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Title: "The Villa Steppes" 3
Posted: September 29, 2007 (08:37 PM)
Conroy knew him.
The figure ruffled its hooded coat. He couldn't see the man's face, but Conroy knew him and knew that he was staring him down. Slowly, the man's hands went to his face and pulled back the veil. Blackness and a mismatch of hard to recall flesh lurched out at Conroy.
He felt his eyes fill with pressure, his veins' blood turn to boil. Without warning, he lunged a fist forward. The man didn't need to move from the straight's path; Conroy's strength drained from his body before the blow could connect. His knuckles touched lovingly and it fired his anger. Refueled, he threw a high knee that fell as softly. Disappointed, he tried his hardest to hurt the figure, but each of his limbs moved slowly until they stopped. All of his force turned inwards until his weakness beat into the fragile tissue of his own organs. Conroy bore himself into the man until he bled from the inside out. Until he woke, calm as a usual morning.
Title: Movies I've seen lately and their rating.
Posted: September 29, 2007 (08:16 PM)
SIDEWAYS gets a firm 10/10. No loose ends, no missing info, perfectly played part from my man Paulie G and a catchy performance by Church.
SNAKES ON A PLANE gets a strong 10/10. Haven't seen a movie made of more action fun until SHOOT EM UP hit theaters this year. Sammy wins an award for badassness and ability to woo loose chicks.
CODE46 gets a believable 7/10. Borderline hollow performances from both Robbins and Morton, but the story holds everything together nicely, and it's interesting to see the sights of a possible near-future. Plus, there's a vagina. Samantha Morton's vagina. It's good.
SUPERBAD gets a holy-like 11/10. The BEST movie of its ilk since FAST TIMES AT RIDGEMONT HIGH. Epicly funny and endearing, outrageously true-to-life, and the best understanding of modern friendship that I've ever seen on-screen. Plus, the Dick Tank rules all.
THE FINAL CUT gets an awesome 8/10. Robin Williams gives a stellar show as the mortician-like "Cutter". Memories, death and "big brother" type situations all play a major role, and the story closes just as it should; calmly, but showing signs of the storm to come.
Title: "The Villa Steppes" 2
Posted: September 27, 2007 (09:42 PM)
The breach in time and space took his feet to the Victoria City Center. In a puddle on the West side of fourth and Burnside, Conroy struggled to keep the rain out of his eyes. All of the clouds in the living world took a vacation to visit Victoria; all of the people in the City Center were vying for their place on a bus and out of the weather. Crowded under the covers and shivering, he tried to identify with their annoyance. Hand up in front of his chest, the water caught in his palm and the only apparent sensation was of serenity. The people scattered from their hiding place as the number twelve eased its way towards the curb beside him. Masses boarded all full of relief to be safe until home, yet a single figure stepped from the vehicle's innards.
Onto the walk beside Conroy, it was a man.
Title: "The Villa Steppes"
Posted: September 27, 2007 (06:45 PM)
They hadn't spoken in minutes. The two rolled their shoulders forward into the view and set eyes to stone. From the fourth balcony of Uermaud Mall at a table closest to the safety rails, the outward scene belonged more to a canvas than to the earth. The goal of many artists is to create a piece serene, so intangibly out of place in the business of day-to-day world. And there, highest atop The Villa Steppes, Uermaud town tore down their sweetest dreams. Inexplicable sprawls of color and shade found rest in the surrounds of the linear architecture. Vivacious life came from the sun and its choice to be shy each turn of the clock by lowering beyond the peaks the outlined the Estouian Bay.
M'hughes Conroy, shorter of the duo, lifted his bubble tea from the cast iron table. He broke his gaze and looked to James. She pouted her lips against the breeze. Unknowingly, he wondered. James Heuro Kearney. Months ago, when they'd first met, he had a dream. During a long afternoon at home, he fell asleep while going through his notes. Cheek pursed comfortably along worn burgundy, Conroy took a nap on his sofa, the first in many years.
Title: Funny how time can change a person.
Posted: September 27, 2007 (11:34 AM)
Title: Code 46.
Posted: September 25, 2007 (06:25 PM)
Pretty good movie with Tim Robbins. Really sweet and touching and a good flick all around. Better, I can imagine, if you're planning on watching it with a girl. I can't say it's the most unique idea, but it's definitely developed well and has some interesting ideas.
And just goes to show you, that if the director knows pacing like a genius, a vagina will be the most surprising thing you'll ever see.
Title: On Halo 3.
Posted: September 25, 2007 (04:30 PM)
Bad news is, that my sister really wanted a 360 - being the nice dude that I am, sold it and Dead Rising to her for $60. It's my early Christmas gift to her.
I was never interested in Halo so much after the first episode, but what with all the hype and muddled opinions, I thought I'd at least give it a look over at my friend's place.
He and another friend are getting ready to play deathmatch, and I'm gonna hang back and see what all the fuss is about.
Posted: September 23, 2007 (07:36 PM)
Actually, it was a date! Turns out she broke up with her boyfriend cause he moved to Texas for college.
TALK ABOUT FUCKING WINDFALL!
CRUSH (Who just had the best day of his life)
Title: Well. . . shit.
Posted: September 23, 2007 (12:42 PM)
Thought that I had a date today. Very pretty girl, wants to get to know me, who's also interested in spirituality as opposed to conventional religious ideas. . . my luck had to have been turning around for the best, right?
Ah. . . nope. Turns out that she's one of my Junior High school friend's girlfriend. Fuck-ing-A.
I fucking swear.
Title: "Turn In, Again, Again" (Lyric to accompany "Confidence John")
Posted: September 19, 2007 (10:54 PM)
Do you know the nights I've spent?
Caressing my shoulders, face down in bed with my mouth in the pillow.
My significant other, she never is.
Dreams of a strained love gone great, thoughts of tomorrow make me ache for a break,
Or anything equal.
Here touch my hand - but not the right one.
I am no lefty - but the other is dirty.
Trust me when I warn that you're better off unknowing.
Here in my room I'm free to beat myself off,
like I'm used to.
Treat myself to
good times as long as I
don't think on it or of it.
Happiness in a bottle, no one to hold my stress against.
Here the trouble is mine and the seconds, too.
Before the sleep and before I'm done,
I'll quit my plan and redemption's won.
Title: On Music - Morrissey/Smiths pt. I
Posted: September 19, 2007 (10:21 PM)
Here's a compilation of the best (and commonly overlooked) tracks from my three favorite artists.
Break Up The Family - (From the album "Viva Hate")
Lucky Lisp - (From the album "Bona Drag"
There's a Place in Hell For Me and My Friends - (From the album "Kill Uncle")
I Know It's Gonna Happen Someday - (From the album "Your Arsenal")
Do Your Best and Don't Worry - (From the album "Southpaw Grammar")
Satan Rejected My Soul - (From the album "Maladjusted")
Speedway - (From the album "Vauxhall and I")
Friday Mourning; No One Can Hold a Candle to You (Raymonde cover); Come Back to Camden - (Triple mention from the album "You are the Quarry")
On the Streets I Ran - (From the album "Ringleader of the Tormentors")
Other mentions that are 'must listens' include:
Jack the Ripper; It's Hard to Walk Tall When You're Small; That's How People Grow Up (unreleased).
Title: "Confidence John"
Posted: September 19, 2007 (09:19 PM)
"C'mon," he spat, turned for the door behind them, "I hand out the money, I say when you stop. So stop."
"You get so defensive and you're never gonna go anywhere."
He stopped with his hand around the knob. A moment's reflection made him regret the words that exploded from his mouth without a contemplation. He and that feeling were well acquainted; and once again, deep down in his guts, he wished he could manage more than the wry response he knew was on the rise.
People were dumb. Women, especially. Every one of them a sucker that he spurned the existence of. The four syllables didn't hit any sort of shield that they all so pretentiously knew was surrounding his body. Each of them bit into the flesh behind the base of his neck, set to coppulate in his spine. If he were smart, he'd know what to do when someone offered gentler words like hers. Instead, they pulsed through his nervous system and turned his body into a conduit for secret hate.
"If I had the money, I'd buy that, too."
(To be continued. . .)
Title: "Confidence John"
Posted: September 18, 2007 (01:58 PM)
What little lace she wore around her waist wasn't enough to keep his attention. A common story if he chose to share his day-to-day with the people he knew. It was protocol for the girls to continue with their business under any circumstance besides physical threat; undisturbed, automatic vessels. John still felt her eyes track him from his seat to the lightswitch with a deeply rooted curiosity. It was more likely that she shared the opinion that he was strange. But a man has to have a dream.
John flicked on the overhead light and pressed down the button for the DepSpase generator. The room ignited into a state of overexposure for a couple of seconds. He could barely make out the borderlines of black around her eyelids.
She sighed and patted the sides of her face with the fingertips of both hands. When the bloom withered into neutral fluorescence, she furrowed her penciled brow and casually approached him with her exposed breasts in the lead.
"This the end?"
"Yeah. Sorry about the trouble," he whispered, avoiding eye contact as the girl pressed closer to his body.
"John; you've gotta get some help."
She hoisted her chest up above the cups of the lingerie garb. John shamefully watched her press her nipples beneath the cover of the fabric out of his peripherals.
"Have you ever thought?"
For her area of work, she had a most sincere set of eyes. Most of them did, no matter where he went. When he had found a heartless brothel, it was always the upscale kind. Like in the rest of life, people with the least amount of money and respect treated you the nicest of anyone. It couldn't have hurt that they all knew him as a regular, but there was more concern on the table than a big tip could explain away.
"Yeah. I don't know what my problem is, though."
"They have tests for that kind of stuff. You don't have to know."
"I can't afford them."
"Are you scared, John?"
(To be continued. . .)
Title: "Confidence John"
Posted: September 17, 2007 (11:08 PM)
The girl was delicious. He honestly could have eaten her. The fine translucent hairs that covered her bronzed behind stood on end. They caught the perfect amount of simulated moonlight from the boxed in room's generator. She took her fingers and ran them playfully between her legs. She pressed them against his lips so that he'd know the scent and slip of her own. It was her way of teasing him - no, not hers. It was the way he'd written it down on paper. His ultimate fantasy in motion only a few inches out of his reach; a beautiful girl gyrating methodically, a silent ruckus to rouse his voyeuristic nature.
They were all his "ultimate fantasy". Each of them had been given the title for one reason or another. He remembered smiling on a few occasions early on, a child on a shopping spree in one of Portland's specialty toy shops.
Fun as it was, it wore thin - quickly. Yet John, he was addicted. To think that the magazine had been free. All of its pages damned him equally when he flipped over them. There were so many numbers to dial and pictures to see; so many opportunities to imagine and then realize that they could all be his. For a price, and temporarily. But for a moment long enough to last his memory a lifetime, they'd be John's.
(To Be Continued. . .)
Title: The Importance of Self-Awareness.
Posted: September 15, 2007 (05:04 PM)
If I say that I'm happy enough as it is being on my own - and can remember specific moments when it's rang significantly true - then why is most of my lonesome time spent feeling like an old gentleman with the blues?
More curious; if I'm content like I find, then why in the hell is it any bother?
I can't figure out love - but it's not even love. Depending on your outlook and philosophy, truth behind that matter may not ever exist. More seriously important is the ability to run the track.
Unaware, I know what I'm looking for but not how to go about introducing myself to the world. There's nothing so desperate at hand that would make me say it's of any urgency, but it still gets on my nerves. Shyness isn't as much of an issue as it was years ago for as long as I can recall; now, it's the awkward-at-heart sensation.
I often say that I feel like an old man - not in body, but in spirit. I appreciate the simplicites of life and put more of my emphasis on presence rather than conversation. I can hold my own at my very best, if you'd wish:
I don't have much to say.
Going further than that, I don't do much. I make sure that I look after myself and keep my physical|spiritual centers as healthy as I'm able - other than that, I spend most of my time in contemplation or in an appreciative silence of the subtleties of the world around me.
I suppose I am content by myself. Thing of it is, I'm aware that I'm missing out on something; on values of trust and relation and experience that I hold very dear. Principles like that make the world a more exciting and colorful place to be. If I see a couple holding hands and sharing a pleasant moment, I say a prayer in thanks to whichever god decides to listen in.
And although I try never to curse the happiness or fortune of others, I do grasp the lyrics of Morrissey closely for a reason.
There are times when I wonder why none of the fortune can fall on me and when two lovers entwined pass me by, the heavens know that I'm miserable.
What is a boy to do?
You've got to live through it before you can become a man.
How that happens, I'm oblivious.
But here's hoping.
Sentiments and salutations to the HG staff and community,