Tuesday, November 30, 2004

I think Goth Boy and I are breaking up. Since we've been back from DC he's been quiet and kind of peevish. He's been trying to pick fights with me about stupid little shit, but I'm not taking the bait. He got quiet on the plane and then he got really pissy when were at LAX. Well, anyone at LAX not overdosing on Zoloft would get pissy, but I mean he was huffing and rolling his eyes and giving everyone the glaring silent treatment. It was like being with a pms 13 year old.

When we got home, he walked ahead of me after insisting on carrying all the luggage himself. He even carried my make-up case. We got in the house and he dumped all the stuff on the bed and then locked himself in the bathroom. After a bit I heard the shower. I put away the stuff while I was waiting for him to unlock the door. Finally, he came out and I went in to take off my make-up and take a shower. When I came out he was gone.

I called him and he was all short with me on the phone but I just pretended I didn't notice. Then Sunday when I was at work I called him again and he didn't answer. Sunday night he called me and was like what? I said what do you mean what? And he was all well, what do you want, you called me? I said I wanted him to fuck me. He hung up. Then Sunday night, like around 230 am he crawled into bed with me. We didn't have sex, we really did just sleep.

I woke him up with a bj and then ran into the shower and locked him out. He pounded on the door, but I just told him turnabout was fair play. He took the fucking door knob off. I acted like I was pissed, but I was glad he didn't just get bitchy and stomp away.

I know what's going on. He's just de-stressing from family time. I know this. I will give him 24 more hours to fuck me good and proper or he's out on his ass. The Sex Popess knows what her High Priest needs. That's why the powers that be let me be the female. I told him he has 24 four more pouting hours. I didn't say it with my words, but I told him in my head. If he's really in sync with me, he'll get the message.


confessions of The Shadow * 7:31 AM

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Friday, November 26, 2004

Just got back from shopping. His mother kind of kicked us out of the house so she could clean and have alone time with her lover. We went trudging around some funky old shops in the snow. It was kind of fun. Most of the shops around here are cute and small and all fairytale set up for Xmas already. He bought me some earrings and some lingerie.

Yesterday was one fucking bloodbath after another. His family is one of those snipe and smile types. Where everyone smiles and acts like it's all in fun as they say really shitty catty things about each other. His mother made some snide comments to me, but about him, in a weird roundabout kind of way. Like she says I must really have a strong personality. I said yeah, what of it? Well, my son doesn't go for emotional weaklings. I hope you have staying power. I told her he was the one with the staying power, and I gave her a slow wink. She didn't think that was funny. I made everything about sex. See? I know how to play blonde. The whole time I was thinking, let me have it Bitch, you have no idea where I come from. He was all so, Mom you'll be retiring soon, have you looked into these senior cruises, to which she replied with something about how she's still got some ginger up her ass as she smiles at her boyfriend, and that she's looking forward to something more energetic. The whole thing was a big game of I'm still hot and sexy and desirable even though I'm your mother and I'm about to retire. Look at my younger boyfriend. Whoo boy, am I tired out after that nooner we just had before you two came back from your sack of shit father's. How is that tired old rag who date-raped me? Yeah, she claims Goth Boy is the product of date rape before it was chic. Can't possibly imagine that encounter.

So when we were at his dad's it was way more familiar. His dad has his head so far up his own ass, he reminds me a lot of my stepfreak except with that military edge. He asked me a lot of questions about how we met, I gave him a different answer each time. Just to be annoying. I played extra blonde over there. His stepsibs are cretins. One of them owns his own car wash and some laundromats. He's supposedly some entrapanure, and I know that's probably spelled wrong, but I don't care. He was constantly one-upping Goth Boy. To which we both pretended we were really amazed at all his accomplishments which include the fact that all his workers are legally documented to work in the US, have health insurance ( I was actually amazed at that part), and speak fluent English. I don't know how much he's charging for those carwashes, but oh boy what a business man. Goth Boy just kept nodding and saying "Bully for you".

His stepsister is the homeliest stuck up bitch I ever met. I'm not catting her down, she's obnoxiously ugly. It's like she puts effort into it or something. She's all into that Abercrombie and Fitch crap, which is supposed to look so Young American, but it's just a bunch of Gap Crap. Anyway, she doesn't wear make-up, she has her hair cut in the dorkiest page boy ever, and she wears pants with a waist band up to her breasts practically. She kept interrogating me on my political views and where I stood on this and that. I just kept looking at Goth Boy, like he was supposed to tell me what to think and say. I'm just an LA slut, what do I know about the world at large? Goth Boy was really infuriating them by telling me stuff like "We like the Democrats, they think the war on drugs is lame" and "Kerry is the most honest man in Washington" and "We can't wait for Hillary to be out first female president". I watched his dad turn purple during that whole conversation. His stepmonster is very much like my own pet monster. She's kind of chipper and cheerful in that fake way and I can tell she's had some work done. We had sex in his mom's room, his first choice for some sick reason. We had sex in his dad's home office and he fingered me in his dad's kitchen. I don't know what that's all about, but I hope it resolved some issues for him.

I actually can't wait to get on the plane tomorrow. DC has been okay, but I thought it would be different. We didn't go to a show last night. We went to go see The Grudge. It was really scarey but in the end I was mad. It was a lame ending.


confessions of The Shadow * 3:02 PM

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thursday, November 25, 2004

I'm in DC. It's freezing cold here. I don't have cold clothes. Goth Boy bought me a coat, some boots, leather gloves, and a hat and scarf set. I bought myself a wool dress and some tights. Carey called and said I told you so. I haven't run into Fugazi or MacKaye yet. We drove by the Dischord house and also the offices. We drove by a radio station where he used to intern. It was kind of weird. It made him seem more of like a guy than a mysterious person. He was a kid. He has parents. He came from some place. I'm okay with it. I wouldn't have any place to show him where I came from, even if I wanted to reveal my inner secrets. I came from nowhere. I belong to no one. I am a real live Sunnyside Orphan in the flesh.

Carey told me some hardcore shit that the guys have seen in China. I'd heard about that crap but I've never really known anything about it. I'm glad it wasn't me. I would probably still be in jail in China, except I'm a girl so they'd probably send me out to one of those fucking farms in the middle of nowhere and make money by having all the idiot villagers come pay to see the white girl with the round eyes.

When Goth Boy's mom met me she asked me what I did for a living. I told her I was a tarrot card reader, but that I was in training to become a dominatrix. She said that was lovely. She's kind of a strange chick. She's still really beautiful, but in a more natural way than my mom. My mother is a walking billboard fo her plastic surgeon. She gets the frequent flyer discount for botox and collagen now. I'm not even being sarcastic.

His mom is one of those frosty New England babes. Did you ever see that movie "Digby Goes Down"? Yeah, very much like Susan Sarandon in that movie. She doesn't give two shits about me. I could see she was starting to really frustrate Goth Boy because we've only been here since this morning and already he's had to go for a walk. I took the time to go through her vinyl collection and rip her off. I took all her Etta James, Ray Charles, and The Drifters. Goth Boy can take what he needs. I'll show him tonight what I scored. He said his dad should have some cool shit, too. I don't mind helping him rip her off. It's his legacy.

Tomorrow we go to his dad's for Thanksgiving at noon, on the dot don't be late. Then we come back to do it again here at 4pm. This should be one of those times Carey calls "an event one ought not miss". At his dad's tomorrow will be his stepmonster, his stepsibs, another couple who are friends of his dad's from the office, or the field, or the killing fields, or wherever the fuck it is his dad does whatever the fuck it is he does. His stepsibs have friends they're having over. Goth Boy is supposed to fix all the computers when he's over there. Like he's their own fucking IT department or something. He's planning on fucking up all their shit on a delay. Why would you have someone who you know hates your guts come over to fix your computer and set up your wireless network?

When we get back to his mom's we'll run into several of her friends from the save ferris place, her current fuck buddy, his mother's mother who for some reason Goth Boy refuses to even speak to or about, and who knows who else because Goth Boy says his mother's is kind of like a homeless shelter on the holidays. We are planning on leaving by 7 to go see a show or maybe a movie or whatever just to get the hell out of there. I hope she doesn't expect me to get up early in the morning to help out. Or stay late to do the dishes.

My own idiot mother has been calling me non-stop. Did I get through the airport security okay? Did I get to DC okay? Did I get to his mom's okay? How is the weather? Is it cold? Am I warm enough? She and "my father" are going to miss me tomorrow. Do I need travel money? When will she get to meet the nice gentleman who cares enough about me to introduce me to his family? I've been playing with the idea of telling her I'm pregnant and we're really in Vegas getting married. But then, that would just lead to more lies and I'm already bored with it. What if I just told her the plain fucking truth about my life.

Mommy, sit down. I have something I'd like to tell you.

I don't know you. You don't know me. It's fucked up, but I actually kind of like it that way because truth be told I can't fucking stand you and one of my worst fears is that I'll look in the mirror one day and realize I'm just like you.

I live in Long Beach because even though it's only 15 miles from your estate, it's as far from you as I can go without completely leaving the country and disappearing into another culture. I work really hard at my job. You will never know the shit I've seen and the stuff I've had to do. You could never guess the situations I've been in where I've had to just figure it out alone. I would rather ask a stranger for help than ever call you. I'd rather sell something dear to me than ever ask you for money. You and your husband and your dogs and your smug, self-righteous, hedonistic, lazy lifestyle make me sick.

I don't know exactly what I want in my life but I know that I don't want to be you. I don't want to shop at Chico's and Ann Taylor and go for lunch at the Cheesecake Factory and drink white wine with my stupid book club friends and talk shit about the gardener, the pool cleaner, the housecleaner, and my children with a bunch of other over-indulged, unintelligent, trophy wives.

In short, Mommy, I'm embarrassed by you and for you. How do you like that? I couldn't ever possibly introduce you to my friends. How could I explain how stupid you are? You're not even a good cook, or run a great household, or an excellent wife. You're an idiot. Everyone knows it. The only reason you call me all the time is that you're bored. You need something to nag about and talk to the book club morons about.

Well, here's something Mommy: you're a horrible mother. Always were, always will be. And you're boring on top of everything else.

Then I'd get up and flounce out of the room while she sat there all flustered. Of course that will never happen. I don't know what will become of us, Mommy and me.

I have to go help Goth Boy bring in firewood. He's going to make a fire for his mom. Georgetown is actually a really cool part of town. I like it. It looks like old money and stiff upper lips around here.


confessions of The Shadow * 7:03 PM

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Friday, November 19, 2004

Goth Boy and I are in a little bit of a fight. I don't really give a shit. I mean, I do. But I can't let him know that. I can't let him know that I'm a girl in any kind of way. I have to always be strong because I feel like if he sees any sign of weakness, he'll pounce and I'll be a mouse in the cat's mouth. It makes sex a little more exciting, not that we need it, but it does.

Carey said the whole thing about Goth Boy's parents is "so totally Rollins" and that he and I are like the "neo-Lydia/Rollins thing". I wasn't sure what she was talking about so I read up on it. I like that Lydia Lunch chick. I remember Carey and I went to the Parlour once to see the Unhappy Hour. I don't think they have it anymore, but when we were there she was like look there's Lydia and it was like wow, that's her in the flesh. We listened to some of her shit on the way home that night and it was like man, she's a foul-mouthed bitter bitch. I loved it. I can't find the Nicole Blackman CD I stole from Rocker Boy. I'm afraid he might've caught me and stole it back. Drag. Now I have to find a reason to get into his truck again so I can find it and steal it back.

So we're fighting because I didn't wear panties to work the other day. Big fucking deal. I just had a pussy wax and you know sometimes you just want to go full monty for a day or so. Not to even start with the whole excuse me whose pussy is this thing. It's my pussy and I'll do with her what and whom I want when I want. So he got all pissy about it and I told him that being the Sex Popess I had supernatural intuition powers and that I knew his pissy little boy tantrum wasn't about my full monty pussy but really about Thanksgiving and all that shit. I told him I knew it wasn't a true love come meet my parents kind of thing. I told him I was never expecting a big diamond and platinum ring in a Tiffany Blue box from him. I told him I just really really liked the way he fucked me and that's why I was letting him be my high priest for the time being.

I thought it would chill him out. It seemed to make him edgier. I don't know why exactly. My supernatural powers tell me it has something to do with this whole Lydia/Rollins thing. I'm working on it. I'll let you all know how it shags out.


confessions of The Shadow * 7:41 AM

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tuesday, November 16, 2004

Want to hear something so totally fucking weird? Goth Boy has a family. Isn't that so bizarre? He never talks about them. He never talks about anything. Apparently, he has a dad who's like some big wiggity shit in DC because he's like in the FBI or CIA or something. He won't tell me what his dad does. He just says he's military retired and works for a federal agency. I asked him what his mom does and he said young men and prescription drugs. She works for some social services Save Ferris non-profit foundation. He's the only child. He mentioned a brother and sister at one point, but when I quizzed him he said they're actually not related to him. His parents have been divorced his whole life and his dad remarried and she brought in some kids from a previous. I know this scenario. He doesn't like to talk about family. He acts like it all means nothing to him, so it's meaningful stuff. I dropped it at the time.

So now he says he's going back to DC for Thanksgiving and would I like to come along? Well, sure. Road trip is a road trip, and it's easier to meet up with the guys from Dischord if you're actually in their neighborhood. He's from someplace called Georgetown. I have no idea how close that is to DC. His dad lives in Arlington, Virginia. So I don't know how we're going to work it out, but we're having two Thanksgivings. One at his mom's and then one at his dad's. I asked him if I have to buy something conservative and be on my best behavior and he said absolutely not. I thought for a moment that he might be taking me because he really likes me and wants the people who mean something to him to meet me. This is not the case. Why would I think so?

These people have hurt him. They hurt him even now from far away. He's mad at them that they still have the power to hurt him and he's going back to win the game. The game is called You Can't Hurt Me. It comes in all kinds of versions. This is the child of divorced parents who should never have had a child together to begin with version. He's going to show up with this outrageous slut hottie on his arm and strut that he's the High Priest of the Sex Popess of the World. Then he will win against his father because he's younger, stronger, smarter, hotter, richer, has more opportunity, and has bagged the ultimate babe. He will win against his mother because even after everything, she hasn't turned him gay or into a woman hater, and he's all that and a bag of chips and totally ignores her. See parents? Your powers are useless on me! I am my own man out in California without you! And I fuck the Sex Popess nightly, and sometimes in the middle of the day, too depending on our schedules. Occasionally we fuck outside, but never on the the beach again because sand in the crotch is giant fucking mood breaker.

So, we'll go. It's mutual masturbation all over again. Hey! Come with me to DC and help me rub crap in my parent's faces! Okay! Sounds fun, plus I get to tell my mother to go to hell because I'll be off meeting the parents of the boy I've been fucking even though I won't tell her his name! Woohoo, let's work out our childhood dysfunction on each other! Yes, let's!


confessions of The Shadow * 7:48 AM

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thursday, November 11, 2004

I'm so moving away to Australia or France. I think I kind of hate America. Well, I like my America, but not at all that other one that's in control of everything. I just don't understand the hatred of gay people. I mean who gives a fuck? Two people want to pay extra taxes to be together, fuck 'em. What do I care? I don't see how it's hurting anyone if two people want to be together. Two girls, two boys, American, non-American, who gives a shit? What does it matter? I don't know about all this morality shit, either.

It just doesn't make any sense to me. It's like smoking or abortion. I can't stand people who smoke. I really can't. It's kind of disgusting and it makes them smell and taste gross and it's expensive and addictive and I don't agree with it at all. But I still have to pay for people who do it. They make the choice to start smoking. They actively engage in their addiction. Then they end up with CHF, or PVD, or Lung CA, or whatever the fuck they're gonna get because of it, and I have to pay for it. I pay for something I think is wrong, and bad for people. I don't hear any legislation about that shit. Now they want to roll back Roe V Wade. Roe has come out and told everyone how she wishes she hadn't started the whole thing to begin with. She now says she sees value in life and blah, blah, blah, blah, blah. That's great. I see value in life, too. I also see value in not creating life unless you can sustain it.

It's like the Democrats are saying if you can manage to get born, we'll help you out. The Republicans are saying we'll help you get born, but after that you're on your own. What the fuck? It's just bizarre. No one actually gives a shit about the children, they just don't want to make any hardcore decisions about anything. No one wants to offend anyone, except the Republicans, and I just wish I would have been able to vote for Nader and Comejo. It's all bullshit. I don't believe anything. I'm scared of my fellow Americans and how they vote and I think they're all really stupid and I was half-joking when I said I was moving to Australia or France, but honestly Australia is looking really good.


confessions of The Shadow * 3:05 PM

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Monday, November 08, 2004

So yesterday as Goth Boy was fucking my brains out the phone would not stop ringing. We took it off the hook. Afterward when Goth Boy put it back on the hook it immediately started ringing. He answered it and it was Rocker Boy. Goth Boy lost his mind. He told him if he ever called again he'd rip his balls off and stuff them down his throat. How sweet. Apparently they know each other from somewhere. Wonderful.

The phone rang again almost immediately after he hung it up. He ran to the phone and answered by saying "You're a dead man. I'm gonna hunt you down and neuter you like a gelding." Except that it was my mother calling, not Rocker Boy. She was unthrilled. Too bad. Fuck her. Mi Vida Loca.

confessions of The Shadow * 9:39 AM

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Saturday, November 06, 2004

Goth Boy got back from London last night. He was a little irritated with me that I came to pick him up in his truck. Yes, the sacred cow truck. When he started giving me shit about it on the way home, I drove so he could chill, I told him how much I'd enjoyed driving it over hill and dale and that I couldn't wait to have sex with him in the back like I'd been doing with countless others while he'd been gone. He got all quiet like he does and then he started bitching about the election. I told him I'd done my part. California and DC and New York went to Kerry. All the other retard states went for Hitler, Bush I mean. I asked him if he wanted to move to Australia or Canada with me. He stayed quiet until we got home. That's okay with me.

I told him about Carey and Rollins and how he sent her books to replace the ones she had to sell. He said he wasn't going to return the ones he'd bought. I thought that was kind of selfish. I'll steal them later and return them to her. He makes insane money and shouldn't be so selfish. If he was really into collecting he could do it hardcore instead of scooping off others in need.

My idiot mother called to tell me to vote on Tuesday. She gave me the lowdown on who and what to vote for. I always vote the exact opposite of what she tells me. Then I tell her I voted but that it's a big secret. She's such an idiot.

People were scaring me the other night when they were comparing the US with Germany right when they voted Hitler in. I didn't know he'd been elected. I always thought he kind of just took over the country. And they were saying how America is the new Rome and how it's going to collapse under the weight of it's own fat ass. It'll probably happen when America is eating a Big Mac at McDonalds. I think maybe I'll move away to France. I love pretty much everything French except the people. Or maybe I'll go to England. Or maybe I could go to Australia or New Zealand. Or I could go to Canada, but Canada is cold and I don't really care for it. England and France get cold, too. Probably it'll be Australia, New Zealand, or France. Most likely it'll be Australia or France. I like the way Australians and French people talk. I like the accent and they're both very sexually hip. Maybe I'll do a little bit in France and then go to Australia.

Over the next year I'm going to travel to both places and check them out. I'll bet if I leave the country my mother will call me way less. And also, I have to spread the gospel of the Sex Popess and check in on my congregation.



confessions of The Shadow * 11:36 AM

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Monday, November 01, 2004

Oh what fun we had last night! The WEHO party is always kind of a stale drag, but we wandered into the Abbey and there we had a lot of fun. My friend Rad is from Yugoslavia and apparently they teach boys how to sew there. Or maybe he learned it in the sweatshop orphanage he was in for a while. I don't really know, but he made himself a Robin costume that was amazing. So fucking cool. He's got a rock hard body to show it off in, too. I told him that if he was straight, the Popess would have fucked him bowlegged. He says he gets that a lot. Probably because he's not like flamboyantly gay. He's not too much of a sissy. He's still very manly without being super butch in leather. And he knows how to sew.

He got a lot of attention and everyone wanted to take pictures with him and make out with him and he was on tv and I'm glad it made him happy. I know what it's like not to get enough attention and I'm glad that after everything he's been through, he knows how to get what he needs. We tried to go to the Motherlode to get a drink but the line was outrageously long and there was a cover and it was full of little bitches anyway. So we ditched them and went to the Abbey where Rad ran into all his friends. We took up a table in the corner and ran into everyone. So many wonderful costumes. People hardly batted eyelashes at my Sex Popess Official Robes. I cracked my whip in front of the Psychic shop and accidently tore the wings off a fairy. She was cool about it, though. After that I put the whip away because the last thing the Popess needs is harrassment from LAPD. Although there were some very cute cop boys out and about and I even asked this one medic if he was on the job or in costume. Unfortunately he was on the job or I might have made out with him just to keep Goth Boy in check. But then again, self-control is so sexy. Not repression, per se, but self-control.

Some nasty old frog tried to trade a case of beer for my friend Carey. Rad rescued her, of course. And when we were weaving our way through the body-crushing crowds, we held hands like in kindergarten. That was nice. Carey went into the Psychic reader and she kicked me out to talk to her alone. I was messing up the vibe or something. She must have said something unhappy because Carey's been in a funk ever since. Funk it out I say. Shake it off and wash it away like the scent of a lover you know you'll never be with again. Walk it off.

I hope you all had a fun Halloween. I hope your November is prosperous and sexually active. I grant you all the blessing of the Sex Popess. Go forth and fuck!


confessions of The Shadow * 10:06 AM

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~