The spirits rise from the warm muddy earth. The lengthening nights covering their rise. The chill known by all our ancestors spreads as the sun fearfully retreats further and further away from this miserable existence.

Death gains power from the darkness and lets his shadow lengthen on the land. Time for mortals to begin their yearly test. Time for ole' Tom to make for the river.

Pestilence has laid waste to the land. The harvest lies rotting on the vine. The doors of the keep have been welded shut once again from the inside. While the Death shrieks through the fields.

Doom... Doom... Doom tolls some drum... made from some fell emanation. Doom... Doom... Dooom


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It seems so long ago... back... when life was so easy. I had settled down in front of my screen in ratty underwear, smeared with orange streaks of Cheetos of bygone days, with some warm diet Coke and some candy I had stolen from trick or treaters. I was ready for some light model tipping and mixed with caffeine induced primal carnage.

When suddenly down went the pre-vuR and I was hurtled into the dank, dark room of a goth. Her skin glistened corpse white. Her numerous face piercings gleamed in the neon light of her... room... her Room of Many Painful Sensations. Her hair was joker green. Her eyeballs were
yellow. And her teeth... why they had all been filed down into points.

"Goth what hast thou done with my previewer" I uttered, spewing Cheetos from an open from surprise mouth, uttered... in the High Tongue.

With the deep voice from the box of her Master she bellowed: STRIP OFF EVERYTHING! TAKE THE TIE OF THE MOSSY VINE. MY GANGREENYOUS PIT HAS OPENED AND MUST BE SLAKED BY MORTAL CUM. BE DIPPED, BE EATEN, BE SMOTHERED FROM ABOVE!
Pretty active for a goth. She was riled up. You could say it was her time... in a four horsewoman sense.

There are good goths, evil goths, noisy goths, quiet goths, stoic goths, and ... well you get the picture. We use the same words for things quite different and that we don't completely understand. When confronted by the abyss we reel and start to put pegs in holes and...

DO IT NOW!!!

Compelled by some other worldly force. Transfixed by green, neon light. I began the ordeal.
But please.... I cannot go on right now... I am starting to weep again. She broke something inside of me. My soul has some kind of love tumor attached now and there are tiny hickies all over me oozing some kind of mucus.

Never again will I go lightly into the screen lit room. Even now I can feel her voice inside my head ordering me to tell more the tale and to get back to her room.... again.. and again... and again....


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I never told you about my first date. You probably thought that came much later for me. But no. It was Homecoming. I was a junior. A year older than her.

Oh I had wanted her for the longest time. I was fascinated by her. She was everything that I was not.

She was so sweet but had that reputation for being a little dirty. Many of the boys had stories about her. I hoped they were true. She seemed like someone very fun to be around.

And I... I was a loner. Not by choice but by circumstance. I lived in a rural area. I had odd, but nice parents. Odd but polite siblings much older than me. I was able to grow in a quiet studious environment. To think. To dream.

But I was lonely and strange. My freedom to think had led me down odd corridors and I was so young and so wrong about so many things.

She was a little crazy about that dance. It is normal at that age. She was so nervous that she didn't eat all week. She was excited but so scared. Her mother fed all of this making the event to seem so big, so important. When I arrived to pick her up her mother scared me a little by the advice she gave me. I can't recall just the words she used but it was clear I was to be careful but definitely to sweep her romantically into something intense and passionate. She wanted her daughter to experience something that she remembered experiencing, or wanting to experience, I am not sure. She thought I was the guy to do it. I had that look. A nice guy, a smart guy, but who would deliver in that line.

Frankly I liked it. But my instincts were all wrong. I thought the important thing to do was to defuse a lot of the pressure. So that we could have fun and just be natural. Oh if only I had gone the other way. If only I had taken that night as deadly seriously as she had.

I picked her up early in my parents car. Drove to the city and had dinner. It was hours before the dance. A sign that I didn't know what I was doing. We drove back. Arrived in town hours before the dance.

It was a moonlit night. Snow had fallen. Beautiful night. Perfect for romance. Perfect for passion.

She was freaking out. Not in an unattractive way. In a cute and sexy way. She wanted it. The whirlwind romance. She thought I had planned the moment and was about to take us quickly, decisively to our destiny.

But whether from stupidity, from cowardice, or just from being a young little mutant at that age... I was determined to release the tension and turn it into a light comedy. Oh she was beautiful. Oh she was sexy. The dead surely were rising from graves all over town to come to her side as I started to play the clown. I liked her. I wanted to be with her. But it was too serious for me.

Oh how cruel I was without knowing it. Stupid gags. Juvenile behavior. Designed to make her feel at ease. But pumped by ego and perhaps some frustration at being put "on the spot" by that mother, by finding myself expected to deliver something and rebelling in a ch1ldish manner, I was as awful as you can imagine. I pretended to surprise her, and then clicked on the bright lights of the car to blind her. I played tricks with the car radio. I leaned in to kiss her and then instead went eskimo kiss. Pushing flat our noses and making one big cyclops eye. The poor girl was trapped with this clown who was making a mockery of this special night. Although it really was not intentional. I was a k1d. She was on her way to being a woman.

We went to the dance. She was a good sport and had fun though keeping a little distant from me. When I dropped her off, very early by her mother's standards, she virtually ran into the house. This surprised me. It was the first that I began to sense that all was not well.

The old b1tch appeared at the door and gave me the evil eye. She raised her hand up in a twisted fork and muttered some words in some language I could not understand, my guess is Sicillian, but I really don't know. She then cackled in an evil way that did not bode well and went back in to her poor daughter.

And from that day onwards I have been cursed. You can plainly see how. I haven't had a moment's peace with any woman. Never had a relationship that worked. No lie I tell is believed. No promise I make is trusted. I strongly suspect that every meal in every restaurant I've had has been spat in by them or worse.

And I am still hopelessly attracted to them. Can't be complete without them. Though they are perpetually too serious and too dramatic for me.

OMG! There is one coming up the stairs right now! EEEARRRRRRRRGGGGJHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!
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Add spina bifida to the horrors of flying these days... ( to those who haven't got their browsers working quite right there is a video linked in below. It is not a ghost. It is your browser. whoooooo )

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mate u get my award for 'IMAGINATION PLUS' ! Quote

mate u get my award for 'IMAGINATION PLUS' !
q

heh heh thanks. `It ain't for fun it's for survival. Gotta keep one step ahead of the threat.

Here's to another safe passage through the Straights of the Dead... And a special cheers to good ol' Tom O' Shanter who made it over that bridge with only the loss of a mule's tail.


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