CHRISTMAS EVE. THIS IS WHAT I WILL BE DOING EATING COOKIES FOREVER YUM

Drew and I

Short Story to Become a Short Film

Rainier lay breathing, her face planted in the cold snow. She lay, contemplative of the sensations around her. She felt the melting of the snow under her warm live body. The metallic taste in her mouth was from her bleeding nose, she watched the cardinal stain spreading on the snow before her face. Her arm lay at an odd angle up the hill behind her. Wind stirred the trees. She closed her eyes for a moment.

Jack waited on the side of the road looking for a ride into town. He was careful about who he let give him a ride, they had to be just right. No truckers or men alone, he would only stick out his thumb for little families and women. Hippies were alright too. His general rule for hitching, and he had developed quite the list of rules was “Nobody I couldn’t take down in a fight.” Though this generally spelt more walking for him, he didn’t mind. He was in no rush, nobody in town was expecting him to show up. He’d been gone for almost three years now. Traveling around the country, working seasonally on farms. He’d saved up some money traveling light. Jack considered this his grand adventure, there had been no rules, no one to answer to. By now, he surmised that he was certainly off police radar. His infractions had been minor mostly but after the last big job he felt like it was time to move on for a while. Yet something had drawn him back to the town where he had grown up. A car pulled down the lonely north-eastern highway, around a curve of snow heavy pines preceded by a cold gust of wind, a young woman was at the wheel. Jack stuck out his thumb.

Rainier ran panting through the woods, she didn’t look back. Her legs screamed out in lactic pain, she couldn’t stop. Fight and flight had surely kicked in now and there was only the gnawing on instinct on her mind. She sprinted at top speed down the path. Pursuit she though almost blandly, was inevitable.

Jack was surprised when the car pulled to the side of the road. His face, reflected in the passenger side window of the car looked scraggly, dark circles ringed his eyes. The window rolled the glass slowly down, revealing a petite dark haired slip of a girl. She smiled brightly.
“Hey stranger, where you headed?”
Jack shifted his rucksack on his shoulders.
“Just into Burlington.”
“Well that’s where I’m headed!” she grinned “One stop excepted, if you’re in no hurry I’m your gal.”
Jack grinned, “That’ll be just fine Miss.”

She was out of breath, her asthma was catching up with her. The path divided, which way did she have the best chance? She knew that there could be no escape. A hunter never lets go of wounded prey. The trees about her stood like thin dark tombstones, marking places long forgotten. Rainier chose a path and dashed.

“Unusual name, Rainier. After the mountain I suppose?”
She smiled at Jack, he seemed nice, a little down on his luck, but a good guy.
“Yup, hippie parents, the whole deal. Anyone expecting you in town?”
“Not a soul,” he said leaning back into his seat relaxing. “You know it’s dangerous to pick up hitchers on lonely roads don’t you?”
Rainier smiled again, “Well Jack I used to do a fair amount of hitching myself. Mind if I turn on the radio?”
Jack grinned, and ran his nicotine stained fingers though his hair. This was all too perfect.
“Sure thing missy.”

The hunter had caught up with the prey, the shovel slammed down over and over. Screams of pain reached nobody’s ears this far into the woods. The deep red splattered all over the snow, bits of skull and brain clung lovingly to the now crimson shovel. The colors were perfect. So perfect. Everything had been, just as the hunter dreamed it would be. The satisfying crack of skull, the pink mists of blood, and the chunks of brain stuck in dark hair.

Rainer turned down the radio.
“You mind if we stop on that trail up ahead? I’m a photographer and I want to take a few pictures. There’s a little brook not too far into the woods.”
Jack was pulled out of his daydream in disbelief.
“Sure Rainer.”
He always liked to say a new person’s name a few times, it helped to get their trust. She pulled the car over to the side and he got out.
“Would you mind running round the bend of the path and grabbing me a trail map? I want to make sure I don’t have us wandering all over creation.”
Jack knew that his little name trick had worked, she was so trusting already. He walked around the corner and out of sight of the car.
Rainer went to the trunk, and unlocked it with the key. Moving the large camera aside, she grabbed the rusted old shovel. She took a deep breath and prepared herself for the hunt.
Besides, who would miss a drifter?

prelude to a massacre

Her boots were dusty and her jeans were dirty but that wasn't what told sam she was from a place far from here, or no place at all, it was the top of a tattoo that peeked from under the back of her shirt. It sat there, calm, and half hidden, but there was no mistaking the shape. On her skin sat a cathedral window, but instead of depicting a bible story each window had a symbol he had never seen before. He followed her into the gas station's little general store. People opened up to him easily, he could get her to say something. But he was dead wrong...

As per my request: Sofi writes the Ballad of Issac Hayes

Holiday Party 2007

And so it was said that she should only make the face of metal in her party photos!


Oliver is the male version of me.










Tomorrow! WILL BE AWESOME

Well about Damn time! Halloweeeenie 2007 Pictures!

all of these were taken by The Lovely Miss Ginevra Shay

Alan Moore isn't taking my calls...

Well as if by magic, I was browsing the webs yesterday to find that Alan Moore's The Watchmen is now in production. Terry Gilliam said that the film was too complex and ditched it, saying it would do better as a five hour mini series. (CORRECT!) Such wonderful ideas have been thrown around while this project was in development hell like " Arnold Schwarzenegger as Dr.Manhatten! Brilliant!" or KEANU REEVES. like at all. Who ever even suggested that Keanu be in the watchman is an idiot. UNLESS BILL AND TEd ARE MEETING SUPERHEROS KEEP KEANU OUT OF IT.

I'm mad tired. There are finals all over and I can barely type.

c to d (tower of london version)

D,

I assume that you will probably receive my text message before you read this, but if that isn't so "I am back in New Jersey." Exausted and feeling a bit like I smell of airplane but overwhelmingly Alive, which is a good thing. It was rainy and my flight was delayed, the resulting wait wasn't as bad as it could have been however and I was much releived. Once in the tiny airplane I came to the realization that there was only myself and twelve other passengers. I sat alone with not one single person in sight and since I had my book and my journal this suited me fine. The flight felt longer than it's 50 minutes but we did fly through a storm and I must admit it was pretty thrilling. I could look out the window and in the flashes of bright white light that mark the wings of the plan for others see the raindrops miles before they hit earth seemingly suspended by the strobe. It was really fantastic, I wish you had seen it. It was a like a sneak preview of these little drops that hadn't reached the earth yet.

My family seems well. There is now a cheerleading bumper sticker on the car. My sister is more like my mother every day. I feel strange and old here like I don't quite belong. I am wearing stupid pajamas. You'd laugh if you saw me. They are warm though. Did you know that the root of "pajama" is persian? It derives from "leg pants." My question is, of course, are there pants that are not for one's legs?

I miss you. I am going to write you another letter on hotel stationary. If I meet Alan Moore I'll tell him not to let anyone make his comic books into movies. Especially Watchman. I wish neil gaiman still lived in london, I could sit outside his house chanting his name and asking him to teach me his ways of writing wave to him.


I'm Exhausted, and I found my pocket edition of Dracula.


Yours,

Chris

shut up

no one's impressed you fuckwit.

Haloween!!!!!!! IS COOOOMING

When I was little I desperatly wanted to be Morticia Addams, because I mean damn she speaks french is a botonist AND can take on Gomez in a sword fight. I asked if I could be her for halloween and my mother suggested that I be Wednesday instead since the Morticia costume would be hard for people to know what I was. I was indignant and said that I just needed a dress like hers. "The one that makes you like this!" I said and then proceeded to outlines a tiny waist and large hips. My mom had a hard time explaining to me that it wasn't the dress, that it was just the way Morticia was. I was crushed. I was a nun that year and for 2 years after it.

weirdest 5 year old ever.

Guys, Dumbledor was Gay.

Weird

http://www.eonline.com/news/article/index.jsp?uuid=c2b40da2-2406-4e8f-bc89-6fc11d1b0e41

I guess I thiught of him asexually...like merlin or gandalf. I guess merlin was a little sexy.

hmmm. I'll have to think about this