Bored Book "I Know Everything" (Art Inspires More Art)

Dino

2009-06-25T23:08:00.001-07:00

John Lindsey
Dino

The bright blue dinosaur with yellow potato’s. Long, fat and yellow horns. Light purple eyes, that looked like cats eyes. Faster then the speed of sound he walked like a benut butter tabolet no a nice hot frothy summer day. Found a monder bike on the side of the bike he places and apple. Faster then you could say apple sakes. And places and dog on the bike and a bird that was fat and happy because every thing it the world was going her way. For when the was a young bird the was sad and now the was happy on the side sitting head first on a bike and a shopping card that Mr. Dinorsore found on the side of the bike he put on the bike once again. With toe nails of steel and the color or rotten oat meal the Dino spoke with a thick britsh acsent. “You find some fast, food now or I shall eat you and run over you 10 times on my moter bike and stomp on you 111 with one of my toes and eat you up and spit you on to the gound and put you on the side of my moder bike. Like a shot of fast slick lightning the dinosore, with the fast feet and the big toes and feet, ran fast to eat me where I was standing next to a flower. As I stand as fast as can be I looked at a yellow flower with a big on it, fastly I sit down and look at the big evern faster is it ground. BUT WAIT! The Dino is coming fast and I must do what has to be done to get my self out of the dinos charge. As I sit and watch the dino I see him coming like a runner that is fast like the speed of sound with I need to I will sit and watch him coming. Fast I slap the eye hole of the dino with fast hands like monster mango litter box tag and eat him and rub soap on him for fast acting killing power for lost of times I eat soap. And I dug a hole with a moder bike and every one was feed pizza with Canada bacon on it. For master face had taught me well. I laft and said, “Ha you won’t be faster food now dino.” I said with a smile. A smile that warmed my day. Back at home my eating lost time for, I stand and eat bubble gum gravy. Your man is came am here. He came to the door with wide open smile and smile is mine. I said, “Hey give that back or I’z will kill you!” With pointed finger with finger extended touching me finger on his. Was like brother in facts be know faster the we could blink on a cold winter day. We throw down. My mother said don’t throw down in here young me and we did. But she said not and we flining arms on coutch and faster jumping and shot toes and faster punching and I said, “We need to do what we need to take it out to the back of the yard fast.” And we did, that then we swag around trees that that leaves on them and bit them for releaf to the fast editor that kills storys. I fiouhgt the editor fast and we found commen gound. And so I put in chimmny the editor and so that way they would have up and down but no side to side. And that way it would not be messy gound. For my mother was flowering down there. And so I climbed into my bed and thought fast and made a page of a report. And was tired and so I wrote fast to make it perfect like and perfect report should be perfect. Fast and thinking good I found raw thought works fast and thought funnier for a min longer but not all time. So but I found a place to write a report fast and found that people don’t know what spell check is for the boootten was missing for then I went to bed fast like a mouse in a wall of a house with lead fasests.

The End

Night in the Grass

2009-06-02T00:19:00.001-07:00

We aren’t going to breath or touch. Find a crutch sleep or dream to see all the unseen. We are going to sit and wait with water in hand waiting for the sun to rise on mornings command. Smell the due, no fire is made to people have come none, just me in the dark tell dawn.

So?

2009-02-18T15:50:00.001-08:00

So are you just going to keep holding me back foul age. If it isn't for the childest truth of no ears it is the well rounded walk taken out of step and by peddle motion of old.

I can write well.

2009-02-06T16:18:00.000-08:00

Writing again, writing again. I snuck into an empty classroom to write this note. Starting to put my ideas down the the screen seems harder then I thought with every dismal minnuet fleeting by. Bound to the place to become something better and still I will not know the true consoences of this continuse fate untell I have found myself in that which is it, continuse fate. So in other words I don't know. I do know lots of things however. I know its raining outside. I know that I am in a place right now that I will not be bothered or told to go away but I also know it is a place I am not aloud to be. I know how to confort a friend and I know when to end it. Maybe I don't know when to end things, I've often thought that I end things too soon. That is to say that I end realationships too soon. But then theres always that voice in your head that says, well if you wouldn't have ended it you would have gotten hurt. I know what its like to be hurt. I know what its like to remember something as if it was yesterday, today, tomarow. I live for tomarow, I know how to do that, I know how to take all my sadness and anger hold it deep insid, put it aside and look forwords to something like tomarow. I know how to forget, forget the futcher and lets the past catch up to the nonexistent now. I know how to write. I know how to love. I don't know how to get a job or fill out a form. I don't know how to spell. But I can write. Yes, I can write well.

Falling For You

2009-02-04T16:17:00.000-08:00

He was suave and up standing. Almost seeming to never have a care but still caring all the time. His cast was set deep into his wild hair and cut in its design. This isn't to say he was a skinny man. In the sense of the word when you think of skinny. He was however an attractive man in the odd sense of the term. His name was Nephi and I’ll never forget I found him whistling Dixie at the top of a car port in New Mexico. He was sitting on the edge of the concrete railing swaying back and forth.

Woman:
"Hey, do you need help?"
(Walked over to him)
“Hey.”

Man:
(Swayed so far forward)

Woman:
(Grabs Mans shirt and pulls him back to safety.)

Man:
(Hits the safe ground hard)

Woman:
"Are you crazy?!"

Man:
"It’s about time!"
(Gets up and brushes him self off.)

Woman:
“Are you insane?"

Man:
"I would have never had to do what I did if you would have had half a mind to come sooner. Well not you, maybe someone like you. Some one always has to stop me; tell me I can’t do it. But not this time."
(Back on ledge)

Woman:
"What is that supposed to mean. I am not-"

Man:
"I’ll be asking the questions thank you. First of all, are you real?"

Woman:
“What?”

Man:
“I mean are you a real person? I have to know.”
(Stretches out a hand and tries to touch woman.)

Woman:
“You are being irrational. Stop. Please.”
(Kicks the man between the legs)

Man:
(Falls over)
“Yeah you’re real alright.”

Woman:
(Runs but stops thinks’ about it and feels sorry for the man)

Man:
“Just run away from your humanity. Just leave already.”

Woman:
“No, what are you talking about? I am interested now, you are the one running away.”

Man:
“You know it’s really more of a jump and not a, never mind”
(Stands back up on the edge of the parking garage. And opens his arms like a bird)

Woman:
“You do not have to jump you know.”
(Starts to cry)

Man:
“Are you still there?”
(Arms down looks back)
“What are you doing? Why are you crying for me?”
“Hey you don’t even know me.”
(Goes over to Woman)
“Come on, stop this. There is no need to cry.”

Woman:
(Cries even harder)

Man:
“Hey, hey, why are you crying?”

Woman:
“Because you were going to jump and kill yourself.”

Man:
“Oh no, I wasn’t going to die. I would have… just… it would have been happier.”

Woman:
“You are lying.”

Man:
“Listen; why do you care?”

Woman:
“I do not care about you; I just did not want some one to die in front of me.”
(Cries)

Man:
“Then walk away, I’m going to a better place.”

Woman:
“No.”

Man:
“Why?”

Woman:
“I don’t know-oh-oh-oh.”
(Cries)

Man:
“Hey I’m sorry, ok.”
“Stop”
“Please.”
“I hate it when people cry.”

Woman:
“Can I ask a question?”

Man:
“Really, hey if you want to ask a question just ask it.”

Woman:
“But you said that you where going to be the one asking the-”

Man:
“I did didn’t I. Well think for your self alright. Ask all the questions you want.”

Woman:
“Ok, why do you want to kill yourself?”

Man:
“Hey that’s a little much we would be here all night.”

Woman:
“But you said I could ask a question.”
(Cries)

Man:
“Ok, ok, all I’m saying is we should start out slow. Like you should ask me my name or-”

Woman:
“What is your name?”

Man:
“I really normally don’t tell people my name….”

Woman:
“No, I want to know your name.”

Man:
“If I tell you will you stop crying?”

Woman:
(Nods)

Man:
“My name is Nephi (Ne-fee) please to meet you.”
(Puts hand out to shake. But no response from the Woman other then…)

Woman:
“How do you spell that?”

Man:
“N-E-P-H-I, why does that matter?”

Woman:
“That sounds like Nephi (Neefiye) and not Nepihe (Nepihe) Nepihe would be spelled. N-E-P-I-H-E, not N-E-P-H-I”

Man:
“What does that matter?”

Woman:
“I do not know; I just like spelling things I guess. I am Sara.”
(Giggles, hand out to shake)
“Umm, why where you going to kill yourself?”

Man:
“Oh no, not this again.”

Woman:
“No tell me that is what I would like to know.”

Man:
“No, you are making this really hard. Oh please don’t cry.”

Woman:
(Cries)

Man:
“Hey, hey, if I tell you will you stop crying.”

Woman:
(Looks, nods and wipes eyes, stops crying.)

Man:
“Ok, well I’ve never made it. I’m a failure. Not even good at the things I like to do. Like writing and acting. I could go get a steady job. But that’s not what I want. I’d rather just die.

Woman:
(Gives man a look. Blink’s)

Man:
“You see every one has always told me I couldn’t do it. Even my parents, and I can’t; my spelling and grammar are horrible. I can’t do anything about it. The world doesn’t except me. If I can’t write if I can’t do art to make a living, life isn’t worth living. Don’t you understand?

Woman:
(Blinks and looks)

Man:
“I’ve spent all my money I’m in det. I’ve been partying for 3 weeks strait, if I didn’t want to kill myself then, I would surely want to kill myself now.

Woman:
(Tilts Head)

Man:
“People have killed them selves over stupider things. Wars, bad food, plastic surgery, religion, parking tickets, love, loneliness, bad play writing…”

Woman:
“I get what you are saying. But those are all bad reasons to kill your self. (Beat) Who have you known that has killed them selves over bad playwriting? I mean really, really why do you want to kill yourself?”

Man:
(Man looks up with sadness in his eyes.)
“My lover she was wonderful. I, I miss…She had been in and out of the hospital for 3 years with advance kidney failure. I would bring her my work to look over every time I had something new. She loved it. She was my life line my crutch and I was hers, I thought. When she was sad I would help her. She saw how I was living threw my writing the good and the bad.”

Woman:
“What happened?”

Man:
(Walks back onto the concert railing sits.)
“I should have sheltered her. She wanted me to move on, become something grater then my self, better then I was, almost super human. One day she got sad really deprest and there was nothing I could do. We got in a argument and I left her in the hospital bed crying. I had done it before; some times you just have to… I got that call, she didn’t just die, she could have told me. She did it, signed the papers, she pulled the plug and refused treatment, all with out telling me. I don’t understand it. I have no friends, no family, no one that cares about me, no one-”

Woman:
“I care about you.”

Man:
“You do, but you hardly even know me, why do you care about me?”

Woman:
“I do not know.”

Man:
“You don’t know? Oh, you don’t know. You don’t really care about me do you?

Woman:
“No I care about you.”

Man:
“Right, I’m sure you do. Well then, I’m not going to jump. Never was.”

Woman:
“Really…”

Man:
“Yeah… Yes.”

Woman:
(Hugs Man.)

Man:
(Not embracing hands down in fists holding breath.)

Woman:
“Why, why are you holding you breath?”

Man:
“Force of habit.”

Woman:
“Please Breathe. Before I let you go.”

Man:
“No.”

Woman:
“Yes.”

Man:
(Shakes Head)
(Breathes in)

Woman:
(Lets go)
“Now was that so bad?”

Man:
“No, no it wasn’t.”

Woman:
(Plays with the Man’s collar fixing it.)
“Come sit.”

Man:
(Sits, is very sad, crying.)

Woman:
“First, you did nothing wrong.”

Man:
“I knew it…”
(Stands on the concrete ledge)

Woman:
“My father killed him self.”

(Silence)

Woman:
“My father killed him self when I was 9. He was on the couch and I was in the room with him. He had something to drink in a plastic cup. I remember it was plastic; I crawled up onto his lap and hugged him. I remember his heart was beating like a drum. He started to cry and so we held each other. I asked him why he was crying but I do not remember what he said. I held him until he stopped spasming; until I could not hear his heart any longer. I asked him what was wrong. I made believe that if we held each other just a little longer that he then would start breathing again. We held each other until my mother came in and took me away. I faked sleep so she would not take me away. But she found me there in my father’s arms; and I do not remember anything after that. (Beat) Do you think killing your self will really be what she wants you to do?”

Man:
“Well I-”

Woman:
“If you kill yourself she dies in vain you don’t want that do you?”

Man:
“Well that’s not-”

Woman:
“Let me hear some of your work. I will tell you if it is any good or not, I am an editor after all.”

Man:
“You’re and editor?”

Woman:
“Yes.”

Man:
“Well I have some of my writing right here. I was going to jump with it and…”

Woman:
(Grabs the parchment from the man)

(They share a look.)

Woman:
It was as if in that moment of passion she didn’t exist in my arms any longer. Yes she was there but not fully. And I was alone. Alone once again. But only for a short time longer. Should I still speak? Speak of time, and deeds long since forgotten. Leave the forgotten to the dead. Let them deal pain where pain is due. But the truth, the real fact is, the dead can’t sing. They need us in every single way, in order for them to become forgotten.

And now that I hath done it I can say it. She just stood there alone and I alone with her.
“Is this it?” she asked bare and exposed like a child without a fairytale. Unexpected fear in her eyes. I didn’t answer her. But I did put my hand on her and looked upon her beauty. We left and it was over. In my mind I remember her real. In my mind she is standing before me. In my mind she will never leave me. Standing in my arms embraced, always and forever.

Woman:
“This is...”

Man:
“I wrote it.”

Woman:
“Yes I know you wrote it. But this is horrible. You spelled passion wrong, and embraced is an E not I and...”

Man:
(Looks sad)

Woman:
“It is nothing that can not be worked out.”

Man:
“So you think its ok?”

Woman:
“I think it is better then ok, I think it is great.”

Man:
“Well you sure have an odd way of saying it.”

Woman:
“Sorry. I would love to work with you. If you have more things like this.”

Man:
“I do, lots.”

Woman:
(Giggles)
“I know of this really good coffee shop, over there.” (Points) “Would you like to get a cup of coffee?”

Man:
“I think that would be good right now. What was your name again?”

Woman:
“Sara.”

Man:
“Ok, well Sara should we go?”

Woman:
“We shall.”

(Walks off stage, Woman giggles.)

Little Old Girl

2009-02-04T16:15:00.000-08:00

Little Old Girl
John Lindsey
***

Girl: You are a 28 year old con artist that looks like you are 12 years old. You have seen lots of things, and you really don’t know what to do with yourself at this point. You don’t know if you want to con any more people, this is the struggle and it’s hard to keep the character of a little girl. You need alcohol. Your mind is full of senseless bible information from Catholic School. You just snuck out of a beauty pageant. You’re world is falling apart, you are in self-destruct mode.

(In a bar, 3 tall bar stools, bartender behind the bar. Bartender is cleaning a glass, smoking his cigarette.)

(Little girl comes into the bar, with a ring of the bell above the door. Looks no more than 12 years old. With a pink puffy dress, big pink bow in her hair white tights, the works. Bartender walks towards the girl as if to say something, but before he can, the girl tries to climb up a tall bar stool and fails. Girl tries a second time, a running start this time, and makes it onto the bar stool.)

Girl:
“Get me a Parallel.”

Bartender:
“Hey I’m sorry but you’re-“

(Old Man enters)

Old Man:
“Hello Frank!”

Bartender:
“Hi Bob, this little girl is demanding alcohol. I, really, don’t, I’ll call the-”

Old Man:
“For God’s sake Frank, I’ll take care of it.”
(Beat)
“It’s ok, I’m good with kids.”
(Beat)
“I have grand kids, trust me.”
(Beat)
“Fine. You deal with it, I’ll be right here to step in if you need any help.”

Bartender:
“Hey honey you have to go-”

Girl:
“Oh, come on you don’t have to throw me out right now, I’m just getting started.”
(Does a strip tease)
“What can I do to get something to drink?”

Bartender:
“Nothing, I mean, what are you doing get down from there.”

Girl:
“Ok.”
(Jumps on bartender kiss him, etc.)
“I’m all pent up from catholic school. Don’t you want to know something about the bible?”

Bartender:
“Yes I mean, No, no not at all. Give me that.”

Girl:
“This is my body given to you. Do this for me baby.”

Bartender:
“Stop that.”

Girl:
“Dun, dun, dun, dun-dun, dun-dun, dun, dun, dun, dun-dun.”
(Grabs for beer)

Old Man:
“Get down from there!”

Girl:
“What’s wrong can you not handle it?”

Bartender:
“Stop that, stop that right now. AAaaa!”

(Two people come in the bar.)

Bartender:
(Bartender tries to hide girl)
“OK, fine.”

Old Man:
“OK fine, what?”

Bartender:
“You deal with her.”
(People sit down bartender follows getting orders.)

Old Man:
“I really wasn’t saying that I could…”
(Beat)
"Ok. Um…So, do you come here often?"

Girl:
"What does a girl have to do to get a beer around here?!”

Person 2:
“Excuse me is that a girl.”

Old Man:
(Old Man drinks his beer to exactly half full, half empty, however you see it.)

Girl:
“Hey bartender!”

Bartender:
(Drops a glass.)
“Please don’t…Please don’t leave.”

Person One:
“This is horrible, how could you let a little girl in-”

Bartender:
“Its being taken care of…Bob! Is-”

Person Two:
“I don’t care who is taking care of this. This is-”

Old Man:
“Frank is a great guy, you know, there’s no need to-”
[Overlapping Conversation Part 1]
Bartender:
“Frank-”

Person One:
“We are leaving this bar.”

Old Man:
“Bob let me help you out.”

Person Two:
“And we’re calling the police.”

Bartender:
“NO!”

Old Man:
“No, no, she’s, she is my niece.”

Person Two:
“She is?”

Girl:
“I hope I’m not related to you.”

Bartender:
“Um, No, Um yes she is.”

Person 1:
“Alright then have her sit on your lap.”

Bartender:
“What?”

Old Man:
“Alright I will.”

[Overlapping Conversation Part 2]
Girl:
"It tastes like God pissed in a cup.”

[End of Overlapping Conversation]

People:
(People leave the bar.)

Bartender:
“Dam it Bob!”

Girl:
(Girl tries to drink beer.)

Old Man:
(Places a hand over opened end of glass)
"You can't do that!"

Girl:
“Ok fine I’ll pray first.”

Bartender:
“What are we going to do?”

Old Man:
“We, when did this become we?”

Bartender:
“You said you where good with kids.”

Old Man:
“OK Frank, but I’m only helping you out because it’s your first week.”

[Overlapping Conversation Part 1]

Bartender:
“Oh and why the hell did you say she was you’re niece.”

Old Man:
“I know, I know, I was just trying to help you.”

Bartender:
“That is horrible you lied to a costumer. This is horrible…”

Old Man:
“Just trying to help.”

Bartender:
“Help me! How could that have helped me in any way!?”

Old Man:
“Calm down Frank.”

Bartender:
“Calm down, you lied, they are going to call the cops. I don’t want them to call the cops.”

Old Man:
“They’re not going to call the cops.”

Bartender:
“Yes they are I’m sure they are.”

Old Man:
“Fine, sure, fine, ok, sure.”
[Overlap With Top and Bottom.]

Bartender:
“Calm? I need her out of here now!”

Old Man:
“Then you do it!”

Bartender:
“Me?”

Old Man:
“Do it Frank.”

Bartender:
“I’m doing it Bob.

[Overlapping Conversation Part 2]
Girl:
“Lord I pray for this fine day, that you keep the sun away. And if you can't find it in thine heart, Perhaps consider a second start. But if that start not pure, not clean, There is no point. Just let it be.
Forgive me Lord for all my sin, and let me come back again. For if you find me in thine house, fear me not want me out. For tis true when I see your fine works face, I always see your loving Grace. I do covet your creations heart, but want no dingy second start.So here I stand not pure, not clean, wishing for hope, and your love not seen, that you might let me back again. Amen, let's drink!”

(Girl grabs for glass.)

[Overlapping Conversation Ends]
Old Man:
"I said no!”

Bartender:
“Frank!...take care of.. it, she seems to like you better anyway. Besides you, you’re where good with kids right?”

(Bartender and Old Man struggle over beer.)

Old Man:
“If you really want me to do you’re job, I’m going to need this.”

Bartender:
(Bartender starts cleaning glasses, and things that don’t need to be cleaned.)

Old Man:
“Hey sweetheart, what are you doing in a place like this anyway? Don't you have school or something?"

Girl:
“I just snuck out of a little miss beauty pageant to get some beer, or a least some good conversation. I suppose I’ll have to settle for some good conversation."

Old Man
"Are you serious!?"

Girl:
"As serious as you’re asking simply.”

Old Man:
“Well, Why, why don’t you just go back to your parents.”

Girl:
“Because, I'm tense, this life is getting me down. Catholic school is too hard, and I hate beauty pageants. So why don't you let me knock back a couple cold ones? The bible tells me so.”

Old Man:
(Old Man tries to interrupt)

Girl:
Beauty pageantry isn’t all fairytales and unicorns. The flood wiped them all out anyway. But I'm still around."

Bartender:
“Is everything alright?”

Old Man:
“Yeah everything’s fine Frank.”

Bartender:
“Frank I need her out of here now, maybe I better-”

Girl:
“If you touch me I’ll bite off our hard.”

Bartender:
“Ok, well..”
“I don’t know what to do, I don’t know what to do…etc.”

(Girl grabs for beer.)

Girl:
“Come on give it too me you old fart!”

Old Man:
(Girl lunges for glass.)

Girl:
“It's either this or playing in traffic, Gimme!”

Old Man:
"What do you mean by that?"

Girl:
"I mean, if I don't get some release soon I'm going to do something crazy."

Old Man:
"Those are some strong words for a young lady such as yourself."

Girl:
"You have no idea.”

Old Man:
“I-”

“Do you know what it's like to go without alcohol for 12 years!"

(Girl tries to get beer.)

"I'm tense. Do I look tense to you?"

Old Man:
"How old are you?"

Girl:
“12, No 8, its too late now. Hey look.”
(Throws the ribbon to lassoes the beer)

Old Man:
“What are you talking abooouut?”

Girl:
“It’s too late for good grazing. I’ll have to settle for beer.”

Old Man:
“OK, stop this.”

Bartender:
“What’s going on?”
(Has a jar of pickled eggs under one arm, some other gross pickled thing in the other arm. Rag, Cleaner, etc.)

Old Man:
“Everything’s fine frank.”

Bartender:
“Are you sure?”

Old Man:
“Yes.”
“Don’t you miss your mommy and daddy? I bet they miss you?”

Girl:
“I don’t have parents.”

Old Man:
“Then who enrolled you in this pageant that you keep talking about. You are in a pageant are you?"

Girl:
"Oh, those people yeah, I definitely didn't come from them. They are about as square as you can get and about as idiotic as they come. I couldn't stand it anymore, catholic school, had to run away, but one thing is for sure, they're not going to hell. (beat) They go to church and talk of the great, I Am, constantly. As if they know him, bastard that he is. This was a bad family to sign up for.”

Old Man:
“They go to church? Well they don’t sound so bad.”

Girl:
“Bull-shit! A hand basket seems so much more comfortable than a tiny metal eye. Some might say it's a destination that matters and not how you travel, and others might say that the journey is its own reward. All I know is, I just want to travel in style. That is all that matters to me right now. That and getting some beer!”
(Girl lunges for beer.)
Old Man:
"Well, you're not getting any."

Girl:
(Bites the Old Man)

Old Man:
“You little devil!”

Girl:
(The little girl runs.)

Old Man:
“I’m going to kill you.”

Bartender
“Bob, what are you doing?”

Old Man:
“I’m getting this little girl out of here, like you told me too.”

Bartender:
“I thought you said you where good with kids?”

Old Man:
“I am good with kids, good at teaching them to respect there elders.”

Girl:
“You’re no elder of mine old man!”

Girl:
(Runs back toward bar)

Old Man:
“Help me!”

(Bartender and Old Man hold down girl together.)

Bartender:
“Please, some one any one. Call the cops!”

Old Man:
“We don’t need the police, we need an exorcist.”

Bartender:
“Help us!”

Old Man:
“God help us!”

Bartender:
“Please forgive me, Its not my time to go.”

Old Man:
“Be healed!”

(Two cops come in.)

Cop 1:
“Stop!”

Old Man:
“But I’m good with kids.”

Cop 1:
“Hands on your head.”

Girl:
“Thank you for saving me from these bad, bad men.”

Cop 1:
“It’s going to be ok.”

Cop 2:
“Freeze, don’t move.”

Cop 1:
“What’s going on here?”

[Overlapping Text.]

Old Man:
Well Frank, Frank is a good guy, and really nice. He wouldn’t hurt a fly and this little girl came in off the street. Took her in off the street. I don’t know many guys that would do that. Its doesn’t matter where he is he helps people. He’s always willing to put out a hand to a stranger.

Bartender:
I was just standing in hear cleaning glasses and waiting for some one to show up when, this little girl came in the bar. Well I mean I didn’t know she was a little girl at first. I couldn’t see her over the bar. The point is I have been trying to kick her out all this time and she just won’t leave.

[Overlapping Text Ends.]

Cop 1:
“Stop!”

Girl:
(Starts crying)

Cop 1:
“Could you take care of the girl?”

Cop 2:
“Hey honey, its time to take you home.”

Girl:
“But my dollies behind the counter.”

Old Man:
“But she doesn’t have a-”

Cop 1:
“No Talking.”

Cop 2:
“You stay here I’ll get it for you.”

Girl:
“No I’ll get it.”

Cop 2:
“No I’ll get it.”
“Wait, Dick this is her.”

Cop 1:
“What?”

Girl:
“God dam it!”

Cop 2:
“I mean the women.”

Girl:
(Runs for it.)

Old Man:
“Wait.”

Bartender:
“What?”

Cop 1:
“Her!”
(Tackles girl.)
“Get down.”

Girl:
“Fuck You!”

Cop 2:
“Stop resisting.”

(Girls breasts are wrapped under cloths and come undone.)

Girl:
“Bite me you pig!”

Old Man:
“Oh my god.”

Bartender:
“Wow…”

Cop 1:
“We have been looking for you for a long time.”

Girl:
“I want a lawyer.”

Cop 2:
“What made you do it darling?”

Cop 1:
“Yeah why didn’t you go into acting or something, instead of conning unsuspecting people?”

Girl:
“I didn’t want to act like another person; I wanted to be another person! I live a life you could only dream of.”

Cop 1:
“Well you can tell that to the judge, Ha!”

Cop 2:
“Poor Mr. and Mrs. Johnson, Nice people that they are.”

Cop 1:
“How many other people have you conned?”

Girl:
“I’m pleading the fifth.”

Cop 1:
“Not talking hu? Alright take her away.”

Girl:
“Watch the hair.”

(Girl and Cop 2 exit.)

Old Man:
“Wha-What just happened?”

Cop 1:
“You men are lucky.”

Bartender:
“Lucky, what do you mean?”

Cop 1:
“I mean that girl, is a 28 year old women that has been coning unsuspecting parents for years.”

Bartender:
“What, how?”

Cop 1:
“Well what she does is, finds some well off newly wed couple. Shows up on there door step and imitates a little girl. Says she’s and orphan or something along those lines. Then they take her in she takes them for all they are worth. She’s a good con artist one of the best, and this isn’t the first time she’s tried to get alcohol, that’s how we caught her.”

Bartender:
“Really.”

Cop 1:
“Looks like she slipped up this time, they all slip up some time. That is why I said you are lucky. The last few bartenders ended up downtown and you would have too if my partner hadn’t have noticed her.”

Bartender:
(Faints)

Cop 1:
“She’s a good con artist. That’s why you are lucky.”

Old Man:
“Ho my god.”

Cop 1:
“Well not entirely lucky.”

Old Man:
“Why, why is that?”

Cop 1:
“I’m sorry to say I’m still going to have to take you men in for questioning just to be on the safe side.”

(It all ends with the bartender on the ground, the old man panting and thinking vary hard about what just happened. With a wrecked bar and a cop standing in the middle of it.)

Gay Truth

2009-02-04T10:47:00.000-08:00

There is magic all around us and the best thing to do is not say anything at all. That’s sad, that is a sad existence. But its true you are a better person for holding it on in, in the eyes of the Earth, the rock we are standing slightly sleepy and stone face as ruff as winter. I find myself in this mystical place with all eyes on me, as we all feel, and found that I will not ever be happy until I become something worth wile to myself. What that is I may never know a fate permitting choice of cores trails and hard work. But with so may distractions harping you back to chill like dependences and sloth like dialectic behavior. So that's what I need to do find the magic and become a man. How gay the truth is.

Don't Make People Angry

2008-12-12T13:37:00.000-08:00

I found that I don't need to make people angry at all. For people are angry about the same things. It's a blanket statement that I wish I could disallow, but I came to the conclusion none the wiser. You see there once was a time in witch I thought that I could only truly know some one if, I got them raging mad. This led to much folly in my early adolescent years. But I learned from them and was completely and utterly embarrassed at the sight of my self. I now can put my mind to other things like human behavior. Such things stir a grate need inside of my soul like a monark passing wind on a dimly lit television show, with faces and posters plastered on every nook and cranny of meaningless existence. And so thus far I have been able to decipher the human code in entirety, in all its entirety. For I know now that what never knew should not bother me, because the unknown can be molded and formed before the present engulfs it in all its glory, and makes the thought concrete, like a stone statue in a park with shit placed on its slick pantaloon. But never shaking never wavering sits atop a sleet stone throne forever. Now of cores you have to know you and you alone when performing such an act against man and god. The trick is in making you forget that you ever had such action. Like an old obese glutton, not as sharp in the mind, not knowing tea time for cocktail hour, that says with out thought, "When is the next feast I am starving." Or the again old woman who cry's for the fifth time of an equally old mans telling of a story, never remembering the first time from the last. With all seen and unseen circumstances clouding your view you might wish to go back. But I would like to leave you with this blunt and unfiltered sight. There is no going back. Thank you…

2008-11-09T23:28:00.001-08:00

I don't know how to finish storeys. I don't think I have ever been able to fully finish my storeys. Maybe when I was young I was able to finnish storeys. But not now. I can't finish storeys. I can't finish storeys because the story never stops. It keeps going in that world and in that paradime. I can only finish thoughts. I don't think that any one really ever finishers a story. I think they just finish thoughts. I've found the story goes one weather you like it or not. So how long will you let your story go on before your thought is finished?

Breathe

2008-10-31T14:33:00.000-07:00

Blue faced and ready to go.
I can not stop the inevitable embrace.
Closer we come, until we hug.
Closed eyes and holding breath.
A pat on the back says its time to leave, “Please Breathe.”
She said, “Before I let you go.”

I said, “No.”
She said, “Yes.”
Standing toe to toe.

Holding tighter the fog comes on fast.
Still holding, I don’t know how long I can last.
“Please forgive me,” I pray to my god, and breathe in the devil.
“Now was that so darn bad?”

“No it wasn’t,” I said with her eyes on mine.
Then she walked off with a stumble, and a, “I’m ok.” So divine.

So if you find yourself in this situation, and asked for exhalation, have no hesitation.

A Middy Brain Drain

2008-10-18T12:05:00.001-07:00

I was told today how I need to stop using the word I. The editor and chef said, "Its not an ok term to be used in journalism." That and we, you, and us are bad terms as well. Like the F word, is a bad word. You just don't say these things. I can see where they are coming form. But it is going to be hard for.......The Writer of This Article....to not use those god for sicken words.

October Strings

2008-10-08T20:23:00.000-07:00

Wonderful October day today. I miss you, you all, I look all around me and I realize how I wasn't alone all along. I saw all of the people and wondered why I didn't know them and why they don't know me.

I met a con girl today, she had conned her whole life away. I told her my phone number was a cup of coffee.

I met a man on the bus breathing hallelujah. I told him he wasn't alone but didn't listen to me.

I felt an old girl with a feather in her hair. I told her I was here and I'd talk to her for a little wile.

I miss my friends I've never had, I miss my father and I miss my dad, I miss my mother and joy we had. I finely see the October strings. Black cats and hags never had it in for me. I never had it in for them. I find my self where I need to be and a place I want to be. I think its beautiful, when all around me is falling into deficit.

The world could end and any moment. An asteroid could hit us at any time, things happen. We have no insurance of survival. No one to save us but us.

For Every Job Application That is Filled Out in Vain 3000 Innocent Kittens Die!

2008-09-28T01:09:00.000-07:00

People who know me will tell you that I’m not a violent person. But filling out job applications turns me into a different person. When I’m sitting at a table or desk filling out job applications. Filling out the same dam information over and over again and knowing that it really doesn’t matter if these employers know this stuff or not. Knowing full and well that I might as well fill out this application and throw it in the nearest waist resepticle. But when I get to a part that I just don’t understand, like on a dollar store application that asks me, what experience I desire to gain. I just sit there looking at the question for 30mins. First I think about the real answer, I want to gain the experience of making money. Then I think about how that’s not even and answer. Then I think about the answer they want me to put. Like, broadening my horizons in the work place. Then I think about how I just spent 30mins on one question, thinking deeply and philosophically, on a job application for the dollar store. I look at the clock and I see that I just spent an hour and 11 minuets on an application I’m not even half done with yet. It makes me a little angry. No it makes me border line psychotic. I want to find these people that crated this work of satin called a job application. Death would be too good for them, they need to suffer in the catacombs of hell! I really don’t know what happens its like something just comes over me that I can’t control. It’s a thrust for violence that I only get when I fill out job applications. It makes me wonder if the world would be a better place without job applications. Would there be less violence if there was no job applications? Would we all be happier? And more importantly if you don’t agree with filling out job applications why do you support a system that you don’t agree with?

I have a resume and it pains me to think that I need to write the same information that is on my resume into and application for no reason other then because. It also pains me to think that in some places I’m not aloud to go outside the application, not even with an attached resume. I am really good with people, but it never asked me that on the application. I can set short and long-term goals and get things done but it never asked me that on the application. I think I’m almost at the point of going around town asking for an application and writing on it, “Give me a fucking job!” With a phone number. I need a job so bad but I can not stress how much its killing my soul.

If I was in charge I would propose that businesses make there application process more user friendly. I think the business should make applications more standard and not expect them to be filled out completely. If applications are not filled out completely they missing content should be able to be found in the attached resume. Also the resume format needs to be standardized as well. I think if these where implemented we would have a happier community and less people out of work. All and all I think we all can agree that the whole system needs to be made more user friendly somehow. For the employer and the employee.

2am

2008-09-26T01:51:00.000-07:00

Why do I always wait until 2am to start writing? It might have something to do with the fact that it’s just me in my underwear and the screen here, no one other person. I guess I could go on youtube and dink around but that always leads to more boredom then what I had to began with. Or I could google odd things, like ‘Vintage Underwear…lets see what we have.

http://shop.ebay.com/items/vintage%20underwear?_dmd=1&_cpr=249

I like the yellow and black ones. $15 yikes; that’s to much for a peace of cloth that no one ever sees. Google take me away to a better place! Um, ‘Shmuttyma’…not even google and find that word. Maybe it is time for bed. No one last time before bed. ‘Sunshine Jelly’…well what do you know. Strait from the sun. http://www.flickr.com/photos/serenejournal/2752198682/

Sunshine jelly does exist. Well its time for bed for me but I could be lying. Lying get it? Ha, ha, whatev’good night.

Prodigal Children

2008-09-25T01:02:00.001-07:00

Sometimes when I’m feeling unmotivated I look up prodigal children on youtube. You know the kids at the age of 9 that can paint a landscape that looks like it was taken out of a national geographic. It gives me the motivation I need to write that extra little bit play the piano a little longer.

Little pricks, it makes me wonder what I’m doing with my life. These kids have there lives all planed out already.

I’m still back at home living with my parents. Trying to brake into this ‘wild world’.

Of cores do you know how much that would such, to be better then every one all the time? It really would with friends and even family. It would be hard being smarter then your parents. But you know these kids just can’t help it and they shouldn’t be penalized for being brilliant.

I just want to go up to them and shake prepubescent hand and say thank you for helping the rest of us. Thank you for making us all look bad and there for motivating us to out do you and therefore somehow making the world a better place.

Thoughts and Food

2008-09-25T00:00:00.001-07:00

Eggs, Steak, Hamburger, Liver, Spinage, Carrots, Olives, Black Beans, Oranges, Blue Barrys, I really don’t know why I have food on the brain. What I’m really thinking about right now is how I never read.
I never reed other writers work. I always tell people to reed my work, but I never reed other artists. I need to get on that. If I ever want to grow. That and get a job. I really need to get a job. Maybe all become the Anti Christ. I’ve always wondered what happened next in the story. You know the bible story, what happened next? Maybe all write it and bring it to an end. Its stuff like that; that sells books you know. Some might say I’m setting my goals a little high but I don’t think so.

Unfinished

2008-09-16T13:40:00.001-07:00

One person sits in a table and chair in the mall. So many thoughts so many faces and none his own, all for the taking. This odd aligning of events made something curious happen. Much to his amazement someone sat and perched themselves on the chair across from him. "Is this a good time?"

Without looking up he said, "What do you mean by time?"

"I can't be sure, all I know is it's been a long time sense I've talked to you." said the person across from him. The young man looks and sees a girl but nothing more then lets out a yawn.

"How rude." Said the up right female in front of him.

"I don't have time for little girls and silly games so if you want to say something then say it." Said the man, and sat back as nothing had happened. They just sat and looked at each other for the longest time.

"You're the real deal aren't you?" said the girl with open eyes.

"If I was to tell you it would defeat the purpose of this conversation that we are having right now." Said the man without an expression.

"No you just don't want to answer my question, you just want to change the subject. Funny thing is I wanted to change it too." Said the girl sternly.

"You know it's a lot of work to create your own thoughts like you just did there." The man said.

"Right so I was going to ask you what we should do now, now that where here again together. I mean don't you want to go back?" said the young women longingly.

"Nothing more comforting then this place we have found ourselves in the eyes of the world. But the world doesn't see through our eyes. Didn't we have a deal you weren't going to talk to me ever again?" said the young man with a raised eyebrow.

"Yes that's why I wrote you this." The girl riffled through one of her pockets that seemed to be full of little notes and shoves a folded paper into his hand.

"How did you know we were going to meet?" He said.

"You didn't." She winked then handed him a letter.

The manuscript read:

Dear Recipient

Ha! Your talking. There probably isn't any doubt in your mind as to my deeds. But you're talking to me and that must count for something.

I have come to deny the existence of God because God acts similar to something that isn't there at all. The weird part being that I want to try this over again. Not for you but for myself as I have nothing left to do.

"So what is this suppose to do? Am I suppose to somehow be in awe of you somehow? Or is this just to spite me? Do you want to fight?" the man lays down the letter in front of him and folds his arms.

"I really don't like arguing.. I'd rather agree... so I like to discuss." Said the girl sincerely.

"Your not making any sense! I'll put aside that the lines between arguing and discussing are thin at best. But to say there is no God and then ask me to reunite with you is absurd just like this conversation. You and I know God is real and stuck behind that catalyst wall of his. Putting human sin aside I need to find a way to repent for my own and I can't do that without you. The fact is the only reason God is letting us speak right now is because in the end it will be just as if we never spoke at all and that is why we can't get back together ever." The man slowly lowered his painful cast from the girl to the ground.

The girl crossed her arms down word clasped her hands smiled and said,

"Unless we go into it knowing it will end."

"Are you really up for doing this over again?" said the boy.

"Yes." Said the women standing before him.

"Then lets go."

Unspoken Love

2008-09-16T13:38:00.000-07:00

How do you tell some one you love them with out talking to them? Wait let me rephrase that. How do you tell some one you love them with all your heart but with out saying it because you never want to talk with them ever again?

Love it's a word that's spoken a lot. Its never unspoken, witch leaves me to wondering if spoken love as we know it is even love at all. What is love? I for one can not say what love is, as it is not my calling to love. It is however my calling to tell the truth as I see fit, and I see love as what it is. That's as far as I'm going to go but I do have a friend that says she knows what love is and it is her calling to tell this rude fact.

That fact is that she came to fined is love isn't a feeling at all, it's a relationship its something that was always there but the only thing that was shown to us. It was shown to us because sin was shown to us. She also wants to point out that love came before sin. It comes from a place we know nothing about we could call that place anything heaven. That might be why Love is so hard to explain. God loved first so we could love one another or God tout us how to love.

Now I know I'm using words like God and Heaven but take thows words out and put in your own and don't let the vocabulary throw you off into a tizzy as I go on. The reason this is so incredibly important is Love and Sin for that matter is the only evidence we have that shows there ever was a god. Love in particular is a wonderful gift and when you truly taste it you will know that it is from another place that you know nothing about. Maybe that's why its all so exighting. Now you might see that I might be hinting at the idea that sin and love are at odds, but that is not what I'm trying to get at, at all. So why don't you just relax and let me tell my story.

I saw her first which meant she didn't see me. I was tired of watching and in a acword scents walking on egg shells that I had put down for myself to walk on. This has to end, I told myself. It took awhile on the crowded bus but sure enuf I got up to her and sat down. She wouldn't look at me so I tapped her on the shoulder and she looked over. She looked at me with her big round white sunglasses and it was clear to me what I had to do. I just reached striate over and took thows suckers off. Then I just looked into her eyes for a short time. The sun was in my eyes so I couldn't see her fully all I can hope is she got what she needed. "How are you doing?" She said.

I still didn't want to talk to her so I just put my left pointer finger over her mouth still holding her sunglasses. We scarcely had time to talk any way as her stop was just another away. I took my finger back and threw back her spectacles as she hurriedly put them back on. At first I wasn't sure if she had gotten the message but as she was leaving she put a simple hand on my shoulder and left. The people around me must have thought I was an interesting fellow to say the least but I didn't care I was at peace and I hope she is too.

Now I know some of you elderly people might have a different take on things. But this moment was timeless played over again in lots of bars many wonderful places on a 2 bit television in some far off gally.

That my take on unspoken love and in that moment it was the best kind of love.

Short Autobiography

2008-09-11T20:40:00.001-07:00

Education has always plagued me. I just don't know what do to for it; I know I need to get good grades but the grading system seems so random to me sometimes. If someone were to come up to me and ask me what education really meant to me, I suppose, I would say that it doesn't mean much to me for educations' sake. It doesn't mean much to me because I don't see a real difference between less school and more school. The idea that you can bank knowledge just by passing a class is silly. You end up forgetting half of what you knew and in the end the only things you remember are the things you use. Education is a good thing when it is self-motivated and therefore in a sense pure. That's just the tip of something that I never could do just in the short amount of time that I have.

Now a little about myself, I don't know the importance of education, but education for me is something to allow others to take me seriously. Much more seriously then they would take someone without an education. This might be unjustly so, but it is the way of the world. I mainly want to be taken seriously as a writer. I don't know if you know this but I'm severely dyslexic and I have always feared the blank sheet of paper in front of me. One day I just got tired of it and did something about it. That something was forcing myself to write once every week. I soon learned to love it and started posting it online. Others started to read it and told me they had never read anything like it before. I suppose that's a good thing. I would like to make a career out of something I love some day and writing might just be it. A dyslexic writer who would have thunk it? I would like to be taken seriously as a writer and as a person. To do so, I think broadening my education can help me do that.

I write every week, so in my mind I write a lot. I wish I could write every day but some times I'm too busy. I hate to say it but I'm not well read. For obvious reasons, I have however, lately, not been able to keep my head out of Genesis. It's the first chapter in some old book I've found its pretty interesting.

I have answered most questions about life, you know, the usual. Q: What is the meaning to life? A: To finish what we started. Still don't know what we started but its getting there. Q: World peace? A: Kill Everything. Q: Is there a god? A: Yes but he acts like something that isn't there at all.

I'm an Atheist but I don't practice it much. So like I said I've answered most things. Right now, I am working on such things as 'Why did the chicken cross the road.' and 'How many licks does it take to get to the core of a tasty hard candy on a stick.'

One thing for sure is that nothing is for certain, I'm not even certain if I was the first to say something like that. But some people and I do mean people! Have gotten awfully close. That's all I'm saying, I certainly wouldn't know anything about everything or anything for that matter.

Mood Strikes

2008-09-11T20:34:00.000-07:00

Every time the mood strikes me, I go for a late night stroll. Dream walks I call them, the time when the world is able to take in a deep breath. Its sters an invigorating feeling in my soul. One last walk before the crimson curse blankets the valley in red death. I'm never as brazen at I think I am, I never seem to go where I want to go. I'm always looking over my shoulder in fear of the night. To help the panic all often sing a well known toon. As I walk I look at the houses, and wonder who these people are and why I don't know them. I wonder what types of lives they live. I pass judgment on the houses and make up storys. When walking I often light a cigaret to help clear my mind. Take a shallow breath and coff, I've always been a horrible smoker, if there ever was such a thing. Half the time I just let them burn out, but theres something about having that fire in your hand and the way the smoke billows out into the cold night air. That stink on your flash and the filter in your mouth as you walk. I always find it interesting that in walking I've never had any problem with people, the truth is I never seen any one out at the time I take my walks. No, the problem is with stray dogs. Stray dogs will attack you if they see you at night or at least give you a scare. With no one around you feel helpless. But that doesn't happen vary often. In the back of my mind I'm always wishing to meet some one out on my late night venturers. I really don't know what I would to if I ever found any one out there. Probably talk to them. I've always wanted some one to walk with. It gets lonely, its always lonely. I would ask them what they where doing. If I could tell that they had no business being out at that late hour I would be intrigued. Vary intrigued and want to know more. Like I said I really don't know what I would do I just know I would talk to them. Maybe thats why I walk, maybe thats the only reason I walk, in hopes of meeting some one. No, thats not the only reason. I walk for the fear the cheep thrills of knowing that I'm the only one thats up and theres a higher chance that something might happen to me that out of the ordinary. I walk because I'm broken and I know that if I find some one walking when I am; they will be broken too. And I will have some one to talk too. And that is why I walk...