Sinister: the fabulous but true, story of real life smut, posted for th e first time ever........

[rebelstrange at xxx.Miller]

A fascinating story:
i must have forgotten to tell it here when i was going over the DC tales.
its' a bit of ready-made smut for y'all to relish and mull over.
 Little Ink Movie:
Jess and Lesley Jo, a bit hungry, shvering slightly, but giddy with delight,
are sitting on a low platform in the back of the Black Cat Club.  Jo is
wistfully eyeing the pixy-licious Isobel, who dances lightly on the other
side of the room and relaxes by the pool table talking to stevie and stuart
david, and occasionally seems to glance in the girls' general direction.
But our Jo is too cowardly to walk over and make a fool of herself, despite
the urgings of her friend, so to break the tension, she suggests, "I wonder
where the restroom  is in here."  "I dont' know, lets' go ask the guy at the
bar", Jess replies.  they get up and traipse over, poor Jo hoping that
someone will notice how casually and yet, shyly, delicately, they make their
way across the dark room.  somewhere in the background, people bang on drums
and haul cases across the floor.    "Excuse me," says Jess to the bar man,
"can you tell us where the restrooom is?"  "it's the band's only,' says the
young man, "go down those stairs and to the right."  "thanks" say the girls
and head fo rthe stairs with trepidation.  Down the passageway and into the
cavernous, undecorative cement basement backstage area, they espy a door to
the right and click the light on.  "Eww.' says Jess.  "Creepy." says Jo.
there is one plain porcelain toilet, a little old sink with soem paper
towels and a soap dispenser, and a tiny shower stall at the other end of the
bare, unremarkable room.  In the shower, some shampoo, soap, and a container
of some sort of shaving cream.  "that must be their stuff" say the curious
girls. "if this is the only bathroom..."  after washing their hands, they
look with awe upon the bare-bulbed room.  "I wonder how many cool people
have used this, it should be in a museum." says Jo.  "'Barbara Manning peed
here', haha." adds Jess, refraining from mentioning the unspoken question on
both their minds...........
<add your own personal smut content here>

SMO (what does it mean ?) wrote:
>>Excuse my ignorance, but who is Monica Queen?

The girl who ruined a lovely Belle and Sebastian's song.
SAEG
escossia at electus.com.

ok i have to admit at first the ms queen's voice freaked me out a bit, but
on the other hand, Jane was the song that really seized me by the um,
neurons, shook me like a t-rex and dug its teeth into my soul, thus sealing
my destiny and intertwining it with this lovely collective of ragtag
musicians.  so i will have to step up and defend the vocal turn, as i really
do like it the more i hear it and i feel it suits the particular song well.
notice there are some B&s songs that could be categorized as fairly 'twee"
(i.e. "mary Jo")  but some that have that romping rough and tough but
soft-edged, velvety 60's texture, i.e. jane.  and many textures inbetween.
they are a fine band i must say.  although i would have to admit to my
liking, i agree with the bit in the Magnet article that calls stevie's songs
on Wonky Lap 'mawkish' or 'schmaltzy' one of those/ and spaceboy dream being
rather an intrusion.  although i kind of like spaceboy dream in its own
quirky little (albeit b-side) manner.  it has that funky thing going on that
is entertaining.     But i would prefer a sloppy take of 'Expectations" over
the slickest Spaceboy, any day.  it's just where my emotional nerve gets
hit.

digression............

, i would very
much like to thank lesley for those wonderful photos of the d.c. show.
i very muched like the rest of the home page, too.  give me your address
and i'll send you some cookies.
bye to all,
carl, who was born on january 31, 1977.

...Awww..thanks carl!!  and me, I was born on january 12 1977...making me
only a matter of weeks older than thou!  if and when you read this, I like
oatmeal cookies.
Good idea, nanette.......and i appreciated your post the other day, it was
either the one about cyberfriends, or another one i can't remember, i just
remembered it was really good.......
I have a friend who slagged me for talking online and having a computer.
she said "well at least i go out and meet REAL people in person, blah
blah..."  You know what, she doesn't either.  She's a misanthropist who
never goes out, has no friends, does nothing, even though she lives in a big
university town, she sleeps all day, and let me tell you, she has even less
of a social life than me, which is unexplainably sad,( like saying "You're
just a TAD bit more evil than Hitler").   Just because someone has email
friends and talks online doesnt' make them automatically a shut-in with no
life.   I find it interesting to correspond in words, on paper as well as on
screen, i have made my dearest friends through writing and emails and
sharing of ideas. it's just one more way of making human connections in the
world.
<end rant>

Ok, here are the mad libs so far.....i would post all of them, but i dont'
want to clog up the list too much! so i picked the 2 that made me laugh the
hardest.  and later i might post a conglomerate one, using words from all
the entrants, all the choicest words.....hmm?
the first one is from chris wirth and the next is from jim schmidt.  good
job, and keep up the smut, fellas......(though the luscious PhotoJeni added
a little smut of her own....i wasnt' sure if i could legally post that
one.....)

Twilight in the mountains just outside  Chris's ass:
The stench of dishwashing soap
 is in the air, emanating from hordes of teenage poopyheads
that have just been felled in waves.  Stuart "Whimsical Weasel"  Murdoch
grinds
 upon the  panicky carnage, throws down his pointed stick
 and falls to his knees, crying out to  Mammon in heaven.  "Damn You,
Tootsies
 of Sex!!!"  he wails.  filled with lust by  the destruction he has wrought,
he falls on his toaster oven  and ends it all.

 Twilight in the mountains just outside the tundra : The stench of tang &
vodka
is in the air, emanating from hordes of lousy  teenage pissers that have
just been felled in waves.  Stuart "Love-crazed Weiner-dog"  Murdoch grovels
upon the  funky carnage, throws down his  lead pipe
, and falls to his knees, crying out to Himself in heaven.  "Damn
You,Backbones of Sex!!!"  he wails. Filled with luscious envy by the
destruction he has wrought, he falls on his  juicer
 and ends it all.

maybe i should make it a series, and post more later. or maybe im just
boring you all wtih my silly games.....er thanks for joining in!  it was
fun.  i'll work on that conglomerate version for tomorrow....

working on my Velvet Isobel,
lesley Jo




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