Tapioca Pudding: Introduction

He sits next to her and admires her light skin. She’s as lightly toned as a vampire and dressed in black; it only celebrates her demonic stature.
Her blonde hair is bleached white and falls to gently cover the wings of her eyeliner.

Jenny is perfect.

Jenny is an angel.

Jenny is everything Jeremy wants to be.

The classroom full of jaundice. The alcohol poisoning in this school. Its strong in this one, if you will. Mathematics is boring and useless. Trigonometry. I’ll use this tomorrow while I’m using Boolean algebra to write my grocery list.


I look all over the grocery store and I couldn’t find ‘Y’. Daydreaming is a bitch. My teacher Mr. Whiles writes the answers on the chalkboard as we pretend to listen. He would never have a pop quiz. His grade average would sink below the national standard and the school would lose funding for slutty cheerleader uniforms. Oh no.

Continue reading “Tapioca Pudding: Introduction”

Tapioca Pudding

When writers block ensues sometimes it’s nice to put aside the work you’re struggling with and write a completely new project. Sometimes what you write becomes mindless dribble and sometimes it becomes Tapioca Pudding.

Check out this new story on WattPad: https://my.w.tt/UiNb/rCvpZlFyRJ

Sorry About The Bang: Introduction

– Feeling distress, especially through sympathy with someone else’s misfortune.

– A sudden loud noise.

I’d love to tell you that my heart and soul went into writing the note left on my bedside table but the truth is its very hard to write a suicide note without writing an autobiography. I wanted to keep it short and sweet much like my life.

Before you blow your brains out in your mothers basement you spend days, weeks, months? Contemplating whether or not you’ll blow your brains out in your mothers basement despite her telling you not to kill yourself in her house. It will affect the resale value. Personally I think murder and suicide houses are on the up and up considering everyone fascination with the strange and unusual.

You envision your funeral. How many people will be in attendance to celebrate your life and what would you say to them all if you could be there. You can’t. Your brains and skull fragments are scattered along the wall behind your bed. You don’t have to clean up the mess. You can’t.

At three A.M when I put my stepfathers twelve gauge shotgun in my mouth the only thing I could think to say to everyone I love residing in my house was ‘Sorry about the bang.’ As I enter eternal slumber I didn’t want to wake my loved ones. I wanted everyone to get a good nights rest before finding my lifeless body in my childhood bedroom.

I wasn’t filled with misery and despair. I suppose leading up to the hole in my head I did feel hopeless. I felt hopeless but also happy. I felt relieved for the first time in a very long time.

Have you ever woken from a nightmare, a bad dream and tried to fall back asleep as soon as possible to continue the dream or relive the vivid terror once more because it was more entertaining than anything you’ve ever seen in your mundane and melancholy life?

I didn’t want my life to be repetition. I wasn’t ready for the quick onset of reality and what it held for me but listen to me complaining to you, a total stranger. I suppose if more people had listened as you are I may not be laying in a pool of my own blood. They say once your heart stops beating you’ll stop bleeding. I must have had a strong heart because after I blew my brains out of the back of my head my blood continued to soak through my twin size mattress.

You might think I’m selfish or a coward for leaving this world so quickly and you may be right. The truth is I have no idea what life could have had in store for me and now we’ll never know, but I was bored. I think that may be why my skull is in pieces. Boredom. I wasn’t bored as in I had nothing to do but rather I’d done everything there was to do and I didn’t want to do it again.

They say a fatal gunshot to the head is painless but I have to tell you that they’re wrong. It’s painless in the sense that you don’t feel anything physical but for one moment you feel every single painful emotion a human being can feel.

I am dead. I am dead as a door nail and once again I’d like to tell you that I’m sorry about the bang.

Psycho Inside: Chapter 2

I’ve been taken out of Heaven.

Cali is a beautiful little vixen taken out of Heaven and thrust into hell. Earth. She’s much too precious for the life she leads. 18 years old and still a hard body, perky little tits and an ass that could bring any mortal man to his knees. Her short blonde hair reminds her of the sunshine she will never see again.
Cali is my unattainable little lust and the one that got away. She’s my favorite cousin. I did this to her. I cast her to damnation and now she lives among men with me for eternity.
When I wake I walk to her room and stare down over her. She wouldn’t let me sniff her panties let alone fuck her. I should cut off her head and thrust my penis in her throathole but I need her. She is my passion and has been for a very long time. I want to treat her like a blow up doll I will throw away when I finish but instead I treat her as family.
While she sleeps I smell her hair and gently slide my hand over her pale, white spine. I lust for you; filthy fucking whore. Cali works as a stripper on McGovernor boulevard and men throw her their childrens college tuition money in single dollar bills by the fistful to her immortal little mudflaps. She’s a disgusting whore and always has been and if it wasn’t for her rejection of my advances I don’t think I would be intrigued at all.
I walk out of her room and smile. I am the beast. “I am the beast!” I say to myself with a large grin on my face. To hell with mortal man. To hell with Clair, Vanessa. To hell with Cali and most importantly to hell with Carter.
Tonight Amanda Akins will leave her mortal life and I ask of you to please give a moment of silence.
I’ve noticed Amanda working down the street from my office at a 24 hour coffee shop. She reminds me of cousin Cali. She has short blonde hair; a bob of sorts and a little body but maybe not quite as firm as Calis form but still… She is a good resemblance to the precious little princess.
Amanda is a Daughter, Mother,  and friend to all of her regular customers and she will surely be missed by the community but a beast has got to do what a beast has got to do and I’ve got to shove my hand so far up her orfices it comes out the little cunts mouth.
I see her standing conveniently in the alley smoking behind Country Home Coffee and approach her casually.
“Hey hon, do you have an extra cigarette by chance? I left mine at home.” I say to her nonchalantly.
“Sorry, cigarette packs don’t come with extras babe.” she laughs and in that moment I punch her in the throat. Pompous cunt.
She turns blue and begins to cough. I laugh and kick her in the face as she leans forward trying to catch her breath. She didn’t see it coming and now that she’s unconcious she won’t see me cumming. I run my fingers through her soft, silky, blood stained blonde hair and bite into her throat with one quick chomping motion.
Her life essence and even her smell remind me of Cali. I am in love with this dying woman and I just met her. How precious. I unbutton my pants and start to stroke myself over top of her while tugging her denim blue jeans over her wideset hips when suddenly someone starts to walk towards us. I remain quiet; spooked but quiet as they yell out for Amanda as she’s now late from her break.
Thankfully they don’t travel into the dark abyss that is the alley but I’ve lost my erection and my mood. I stand up and look over Amandas nearly lifeless body before stomping on her fucking face. Thanks for nothing you waste of skin! I hope your children enjoy being raised in a foster home!

What a waste of precious time that bitch was and now my Armani exchange loafers are covered in this little whores blood.
I’ll be late for work but I must return to the house to change my outfit. I can’t go to the office looking like this. I simply can’t.
When I get home Cali has already left for her night of… “Work”. Work being taking off your own clothes as if you’re the worst magician in the world and have no tricks and are not a magician at all because you’re a worthless stripper and if your family was still with us they’d be so ashamed they would disown your pathetic, slutty self and you’d have no family anyways. That’s what shes decided to become; a whore. 
I’m quick to change my suit and I stand infront of the mirror admiring myself for a moment. I am gorgeous. I am a God among men. I am going to kill Carter with a rake and run his worthless face over with a lawnmower to spare his family the task of looking at his lying face again during an open casket funeral. I am a beautiful, beastly being and I deserve the best in life. I am a beautiful, beastly being and I deserve a cigarettee.
I light a cigarette and enhale smoke as if I’m Godlike. I am Godlike. I am the push that makes you move and I hate the entire human race. I would love to tear my eyes out of my head and never gaze upon this pathetic world again.
Have you ever confused a dream with reality or reality with a dream? Sometimes I’m not sure if I’m alive and dreaming or dead and remembering and to be completely frank with you I simply do not give a damn. I will have Cali. Whether she chooses to believe it or not she is my … Ugh… Soul mate.