why don't we, do the same,
get along with others unlike ourselves?
Why must we point the finger, lay the blame
at others who really are like ourselves?
-Could we not embrace the variety,
harmonize in diverse nationwide bands
in this, our melting pot society;
make this world a better place, if we can?
-If plain and sharp and flat can harmonize,
why can't we, the human breed, be so wise?
I sat down by the River Styx,
which was more like the River Sticks,
so full of brush and bramble,
I could just barely amble
to the edge to meet my fate,
in the form of a godly mate.
Alas, my mate was not so godly
- but he was a hottie -
for he bade me undress right there,
stripping down 'til I was bare,
to make love by the riverside,
the river by which he'd died.
Our bodies spent, we separated,
so I could return to a life I hated,
a life that was minus my love,
since he'd passed on the wings of a dove.
No! My love would not be denied,
so into the River Styx, I dived.
Now back as one are my love and I,
never again to say goodbye.
Hurt an ANIMAL? Are you furrin' kidding me?! What the fur, man?! That is NOT acceptable!
One thing I absolutely cannot stand is when people mistreat and abuse their pets, be they cats, dogs, birds, or iguanas! Every desh time I see a post on the book of faces about a pet that was rescued from an evil brekshner of an owner, I wanna climb through my desh computer and break their furrin' nose! I wanna give the same desh treatment they gave to their helpless pet, or worse!...Chain your pet and starve it? How about we starve your stupid akk and let you furrin' starve?! Beat your pet? I'll gladly take a 2x4 and beat the snot out of your akk! Set Fluffy or Rover on fire? How about I come over and tar and feather your akk until your durk falls off? Break any of your pets bones? I'll be right over to twist your furrin' arms and legs behind your back until every bone if furrin' broke!
And if your poor pet DIED because of your negligence? I'll bring a furrin' CREW over to torture you within an inch of your pathetic life, revive you, then wash-rinse-repeat until you're furrin' BEGGIN' to die!
Furrin' piece of shizafizz! Don't let ME catch you harming an animal!
Everybody wants a piece of the pie,
or is that a piece of the pi?
Math teachers need sweets, too,
or should that be 3.141592?
Slice it any way you want, large or tiny,
depending on your hips and hiney;
everything in moderation,
be it addition or multiplication.
For my part, I'll take blueberry
with a side of addition, ordinary.
Add whipped cream and all is great
or in the case of pi, 65358.
Oi! Now I've got some indigestion;
perhaps it's time for bowel subtraction.
Wallowing in the depths of despair,
I feel like I can't get any air.
I'm sliced apart, my soul laid bare,
the meat of my emotions extra-rare,
bleeding out with anemic sobs,
pain and misery, the hoarding mob
well-versed in the ability to rob
me of joy, for that is their job,
a job they do much too well,
'til I feel like I'm in the bowels of hell,
listening to tolling fiery bells
with their own horror stories to tell.