I Wanna Watch You Bleed One late night on the sunset strip, while everyone was walking their own separate ways, there was a young red head prancing his way through 'the jungle' of a sidewalk. Where he was going, no one knew. But with hair teased that high and the look in his eye told you to get out of his way. He looked from the left, and to the right. With his eyebrows narrowed and his mouth tightly closed, W. Axl Rose stopped at his destination.
Just as he was about to enter, a man with overly done eyeliner and a beer gut stared at the young rock star.
Axl looked right back at him with a piercing stare. "You want somethin'?" he snapped.
"N-no..." The man stammered.
"Well to bad 'cause you're gettin' somethin'." Axl sneered as he walked towards the man. Soon they were hurling fists and biting flesh until the beer-gutted-man pulled out a knife and put it to the singer's valuable throat.
"Not so tough now, are ya?" he panted. Axl did
The Day I Said YesI lay in my bed, the phone held to my ear as I laughed for the hundredth time in the past few hours.The Day I Said Yes4 years ago in Emotional More Like This
I stopped for a moment, and a silence lapsed between us.
The boy on the other end of the phone was Joseph, and he was one of my best friends in the world. At that time, we had created so many good memories, and I cherished every last one. I had only know him for six months, or from the beginning of my sophomore year, his Jr. year, but we were still good friends.
At that moment, I thought back at the past few days.
At this time, it had been three days sense he had asked me out, and the memory was still as fresh in my mind as the moment it happened.
I was laying in bed, two days after I had my wisdom teeth taken out, and was talking with Joe on the phone.
He had earlier gone above and beyond what any other boy or man, had ever, or would ever, do for me. While I was in bed and recovering from surgery, he came over to my house and visited me.
At the time I was embarrassed that I was seen in
The Mechanic Jim tossed his grease rag into the bucket by the door and braced himself to deal with this client. She sat all prim and proper in one of the plastic chairs that lined the waiting area, waiting for him to tell her hed pulled off a miracle at a modest price. She was about to be very disappointed.The Mechanic5 years ago in Humor More Like This
Miss Daley? He jerked his head at the consultation room. She shot up out of her chair and followed him in. He saw to it that she was seated first, offered coffee, and then poured them each a mug. He waited while she added her cream and sugar, and then he got down to business.
Miss Daley, did you even read the manuals before you took this thing out for a spin?
She went pale, tried to work her mouth a few times, but no sound came out. I didnt. I mean, these things dont come with manuals. You just, you get right in and you go where i
we're just cracks in the roadSometimes, your skin gleams silver and sometimes, I'm four years old again scribbling my name across your chest in sidewalk chalk. Since sometimes, I pretend that you're made from concrete since then we seem a little more permanent and I don't have to worry about my painted heart washing away from your surface. But sometimes, I'm blind. Since these days, I'm stuck tracing the veins that dart through your arms which remind me that you're temporary. And then they remind me of cracks in the cement and other things we can't fix. And then I remember maybe, I can't even fix you.we're just cracks in the road5 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
Sometimes I plaster makeup on my face trying to hide that childlike me with something so easily washed away and I'm fading away just like color in the sunshine when i think of you. I remember what it was like when everything was set in stone and 'temporary' was just a passing glimpse but now temporary is all it ever seems to be with you. I'm left sticking band-aids on our cracked relationship lying to myself with eve
How To Eat A MandolinMandolin-eating is a revered art practiced by the likes of Roger Tull and Syd Barrett. With this easy guide, you can do it, too! Ye be warned, however: the path to a fully consumed mandolin is difficult, and it can be dangerous when navigated improperly. So, follow this guide to the letter, and if you're not sure about something, feel free to ask.How To Eat A Mandolin5 years ago in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
1. Remove the tuning pegs. Nibble on these as a warm-up exercise. At this point, you will experience the raw, succulent taste of mandolin for the first time. This is something that not many people accomplish, so be proud. Now is also a good time to gauge how difficult the mandolin-eating process is going to be. Was the process of eating the pegs a piece of cake? Slightly uncomfortable, but tolerable? So painful that you think you'll die? Remember: a little tooth pain is normal, but if it becomes extreme, measures should be taken to make it easier. (See Tips for more details on that.)
2. De-string the mandolin.
we could be like venn diagramsi fall down a lotwe could be like venn diagrams4 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
and while i'm laying back to the ground, somewhat starry-eyed with both my palms slightly grazed, i've been reduced to trying to explain the size of the sky to you. this is what i do when i have other things i should be saying but can't cough up right now. instead i'm mumbling about how the clouds have been wringing the bright blues of the sky dry with sapphire ribbons of raindrops for days. or about when you meet me at the shore and send shivers down my spine, all i can think about is how the sky never ends. i want to stand up and explain to you that i like my lightning without thunder and that i want whatever it is that's beyond the horizons. i want to say that i stopped listening to the radio since you told me silence is a better suited soundtrack for falling in love and that my blood is rushing through my veins so fast that i swear you should be able to hear it. i want to tell you that it's just become completely obvious what i'm living for.
but it's autumn and i'
2. Love100 Themes Challenge2. Love4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
She hadn't been to the beach in years.
She didn't plan on getting in the water; it would wreck her pedicure. Instead she walked out upon the scorching sand, clutching the hand of Michelle in hers so she wouldn't stray. She wore a white cover-up over a black bikini, and a straw hat with sunglasses. She stopped as Michelle pointed a stubby pink finger out at the roaring waves, and she glanced back at her husband. He sat upon a towel with his brother and his brother-in-law, passing around beers and sunscreen. She turned her head away, gazing at the pale horizon, the gulls wheeling above.
"Mama!" Michelle tugged the woman's hand. "It's blue!"
"Yes, honey, that's right," she said.
The little girl made a run for it. Her wobbly legs, feet clutched within tiny sandals, carried her over the white dunes, the seashells hidden from sight. When she reached the water she winced backwards, scrunching up her little fists and little face. She fled back to her mother, who di
Senses I don't know how long I've been away from my computer, and I honestly don't care to find out. Where I am sitting, on the hill in my backyard nestled under the shade of small trees, I am perfectly happy. It's a pleasantly warm summer evening, and the only things that are joining me are the butterflies and the mourning doves. The only sound to be heard is the breeze, rustling the leaves and branches of the trees, causing them to join in an eloquent dance.Senses4 years ago in Emotional More Like This
The crickets join in with the breeze, adding to its invisible song; I don't mind.
Off in the distance, cicadas give their call; a sound that has always reminded me of summer. The hot days of my childhood, filled with laughter and the smell off cold water from a garden hose.
Out here, I am not just a girl with a not so perfect home life. I am not a student, with only average grades. I am not a
Get kicked out of Wal-mart111 WAYS TO GET KICKED OUT OF WAL-MARTGet kicked out of Wal-mart5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Updated! (even more, more!)
1. Take shopping carts just for the purpose of filling them and stranding them at random locations.
2. Ride those little electronic cars at the front of the store and refuse to get off.
3. Turn off all of the lights and yell 'JOIN THE DARK SIDE'.
4. Start playing Calvinball; see how many people you can get to join in.
5. Contaminate the entire auto department by sampling all the spray air fresheners.
6. Challenge other customers to duels with tubes of gift wrap.
7. Walk up to complete strangers and say, "Hi! I haven't seen you in so long!..." etc. See if they play along to avoid embarrassment
8. Go up to some old guy & say "Grandpa!!! You're ALIVE!!! It's a MIRACLE!!!"
9. Take something from someone else's cart, when they say "HEY! That's mine!" call the security and say that the other person was trying to take your .....
10. Move "Caution: Wet Floor" signs to carpeted areas.
11. Hide in the center of the clothes circle
confessions of lostwithoutyou.i'm not a liar. but i never told you that you always looked best in black. i liked how your skin would fade to a paler shade of perfection and your perfect teeth would glint a little brighter. and i could pretend for an evening that you were my black and white dream come true. and with you there would be no shades of inbetweens and no grays for us to get lost in. i never told you but it's true.confessions of lostwithoutyou.5 years ago in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
i was never able to tell you, but i hate the way you cook your 'specialty' eggs. you always laughed over your shoulder and told me that they are the best food ill ever eat, that i was blessed to get the chance to taste them melting on my tongue. but frankly, you used too much pepper and the wrong cheese and i always spit them in my napkin when you turned away. i always told you that they were my favorite food, but i dont even actually like eggs.
i could never say this, but i can't stand the way you click your tongue against your perfect teeth when you're nerv
A More In Depth Analysis Caroline knocked on the professor's door and prayed he wouldn't answer. It was college tradition to spend as little time in the man's presence as possible, and that was in broad daylight. No one ever dared to be around him after dark.A More In Depth Analysis4 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Her heart sank as his office door creaked open and revealed Professor Boden, or Borderline, as his students called him behind his back. "Hello, Caroline," he said. The door swung open a little more and he stepped back to grant her entry. "Do come in, won't you?"
Going in was the last thing she wanted to do, but she did as she was told. The room was mostly dark, and carried a faint smell of disinfectant. She dragged her feet to avoid tripping on anything that might have been hidden in the shadows.
The door closed with a resounding click and Professor Boden turned to face her. "I have it on good authority that you may have cheated on your
SuicideSuicide4 years ago in Emotional More Like This
He never seen her tears run black
Tainted by leaking mascara - Dried
By compassionate words. "Why"
She asked. The painful question Balanced
in her trembling voice - With an empty glance
and empathetic sigh - His eyes pleaded
That she would not cry - He took her into
His arms - He took her pain - If only for a moment
A moment spent in vain. "I need to go"
His throat restricted to imprison the words -
The sound of her letting go was the most painful
Thing he had ever heard - His footsteps on the
Dull wooden floor began to fade as he made
His way down the hall to pack his things. Her
Whole world began to spin "I am nothing" She said.
"Nothing without him" She fell to her knees - She
Could no longer Suppress or suffocate the searing
Pain that burnt through her violated existence.
"There is no God.. No Heaven, There Is No Place For Me"
She spoke softly as she pressed the chamber of the
Gun to her temple - Her finger trembling against the
trigger - As she built the empty
runningrunning4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
first he comes in and mommy looks really scared like something bad's going to happen
and then he slams the door and starts shouting at her and all she does is sigh
and i try to hide but there's nowhere to hide so i look down
and then mommy starts yelling too and then she's crying and he throws a glass across the room
and he's saying something about someone i don't know, and mommy's saying that she's sorry
but he doesn't want to listen to her
and then i start crying too and i run away
running running running
but i can't get away before i hear him say that he never wants to see her again
and i can't remember what that word means
that word that starts with a D and he cries it out and it makes mommy quiet
and i can't pretend that i didn't hear him slam the door again
and i can't remember how long i've been here while mommy cries
and i know that i couldn't have done anything.
mommy, please don't cry. please.
RosesRoses6 years ago in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
They covered you with roses. Finally.
Oscar Wilde Wants Your Lunch"Oscar Wilde wants your lunch."Oscar Wilde Wants Your Lunch4 years ago in Humor More Like This
She looked up from her store-bought, prepackaged meal of miniature hot dogs to give me a sort of flat, sort of weirded-out, clearly not amused expression. It was not in the least atypical; I seem to get reactions like that from a lot of people.
"Oscar Wilde wants your lunch," I repeated goofily. "He wants to eat your lunch, and you have to eat it before he takes it away from you."
She reached into the plastic container and pulled out a packet of mustard. "Can't he just go get one at the store?"
"No, he wants yours specifically."
"Because he does!"
She looked as though she were going to say something, but then decided against it in favor of applying condiments to her hot dogs buns. She found three of them, very thick and ridiculously short, encased in plastic wrap.
"Why are the hot dog buns in plastic?" she asked, sort of rhetorically.
"That's so Oscar Wilde doesn't get them. He wants your lunch, Mackenzie!"
"Then why are the hot dog