Happy Birthday

to
boira
and
zaecus!

Still Working....

For those waiting, I'm still working, but I've gotta sleep now.. It'll be Tuesday (today) sometime before it's ready. Drats. And apologies.

**fried Tin**

The Cougar's Date pt. 1

Okay….The Horriblewood Walk of Shame xml:namespace prefix = o ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:office" /?

This one is dedicated to the following who compelled me into this mess: Xandy (my writer friend. Visit her at http://www.covermyscript.com/), Kanike (the Abbott to my Costello, the Butthead to my Beavis, and the Webmonster who hides under everyone’s bed. You can see her work at http://www.rancidrainbow.com and http://www.thejokerblogs.com) and Blog Boy (Little Bro. You can’t visit him yet, but you can see his genius at work at http://www.youtube.com/thejokerblogs or check yourself into his asylum at http://www.thejokerblogs.com ). One of Xandy’s short stories inspired the idea for this, Kanike hounded me to doitdoitdoitdoit, and Blog Boy had me keep Word open waaaaay too long during my Grieving process for me not to take virtual pen in hand. Then there’s the cheerleading team, Megs, Jilldo, and Sweet Sophie (with her wretched little tree rhyme…she should be set aflame and thrown into that four-story sink hole in Toronto!...okay, well maybe that’s harsh. I love my Sweet Sophie….I just want to punch her once..really hard..right between the eyes….) Each of you (except for Xandy) deserve a swift kick to the tuckus. Or maybe reading this will be punishment enough.

Musical nods to the Everly Brothers (who gave me the Cougar’s name with their song “Cathy’s Clown”), Dave Matthews Band, Kasabian, VNV Nation, The Prodigy, Taco (not the food, youngsters. Look him up on You Tube, along with the word ‘Ritz’ and get edumacated), Sting, and Three Dog Night.

The Cougar’s Date

She watched him from across the street, this strange little man in the clown make-up and the almost-Zoot suit. He carried a knife in each gloved hand, and he was backing out of a pawn shop with two of his partners bagging money, guns, jewelry, pretty anything of any worth. He popped his head back in the door and said loudly enough for her to hear across the street, “Oh, and, don’t forget ~ tell the Falcone, Maronis, Zambonis, Macaronis and whatever other onis that are temporaaarily in charge of this town that Joker was herrre…and I’ve only just begun. oohaaAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!”

And with that, she watched him almost dance down the street behind his two henchmen, shoving a knife in each of their backs and catching their bags as they dropped to the ground unceremoniously. He jumped up and it looked like he may have clicked his heels as he hopped into the old sky blue AMC Gremlin and sped off into the dimming Gotham twilight.

God, he was hot….in a strange, clownish, murderous, psychopathic way. She’d been trailing him for days, watching how he worked, wondering what his motivations were. Surely he took some downtime, maybe went to a bar or somewhere, where she could chat him up. That was the idea. She knew that, if she could just get him alone, she’d have him out of that strange thrift store suit and grease paint before he knew it. He wouldn’t know what hit him.

( on the prowl )

The Cougar's Date pt. 2

Joker jumped out of the car and was up the steps of the old warehouse before Cathy had even gotten the heavy door of the Gremlin open enough for her to maneuver herself out of the unwieldy car. Gremlins had always been a bitch in every way. She was glad they were near extinction. Finally making her way out of the blue monstrosity, Cathy made her way up the steps and followed the Joker into the old warehouse.

Inside, it looked like it may have been a rag factory at one time. Cathy could almost see the neat rows of sewing machines, a harried woman sitting at each one repeating the same stitch for 8 to 10 hours over and over and over again. Now the place was nothing but dingy dust. She looked around and found the stairs. Yes, a two story rag factory. The boss probably would have lived here, too, to oversee his textile empire at all times. There were probably apartments near the back of the building.

“C’mere Twist Tie, follow me. My place is back herrre,” Joker said, taking Cathy’s hand and making a dash to the back of the warehouse. Cathy was in heels. She couldn’t go that fast and she faltered. The Joker stopped and looked at her.

“Can we just go at a normal pace?” she asked.

“HAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Why don’t you go at your normal pace and I’ll be back there waiting on you?” And he was off in a full run, laughing the entire way. Cathy was beginning to feel a little hurt by his attitude. Still, she followed.

When she joined Joker at his little apartment, she found a bedroom with two mattresses on the floor covered in a crumpled blue sheet and patchwork comforter. Beside it on the floor was a boom box and about half dozen CDs scattered on the floor. Adjacent to the bedroom was a small bathroom and a kitchen nook. And that was it. No money, no gold, no spoils of the Joker’s reign of terror on the Syndicate’s pawn racket. She wondered where it was, not that she was interested at all in the Joker’s riches. No, Cathy was here for one thing and one thing only.

( PAAS )