Sheep go to heaven, goats go to hell, and cows go in my belly

Me, I'm unemployed. But enough about me, let me tell you...

My wife, she is beautiful. She is a pianist, classically trained, and I think she plays fantastically. I get to listen to her practice a lot. Most of the time it is just part of a piece, played over and over, but sometimes it is a whole piece and she plays it through, sometimes she sings, but I don't understand the words, sometimes. She is going to school (on the sly this quarter) to learn to sing and accompany and shit. She sang at Carnegie Hall last april, got to wander around NY for a while. Everytime we see NY on T.V. she says she has been there... it is so friggin' cute I want to explode sometimes. I am a lucky boy.

We have 2 girls.

The Noner (No-ner), she was born in a hottub in a birthcenter in Redmond. She is smart as a whip. She is in the gifted program at her school and is learning things I don't think I even heard about until I was in Jr. High. She was born with my families mental disposition, though. She is a thinker and a deep feeler. She cares about EVERYTHING. She has the thickest wavy hair, damn...

Her little sister, the little viking, she was born in the O building her at the apartment complex we currently live in. That was on purpose. We had a portable hottub brought in and set up in the living room and that is where she was born. We had a midwife, a midwife in training, a doula and a mother-in-law there. It seemed like it all happened really fast, and I dreamed of white elephants the night before she was born. I think that means something.
SHE is super smart, way to friggin' smart for her own good. Rainman smart, sometimes. She is so f'in gorgeous. She has the most beautiful blond hair, dude, it glows... she is supposedly in Kindergarten (officially) but she ended up getting moved to a mixed K, 1st and 2nd class because she has already accomplished everything a kindergartener is supposed to know to get out of kindergarten. She is already writing complex words and doing math and using circular logic on me. She is stubborn and strong willed and is more like her mother. Oh, she is shy, at first, then watch out.

She is still small enough that I can pick her up and hug her and carry her around. Ahhh and Sigh.

My Dad is a carpenter now, he builds things out of Trex, which is not goddamn plastic wood. He is like 100 years old and can carry small cars on his back and if he somehow slices an artery he just spits on some dirt and packs mud in the wound until it heals.

My mom is a bookkeeper in a grocery store. And a checker. All most all of the customers are rude to her and her feet hurt. She is 100 years old and works 6 days a week.

My one brother, he knocked up this girl he had just broken up with (magically, even though he was using a rubber and she was on 2 types of birth control). She had a daughter. So my brother has a daughter and he loves her to death. Really cute girl, definately has my families genes, and a bit of her mothers. So my brother gets to see her all the time and she rules the roost. My brother has a new girlfriend now, and she is really cool (so thinks I).

My other brother, he does stuff, I guess. I don't think he has had what most people call a "real job" in 10 years. He works with my dad sometimes, does some shit on his own, sometimes, and if he actually does the work you are paying him for he does a fantastic job, it's just getting him to do it. Mostly he sits in bars and plays poker, and sharks people at pool, and I guess he must do other things, I don't really know. I know he hangs out a lot, but where and what, that, my friends, is the mystery. He still lives at home.

Uh, randomly speaking, my one Aunt is in the Honorable representative of the beautiful 36th (36?) district to the House of Representative. She is working the system from the inside now. My Brother-in-Law is an elevator Mechanic and apparently escalators are the deadliest mechanical device known to man. My nephew makes websites, my other nephew supports car dealers, my other nephew is a gym teacher at an elementary school and hunts for ducks. My other nephew is still in school, but also shoots ducks and shit in his spare time. My other nephew is not going to school, or working, or doing much of anything but sleeping.
There are other people, I am just talking, you know...

You wanna nother story?

There was this cow, it started out as a calf. It had an interesting life. It was trying to be born into this world, but it was backwards in its momma's belly. A veterenarian came over and said it was breach, he could tell. He could tell because he stuck his arm (up to the shoulder) up into the momma cows puddin'. While he was all up in there, he yanked and pulled and got the calfs back legs out. They attached some chains to the back legs and hooked the chain to a winch and pulled that calf on out of its momma with a big gooshy plop.

The new cow was tan and it's front legs were all fucked up, broken maybe, but definately bent in ways that they are not supposed to be. So after the momma licked the calf clean and they bonded a bit, the little cow had boards tied to its front legs to straighten them out. They were really just boards and duct tape, but they worked. The cow got stronger and strong and was able to hobble around on its fucked up front legs and finally they took the boards off. Now it was just a regular calf/cow.

The little cow followed the bigger cows arounds and drank milk from its momma's teats... its momma had 4 teats, if it had 5 teats it would have been ABNORMAL.
So it grew, big and strong. It ate grass that was growing on the other side of the fence because that grass was better than the grass on its side of the fence. It ate hay that was dropped in bales randomly around the field. It drank water from a stream, licked a giant brick of salt, then drank more water.

Check it out, as most cows do, it had multiple stomaches, and it would eat stuff and the stuff would go into its first stomach for a little while, but being fibrous, it didn't digest or break down, so the cow would bring it back up after a while and chew it some more, then eventually it would go on down and work its way through the other stomachs.

After this happened, and as the case may be, the cow would be standing around or maybe eating or something, and it would just shit. No preamble, no going to the right place, it would just, you know, shit. Bam or plop. The shit would dry in circular discs and kids would find them and fling them like frisbees (from what I hear).

Also, right, so the cow would be standing there and all of a sudden it would get spooked. It would just be standing there and then all of a sudden it would be like "what the fuck was that" and start running. The other cows, maybe they didn't notice whatever the fuck that was, but they would see the one cow start running and they would start running too.

Sometimes it would be standing there and kids would through rocks at it or shoot it with a bb gun and if it got hit it would look up and be all like "hey" and then go back to doing whatever it was doing.

The cow got bigger and bigger, eating and shitting and licking salt and randomly running for no apparent reason and not running for apparent reasons, and sometime a BIG FUCKING BULL would come around and be all mean and shit because someone had tied a rubberband around its nutsack and its nuts would get all swollen and hang to the ground and apparently just fall off after a while. They HATE it when you do this to them. But then they can't fuck the other cows. Because, you know, who wants a BIG FUCKING BULL going around fucking your cows. NO, if you want your cows to have babies you have some dude come over and stick a tube up the cows puddin and blow some bull semen way up in there... sigh...

Anyway, our little cow ate and ate and got bigger and bigger and was so gently. It would give you big cow licks with its big cow tongue and you could pet it and throw rocks at it when it came over towards you to be pet (they were actually dirt clumps that would EXPLODE when you through them at (and hit) cows.

One day, after a while, the cow was sitting around eating and shitting and this dude came driving up in a small dump truck. He went over to the cow and checked her out, patted her on the side, made sure there weren't no festering open wounds and that the cow was generally healthy. They he took out his big ass revolver and shot the cow through the brains. And the cow was dead.

Postlude:
So the dude with the truck would come over to where the dead cow was laying, right, and he would tilt the dumper on his truck back, and tie a chain to the cows back legs and winch him up into the truck to take him off for butcherin'. Poor little cow started her life winched out of his momma by her hind legs, and left this mortal coil winched up by his hind legs.
I think I ate some of her.

It's more a question of feeling than it is a question of fun

The house is quiet now, except for the Smiths, which I find soothing music to blog to. Meat is Murder, as a matter of fact.
I am alone, is what I mean to say. But that's not really true either. I am the only human in the house. Wife is off practicing some beautiful duet of some sort with her friend, then off to school with her. The kids are in school and I haven't had a call from the nurse telling me that the little viking misses her ma and pa, at least not yet.
I am the only human (see above) but I have the pleasant company of two cats and two dogs. The dogs, Chewie and Yoda, they hang out here during the day, licking each other, sleeping and occasionally coming to check on me. The Cats, who are apparently called Archie and Frankie, are around here somewhere. I am trying to hate them since they are cats and all, but when noone is looking I will actually pet them. One of them will come along eventually to harass me, try to sit on my lap or next to me, staring and trying to be adorable and shit...
But, for the sake of argument, and irregardless of what I just said, lets say the house is quiet and I am alone.
OK, fuck it... I lost it now... I have switched to the Arctic Monkeys and am gonna just freestyle it, OK? Will that be ok with you?
Lets go into Random Mode:

I want one of those! No, not the chick, the thing she is holding, and to be outside, by a lake, with it... I want to be happy, outside with a tiny little PC. Someone go and get me one...
*********
Hey, Sunshine (sorry, don't have a nickname for you so I am gonna use your real name, hope that doesn't blow your cover). Hey, though, listen to the Arctic Monkeys. For real. I can hook you up if you want. They say things like this:
Now then Mardy Bum
I see your frown
And it's like looking down the barrel of a gun
And it goes off
And out come all these words
Oh there's a very pleasant side to you
A side I much prefer

It's one thats laughs and jokes around
Remember cuddles in the kitchen
Yeah, to get things off the ground
And it was, up up and away
Oh, but it's right hard to remember
That some day like today when you're all argumentative
And you've got the face on
*********
When me and my lovely wife were first married, and maybe even before that, we used to go to bed at night. It was a ritual, we would go to bed together every night. And I would lay there on my back, and she would cuddle up on me, put her head on my chest, I would have my arm around her, and it was very pleasant. She would pet me, just all gentle and loving like, you dig, and we would lay there. Oh, and we would talk, and I would tell her stories. I had a ton of them back then. I would lay there and maybe I would ask her if she wanted to hear a story or maybe she would ask me to tell her a story, I don't remember, but somewhere in there I would make up a story for her. She would be very quiet and just listen and we would lay there. I am trying to remember how it goes, but I think it was something like this...
Once there was this worm. He was a happy little worm, all wiggling around and digging through the dirt. To get through the dirt the little worm would open his little mouth and just start eating, and out the other end would come worm poop. This is pretty normal and all, and worms all over the world are doing it. So this little worm was happy and just eating and moving through the good earth. Every once in a while he would find himself at the top of the dirt and would kinda wiggle here and there until he found a good spot to point his head downwards and start eating again, which, as you see, would move him down through the dirt. He did this, you know, day in and day out, getting nutrients from the the dirt and the poop that he would inevitably end up chomping through. Yeah, man, dirt, poop, old apples that fell on the ground, old playboys that some kid stole from his uncles collection and ended up burying so he wouldn't get caught, yeah, he chomped through them all... One day he happened to be chomping through this old dudes yard, which was still cool, cause he did good things for the lawn, aerated it and shit, you know... anyhow, we was chomping along and it started to rain. It made the ground hard to move through and he was getting way too moist. Worms like to be moist, but not too moist, understand? So he made his way to the top of the lawn and kind wiggled and wiggled and finally found himself off of the grass and onto the sidewalk. He saw some of his buddies there, they also wiggled out of the grass and onto the sidewalk.
There weren't nothing to do but wait it out, and try to stay out of puddles, he knew this. He saw one of his buddies crawl into a puddle and thought to himself, oh no! But he couldn't really say anything. Worms can't shout out like you and I do, so his buddy went into the puddle and was finding it hard to move so he just twisted around. Our worm, he was smart and stayed out of the puddles, and just kinda layed there, waiting for it to stop raining. Then some kid came and stomped on him. And he was dead.

You can't handle the truth...

Now, most of the time I am a pretty understanding kinda dude, you know, I just sit here and mind my own business... when I am on the bus I make sure not to make any sustained eye contact or have any actual conversations with anyone, that would be rude... If someone has to cram their ass into a tiny spot on the seat next to me I make sure to scrunch up in the opposite direction from them, you know, so to avoid any prolonged ass to ass contact...
But sometimes, you know, you are just in one of those moods... one of those moods where the wrong thing happens at the wrong time and you just can't contain yourself...
Since my hands are registered with the FBI as weapons of mass destruction, and because of all my training as a top secret operative, I like to think that I am able to maintain myself better than most... it would be easy enough to give some wise ass a judo chop to the jaw, maybe a quick sharp shot to the eye socket or the touch of death or something, but I don't... don't want to draw attention to myself any more than I already do...
So, the other day, I was sitting on the bus, just minding my own business, and we had just about reached my stop... I started gathering my shit together when I suddenly felt this grinding on my toes... I looked down and the dude sitting next to me had decided to shift or something and ended up stepping on my Vans... not just stepping but grinding... I looked at him, tried to keep it soft, no need to give him nightmares... He looked at me and had the balls to say to me:
"Watch where you are putting your feet!"
He may have been kidding, he had kind of a smile on his face... or he may have been a complete asshole, maybe it was a smirk... fucker!!!
I almost made a fist, almost, but I know better than to make a fist unless I am fully prepared to use it... and I hadn't decided whether or not to kill him yet, which is odd as I usually make those decisions in a split second...
Then I realized his foot was still on top of mine. I looked down, he looked down, he was still smiling, and he slid his foot forward... actually slid it across mine... until his leg was fully stretched out into the aisle...
For one reason I had decided to let him live, so I grabbed my stuff and made my move to leave, but he had his leg out in the aisle so I had to kinda hitch around it... he was still smirking... so I headed down the stairs and I heard him chortle... WTF?!?! THE FUCKER ACTUALLY CHORTLED AT ME!!! HE WAS LAUGHING AT ME!!! NOBODY LAUGHS AT ME!!!
I stopped at the bottom of the stairs, the chortle ringing in my ears, and the bus pulled out... I looked down, looked at my shoe... it was scuffed... Aaargghh... I looked at my left hand (swift), then I looked at my right hand (justi)... They were fists... I put them together, thumb to thumb... SWIFTJUSTI is said (didn't have enough room for the "C" and the "E", but I knew it spelled out swiftjustice, and they had proved it more than once)...
I took off running after the bus, fists furiously pumping, but not in a good way... the bus had a good lead on me and I got stopped by a couple traffic lights, but there, up ahead, I saw it stop and the fucker got off the bus... He crossed the street in a crowd, he was moving at a pretty good pace... I followed him, was tracking him... I saw him go into a building, I saw the elevator lights blinking off the floors, he got off on the 8th floor... I couldn't wait for the next elevator so I ran up the stairs, all lickety split...
I busted out the door on the 8th floor and looked to the left and right... there were a couple ladies up there, they were staring at me... they could smell my rage and sweat and it excited them... they reached out for me but I slid past them in the most likely direction, through a glass door (literally, through it) and left the tinkling sound of shattered glass behind me... I saw him turn a corner... I ran after him... He walked into an office, I walked in behind him... Swift caught him from behind, right on the back of the head behind his ear... this spun him around... Justi caught him under the jaw and his head snapped back... I made the touch of death, but decided that would be too quick, so I changed to monkey claw and ripped his throat out... there was blood everywhere... the momentum had driven him back a few feet so I did flying judo kick to his stomach and sent him through the window and down 8 stories... I am pretty sure he was dead... HA!
I put swift and justi away and wiped my hands on my pants... I came down pretty quick, thought of unicorns or something soothing like that... I thought about going and finding them girls that were out in the lobby cause killing dudes always makes me horny, but I decided I should probably not... I felt calm but I might still be too amped up and would end up hurting them with my savage love... so I decided to go to work...
I was heading out the way I had come when I heard some sobbing coming from one of the offices... I looked in and saw this nice older man sitting there with his head in his hands, crying all alone... it was pitiful... so I stooped to see what the matter was, maybe he needed someone killed, and I was still kinda in a killing mood so, you know...
So I stopped to talk to him and he opened up the floodgates... cried and cried... I was starting to feel kinda disgusted with him when he finally got to the heart of the matter... he was having trouble pleasing his wife... he really loved her but she needed more than he was able to offer... but he was busy and could never really get into the groove, you know... and he had heard of things, like technique, but really just didn't understand... I was amazed...
It is one thing to use my killing skills to teach someone a lesson, but now I had the opportunity to use some of my softer skills... my LOVE skills... so I sat down and drew some pictures, kinda acted out some scenarios... had him do some visualization... then taught him the monkey technique and the airplane... told him about the helicopter but told him that it might be a little advanced so not to try it without stretching first... then I taught him the hedgehog... he was amazed!!!
He was also really really grateful... he told me that if this worked out he wanted to make it up to me somehow... I asked him if his wife was hot, and if so how about some pictures... he suggested no... but I gave him my number anyhow and told him to give me a call...
A couple days later he called, said it worked FANTASTIC and his wife had never been so satisfied (and sore)... "good for you!" I told him...
Then he made me an offer, offered me a job... a good job, in his office, with a 25% raise in pay, health insurance that would save me $800 a year, and 25,500 stock options for when his company goes public...
How could I refuse... I couldn't... I start on the 2nd...
So the secret is out... there you go...

...center of the known universe is in my crotch

So I was sitting on the couch last night, minding my own business, watching Alton Brown, since it was around 7pm. My old lady came and sat down next to me. It was nice. I believe I said something wildly entertaining about jelly rolls or cinnimon buns or something, but got no response. I looked to me right, where my old lady was and she did not look especially happy, and when I say she did not look especially happy I really mean she looked mean and unhappy. I looked away. I looked back. In my tenderest, most sympathetic, loving and understanding voice I asked her if something was wrong.
She turned towards me and spit in my eye (SHE SPIT IN MY EYE, MAN!!! SHE SPIT IN MY FUCKING EYE!!!).
"Look Asshole," she started, "why don't you go to hell!!! I don't want to talk right now, m'kay?!?!"
I looked away.
I sat quietly and didn't move, let the spittle run down my face. I tried not to pout. I am pretty sure I didn't. I tried to act normal. When a commercial came on I went and hid in the kitchen, ate some chocolate, drank some Airborne. When the commercial was over I tip-toed back into the livingroom and gingerly sat my ass on the couch. Did the same thing on the next commercial.
I don't remember what Alton was doing (oh, yes I do, he was making pot-stickers, yum!) because I was busy thinking about what I could possibly have done. The list was long and full of paranoia.
Maybe I didn't help out enough around the house, was my first thought.
Maybe she has a thorn in her paw and can't get it out.
Maybe she is going to leave me for someone cuter and more successful and with a more fantastic package than me (yeah, right).
Maybe she spent all our money on orphans or midgets or firefighters or orphan midget firefighters and is trying to figure out how to tell me.
Uh, maybe this and maybe that... it went on and on.
Time passed and we got the kids ready for bed and I was all paranoid that maybe I should get them ready and in bed and stuff so as not to piss her off any further... but she did it (I helped by using commanding words on the kids)...
I was super sleepy at this point and wanted to go to bed, but there was laundry to fold and other stuff to be done that I didn't want to do, but if you have read this far you probably can guess that I figured that I should do something more... but I decided to go to bed anyhow.
I stood around indecisively, trying to make my move for the soft comfy bed, I decided to go for broke and appologize for being an asshole and not helping out enough.
"Sorry I didn't help out more around the house." I said, "I will try not to ruin your evening again by being a lazy good for nothing asshole."
She looked at me like I was a complete moron.
"You think I am mad at you, don't you!" she hissed at me.
"Yes." I muttered back at her with puppy dog eyes all eyeing the floor.
"You think you are ultimately responsible when I am unhappy, don't you?" she hurled at me.
"Well, yes." I mumbled (because I already muttered earlier).
"So, when I am happy it is all because of you also, huh?" she asked with some sort of emotion that I can't come up with a word for.
"Of course." I answered...
I proceeded to try to explain to her about how the universe revolves around me by making circle motions around my head indicating that the universe eminates out from my head into the infinate beyond. My head being the center of the known universe... So if someone around me is unhappy it is obviously that my universe is not functioning properly... If someone is happy, though, it is generally just an accident... I believe I actually told her that, yes, if she is happy it is also because of me, because I am of the opinion that it is my job in life to try and make her happy and safe and secure...
The funny thing is that she believes that she is the only one capable of making herself happy or unhappy... Heh, just heh... I guess my moves are pretty sublime, eh?
But really, yeah, I generally believe that if someone is unhappy around me that either:
A) I pissed them off or did something to make them unhappy.
B) I need to do something to make them happy or assist them in making themselves happy (as I have been explained, noone can make anyone else happy, they have to make themselves happy).
And it is probably true, assist is a better word than make, but you know, I am hard coded to respond in situations where there is unhappiness or bad vibes floating around... First instinct is to hide, to be honest. Second instinct is to compensate. Third is to actually take some sort of action.
Where did this leave me last night? My wife laughed at me (I prefer to think that I made her happy again) and told me not to piss her off again tomorrow. I can live with that.

Editors Note:
I took some creative license with these events. There was no actual spitting involved and I don't recall ever actually having been called an asshole by my lovely wife. Or being spit at by her.
The part about the universe eminating from my general head area is not actually completely honest. It actually eminates from my crotchal aread... it's all about the crotch area...

Editors Note Also:
I had words with my brother-in-law yesterday and he mentioned that he and his wife had wondered how it is that I can be so damn supportive and fantastic to my wife and let her do so many things... I think I said "I don't know" to him but mentioned this to my wife and told her that if I appear to be so it is because I love her and want her to be happy and fulfilled... just thought I would mention that...

Editors Note for Yesterday:
It was noted that there was only 1 midwife at the little vikings birth.
That may be a matter of words, though... There was the doula.. There was the midwife, who was the wife of a chiropractor... and there was her student, who was blond and canadian and didn't appear to be wearing a bra... and the mother-in-law... and Bob Marley... for real...

Killer on the rampage

OK, where was I? Oh, yes, so I killed my first man back in 1977. I was 8. I was cleaning my gun (it was a .22), drinking Mountain Dew, and listening to Kiss... Dude came up, was wearing a cowboy hat with one of those feather roach clips hanging off of it... He smelled funny.
He stood there watching me for a while, eating all my green M&M's (I kept them apart from the other colors, was saving them to give to the girl down the street)... I think I said something like "HEY!" but he just laughed.
His teeth were stained with chocolate.
Then he took a drink of my Dew.
Again, I said "HEY!" but this time very menacingly and he stopped. He had a little smile on his face as he slowly let the Dew dribble back into the can, all backwashy with chocolate and spit.
I would like to say that everything went blank or I suddenly saw red before my eyes, but even back then I was showing the signs of a natural born killer. I would like to say it was an accident, but it wasn't. I was very deliberate. Took a single bullet, loaded it into the chamber, looked him in the eyes and pointed the gun at him. He laughed at me, he laughed. I can't believe he laughed at me. Nobody laughs at me, nobody.
I stayed cool and kept looking him in the eye. He didn't believe that I would or could do it, his expression never changed. Didn't change until I shot him in the jaw.
The trouble with .22's is that they really don't pack the punch I wish they did. Sure, the dude was fucked up, but there was just a little blood, a little hole. And he was still alive. I knew then that I couldn't go back and I really didn't want to.
He looked confused about what had happened and he watched me load a couple more rounds into the gun. He was probably making some sort of sound, but like I said, I had the makings of a real natural born killer and we don't really notice things like that... I remember the smells, the feel of the wind, the recoil of the gun, but not much about the victims. People call them victims, I prefer to think of them as "winners". Here's your prize motherfucker, I like to say. This really confuses them. I like people (sorry, the winners) to be confused before they die. I think they go to a better place this way.
Anyhow, I loaded up and then unloaded into the dudes skull. Killed him.
Didn't go through his pockets or nothing, just drug him down to the gravel pit, dug a shallow grave, shoved him in it, covered him up, then pissed on it. Kinda like marking my territory or something. I don't do that anymore. The peeing.
I've probably killed a couple dozen (who am I kidding, more like 50+) men since then, some for money, some for fun... I kill the ladies all the time, heh, ladykiller. But really, yeah, I don't have any trouble taking the ladies down. I like to get creative with him, act out little scenarios, you know. Sometimes I pretend like they broke my heart and act all hysterical before I whip out my gun.
"I love you!!! I love you with all my heart and soul!!! HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME??? HOW COULD YOU??? You pretend like I don't even exist!!!"
I like to throw the "..don't even exist" part in there, since they don't know who the hell I am it seriously fucks with their heads. I usually let them start babbling about this before I put the gun to their lips and shush them... "Shh.." I whisper in their ear, stroke their hair a bit, run the gun down their chest to just over their heart and pull the trigger.
They typically cease to exist for me at that point. Like I didn't even really do it, or they really just disappeared. One minute I am screaming at them, the next moment they are gone... it is kinda confusing in a way, I don't get that sense of accomplishment... I guess there is always something lacking.
This one time, I had to take out a whole family of midgets... I think they were midgets, they might have been orphans, I get those two confused sometimes... they were smaller than my usual "winners"... I remember I was in a hurry... I set their tents on fire and shot them as they came running out... now that I think of it, I think they were boy scouts... which are the ones with the uniforms? Midgets? Uhh... No! I remember, I stepped in some Elephant poop and it smelled like popcorn and cotton candy! Midgets... ok, I feel good about that... So I set their tent on fire and they all came running out, screaming really high pitched... I had to crouch down to get a nice clean shot... I remember there were balloons... big red balloons, floating away and I took a couple shots at them between the killings... this one balloon, I shot at it, and it didn't pop, it just kinda jumped, and floated away on the breeze... sometimes I think I see it, just ahead of me, going down the street... I think about following it, but, you know, I don't believe in dreams and I fear where it might take me.
This one time I shot a hunter... I thought that was kind of Ironic, but it might have been a simile... or a pun or something...
I know, I know, you are probably thinking, uhhh, that's kind of a reach there, but what I didn't mention was that I was wearing a Rabbit suit... get it? That's funny.

Cleaning up...

It was still raining out, down down down fell the rain.
She stood in the rain outside the shop where the gypsy was, looking for her car. She was always losing her car, she always blamed it on the idiots that design parking lots like this. It was never her fault, although it WAS always her fault. The lot really only held about 20 cars tops, and it was only half full, and there was only 1 baby blue car in the lot, and she was standing right in front of it, but for some fucking reason, she could just not see it. Oh, she found it after a while, but damn...
She dug in her pocket for her keys, front right, where she normally kept them. Not there. She checked her other pockets:
Right front, nothing.
Right rear: a napkin and a straw.
Left rear: another straw and some sugar packets (they were rapidly getting damp from the crap in her pants, really soaking it up, although she would not realize this and later she would take them out of her pocket when she went to wash her pants, leave them laying around until they eventually got dry again, and then use them when she ran out of sugar for her rice krispies one day)
So, no keys, what the fuck. She went to her car and looked in the window. Yep, there they were, right there in the ignition. Damn!
She stood there getting wetter and wetter. White shirt turned transparent, and apparently, whatever it was that she had stuffed her bra with was VERY absorbent and being absorbent like this, it was absorbing all the water coming down on her. And getting heavy. And big. The weight was forcing her "boobs" down down down. She looked at her boobs pointing south and thought to herself "everything is always on the way down" and she thought of this phrase, which she really didn't understand, but wanted to apply to the situation, "everything that rises must converge". Yes, she thought to herself, it must converge. She felt very deep at that moment, although she was completely wrong, the phrase had nothing to do with her current situation, she was using it completely wrong. Stupid.
She thought about what to do, thought long and hard... She thought to herself that most people would get completely pissed in this situation and do something angry, maybe she should try that. So she banged on the roof of her car. Then she hit her window. Then she shook the car. Then she yanked on the door handle, and the door opened. Oh, she thought, how funny, and she got on in.
She started up the car and cranked the heat up. It had already been steamy in there, but now it got really steamy and smelly. Like a tropical dung heap or something. Steam was rising from her jeans, she itched between her toes (she had an itch, she didn't reach down and itch) and whatever it was she had stuffed her bra with began to rapidly dry (what the hell was that stuff)... She wiped a small hole in the fog on her windshield and went home.
Finally home, she drug herself inside. What a day. She tried to be friendly with her neighbor but she was really old and said mean things and held her nose and made the evil eye at her. This was pretty normal.
She got to her door, unlocked it, and cracked the door, just a little bit. Everytime she came home her cat tried to escape. She was an indoor cat, she told herself all the time, and would never survive in the outside world. Actually the cat would do just fine, she just wanted to escape and find a nice family to settle in with, oh well.
So she cracked her door open, and pushed the cat back with her foot. The cat scratched and hissed and did its damnedest to get out, but was kinda overwhelmed by the stench and ended up backing away.
She got in, closed the door and sighed. It was still early in the day, but she felt the day was done.
She went in and started peeling off her wet clothes. Starting with her shoes. She sat on the couch and had to work at them, the laces were wet and all knotted up, she squirmed and squirmed, staining her couch in the process. No big deal, when she discovered it she would just flip the cushion over, and find an even bigger stain on the other side, so she would flip it back over again and think about getting a new couch.
She got her shoes off, and started peeling off the rest of her clothes. Shirt came off just fine and she threw it into the washing machine. She pulled her bra off and threw that in too. Whatever it was that she had stuffed her bra with was completely dry now, and stuck to her skin, a few inches below her tiny little titties, like some sort of papier mache (say it, Pah-pee-eh Mah-shay). She pulled at it and a couple layers came off, but the base layer was stuck tight to her skin, like a patch. Hhhmnnn...
The peeled off her pants and took everything out of her pocket. 2 straws (check), a napkin (check), some sugar packets (check), and layed them on the dryer. Threw her pants in the wash. She pulled off her panties. They were kinda stuck to her, and by kinda stuck I mean that she was able to pull down from the sides and they turned inside out, but the crotch stuck to her. She had to bend her legs out to the sides a bit and pull at the same time. It sounded like someone pulling a boot out of the mud and they came unstuck from her. They were, of course, full of poo. But at least it was a solid mass and little bits didn't fall on the floor. She threw her panties in the wash. She threw some detergent in (Baby soft detergent, which really doesn't clean worth a shit) and started the washer on up. Unfortunately (as she would find out in a few days) she left the lid open and the water level was on low, so all that happened was the water came up to barely cover the clothes and then just sat there, getting all soupy. Chunky even. And even after she found this out and washed them for real the next time, the damage was done, her favorite pants in the world forever had a funny smell to them (funny to her) and were kinda crisp and rough.
She had to walk all funny to the bathroom, she was all itchy and pooey and stuff. She took a good long look at herself in the mirror. She was kind to herself, but she remembered how good she looked after the spa treatment in heaven and thought that maybe, just maybe, she should try to clean herself up a bit (well, besides getting the poo off and trying to get the "whatever it is she stuffed her bra with" stuff that was stuck to her off. She started up the water to fill the tub and watched over her shoulder, the cat would normally come running to attack her when she did this (cat would come up and launch itself, claws a blazing, at her ass, trying to find the fish, yo)... Sure enough, the cat came running, really tearing it up, launched herself into the air, looking like some sort of furry missile, eyes full of fire and claws glinting in the light. Then it got a confused look on its face (in mid-air). Claws disappeared, body started twisting, eyes frantic with fear and/or disgust. The momentum was too great and it had twisted just enough to that it smacked sideways into her dirty ass. She landed and ran away. She would never be the same, couldn't bring herself to lick herself clean (gross) and even after trying to rub the crap off every available corner in the apartment, there was still come left, which was left to dry and cake up and stink forever more. Stupid cat.
She got into the tub while it was still filling and layed on back. Let the water do the work she thought to herself. she sat back and closed her eyes as the tub got fuller and fuller.
Good news: The "whatever it was that she had stuffed her bra with stuff" absorbed the moisture and came loose from her skin, actually floated away.
Bad news: Other things also came loose from her skin (poo) and floated to the top.
She didn't open her eyes for a good long time, turned the water off with her foot. When she DID finally open her eyes she could see shit (literally) floating in the water around her (pieces of undigested lettuce, some noodles, other plain old brown pieces). She was like an island and the shit was like so much flotsam and jetsam (not the band, although they do suck ass) washing up on the shores of her skin. She let it, for a while. But the water was kinda, well, not so clear, kinda grey and dirty, so she finally did the right thing, and got on up and let the water out. She stood there watching the water spiral on down the drain, slowly, very slowly. The drain was getting clogged with shit. She had to reach down and keep pulling shit away from the drain so the water would go down. In the end she was left with, well, shit, littering the tub. Chunks were still stuck to the drain, and as she stood there, more was falling off of her. Damn!
So she started up she shower and tried to wash it all down, out of the tub. This didn't work so she eventually had to turn off the water and wipe it out with some toilet paper and throw it in the toilet.
She got back into the tub and started the shower back up. She grabbed some soap and a loofah and started scrubbing, she was like a woman possessed all of a sudden. She scrubbed her ass until it shined (shine on you crazy diamond). She scrubbed her beaver till all the klingons were gone. Top to bottom she scrubbed herself clean. She grabbed the rust shaving device she had sitting there, soaped up her pits and shaved them clean. Perfect and smooth, didn't cut herself or nothing.
This was about where her attention to detail stopped.
She soaped up her legs (and her toes, hey, no big deal, people get hair on their toes) and started scraping. Shaved her toes, then up one calf and then the other. Toes ended up hair free, one calf was relatively hair free, somehow she completely missed the very front of both shins so there was a stripe of hair running down them, top to bottom, missed her actual knee caps (got above and below, and around most of one of them, but the other still had a patch of long hair just sitting there. DUDE, she completely skipped her thighs. what the fuck! Wouldn't really be a big deal, as far as most people are concerned, but she hadn't done any maintenance in so long they were actually pretty hairy, in a bad way. Very bad.
she remembered how clean she had looked "down there" after the angels had gotten done with her, so thought she would give it a go. It took her a while to figure out the logistics, but eventually got all soaped up and in such a position as would allow her to reach, She started WAY on back around the taint (look it up) and started scraping. She was careful, but damn there was a lot of hair "down there". She had to make multiple passes. She got over there... and over there on that one spot. Up either side of her flinky, right down the middle of the flink, got nice and smooth all deep down there. Mostly.
She was just left with a savanna there right on top, like a tropical rainforest (I think I mentioned, not really like a savanna)... She took a moment to visualize the art she wanted to create. She got all soaped up and dug on in. Started on the left, right in the hip socket, and started shaving, slowly working her way towards the middle, visualizing an imaginary line running from her belly button down (although she didn't really need to use her imagination as she had a happy trail running from her belly button on down, which she would neglect to do anything about). But instead she used her imagination. She got a nice straight line on the left then started in on the right, same as the left, in the hip socket. She was like Michael Jordan or something, tongue hanging out, concentration on her face, sweat on her brow... total focus. Scrape, rinse, scrape, rinse, repeat... Slowly a nice landing patch was taking shape (should have gone with a dainty triangle, but hey, that's just my preference) and eventually she had it all ship shape. A nice patch of hair, completely vertical, perfect (although the hair that was left was itself at least two inches long and could probably be formed into a mohawk). And just in time too, the hot water was running out. She took one last moment to rinse herself off and turned off the water. There were pubes ALL OVER the tub. Clogging the drain, again, but she just left it.
She got out and dried herself off, enjoying the feeling of the air reaching places it normally didn't. Cool and breezy. Ahh, soft... she wished she had someone to show, someone that might appreciate it...
She patted herself a couple extra times, you know, just to make sure she was completely dry, and decided to take a look at herself in the mirror. She didn't notice the happy train coming down from her bellybutton, or the hair on her thighs. Didn't notice the line of hair going down the front of her shins. All she noticed was were there used to be a forest was down an almost completely denuded landscape... Something didn't look right though. She marked it up to just the shock of seeing her bare skin for the first time since she was a little girl, although I know what the problem is.. It's plain as day...
She did a fantastic job, and really I am proud of her, but she is off center. Instead of having a nice strip straight down the center, she is off to the right a bit. Dead center is about a fingers width off to the left. Sure, it was completely vertical, crisp precise lines (although, really girl, trim it down) but the symmetry was all off. Made it look like she was lopsided or something...

More Damn Story

OK, Goddamnit...
She went to the gypsy that morning because she had had a dream. In her dream there had been a gypsy. A classic kinda gypsy, with the colorful head scarves and a tambourine. The gypsy had been dancing and shaking her tambourine and making all sorts of racket, and while she was dancing and making a racket she had been singing a song. The song was haunting, reminded her of a birthday song her crazy aunt used to sing to her when she was little. Something about roses being worth more dead than alive, probably something about thorns, and blood... Happy Birthday, yo!!!
She woke up to her cat attacking her, maybe not so much attacking as much as trying to dig through the blanket to get to the fish she could smell hidden beneath... Stupid cat clawed and clawed, sharp pointies sticking through the blanket and the sheet and straight into her thighs.
She went to slap at the cat but the cat wasn't having any of that, she could smell blood now, so she hissed in the way that cats have a habit of doing. So she used her pillow, all balled up, to WHOMP the cat off the bed and into the corner... Lucky for her the cat was dazed from the shot. That was the extent of her luck for the day.
She took a shower, but really didn't do any of what most people would call "hygiene". She just kinda stood there and randomly turned in the water. Water ran here and there, kinda, but didn't really make it into the crevices that really needed it. Her bush overflowed, like a rainforrest... and like a rainforrest most of the rain was deflected by the outter strata, never really making it to the forrest floor, well, maybe it was a little damp, but not a cleansing rain, you dig... End result was that it was damp and humid and ripe for the intrigue of rot... Stank, you dig...
Pat pat pat went the towel when she got out of the shower, pat pat pat.
She had meant to think about her dream when she got in the shower, but all she really did was breath, and breathing precludes thinking... But she remembered now, a little something something, about a gypsy. She wondered where she could find a gypsy so she could ask her what it all meant.
She went about her day. She got dressed, stuffed her bra, scratched her thighs (she had little red holes where the cats claws had been, and pimples, on her thighs).
She ate some spinach dip on an english muffin.
She checked her AOL account.
She cleaned out the litter box, but the scooped crap into a plastic bag and put the bag by the door, with the other bags of poop by the door that she would try to remember to take down later, but wouldn't...
She went out on her porch and saw into the neighbors back yard. The neighbor was burning leaves and tires and misc other stuff and a thick cloud of black noxious smoke was rising from the pile.
She smacked her lips and decided to go to Starbucks for coffee (see, see, nasty thick noxious burn smell reminded her of Starbucks)...
She got in her car and drove on down the road, down down down the road. She went to the Starbucks and got some crappy coffee, yummm. She went outside to drink her coffee cause everyone was looking at her funny. Next to Starbucks there was a movie store, next to the movie store was the gypsy store.
Ahhh...
She picked a bad time to go walking into the Gypsies shop. The gypsy was not in the mood for any crap today.
1) Did I mention that she was a redhead and thus CRAZY
2) She was a gypsy, duh
3) She had hooked up at the lesbian bar last night, with another redhead, and sparks had flown (flewn? flied?)
4) She bruised easily and her nipples were sore and ringed with dark bruises from #3 (but it hurt in a good way, you know, like, YEAH!!)
5) Business was bad, people just didn't believe in gypsies any more and she could feel herself fading away. Being a gypsy was all she knew, what would she do if people stopped believing?

She walked in and looked around the shop, it was nice, smelled nice (for the moment)...
The receptionist stared at her like receptionists do when they are not actively ignoring you. Pretended to check the appointment book to see if there was an oppening. Of course there was. So she went through the curtain indicated by the receptionist with a tilt of her head.
She sat down at the table with the gypsy. They sat in silence, looking at each other. They were opposites, these two. As she sat there her mouth started to open and the gypsy began to tense up. Her sphincter loosened up and the gypsy scrunched up into a tight little fist... and they just stared at each other.
Gypsy: What the fuck?
Her: Uhhh...
Gypsy: I mean, really.. What the fuck?
Her: Oh, I had this dream last night, and there was a gypsy and she sang this song and it reminded me of this song that my aunt used to sing to me on my birthday. My aunt was crazy.
Gypsy: OK
Her: ...
Gypsy: So... and???
Her: Well, it really freaked me out, you know.
Gypsy: OK...
Gypsy: Now, I am going to ask you a question, and I want you to think about it, because I am not going to just sit here, with you... OK, so, tell me, what the fuck do you want.
Her: Oh, I was going to ask you, what does it all mean?
Gypsy: What does what all mean?
Her: The dream
Gypsy: The dream? What does the dream mean?
Her: Yeah.
Gypsy: It means your aunt used to sing a song to you on your birthday and you didn't really know what to make of her or the song so you somehow added a few random details on to her. You made her a gypsy. Dreams are really just random shit that pops into our heads when we are free from the restrictions of cognative thought. They really don't mean anything... for real.
Her: Oh. But what is it all about.
Gypsy: ?!?!
Her: I mean, really, what does IT all mean?
Gypsy: What does was all mean?
Her: IT!!!
Gypsy: The dream???
Her: Uhh... No... I mean, whats it all about?
Gypsy: What? The DREAM?!?
Her: Well, yeah, that, and stuff, you know, all of it.
Gypsy: I don't know what the hell you are talking about. But if I had to look into the future, if that is what you are asking me, I would have to say that you are about this close to taking a long and painful trip...
Her: REALLY?!?! Where am I going...
Gypsy: ..to HELL, TO HELL!!! Get out of here and GO TO HELL!!!

There was some serious tension in the room at this point. She could tell that the gypsy was having a bad day, but she was thankful that she was able to take the time to tell her what her dream meant. Although she really didn't understand it... But that is the way it is with gypsies, they don't give you everything, just enough for you to figure it out for yourself. It was an like a pun or something. She liked puns. She would try to figure it out on her own.

Blah, blah, blah, she went to the ocean or something, saw a flower over the edge of the cliff, tried to pick it, started falling, continued falling, etc., etc., etc...

More more more

Down down down she fell.
She tried flapping her arms a little bit, but did I mention that she was twisting and turning and such? Yes I did, so as she flapped her arms it really just exacerbated the twisting and turning, making her dizzy. Did I mention that she was going to throw up in her mouth, just a little bit? Well, that was because she was flapping her arms, etc. etc. and there you go... Turns out that when she threw up, just a little bit, it brought one of the fly's back up, which she then promptly swallowed back down. She had an nasty acidic taste in the back of her throat now, a little bit went up the back door to her nose and now there was a chunk stuck up there... Yeah...
Her life began to flash before her eyes, kinda sorta, and she thought about the time when she was little, and she went into her parents room, where she was not supposed to be, and the bathroom door was open, and she was looking through her mamma's drawers where she kept her underwear (her drawers drawer, yo), just because, and something caught the corner of her eye... She turned her head and saw her pa getting out of the shower, he was naked, and she ran away... Thats it. Thats the whole story, all she remembers of the incident. Oh, and her uncle was in the shower too... Hey, she just remembered, her pa and her uncle (not really her uncle, you dig, just this dude her dad introduced as Uncle Bob (heh, his name was really Roger, but her dad called him Bob because that is what he did so well))(they had gay sex together). Hhmmnn...
It was about right around this time that she died.
Dead dead dead she was. Nicest of the damned and all that jazz.
It happened in an instant (if you were watching) but in her death it was actually a long and drawn out process. The spa treatment she got, that was nice and relaxing, she felt quite refreshed after that, of course then she was sent down to Hell. Blah, blah, no room for her, there were some meetings, middle management in Hell decided they needed to discuss this for a while, some of them pointing out that this was no way to run a business, others of them indicating that they had mentioned in a memo that they were getting full and should do something about this, and others claiming that they had to get to this other really important meeting and could they take this offline and revisit it later and stuff like that. Eventually there were some forms to fill out and lines to be waited in and she didn't have a pen so ended up holding up the line when she finally got to the front while she filled out the form... Then she had to wait while there was some sort of processing of the form and then she was dismissed. They gave her a map, told her to go here --> X <-- . Pretty simple really, go here and stand on the X.
She stood to the left of the X, she stood to the right of the X. Nothing happened. She looked for a button or something, but for fucks sake, it is just an X. "Just stand on the fucking X" said a helpful demon as he passed on by. She went and stood next to it, figured she should just wait for a minute. Nothing happened. Her mouth fell open and she breathed for a while. She got tired and sat down next to the X. Nothing happened. She breathed some more and drooled a little bit. She layed down next to the X, right next to the X, on her back. Nothing. She had trouble breathing when she layed on her back. She rolled over... come on, come on, you can do it... she rolled a little bit, rolled a little bit, she rolled onto her tummy, RIGHT ONTO THE X... POOF...
Back to the scene of her death...
She materialized about 2 ft above the ground and hovered there for a second, just long enough for her to get her bearings, figure out where she was and look straight down at the ground... then she dropped. Down do... BAM... heh...
She layed there for a second, just thinking. Thought about her cat. Cat was probably hungry. Maybe lonely. So she thought...
Actually the cat hated her...
6 Signs that the cat hated her:
1) Rubbed her dirty cat butt in her face.
2) Pee'd in the corner.
3) Left cathair everywhere.
4) climbed up on the tables and counters.
5) Clawed the carpet up and the drapes down.
6) Was an evil stupid cat that clawed her last boyfriend in the Nuts as he was leaving (never to return)

She decided to get up. She rolled over and sat up.
Uhh she thought so "uhh" she said... she had pooped herself... what a suprise.
She was PLEASED!!! YES!!! she was right, situations like this DO result in you pooping yourself, thus, it doesn't matter if you wear clean underwear. YES!!!
It was a little victory, but she could feel that this was the start of something BIG!!! Things were going to start going her way, she could smell it...
She got up, feeling vindicated. She started her victory march back to her car. She had to walk a little funny cause she had, well, you know... And she finally got to her car and it was all misty and shit outside and she got in the car and sat right on it, you know... so she started up her car and turned on the heat and waited for it to warm up... she just sat there breathing... pretty soon it got all warm and steamy and stank... and she was starting to itch... she turned the radio on and started driving home, modern and uplifting jazz, how soothing... just the kind of music for people like her, mouth breathers with crap in their pants...
She drove back the way she had come, back back back, the way she had come, and somehow found herself pulling up and parking in front of the gypsy's shop, right next to the Starbucks and the video store... She went in but the gypsy "..was with someone" said the gal behind the counter. So she sat down and waited. The gal behind the counter lit some more incense, a lot more... it was all smokey and sweet (Chandan Dhoop) and Jefferson Airplane was playing (White Rabbit) and it was really, just super groovie...
Except it didn't really cover the stench, and since she had to wait she ended up sitting there and breathing (you dig) and started inhaling quite a bit of the smoke. She started getting a bit light headed, really...
Pretty soon the gypsy came out, all smiling and chatting with the gal she was just doing a reading for, it had been a good one, success and beauty would be hers... YAY!!!
First she noticed the smoke, and kind of waved it off as she walked the gal out the door. As soon as the door was shut she turned around, waved her hands and coughed.
"what the fuck is going on in here? Why are you burning so much incense?" She asked
"Uh, to cover the smell?" and she raised up her hand and pointed from behind it towards our hero.
The gypsy turned her head and turned her head and turned her head, and turning her head took a lifetime. Our hero sat and smiled, which was actually just breathing through her mouth and raising her cheeks a bit.
There was just a bunch of noise at that point, mostly gypsy curses and breaking glass...
The gypsy was a redhead, pale skin and psycho (duh)... completely irrational most of the time (although she WAS good at being a gypsy) she totally came unhinged when she saw our hero sitting in the corner... she could smell her through the incense and it enflamed her, like chumming the waters and working up the sharks...
Generally speaking, and in no particular order the gypsy said words like:
Fuck, get, out, you, smelly, bitch, stain, Kill, KILL, goddamn, streak, Ass, Kick, beaver, shit, throat, before, and a few other things I didn't really catch and/or can't figure out how to spell...
The breaking of the glass was from our gal tipping over the glass table in front of her as she jumped up excitedly...
Heh, part of the tirade had to do with the shit streak our hero left on the white chair she was sitting on (she was seeping)...
A lot of it had to do with the gypsy being a raging dyke and our hero really turned her off and threatened to turn her straight, and she had WAY too much invested in being gay to let that happen.
But most of it had to do with the gypsy having told her to "never fucking come back here again, I hope you take a long and painful trip you bitch"... or something like that...

I guess I had a little something after all...

Blah,
I got nothing, absolutely nothing... Well, I got something, but I think it, close my eyes and feel it, and then, when I open my eyes and set my fingers to typing it, BAM!!! I get hit ride in the face with the suckiness of it... Everything just seems so stark, I don't have that happy haze of something something that I get enveloped in when I am really in the groove... Maybe I should just type, yes, perhaps I will do that... Ya'll may want to stop right here and go do something meaningful, like spaying and/or neutering your pet...

Down down down she falls, tumbling and turning, twisting and stuff, as she leaves the summit of the high shear cliff. In retrospect the view really wasn't that great from up there, and the flower, just off the edge really wasn't that pretty and she HAD been warned by the gypsy that she was in for a long and painful trip today... funny how that works. She had time to thing about this as she fell fell fell, it really was a high cliff, so she had plenty of time. She wondered, "will I bounce when I hit the ground? or will I just land with a splat?" She thought, "Perhaps I will make a big hole and if they want me they will need to dig out around me to pull me out". Which seemed silly since they would just dig her out and have to dig a new hole somewhere else to be buried in.
"OH!!!" she thought so OH she said. "I wanted to be cremated. I wonder if I have that written down somewhere? Did I ever tell anyone I loved about my final wishes?"
But she didn't love anyone now, and noone probably loved her. If there is a funeral and people sit around talking about her they will have trouble remembering anything super. Most likely they will sit there for a minute, say something about how they figured she would go this way, take a look at there watch, counting off the tick tick tick of the seconds, then excuse themselves since they had plans and they are running late. And her cat will starve, stupid cat.

Down down down she continued to fall. "OUCH!" she thought (and ouch she said), wouldn't you know it, she got a bug in her eye. The pain caused her to suck in her breath, which resulted in one, two, three, four bugs flying into her mouth, a couple of them went straight into her lungs, such was the force of the suck she exerted. If only she had put that sucking power to use in some of her relationships, maybe she would have someone to love now, or at least someone that would miss her... But she didn't, and noone would, probably, she thought, as she hacked a bug out of her lungs and clawed a bug out of her eye...
She was trying to see the ground, far far far below her, but she still was twisting and turning and really just flopping through the air, so she could not get a bead on the earth rushing up to meet her. She could see the ground, for a moment, then the sky, for a moment, then the cliff, for a second, and something off in the distance briefly, then the ground again, again just for a moment, and so on and so on....

Oh, and it was starting to rain, and she was wearing a white shirt, and a blue bra, really trashy, really... Add some daisy dukes and it would really be a sight to behold, but she didn't have the ass for it, really didn't need a bra... "Oh my god!" she thought (and said it too, she was a mouth breather, did I mention that, so she pretty much mentioned every little thought that came into her head, and when she was alone, or even in a crowd, and she kinda spaced out, her jaw would slacken and she would just sit there and breath in, breath out, breath in, breath out (and sometimes a little thread a drool would sneak out the corner, but she usually caught it (not always though, she didn't know but this was the untold reason that some of her boyfriends had dumped her (although some of them weren't even boyfriends, just casual encounters (she told herself))))... She had been feeling a bit self conscious this morning, she remembered, and had, for a lark, stuffed her bra with whatever it is that women stuff their bra's with (dammit, what am I? a bra scientist?) and she was imagining the laughs when they did the autopsy on her, or at least prepared her for burial, when they found this stuffing...

Would they laugh more at:
1) the fact that she stuffed her bra and they caught her?
2) at her small little titties
3) at the stuffing she had used (again, I don't know what it was, but she probably used something stupid)

And she thought "OH!" again (said it out loud, etc. etc.) because she remembered that she hadn't done any "maintenance" in a while so she was REALLY hairy, here and here and especially down there. How embarrassing!!!
"OH!!!" (etc. etc.) "I wonder, if when I land, if I will poo?" Funny thing, she was a firm believer that it didn't really matter if you wore clean underwear or not because it was her belief that most accidents resulted in people pooing their pants. So, if it really got to a point where someone would be seeing her underwear it would be because of an accident and, uh, there would be poo, so how clean the underwear was did not really matter (another of the reasons that some of her "boyfriends" had mysteriously broken up with her was because of the skidmarks in her drawers (she was clumsy and expected to be in an accident daily, so if her underwear was clean it was more unusual than usual)).

Reasons "boys" broke up with her:
1) Mouth Breather
2) Dirty Drawers
3) Didn't suck enough
4) Itty Bitty Titties
5) Slept with their Dad
6) Turned Gay
7) Big Bush
8) Its not you, its me (but its really you)
9) They forgot
10) Cute midget
11) Dirty Drawers + Big Bush = Klingon's

Down down down she fell, the top of the cliff grew further and further away, the ground most likely was getting closer and closer (stands to reason)... It was a bad day... She was falling, had a bug in her eye, a few in her lungs, it was raining, she was unkempt had little boobs, nobody loved her and she was mostly likely going to die in a moment or two...
She didn't know it, but it really wouldn't be that bad... she was definitely going to die, and she was going to Heaven (yay heaven, cause that is what she believed), but when she got to heaven she wasn't going to get in. Oh, they would be kind... they would say pleasant words at her, give her a spa day where she would get shaved up and waxed down (maybe do something about that hair-do, yo)... they would give her some clean drawers, sexy ones that she couldn't have pulled off with such a mighty bush, some low riders to show off the whale tale... magical angel dust would be sprinkled on her and she would finally get the rack she always wanted... quick brush of the teeth, a pat on the ass and (imagine this) down down down she would go, down down down, to the bad place, because she believed in that too... But due to some computer problems that had caused the mouth breather ring of hell to be overbooked (she didn't believe in Dante's rings of hell, but they really are there) they didn't have room for her, besides, noone wanted to work that ring anyhow and the staff that WAS there was surly... So in this case, down down down she would go, and she really would bounce... boing!!! back to the world, the real world, really really alive and well, but all of heavens hard work would have to be undone... back to the stanky drawers, SPROING would be the sound as the mighty bush sproings back into existence, PWINK would be the sound of her fancy rack pwinking back down to nubbins, etc. etc...

But she would not know about this for a little while yet, she was not quite there... She would still had to throw up a little in her mouth, try to fly (actually flapping the arms, damn), remember the time she saw her dad naked when he got out of the shower (and she was a little girl) and wonder about why she was remembering THAT, especially NOW...
Yeah, just a little bit more, yeah baby, almost there... she's getting close, sooo close, oh, oh, come on, come on ... oooh. yeah. thats. it. right. there. FWEE FWEE FWEE FWEE Ahhhhhhhhhh... Down down down...