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

The High Desert Sun.

I dedicate this story to my friends Sara, Mike & Alyssa and my family. Thank you all for supporting me.

The desert is and always has been a mighty fine place to run out of water when you want a cigarette. You simply cannot smoke with a dry mouth. The flavor of tobacco sticks and resonates in the most unpleasant way. That’s what I’ve learned from my last drag and the last cigarette I’ll be smoking in this God forsaken land.

When the methamphetamine kicks in we’ll start to sweat and surely that will cool us down before dehydration ensues and overcomes our moist bodies. You think you’ve dried out from crystal meth before but wait until your pores begin to drip in the hell hole or vacant sand lot that seems to stretch for miles. I’m not sure which this is but I can tell you that my body rivals only a Gods in the sense that I’ve built a tolerance or immunity if you will to every poison available this side of arsenic.

Bates is tripping. The poor bastard isn’t going to make it through this trip. I could have told you when we left the porch he would be overcome by the elements in no time and surely I’ll be left to carry his lifeless body out of the devil’s pit. That’s if the vultures and I haven’t begun to feed on the poor fool. Bates does have an aroma one could almost savor but maybe that’s my mission. Save Bates. Operation Save Bates. I was a fool not to see it before.

My tongue tastes the way ashtrays smell. I’m not sure I can take it much longer and taking a bite of Bates becomes even more or all the more imperative.

“Ouch!!!!” Bates exclaims! “What’s wrong with you?”

“Only a flesh wound!” I smile to ease the tension I can feel growing between us but Bates, a man of obsession and grudge holding can’t seem to let go of his arm.

I expected more of a copper taste from a man of your sort, Bates.

“I expected less of an iron taste from a man of your caliber, Bates!”

“Would you shut up and keep walking?” Bates appears to be angry and I can tell he’s become delusional as he’s now only responding to half of what I say. No mention of the copper.

The man tastes fowl as an ashtray but I was not the one to tell a man on the brink of losing it all he tastes of such! So for all intents and purposes today Bates tastes of the usual copper and I’ll not argue with him should that be what he wishes… wait? That’s me that tastes of copper. I’ve bitten my tongue while taking a small amount of Bates flesh for survival. I knew I was a God among men. Now, to make Bates taste my tongue, but how? surely, he’ll want to know what a God tastes like.

This triangle sure is in an awkward spot as if placed by our forefathers or extraterrestrial beings from a different universe or planetary system of our own and I continue to pace around it. The center is clearly where their ship was to land all of those thousands of years ago. I’m glad Bates and I are here to stop this scrutiny before it begins.

Bates? a strong man. Still bleeding and not a medic in sight. I wonder what happened to the poor bastard’s arm? Whatever got him took a bite out of my tongue as well and now the meth is really beginning to take hold.

“Bates, Have you got any more meth left?”

“The last thing you need is more meth!” Bates says as if he’s in pain.

“Bates! You’re bleeding!” I can’t believe my eyes as it looks as though one of the cowards, bastard extraterrestrial travelers has taken a bite out of Bates.

“Face us now you cowards!” I yell as I taste blood. It’s become apparent now that the radiation left residually from their intergalactic transportation has given me stage five lung cancer. I always knew this is how I would go, the bastards.

It’s true that humanity is surely doomed. In only a moment they’ve discovered my one true weakness. Lung cancer. Now I taste my mouth fill with an iron similar to what Bates tastes like. I’ll bite my tongue to distract myself from the pain of the slow cancer death I’m about to embark upon but still, operation save Bates must go on.

But.. Where has Bates gone?

“Bates! Bates you foul tasting bastard where have you gone?”

I can see Bates in the distance but surely I’ll swallow too much blood to reach him. “Bates you fool! I’ve got lung cancer. The bastards infected me with their powerful technology! Run to me, Bates!” I yell with the awful taste of copper and iron in my mouth. My mouth is turning into a lost item on the periodic table!

I’ll be dissected by scientists when I’m found despite not being an organ donor. These bastards aren’t taking my liver!

I run to Bates in haste when suddenly the bastard aliens red and blue rays of discovery shine down upon me blinding me with their flashing technology.

This entire damn wasteland is lit up! Surely, I must be living a dream. Quickly I put my last hit of acid under my tongue. If these bastards wish to take me they aren’t taking me without a trip.
If only I’d huffed more gasoline before we went on this dreadful journey.

Suddenly the wasteland is green and surrounded by a pyramid and chain link fence. Bates is a dead man. He’s much to close.

“Freeze!” The bastards yell and my body does just that. Overcome by anxiety I freeze in my tracks.

“Get on your knees with your hands at your sides!” They continue to instruct me in a much too hostile mannor. The bastards have Bates in their death machine. He’s a dead man I tell you.

I get to my knees and suddenly I snap out of my insanity. We’ve been saved! “Bates, we’ve been saved!” I yell but the foul tasting bastard doesn’t respond. “They sent the government for us, Bates!”

“They sent the government!” I yell. I suspect the army is on its way to take care of the bastards that bit Bates and gave me this black death, lung cancer.

“You have a right to remain silent. Anything you say or do can and will be used against you in a court of law.” The official says.

“I’m the hero! I’m the survivor you bastard. They’ve bitten Bates.” I yell with my face pressed to the grassland.

“He’s delirious. Sir, what did you take?” The official asks.

“Everything, you fool! We needed to commit suicide. It was our only escape from murderous torture or slow black death!” I tell them.

“We’re going to need paramedics fast. He’s a mess.” The official says to his superior.

“You must save Bates! This is operation save…” I gurgle as I become very tired; overcome by the officials secret technology. My face presses against the once desert sand now covered in earthly grass and I fall to a slumber. The bastards have won.

The End.

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 3

I lost my soul deep inside.

‚ÄčThe nightmare is the daily routine that is life itself. You don’t have to work to find your inner demons they simply find you. You are the prey left in the dark and you can’t use it to hide.
Tonight Clair is wearing a tight mini skirt and red blouse that reveals more of her than I want to see and isn’t office appropriate.
“Clair, Don’t wear that outfit again.” 
“Why? You don’t like it?” She asks completely dumbfounded as if she expected to like her sex appeal and of course my male instincts tell me to stare at her glistening cleavage but my false morality and respect for office ethics makes me want to fire the dumb fucking useless cunt and hire anyone better like I don’t know… Any man ever?
“Clair you work for Montgomery and Wilder incorporated and if you want to continue to work here you will dress office appropriate and with a decent amount of respect for yourself and your co-workers. Do you understand?” I say firmly as I think about cutting her breasts off and nailing them to my office wall. They’d be just as useless as they are now.
In that moment and just as I achieve an erection under my desk I see Mandy and Vanessa walking down the hall together and I pick up my telephone to act as though I’m talking to Carter.
“Carter? It’s Michael from 214. Have you filed the Williams 1984 report? It’s very important I receive clearance from up top before I continue with their file. Yes, yes. Of course, you did.”
“Look who I found wandering the halls Mr. Matthews. ” Mandy smiles and bites her lip a little. 
She’s an ignorant bitch that I love more than anything and looking at her beautifully full lips makes my erection continue to pulse.
“I brought you lunch, sweetheart!” sweetheart, an ignorant pet name Vanessa says as if I’m supposed to be excited. She knows I go to Rosetta for lunch daily and I look forward to it. If you can consider a three A.M break lunch and the only place you can go within convenient distance at that time something to look forward to.  It has become my routine and I’m a man of routine.
Vanessa hands me some sort of lasagna that doesn’t resemble something I would normally eat. It’s not a human afterall. I suppose there’s no human in it but the beef does look suspicious. It could be possible someone fell into the grinder.
“Do you have tonights statistics report, Clair?” I ask completely ignoring the two hard bodies I’m fucking right in front of me. The awkward moment where I begin to ponder if they’ve ever discussed anything about me.
“I can fax you a new copy right away, Michael.” Clair says as she pretends to be remotely professional for a moment.
Mandy walks away as Vanessa trots back and forth in front of my desk demanding attention like a broken puppy.
“Michael, why are you dressed like that?” she asks staring at my attire.
Today I’m wearing a black suit and tie with a white undershirt I purchased at ugh… Sears for a little under two hundred dollars. I’ve decided to cheapen my clothing purchases as my wardrobe has been depleting due to my new murderous habit.
I want to stab her in each eye with a pencil and watch her blindly stumble into things while screaming and holding what used to be her eyes.
“Because I simply do not care.” I say in a lighthearted voice as if she is the broken puppy I’m imaging her as. A puppy I’ve stabbed in the eyes with a pencil. I may have to do this if I find a stray on my walk home. The idea is continuing the pulse in my erection.
You might think of me as a sick and disturbed individual but the truth is I am your friend, neighbors, co-worker. I am your family. I am the young lady working underpaid as a cashier at the grocery store only one irate customer or bitchy bossy statement away from shooting every person in the store before killing herself. I am what you do not tell your psychiatrist about.
You don’t know you know me but you do. You walk by me every single day or at least the idea of me and yes, you should be scared because at any given time or with one uncertain wrong move anyone could become me. Remember to hand me some gum, praise me or simply be kind because when I do go postal at the office it may save you from having your brains splattered across your cubical and if a stray shot does hit you I may feel remorse or sympathy and blow your head off.
Vanessa was talking about something, quite possibly kittens or abortions; It could range really. I do not care and I nod my head in agreement.
“.. So you will come to John’s Halloween party? Good. I’m so excited.” Vanessa says as I snap back to realty.
“John who?”
“Carter, silly! He’s having a Halloween party on devil’s night because Halloween falls on a Sunday this year! We have to go!”
I nod yes. I know Vanessa is fucking John Carter and I imagine her riding his over weight belly unable to see his own penis as she rocks her hips back and forth. I know they’re fucking but I have no evidence. No source of proof ; I just simply know.
Devil’s night has intrigued me since childhood. I’ve always wanted to go on a murderous rampage or become a pyromaniac to burn down apartment buildings and watch my body count rise on the evening news but fire doesn’t intrigue me and now I have a passion to watch the pigment change in my victims eyes.
I am the beast.
“I don’t want to eat this lasagna. I want to eat at Rosetta’s. I want to have a cigarette.” I say in a more stern voice than I’ve ever used. Fuck this lasagna it is probably full of arsenic. Vanessa has instincts like any woman. She has to know I’m leaving her by now.
“Well, that’s fine. Can I come with you?” she asks in a tone that suggests she’s lying to me and it is certainly not fine. I’m intrigued by her willingness to come with me but I also want to see what would happen to her skull in trash compactor for being a liar.
“I want to eat alone!” I say as a tear comes to her eye and she walks away. 

What a useless cunt. Go sit on John Carter’s obviously small dick as it’s certainly not keeping you happy.
I need a cigarette.

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.