Saturday, November 17, 2012

"The Sexiest Thing Ever Said To Me"

A Very Very Very Very Short Story

The train rumbled into Astoria, out from inside the tunnels. I could smell the liquor in her breath even in my sleep. We were the only two in the N line car. The red flashing prompt read 3:04am. It was a wild night hopping from bar to bar to bar to bar. Never ending.

"The next stop is...Broadway" said the announcer. The robotic voice woke me up. We were almost home. She was almost scantily clad in her little black dress covered in shame, vomit and baklava. "Babe, were almost home." I shook her.

She woke up. Groggily she stared out of the window and replied with the sexiest thing ever said to me. She replied sleepily and with a low tone: "Are we? Good, because I have to take a huge dump..."

-end

Friday, June 15, 2012

Untitled Project

Epilogue

7 months later

Jessica was one of the premiere servers on the team. One of the best. She was on the floor for the night shift along with Carlos, Louis, Janice, Tabitha and a few others. They had been serving for a while. For tonight, Jessica would be serving the back area. "Ha. That's pretty cool," she sardonically thought to herself. She chuckled lightly.

There were no gods.
There were no kings.

Terrence was finishing his lunch shift and walked up the stairs to finish his daily duties before he could be dismissed. "Rolling silverware?" asked sexy Samantha. Another top tiered server. Her hair brazen and blonde. She was beautiful. She had no qualms. "Let me help you with that." She wanted to start her shift and make her money.

There were no gods.
There were no kings.
There was no segregation.
There was no separation.

Jen, Clyde and Krystal all entered together. They had their own clique. Best friends no matter what. They had each others backs for every shift.

Miranda, the assistant manager walked up the stairs, "All right guys. Gather round and I'll let you guys know what's up for tonight." The team all huddled and Miranda whipped out a sheet of paper with the itinerary. The new guy, James, was serving for his first time. "Jessie, since you're one of our best, you'll be training James for a few hours and he'll come back tomorrow for the rest of his training."

Jessica nodded in confirmation. Veteran and apprentice both looked at each other and traded sly grins. They were both ready. The servers were all given their sections and their duties and it was time for the night to begin.

Miranda continued, "Also. Jen, I noticed you were slacking just a bit yesterday. Let's see if we can change that tonight. I'll be around if you or any of you guys need help."

There were no gods.
There was no iron.
There was no lightning.

The night came and went. Happy guests. Time sped. Songs were sung. Birthdays were celebrated. The host team were finishing their duties. They too had a newbie joining the ranks. Carmen had never hosted before and on that very same night, she was able to form a strong bond with Elizabeth, who was one of the top hostesses and a veteran in her field. She had seen everything.

Elizabeth and Carmen both watched Jessica run around trying to get everything done. Jessica led the team and was still able to have James under her wing. Elizabeth and Carmen both slipped on their jackets and left for the door. The night was cool and brisk. "Which way are you taking?" asked Elizabeth. Carmen answered, "I usually walk down Bryton Street and then I turn left." Elizabeth said with a grin, "I'm going the same way!"

They both walked together.

There were no kings.
No lords
No drones
No badges
No demigods
No hierarchy

The streets were quiet. Elizabeth had Jessica on her mind. The way Jessica scrambled late into the night, cleaning, sweeping, training, leading her team. She was good enough to become a manager if she wanted it. She had guts and knowledge. Elizabeth chuckled. Carmen looked up at Elizabeth,

"What's so funny?"

Elizabeth answered, "It's just funny to see Jessie the way she is at the job. She thinks she's an still an expert." Elizabeth continued to chuckle quietly.

There were no kings.

Carmen queried, "What's an expert?"

Elizabeth gasped quietly, "Oh yeah! I forgot you're new with us!"

"Let me tell you a little story..."

[the end]

Wednesday, June 13, 2012

Untitled Project

Part 9

It continued.
Kingdoms burned.
Towers toppled.
Kings fell.

The formerly mindless servers cried change and reform. Rebirth was necessary. The servers showed a vulgar display of a newfound power. We all witnessed the abortions of the experts' souls on the kitchen floor. Expert Number 8 shouted to the heavens where the gods lived, "They're right! This is fucked up! I don't want to be an Expert anymore!" He had forsaken his badge and demoted himself.

We welcomed him warmly into the collective elite.

It was a beautiful chaos.
Infrastructures failed. Years and years of hard work from the experts turned into a revelation of biblical proportions.

Other Experts were more purist. They cried for the regime to stay. They thought they could counter the revolution. It was futile.

The laughter continued.
The mockery continued.
The servers would not be kicked around for any longer.
It was civil war.
It was anarchy.
It was beautiful.

"You have chaos running through your fingertips," echoed Zeus. Father of the gods. King of kings. I didn't know where the noise was coming from. It was ominous. He continued. "You, good sir, hold true power. That which not even I can possess." Zeus himself flew down from his perch. He was majesty.

He was pompous dictator. He was unrelenting tyrant. We worshipped him. The servers. The experts. "We need to talk." he said in a cold dark voice. "See me after your shift." As quickly as he appeared, he disappeared.

"It was clearly because one of the experts squealed on you about what you said about them the other day." said to me Number 13. "Don't worry about it. We're all here for you," added Number 6.

They were my brothers and sisters. I loved them. The shift halted to a slow drip. The servers all did the duties that they were assigned that night. Nothing more. There was very little interference from most of the experts. They were cautious.

I continued to be sword and shield. Ever vigilant.

The Experts and I all traded stares. I could see the fire in their eyes. I was able to sense the mourning of their empire. It was falling. It was failing. Their system was flawed. They were running on E and they knew it. I was pariah. I was enemy of the state. Their stomachs churned with embarrassment.

They were being laughed at.
Mocked
Ridiculed
Heckled
Teased

As I exited the kitchen, and what used to be scribbled on the marker board words like "ha ha", "what a joke" and "experts" now read encouraging words like:

"the revolution will not die"  
"never give up"
"reform and change"

In black marker.
I was legacy.
I left my mark.
They left theirs.
We would all become forever.

The shift ended and it was time to speak with the almighty. I found myself at one of the tables and he sauntered over. King of kings. He knew his empire was falling and he knew he needed to take action.

"Hello, Mark." he said to me as he casually took his seat. I bit back, "That's Mindless Server Drone Number 2 to you." I showed no fear. He laughed lightly. "That's quite alright. It seems as though you want to cut to the chase. Very well. One of my Experts told me about what you said on the Internet. I just wanted to know what you meant by "joke". See, I raised the experts. I birthed them. You say they are nothing but a joke. Does that mean that I am a joke to you? Explain yourself."

I breathed once. "Your experts are nothing but a bunch of little mini tyrants. They serve just like me. Their only claim to fame is a shiny badge." he stared dauntingly as I spoke.

He breathed deeply. "Let me put it like this. Imagine a cancer cell. If one cancer cell gets to another healthy cell, then that cell also becomes a cancer cell. Those two cancer cell gets to four more and then you have multiple cancer ce--"

I cut him off

"Sir, I know how cancer works." I said.

"Very well," he said back in a very grandiose manner. "Allow me to put it this way, then. You're detrimental to my empire. You're efficiently destroying the kingdom that I've worked so hard to build. You get to one server, and then they infect another two. Those two will infect another four, and before we know it, the place becomes this titanic tumor of little revolutionaries wanting "change" and "reform. I'm going to give you two choices. But please choose wisely. I like you, Mark. I honestly say you have to be one of the best servers here. You make money for me. You make money for you. Id hate to lose you."

I raised my eyebrow in suspicion. "It's funny you compare this place to a cancerous tumor, because thats what this place is with the Experts running the show."

He sardonically chortled.

"Just one question. Why didn't you make me into one of your little tyrants?" I asked. He answered, "Because I knew deep inside that you were destined for much more. Something that I myself cannot provide you. You're bigger than you think, Mark. You were able to create unholy anarchy from just 5 or 6 little words!"

6 seconds of silence followed.

"Here are your two choices, Mark. I want you to leave this place and never turn back. It is clear that the Mindless Server Drones no longer need you. You gave them heart and courage. Something that if earned, can never be taken away, no matter how hard I would want to try. The Experts will rebuild themselves somehow. You won't have to worry about us. Don't consider it abandoning your fellow servers. Consider it an opportunity to seek a higher purpose."

He continued,

"Or you can stay. I'd like for you to stay as well. But if you choose to stay, you have to drop the whole "revolutionary" act and conform. You cannot speak any more words about the servers, the Experts, or about anything else that happens here to anyone. You have to shut your mouth, and fall in line. Let the Experts be Experts. Everything will eventually fall into place. In return, I can offer you a generous raise and a bonus. This, and more tables in the front sections."

I had an extremely difficult decision to make.

I left my mark.
I was game changer
I was forever
I was legacy
I was legend
I was forever

[end of Part 9]

Sunday, June 10, 2012

Untitled Project

Part 8

Words.

Words were the answer the entire time! Words would be my sword and shield. I quickly mastred the freedom of speech. I checked back at my original post, and there were 63 more replies. I bothered not to read any of them. I already knew what they were saying. I loved the attention. It was almost orgasm inducing.

I was Phoenix rising out of the ashes. It was time to go to work.

I slipped on my shirt of black, and my tie of red. I sat back down on my computer and stared at my screen. Technology is an amazing thing. I started thinking to myself, "Hm, what if I..."

I began typing. Again, out of impulse.

heading to work. Hopefully "they" don't chew us up alive again tonight. ;)

I got up out of my chair and retrieved the rest of my things. I returned to close my computer and I already got my first reply:

Expert 1: well if some people just learned to cooperate and conform with the rest of the crew, well have a smooth night. Thank you.

I mockingly chuckled. Very lightly. I left. What a bunch of pretentious bullshit. I realized what was happening. I was angering the demigods. Words were my weapons. I could have asked for nothing more. They destroyed any and all opposition. Not this one.

Realization.

If they react this way after hearing the voice of one, imagine the voice of 2.

Voice of 5.

Voices of many.

It was time to assemble my army. We needed to challenge the gods. Shut down the regime for good. It was possible. It could be done. This was the dream. I made it just in time for the directional. We would be given our duties for the night and start our shifts. The experts, of course got the better tables to serve, and thus were tipped more. The lower tiered server drones had the tables in the back.

This was where the nastiest of pigs come to feed and fester.

What a sordid little place.

The gods flew back up to the perch after handing out our duties and the night was ours. The drones walked downstairs to begin their shift, but the mob of experts stayed. I sat idly and stoic at the table mentally preparing myself for the night.

I was legend.

Expert Number 1 walked over to where I was sitting. She had a cold winter in her eyes. She read what I had said and commented. She sat down with a stiff demeanor. Experts 4 and 6 stood right behind her. They seemed to be an impenetrable force. I looked over to her nonchalantly and smiled. "So we hear you like to talk shit," she said.

I laughed.

She sighed and the other experts sighed with her. "So what's the deal? You don't like us?" She raised her voice.

I laughed harder. I couldn't keep it in. They were no longer demigods, but clowns. I could only picture Expert 1 with a clown wig and a red nose.

I laughed even harder.

She gritted her teeth and said with fierce tenacity, "Listen here, you little shit! You're not gonna make fools of us. We are better than you so you'll just have to learn to deal with that! The gods will hear about thi--" Expert Number 4 put his hand on her shoulder and said with a hushed tone, "Fuck it. Let's get outta here. We'll let the gods deal with this one."

They all walked away.

I was champion.
I was legacy.

The night was ours.

Server Drone Number 14 hadn't done anything at all. I watched him. He was doing his job, but the Experts had a different plan. I watched one of them lay down the law, yelling, scolding, reprimanding my brother for something he had not done. Lightning flashed from her voice and thunder boomed.

I was sword and shield.

I interrupted. "Hey! I was watching him! He's done nothing wrong! Back off!" The expert stopped what she was saying, and backed away. Her lips tight, and not a sound was heard. We stared and stared. She huffed, and turned around. She scurried away into the night. "Thanks a lot, man. I swear, they give those Experts a little bit of power and this whole place turns to shit!"

He continued, "I also read what you said about them yesterday. Good shit!" he turned away and continued feeding the pigs. I was able to feel a hopeful heart on him.

My revolution began.

On the marker board, what used to say "You Are Not Special" now said words like "ha ha", "what a joke!" and "experts" scribbled all across the board. Numbers were written all over. On the corner I was able to see the word "revolt" scribbled terribly. None of this was my doing. I was leading a secret coup and I hadn't even realized it. Revolt was the name of the game that night.

I left the kitchen and continued to feed the trough that the pigs ate from. I heard one of the experts try to viciously bark an order at one of my sisters. Mindless Server Drone Number 9. She stared nonchalantly and laughed playfully. She skipped away and continued what it was that she was doing.

Another one of the Experts tried to bite at another Server Drone for not having done something that could have been overlooked. "LISTEN HERE!" cried Server Drone Number 12. "THAT SHITTY LITTLE BADGE DOES NOT MAKE YOU BETTER THAN ME! I'M NOT SCARED OF YOU ANYMORE!" she composed herself, and calmly and slyly said, "Now...I think one of your tables wants you." My jaw dropped. The expert was speechless. She turned around and walked away. Number 12 smiled and giggled, and continued her duties.

The drones knew what had to be done. They were no longer mindless. It was amazing.

The Experts were losing power.
The Experts became nothing.
That night
Experts became mere mortals.
They had no lightning.
No fire.
We used to obey them.
On this night, we mocked them.

The servers and I were all one. They finally heard the voices of many. All throughout the floor, I was able to hear voices of laughter. Laughs of mockery and dismay towards the regime.

I became leader.
Without lifting a single finger.
I was Che.
I was Peron.

I made my routine rounds and I was suddenly stopped by Expert Number 3. My best friend. I loved her. The other experts know what you're doing, she said to me. I returned with a sly grin, "Who, me?" Yes! She barked back. "And since we're friends and they know that, they wanted me to talk to you. We all know that it's because of you that the Servers are laughing at us and mocking us. Not doing anything we tell them to. They don't respect us anymore! Everyone saw what you wrote yesterday."

I was legend.
I was legacy.
I was pariah.
I was enemy of the state.

I said quietly, "Remember where you came from. You used to be nothing just like me."

She sighed, "Just stop what you're doing before you lose your job."

I witnessed uprising.
History changed that night.
We were one.

Experts died that night.
On the inside.
Experts can die.

The servers saw and conquered. With relentless force.

It was the end of the shift and the Experts decided to leave early. Leaving all of the Drones and I to wrap the silverware, fold the napkins and finish all of the other miscellaneous tasks all on our own. They were all upstairs waiting for me. I slowly crept upstairs and I finally caught my breath.

They all stopped and stared with hopeful eyes. After a few seconds of silence, Number 5 stood up and started clapping, and then Number 7 and soon, there was an uproarious ovation. They cheered. They hollered. They screamed. They clapped and clapped. I began applauding back at them. If it weren't for them, we'd all still be oppressed.

That night, I became immortal.
I became forever.
My revolution paved the way for years of democracy to come.
This night would go on in history.

I was legacy.
I was revolutionary.
I was leader.
This night was the result of just a few words spoken.
The infinite power of words.
We fought.
We won.

I was forever.
They clapped.
They cheered.
They hollered.

I was forever.

[end of Part 8]

Saturday, June 9, 2012

Untitled Project

Part 7

I was conspiracy evolved.

The sun beamed hard on my face. Begging me to greet the day. I awoke and stumbled over to my computer. I was a member of a very popular social media network and so were many others that I worked with. I was friends with over 40 of the mindless drones. This was how we kept in contact outside of work.

I was also friends with some of the experts. We never spoke much outside of work. I didn't mind it. Outside of the job, they were normal people just like me. But they still had a hidden pride about them. They can read everything I write. Vice versa. News broke on the feed about a big morning experts meeting. It was supposed to have been the biggest in the city. I watched them discuss on the Internet.

"Experts meeting? The fuck is this?" I asked myself groggily.

Expert 4: going to this big experts meeting. Ugh, really don't wanna go!
Expert 2: expert meeting. I should be in bed sleeping!
Expert 6: guys does my hair? look gotta get ready for the experts meeting?

From what I read, it was a grand summit in which all of the elite in the city come together and discuss matters such as how to gain more and more power. How to maintain the iron fist and further complicate the crew and cause chaos and disarray.

It sounded like fun.

My eyes were still getting used to the light from the morning sun. I became increasingly disgusted by the messages I was reading in my news feed. My head was dizzy and my vision was blurred. I began typing on impulse:

experts. what a joke! ha!

With these words, I changed history.

Within the next 6 seconds, I received my first reply. It was from one of the head experts. I hadn't even realized that there were "heads". It read:

Expert 4: this is coming from someone who wanted to be one! don't hate!

I chose to stay quiet and the numerous replies started pouring in from more and more experts.

Expert 5: really, dude? Come on. Not cool.
Expert 2: you're just mad because they didn't let you be one.
Expert 6: smh you're such a lame. lol
Expert 1: aww u tight becuz u not an expert
Expert 9: y u mad tho?

I remained silent through the entire debacle. Not typing a single word. And I received one more reply:

Expert 3: if someone had pushed themselves harder, then he would have been joining us here right now. He's not elite like the rest of us.

She was my best friend. I loved her. We were a team. We were supposed to be immortal together.

But I laughed.
I laughed hard.
Harder than I have ever laughed in my life.
I couldn't breathe.

I laughed at the blasphemy. No one deserved to become forever more than me. I knew this. They knew this.

I started from nothing.

I was able to see through them. What they were all about. They were about more than just glory. They were evil and corruption. They were police. They were underlings for the gods and nothing more, I wanted nothing of it.

I felt the backlash and I loved it. I laughed even harder. Into a frenzy. I was then able to appreciate what amazing things few words can do. I realized in a flash what I had done. Almost the entire expert collective read what I wrote that wondrous morning.

I was able to picture it right then and there. The experts sitting at their meeting smiling and hopeful on the outside, but inside knowing that someone was laughing at them. Someone out there thought they were nothing more than a joke. Someone out there didn't take them seriously. Someone was out there laughing at them. Mocking them. Mocking their name. Their creed. Their honor. I knew for a fact that deep down, their stomachs churned with embarrassment.

Fuck a badge.

I was shot heard round the world.
I was accidental billionaire.
My words spread like deadly wildfire.

I was slander.

Words of hate continued to pour into my notifications. Long after the meeting ended. One after the other. I loved it more and more. And then for one glorious moment, I read what had to have been one of the most amazing words I have ever read in my life. A comment that read:

Mindless Server Drone Number 17: right on.

And then one more:

Mindless Server Drone Number 4: finally someone went up and said something!

I was leader
I was revolutionary
I was pen and ink
I was thunderous voice
I was change
I was glorious smear campaign
I was man standing in front of the tank at Tienamen Square

I was legacy.

This, I did not plan. "This turned out way better than whatever bullshit I thought up last night," I thought to myself.

I struck a gold mine.

I can't wait to go to work tomorrow.

[end of part 7]

Friday, June 8, 2012

Untitled Project

Part 6

How do I stop them? Send me an answer. Go do I end the regime? How do I incarcerate the police? How do I free my brethren? How do I end the oppression?

I stayed up all night.

Alone in my room.

Idea after idea. Scrapped papers littered all over the floor. These monsters had to be stopped. Sketching. Scheming. The perfect plan! I got it! I had it all laid out. A masterpiece. I knew who I needed. I knew what I needed. I knew everything that was going to happen and when, and if this plan is pulled off flawlessly,

History will change.

Eyes getting heavy.
I will soon leave my mark.

I was abortion of atrocity.
I was crisis aversion.
I will soon free my people.

They will hear my thunderous message.

I will soon be leader.
Revolutionary.
Pariah.

My name will be known throughout. I will impregnate the dream.

When this plan comes to surface, kings will be toppled. Gods and demigods alike will fall. Fall hard. Tyrants will know rape.

Experts can die.

I will be legacy.
I will be legend.
I will be forever.

Go to sleep.

[end of Part 6]

Thursday, June 7, 2012

Untitled Project

Part 5

"That's what I thought,"

I said quietly and fiercely to him. I have been watching this one for a number of days now. He's planning something. I know it. I can already tell that he doesn't like us.

I can feel him scheming.

I am Expert Number 6 and I am part of the secret society. I am secret police. I rule the floor with an iron fist and electricity in my veins with my brethren. We strike down any and all opposition. It is our birthright. They outnumber us. We outgun them.

I walked back to the table with my brother Expert Number 2. "Worthless little shits aren't they?" I muttered, and he laughed with me. Mindless Server Drones Numbers 3 all the way through 12 were all folding napkins and wrapping silverware while Number 2 and I laughed and reflected on the night. In complete relaxation.

I can hear their bones aching and cracking under intense pressure, and their souls moaning quietly. I can feel their muscles stretching in pain. I can feel their tender ligaments and sore joints.

I'm getting wet.

Sure, the night was busy, and there was a lot to do, but that's what the Drones are here for. The gods made me into an expert because they knew I was good enough to become forever. I am power. I am authority. I am totalitarian. I am ultimate.

I am beauty.
I am perfect.
I am complete.

My job?

I serve.

But I also give orders. I am commander. I am lieutenant. I am chief. I say jump. They ask how high. I am above and they are below. The striking blindness of my badge stunts the vision of anyone who takes a glance. I steal their visions.

We are experts.
We are the lions in the jungle.
We are kings.

We crush aspirations.
We demolish dreams.
We are unstoppable.

I am everything these things, these nothings have ever wanted to be, and will never become. These servers are the gum under my shoe. Especially the scheming one. "Who the fuck does he think he is?" I asked Number 2. He answered, "Don't worry about him. If he even tries anything, we'll make sure he gets his just deserts." We both smirked.

We rule.
We take.
We conquer.

I hear a voice coming from behind me. It's one of those little peons. That very same one. Him. The scheming one.

"Hey, Number 6! I have a question for you!

[end of Part 5]

Untitled Project

Part 4

I was revolution's wake.
I was game changer.
I was legacy.

"If you think you can do a better job, then why don't you just become an expert?" asked Mindless Server Drone Number 14. I answered in a quiet and hushed voice. As if defeated, "Because the gods we worship decided not to make me into one."

I was uprising.
I was shot heard round the world.
I was conspiracy.

The world needed to know about the horrors that the underlings put us through. It was not out of jealousy anymore. I was Jack's desire for change. I was plan for sabotage. My server brethren continued to leave their shifts with their heads sunk sad and low while the experts rode out on their white chariots. Their shining badges signifying the sacred honor to their code. Drinking wine and the sweat and tears of their subordinates. It fueled them. It strengthened them.

We were united.
We were divided.

The experts were seven sins, but they served too. They deliver the slop to the pigs. They bring home the same bacon that Server Drone Number 42 took home. And myself. And Number 17. And Number 20. We were equals on the serving floor, but on the upper echelon, they were higher on the totem pole than us. "Fuck everyone here," muttered Number 8 as he crashed into the chair, relieving his body from the grueling night.

He was team player.

Experts Number 2 and 6 walked up the stairs to watch the fruits of their own undoing. They briskly walked by while the rest of us caught our breath and they squeaked and squawked, "What a crazy night huh?" asked number 2. Number 6 responded, "I know! I don't think I have ever worked so hard in my life!"

I whispered.

"Standing around and barking orders, and then running to the back to do absolutely nothing must really take a toll on the body."

Expert Number 6 turned her head fiercely and her beautiful mane flew in the air. What did you say? She asked. She sat down at the table in front of me. Confronted me. She calmed her tone. "Hey. I don't want to scold you. I just want to know what you said. Can you repeat yourself? Please? Tell me what it is you said." Her voice was as soft and fluid as fine silk. Our eyes met. I saw the lightning in her pupils. Her retinas sparked. She was ready to strike.

Seconds.
Seconds.

"Nothing." I said.

She smirked.

"That's what I thought."

They were wrath.
They were vanity.
They were sloth.

They were the corrupt secret society that ruled with an iron fist. The waved flags of red and black. They were Gestapo. They were Regime. They rained oppression.

They had to be stopped.

But how?

[end of Part 4]

Tuesday, June 5, 2012

Untitled Project

Part 3

"Hey! Come here!" hushed one of the gods. She rained fire and hell every single shift, but tonight was different. This moment would change everything. "I see you're getting better" she said. "You've been flipping tables like I've never seen before."

I was legacy.

The snake continued to hiss. We might have an opening for an expert position with your name on it. She laughed with a sly grin. She revealed fangs. She was one of the gods. I quickly rose in the ranks. Continuously overlooking everything that made the regime what it truly was. It made me strong.

I was in it for the money.
Nothing more.
I was integrity.

Mindless Server Drone Number 3 was my sister. My confidante. My best friend. She wanted what I wanted. She wanted to live forever. It was the end of the shift and we both looked up at the Wall of Shame, as I would secretly call it. Those who bore the name "Expert" gained immortality and earned a place on the wall.

That's gonna be us one day, she said to me as we looked at the highly coveted pedestal. The names in bright and shiny gold. It was dazzling. We wanted it.

We were team.

She didn't know I was somewhat offered a spot. What if I became immortal and she didn't? She works just as hard as I do. What if she doesn't become forever? It didn't matter. We both worked. We kept working.

We were integrity.

Months.
Months.
Pass by.

I grew weaker. The regime kept pounding their mighty hammers and my server brethren continuously oppressed. They waved their flags of red and black. Gods don't die.

Experts don't die.

No other word about an offer to be an expert was uttered. It was the beginning of the shift and the mighty Zeus flew down from his perch to preach us words of hope and goodwill before our shift. His voice boomed, "I would like to announce that Mindless Server Drone Number 3 will soon be starting training to become an expert." My jaw dropped. She was going to become immortal. No longer the oppressed. She will soon become the oppressor. She will become forever.

I was legend.

I thought back to a conversation we had. We need to become experts, she told me. Think of all the good we can do! She yelped and squealed. We could become forever. All we need is a chance.

Zeus spoke once more, If you all want an equal chance to become experts, you all need to step your game up. We want to see the sales number skyrocket if you want any chance to become forever! Zeus hath spoken. He flew back up to his perch.

I was suppressed envy. Over the next week, I witnessed a brainwashing. I watched the gods carve out another immortal. I observed the birth of an expert. I walked upstairs to visit my friend number 3 during the training. I watched as the screen spun out of control. She watched and absorbed propaganda.

She turned her head back with eyes of jet black. She was no longer Mindless Server Drone Number 3. Expert 3 yelled, "GO AWAY!"

I continued to work hard while my best friend patrolled the floor. Her fist shook with electrifying anger and authority. She was no longer the confidante I knew. She was booming thunder. She was Gestapo. She was police. She was thunderous abuse of authority.

That could've been me. She oppressed my collective elite. She treated us like trash. Like scum. They all did. They made me sick. There were no rules. Their word was law. It was abhorrent. Expert Number 3 led a driving force. She made the experts stronger and stronger while my collective grew weaker and weaker.

Something needed to change.
Something needed to be done.
A revolution needed to happen.

This was when I became leader.
This was when I became crusader.

This was when I became pariah

What a sordid little place.

[end of Part 3]

Untitled Project

Part 2

What a sordid little place.

There were no rules.

We watched blankly at the screen in the kitchen to see what was ready to be delivered to the pigs waiting at our tables. Us waiting on them. "I can't take this anymore. It's driving me crazy!" cried Mindless Server Drone Number 27 as she ran into the kitchen. Tears streamed recklessly down her face. Her psyche crushed into a million tiny little pieces. She ran to the freezer room to vomit. It was hard to witness.

It made my stomach hurt.

The management team were gods of their domain. Corrupt titans of the industry that often turned seldom seen peace into chaos. Constantly changing rules that were never there. The experts were their underlings. Masters and commanders. And then there was us. The slaves. The robots. The mindless drones.

What a grim little place. "Service with a smile" was our motto. None of us wanted to force smiles for the pigs. We all had to. "YOU ARE NOT SPECIAL" was written in big bold marker on the wipe board as we made our way to leave the kitchen. No encouraging words. "We are not special" we said quietly to ourselves when we left the doors at the end of our shift.

Fuck it.
Let's get drunk.
And forget everything.

The experts were the underlings of the management. Second in command. We obeyed them. Their word was law. We were mirror images. They carried badges on their chest to signify the honor to their code. "I've been one for almost 8 months now. Maybe one day you'll get to be one too." boasted Expert Number 5.

It was a busy night and the kitchen was fucking up. Again. I thought back to the beginning of the shift. The experts were preparing us for the night with reassuring words. "We are here for you," said Expert Number 7. "We are your friends. You can come to us if you have any problems." said Expert Number 4. "We are here to help you." they all said together.

This steak is too fucking overdone! Yelled guest number 37. I ran upstairs to find the first expert I could find. "I need your help," I pleaded. Expert number 7 was a brazen haired beauty worthy of a magazine spread. She sat idly at one of the tables admiring herself in a mini sized mirror she had in her hand, "Fuck outta he with that shit!" she yelled. Her voice boomed throughout the balcony area. "I got my own problems to deal with!"

Reassuring words.
Reassuring words.

I was left with an extremely irritable guest and no dollar for my trouble.

The gods were the ones who chose who they wanted to corrupt and brainwash to do their bidding. The experts. They were police. They were nazi. They were regime. They were Gestapo. With ties of red and shirts of black. They wore aprons with the emblem. Badges of silver with their namesake.

The experts were power. Unholy fists of lightning. They were greed. They were sloth. They were vanity. They were wrath.

They were untouchable.
They were immortal.

I wanted it.
I wanted everything.

What a sordid little place.

[end of Part 2]

Saturday, June 2, 2012

Untitled Project

Part 1

I was legend. I was dynasty. I was legacy.

But before all of that, I was rookie. I was young and naive. He crept up from behind me, and said "My guest totally gave me head in the bathroom just now." What a sordid little place. The management was no better than the guests. This was a place fueled by gossip and hearsay. I learned that the hard way.

I was legend.

The management was tyrannical. This place is Nazi regime. They turned us into robots. We clock in and slip on our masks. We were hallowed husks of our former selves. "Fuck all of these people," said Mindless Server Drone Number 22 as she wrapped silverware and folded napkins. Our jobs were to feed the trough for the pigs to eat. The pigs would then leave a dollar bill on the table for our trouble. We clock out and get drunk.

I was legacy.

But I was rookie first. I was subordinate. I was kicked around. I was hazed. I left with 80 bucks in my pocket every night feeding the pigs. Delivering their slop. I felt like a prostitute. "Service with a smile" was our motto. Our masks were broken, torn and shattered. None of us wanted to smile for them. We had to. We were collective elite. The best of the best. They were my brothers and sisters.

I became their leader.
I became their crusader.

I became pariah.

We all vied for the ultimate prize. To be immortalized. "I want to become an expert!" said Mindless Server Drone Number 3. She was part of the collective elite. She was my best friend. To become an expert was to become elite in the eyes of the Regime. To become an expert was to gain power. To become an expert was to become legacy. To be part of a sacred society of corrupt egomaniacs.

I wanted it.

What a sordid little place.

[end of Part 1]

Tuesday, May 22, 2012

Sweet Amber: An Allegory

If you knew me, you'd know I am perfection. I am Grade A student. I am perfection. I am the girl next door. I am everything you could ever dream of. I am perfection. Long flowing auburn hair. Perfect firm and perky breasts and a skinny waist that can fit perfectly into a pair of Size Zero jeans. 

 I am perfection.

Elocution beyond any compare. Harvard bound and a bright future ahead of me. Perfect parents and a perfect life. Perfect everything. I wake up and it rains. I get dressed and go outside for a snack. It stops raining. My life is filled with nothing but hopes and dreams. A small circle of friends and loving siblings. Both children. 

I am perfection. My hair is never messy. Rarely do I ever need a shower, but I do it anyway. Have never been in a fight. I am single. I am perfect. Large beautiful house and my parents pay for everything. My school, my clothes. Everything comes easy. 

I hate it.

I hate everything. 

Sweet Amber wants to show me a different side.

A different side of me.

She fucks with my head and shows me things that I have never seen before. She shows me amazing things in the city nightlife and makes me want to become a different person. I want to become imperfection. "Hey baby, how's it goin?" he asked me one night. I love it. I want the attention. I want all of it. 

The pirate themed bar blasted music through the walls. Getting in wasn't a problem. I am perfection. Every guy here wants to do unspeakable things to me, and Sweet Amber wants me to welcome it with open arms. They come over and whisper atrocities into my ear. Sweet Amber is there accompanying me. I go to her for advice when I head to the bar, "What should I do? I love what I am seeing. I love what you are showing me. Please tell me what to do!" I plead and beg for her advice. She tells me to calm down and have another drink. I do exactly as she says. 

I am imperfection.

I want to perform atrocities.

Sweet Amber shows me how.

Sweet Amber is my best friend and I would do anything for her. With her help, I can do anything. She puts me in a seemingly neverending daze when I have had too much of her. I want to become imperfection. 

I love her. 

"You DTF?" he asked me that very same night. That very same guy. I asked Sweet Amber what that was and she told me that it meant that I was willing to give up my body to this perfect stranger. No matter what. She tells me that it's perfectly fine. She tells me that it is normal. She tells me that its okay. She tells me that the only person who will and should judge me is myself.

"Go for it!" she yells into my ear.

Sweet Amber.

I love you.

Thanks to you.

I am imperfection.

I lack a conscience. I continue to dance with my friends. He sits at the bar waiting to strike like a predator on his prey. I want to be his prey. I want to become imperfection. I want Sweet Amber to show me what my body can do. I want her help and that is exactly what she is giving me. I take more of my beautiful Sweet Amber in and everything becomes a blur. 

I can't see anything

I can't hear anything

I can see everything

I can hear everything

I am imperfection

Sweet Amber swims through my body. She rapes my innocence, and makes me her bitch. I am at her command and I will do anything she tells me to do. Her blood runs cold through mine. She is my best friend. "Hey, stud! What's your name?" I asked another random stranger at the bar. The lights dance wildly, and so do we. I want everything he has to offer.

Sweet Amber pulls me away and leads me to the bar. We both order one more drink from the bar. 

She forces her way down my throat and she envelops me in warmth. She holds me tight and my temperature rises. She confides in me and I confide in her. How sweet are you? How sweet does it get? The attention is on me. I am the belle of the ball. Everyone wants me and I want everyone. 

Sweet Amber tells me that it's okay.

"So are you DTF now?" he asked me one more time. Sweet Amber answered for me, "Yeah! Let's fuckin' do this!" Sweet Amber caresses me from the inside and promises nothing heinous will ever happen to me. I trust her. DTF takes me by the arm and pulls me out of the bar. We are outside and I am stumbling. He stares at me and laughs. He takes a drag from his cigarette and calls a cab.

He pushes me in and Sweet Amber catches me. She envelops me once more in her warmth and she caresses me. "Everything is going to be okay." she whispers into my ear. DTF yells to the cabbie, "Varick and Downing!" 

I can hear nothing. 

I can see nothing.

I am imperfection. 

"I got lucky running into you, didn't I?" DTF asked me. I was unable to utter a word. Sweet Amber wouldnt let me. She continued to comfort me from the inside. He can't see my Sweet Amber.

But I can. She was there the entire time. She is still here with me now. "We're gonna have fun tonight." he said to me. I was afraid, but Sweet Amber tells me to calm myself. Nothing bad is ever going to happen.

Sweet Amber

I love you. 

The cab halts abruptly, and DTF pulls me out.

We walk up the stairs and he laughs with a sinis--

Wednesday, April 4, 2012

My Review of Nicki Minaj's Roman Reloaded

You're in a car with a driver. The driver goes, "Dude, I'm gonna drive this car off a fucking cliff. So, get the fuck out of the car now!" You see the door is open, but you stay anyway. The driver starts driving. "Roman Holiday" and "Come On A Cone" play and you think "hm, not that bad...starting off okay...nice and strong." Then "Right By My Side" with Chris Brown and "Sex In The Lounge" with Bobby V. plays and the car starts veering towards the cliff.

Still in the car and now you're thinking "Fuck. What's next?" After that, "
Automatic" and "Beautiful Sinner" plays and the driver drives right off the cliff. You're screaming your lungs out as Nicki sings over the terrible synth tracks. You're half way to the ground and "Fire Burns" plays. You just want your life to be over right now. "Stupid Hoe" plays and the car makes impact with the ground and explodes in a huge fireball.

But...You're not dead yet. You're crawling out of the car on fire and think, "THERE'S MORE? WHAT COULD BE NEXT?" The Lady Gaga-esque "
Va Va Voom" starts playing and you're burning alive and just praying to die. Before you lose sight of your life "Masquerade" plays and you hear the lyrics "I don't wanna take you if we fall down/Don't get upset/And now, is just the beginning"

I guess what I'm trying to say is that listening to Nicki Minaj's Roman Reloaded is like driving off a cliff.

2/10



Sunday, March 18, 2012

"This One Time" Part 2: Another Collection Of Short, Humorous Vignettes

This one time I had sex with this girl. "I'm pretty experienced, and I'm pretty nasty," she told me. She was wearing a bright pink thong practically made of string and matching bra. She climbed on top and started to ride wildly. She laughed and screamed like a psychotic banshee. She spoke in tongues and flailed her arms, "Fuck me hard and give me a beard! Make me your little sex monkey!" When we finished, I took my condom off. She looked me dead in my eyes and snatched the condom from my hand. She emptied the condom directly into her mouth. I hadn't masturbated in weeks. She stared directly into my eyes as she gargled and giggled happily. Her laughs turned demonic. Her laughs echoed through the halls. 


I stared back in horror...and slight arousal.

This one time I had sex with this girl. She told me she always wanted to try to deep throat. She thought of me to be a capable candidate for that. She bucked and rode with vigor in the pitch black loft. She hopped off and went down on me. "I want you to come!" she cried in ecstasy. I was able to feel her tongue salivating all over me. She was struggling trying to shove me down her throat. "I'm coming!" I yelled. She coughed and gag and I released in her mouth. She swallowed and The next thing I heard was sobbing. She cried as she sat at the foot of my bed. Nude. "What the fuck happened?" I asked. "It's not you. I promise. I thought about my ex-boyfriend when you came in my mouth." She continued, "When I was with him, he forced me to swallow, and you didn't force me to do anything! You just let me and I'm crying because he's a piece of shit, and you're so wonderful and--" Her voice trailed off and I laid back down.


"Fuck it. At least it wasn't me," I thought to myself. I fell right to sleep.

This one time I had sex with this girl. She said to me, "No way! You can't make a girl squirt! That takes skill!"I stared back and whispered, "Challenge accepted." The moon spilled light onto her face as she moaned with ecstasy. She forgot about everything. It was about an hour in. I got on my knees as she lay on her back, out of breath. I dug three finger inside her and started pushing onto her spot. She yelled and screamed into her orgasm as she started to squirt all over my wrist. Her yells turned into intense grunts as she started to projectile her liquid onto a wall behind me. Her come made its way into an electrical outlet. The holes in the wall fizzled and sparked in reaction to the liquid. One of the sparks flew onto the adjacent linen curtain. We stared into each other's eyes as the room turned red. "Where is that red light coming from?" she asked. The curtain was set ablaze with fire. We both yelled, "FUCK! FUCK!" Luckily she had a fire extinguisher in her kitchen for just such an occasion. The fire went out. Her curtains and some of her books were turned to ash. The building's fire alarm went off as we stood together in the nude and stared blankly at her burned wall. The room was filled with smoke. We heard a knock on the door. It was one of the neighbors. "Is everything okay in there? Hello?"


She turned on the nearby lamp and asked, "How the fuck are we gonna explain this?" 



This one time I had sex with this girl. She was bisexual. We met at a lesbian bar a friend dragged me to. We made out the entire night in a drunken frenzy. She took me back to her apartment on Varick. She rubbed and tugged me the entire way. I was able to smell how horny she was on the cab ride. She led me upstairs and ripped my clothes off the second we entered. She pleasured me in her living room and I pleasured her back. "Come to my room!" She made me chase her. I followed her to her bed. It was pitch black. She pushed me onto one side her large king size bed. We were both in the nude, "I don't get it a lot but tonight, I'm ready for it." I was barely able to see her, but I could see the twinkle in her eyes. She moaned and begged as her sultry, naked body lay on top of mine. 


The next thing I heard was a deep booming female voice going from directly next to me, "I've been waiting!" I yelled instantly, "What the fuck was that?" I threw her off me and got out of her bed in a rush. I looked for the lamp and flipped the switch. The light came on and a large black woman was laying in bed completely in the nude. "WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS? WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU? NO! NO! FUCK THIS!" I yelled in terror. She looked no less than 300lbs. Her breasts flowed down her naked chest like a vomit inducing waterfall. She was wearing pink weave and had a large black vibrator and lube ready on the night table next to the bed. She looked over to the girl from the bar, "Is this motherfucka gonna fuck us or what?" she asked. "Bitch, is this a trap?" I asked with fury. I instantly rushed to the living room and dressed myself. The girl from the bar approached me, "I'm sorry! That's just my roommate! I can make her leave!" I angrily made my way towards the door and left. She opened her door and watched me leave. I was able to hear her last words as I stormed down the hallway,


"Call me!"











*this entire post is a work of fiction


Monday, March 5, 2012

Pause The Game

WATCH THE NEWEST SHORT FROM YOUTUBE'S NEWEST UP AND COMING COMEDY DUO IMSERIESOUS

"PAUSE THE GAME"

WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU PRESS THAT START BUTTON JUST A LITTLE TOO HARD?

Wednesday, February 29, 2012

Open Letter To Snooki's Unborn Child

Dear, Snooki's Unborn Child

So apparently, it's been three months in, and the public is just getting news of your arrival. That's awesome and we can't wait for you to come into all of our lives. There is just one big, BIG problem. Your mother is a total piece of shit. She is a loathsome cunt, disgusting and untalented media slut, and she begs for apocalypse. As you lie inside your mother's womb developing you can probably already hear the camera shutters going off and the TMZ crew shouting questions at mommy.

As you grow, you're probably going to want to love your mother unconditionally as all children would naturally do, but I honestly think you're going to want to rethink this one. There are plenty of other women in this world who clearly don't deserve children, and then get pregnant anyway, but your mother just tops the list in a big way. I'm not great at talking to unborn kids, much less in an open letter, but your mother fucking sucks.

Everyone is going to be waiting for that one day 12 or so years from now when you find those old DVDs of your mom in that one show she was in that made her famous. I promise, you will most likely be in complete shock. This is also implying that she had the decency to hide her "Jersey Shore" persona from you as you live your childhood with everything being served to you on a silver fucking platter. You're gonna find those DVDs, watch then and ask mommy what "smooshing" is. You're going to wonder what mommy is drinking and why she's getting into all those fights. She's probably going to want to lie and tell you "I got into all those fights and slept with all those guys for you, baby!"

I'll share some wise words with you:

You can take the girl out of Jersey
But you can't take the Jersey out of the girl
And you can't take the baby out of the Jersey girl
Or the Jersey out of the baby...or...

Whatever, fuck it...

What I'm trying to say is that your growth could go one of two ways:

1. You grow up to become a fat, disgusting, untalented, media whore like mommy. You start your own "brand" at a young age and you become the "Paris Hilton/Lindsay Lohan/Britney Spears" for the new generation. You become a new heir/heiress as your mother continues to grow in net worth. You do nothing but drink, party and fight at the young age of 16. You become the new center of attention because of your lineage. You begin to grow a following of people who love you and idolize you, and people who want you and mommy dead. You mother becomes old and decrepit as she begins to show age by the time she turns 34. You marry, fuck and date celebrities at an accelerated rate and your face ends up on everything from thermoses to books and pencils without you doing much of anything.

Or:

2. You break free from your mother's creed and become an amazing person. You detach yourself from mommy and you grow yourself up, and teach yourself life lessons while your mother continues to bathe in her undeserved limelight. You go to an Ivy League school and get a PhD in Astrophysics. You discover your mother's past persona (assuming mommy eventually gets over this whole "Jersey Shore" thing) late in your life, but it doesn't bother you because you realize you're better than mommy. You gradually become wrought with embarrassment as your mother continuously remains the butt of every joke, ridiculed with stereotypes and racial slurs. Being followed by paparazzi and getting questions shouted at her about her 5th love interest for that month. You sit beside your mom in disdain and embarrassment.

If it ever comes to the latter result, I want to conclude by telling you that if you decide to run away from your mother, or completely disown yourself from her, or decide to kill her once and for all...

No one at all will blame you.

No one.

In fact, here are some fun pictures of mommy to help you make that decision:




Signed,
A severely concerned member of society