Patty Day Rave

Gawds, I hate St. Patty's day. It's not the fact that you're allowed to get dead drunk, or that it's for a saint, or because of the color green.

It's all that DAMN pinching!

As a wee child, I never really liked the color green. Of course I do now, but, even so. So all those damn little rats would come up to me, and pinch my skin with their damned sharp nails. I would in turn, punch them, usually breaking their nose. I would promptly get in trouble. And when I claimed it was because they pinched me... The damn adults would just reply cheerfully with, "Well you deserved it. You're not wearing green."

Damn them all.

In honor of this, I am wearing all black. Black leather pants. Black leather shirt and trenchcoat. Black socks. Black shoes. Black underwear. Also black bracelets, black pentagram, black contacts (you know, the crazy ones?), black eyeliner, black lipstick, black eyeshadow, black mascara, black earrings. I even bought that stuff that washes out of your hair in a day, and made my hair black. I painted over my tatoo in black. I painted my toes and nails black.

Of course, this all works out because DA has a Patty's Day Get Drunk party. You aren't allowed to wear green.

I mean, come on! The dress code at DA is black.

Of course, Brent *is* loving this. Green is his favorite color. He even died Tuffter green. Now it looks like it's molding. >_<

And Sean? Well... Sean. Sean's in one of his "moods". The one where, whenever he walks by me, he pinches my ass, making me scream like a girl, and when I hit him, he whispers in my ear that he's going to tie me down to the bed, and pinch my naked body pink...

*A-hem*

Not that that sounds all that bad...

*Cough* *sings* Secret... Agent man! Secret... Agent man!

Oh! Good! It's almost done downloading! You see, I found this site, called, "Homegrown Porn". It's the *and I quote* "the dirtiest gay porn ever caught on video". Only five bucks a pop, too. Should be interesting.

Okay. Let's see...

Damn! It's these drunk guys! They're in this... Edible underwear... Playing DDR! Oh, man, this is some funny shit! Je-sus! They are doing some dirty crap! I mean, what kind of sick fucks would do this? *laugh*

Shit! That one guy looks kind of like Sean! And that other one... Can't put my finger on it, but... He looks kinda like...

...

BRENT!!!!!

Sean and Alan last jumped Brent at 08:45 p.m., on Monday, March 17, 2003.
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Out out damn dancing game!

Hmm...I think this is a "good news, bad news" situation. The good news is, despite being drunk as shit for nearly three straight days and playing DDR for most of that time, I didn't in fact buy the game or the pads. Thank God I stole them...I don't know what I'd do to myself if I actually spent money on that awful game.

The bad news is, I must subconsciously like that game. I feel so...dirty...Oh, and while I really don't know what the hell is going on, one of my LAN buddies called me up telling me about how he found these very interesting movies of me dancing on the 'net like some two-bit whore in nothing but red underwear, however it's not as bad as it sounds. He was the one looking up gay pr0n, after all, and nobody out black mails me. Nobody. *cackles*

But still...out of all the secret vices, why that horrible, horrible game?! At least the people at work don't know...it might get ugly if Theresa found out.

Sean and Alan last jumped Brent at 11:25 p.m., on Wednesday, March 5, 2003.
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Too sexy for words

Waaaai~~~! In a fit of drunken raving, Sean stole a set of DDR pads and a home version of Dance Dance Revolution Super Ultra Maximum Cool Remix Grooving Beat-o-Rama 3001! It’s only the coolest new mix ever that came out last month! I can’t believe it! Where the hell did he get it?!

I’ve never seen someone do that many maniacs in a row. Sean was hauling ASS on Dance Dance Revolution Super Ultra Maximum Cool Remix Grooving Beat-o-Rama 3001 (I love saying that!) while DRUNK off his ASS. He beat me seventeen times at eleven-foot battle mode! Alan held his own, though, probably because he was almost as tipsy as Sean at the time. We played for nine straight hours until my feet bled, Alan accidentally stepped on Tuffter’s tail (he’s probably going to have some nasty scars…) and Sean’s liquor supply ran out. At that point, Sean sort of staggered out of the apartment wearing nothing but the edible underwear (raspberry) for a day and a half and came back with several crates of Everclear. I don’t remember much after that, except that I called Sean and myself in sick at work, and... and... O___o

I really hope Sean never recalls the camera Alan brought home for the occasion. I’m definitely uploading a few videos of Sean and Alan dancing onto the internet…who wouldn’t want to see my sweaty wasted boyfriends shaking their strawberry-flavored behinds to 217-BMP Dance Dance Revolution Super Ultra Maximum Cool Remix Grooving Beat-o-Rama 3001 HARDCORE ELECTRONICA MUSIC?! I mean, fuck, yes! Fu-…

………

…ah….ah…..sorry. Got a little excited there. That’s just such a sexy mental image, I can’t help myself. *_* This was definitely the best Hallmark Day ever… hell yes.

Sean and Alan last jumped Brent at 08:08 p.m., on Sunday, March 2, 2003.
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Holy Crap

Oh shit...this must be a record, even for me. Damn...c'mon think, Sean...the last thing I remember is Brent, wearing edible underwear, holding rope and a teddy and Alan offering me something very disgusting and very alcoholic to drink. That must've been...Hallmark Day?!

What's been going on for the past week of my life?! I kinda hope I simply passed out Friday night and have been sleeping it off for the past eight days, but Alan and Brent have both been giving me the weird looks since I woke up three hours ago, so I'm figuring the worst. Why can't I be one of those people that passes out quietly in a corner when they drink?!

Brent says he covered my ass at work, but even if I don't get fired for missing a week without any sort of advanced notice, I'm still horribly behind schedule. Looks like tonight will be an all-nighter...and I can't find my pen set...and my head fucking hurts...and why the hell have my PlayCube controllers been replaced by DDR pads?! I told both Alan and Brent that no one touches the PlayCube. Unless...no...I couldn't have...I wouldn't have...I fucking hate DDR...I would never...WHY, GOD??!! WHHHHHHHHYYYYYYYY???!!!

Sean and Alan last jumped Brent at 11:21 p.m., on Sunday, February 23, 2003.
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...

Ah... Nothing like that edible fruity underwear. Mmm, mmm, good. I personally like the cherry ones. Sean even brought home some left over Tootsie Roll Pops that someone brought from work that completed the... Well... Scene.

Also, Brent brought home pink flowers... *Roses...* (Pink... *eeeee* XD XD!!!) (Don't tell, but I really like them. I wonder if he's noticed yet... >.<)

Of course, I brought home some nifty gifts for Hallmark's Day (Brent's a little weird about the name... I don't get it...???), with some cards and a teddy I'm going to force Sean into. I'm going to ask Brent if he'll help me drug Sean with some random date rape drugs I picked up at the DA's V-Day's Dance last night. We even had the BloodyRippedBle~edingDeathHeart~LovErs (Yes, it's spelled that way) dance last night at DA. It was pretty cool. They always impressed me. I've never known contortionists could do that with bannanas and chainsaws. The cow patties were a little weird though.

Brent told me he wants to go DDR (Drunk Drunk...)ing later on. I think I might give in. Oh, yeah! The drugging of Sean! Yeah, but I'm after we get Sean all drugged and stuff, I'm going to stuff him into that teddy, put makeup on him, and do some nifty neato ghetto cornrow braids on his hair. I even borrowed some high heeled stripper high heels from Trinnie. After, Brent and I are gonna tie him down to the bed, and he can awaken to me playing him sweet nothings on my guitar about... Well, threesomes with him and Brent.

Yes. If Brent agrees to it. I hope he does. *heh* Of course if he doesn't want to help, I got a couple extra pills and a thong for him... *hehehehehe*

Well, they seem to be getting lonley with out me. I should go make... Tea for everyone... Now...

*Heh heh heh*

*HEHEHEH*

*HAHAHAHA*

*MUWHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!*

*~~ahem~~*

Of to funfunfun!

Sean and Alan last jumped Brent at 09:00 p.m., on Friday, February 14, 2003.
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The Day That Must Not Be Named!

Tomorrow is The Day That Must Not Be Named. Last year Sean, Alan and I made a pact never to hold each other to the tradition of buying chocolate and cards and crap like that... we decided that really good sex was all Hallmark Day (oh crap! I named it! >.<) needs to be truly fine.

Despite that, I bought some chocolate at the corner store and put some flowers in a vase on the table (pink, because I'm beginning to think Alan has a thing for pink...). I'm going to make Sean stay home from work and Alan stay away from the clubs so that we can sit around all day doing what we do best--drinking, dancing, playing video games, and licking the seven pairs of fruity edible underwear I purchased last week off each other's screaming flesh.

I'm not one for sappy romance, but a practical day like that? Who could say no?

Maybe if Sean and Alan get REALLY inebriated I'll be able to talk them into a round of DDR (in this case, 'Drunk Drunk Revolution') down at the arcade. It's the funniest thing in the world. ^______^

Sean and Alan last jumped Brent at 07:26 p.m., on Thursday, February 13, 2003.
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*w00tmonkeys*

Well. The house has been clean for over a week. *Lalala* Please excuse my random singing. I've been busy using the makeup that Sean gave me. It's raven black, death gray, death pixy glitter white, velvet death, death blood, and corpse white. It's by the famous Death Co. It made me so happy. Guarenteed to stick for at least 12 hours or you money back... (I don't know if that's a good thing or a bad thing... 0_o;;;)

Well, anyway, I'm glad that Brent hasn't heard the squeaking from the closet, to which when it happens, I throw a brick in it. I told him there were mice in there. I think Sean might suspect something, but maybe not. That might involve thinking.

Everything seems back to normal, except for the clean house. It made me happy but... It's just not right. To fix it, I'm gonna throw a party next week.

That and Sean is bitching about how he can't find anything. I mean, what the hell? I stacked everything neatly, made labels, and even painted bit signs to place above/on everything to say exactly where it is... How much eaiser could it get?

Well, I'm off to DA. Talk to you later... Wait. Brent! No don't put that there... Or... Hey!

Well... I guess I could put of DA a little longer.

*Gringrin*

Come back here, you!

Sean and Alan last jumped Brent at 07:14 p.m., on Saturday, February 1, 2003.
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Ahh...peaceful at last

Yep, as I figured, Alan's getting tired of his cleaning binge so things have really calmed down here. Brent gave me an "X-mas" present of a memory card, but I suspect it's actually to apologize for the whole Price fiasco. I can't thank God enough for that bastard leaving permanently. Maybe he was transferred to another city. In any case, I hope he's gone for good.

But yeah, back to the present. Well, the easiest way to make me feel horribly guilty is to buy stuff for me without asking for something in return, so I had to buy Brent a pair of cargo pants (with extra pockets and zippers!), because I couldn't think of anything else he might need (except maybe a body bag for Tuffter, but I don't think he'd appreciate that). And, since it'd be rude to give Brent something and not Alan, I bought Alan a makeup kit to use for "Dark Angst." While I do actually have some fashion sense, I know nothing about makeup or gothic facepaint or whatever it's called, so I'm kinda hoping Alan's not just being polite about accepting my gift.

If there's one thing I can't stand, it's a useless gift. But at least now I no longer feel pangs of conscience. Stupid conscience.

Anyway, now there's nothing left to do but settle in front of the ol' tube and hack armies of the undead in my newest game. Ah, armies of the undead, where whould I be without thee?

Sean and Alan last jumped Brent at 09:41 p.m., on Friday, January 31, 2003.
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Calling Mister Clean, come in, Clean...

Brent here! That’s right, I’m not dead or anything, though my brain might be. Shock will do that to you. There’s just something a little unusual about a full-grown man prancing around in a pink apron with a feather duster. He’s even twisted some pipecleaners (where’d those come from?) into a tiara.

Oh, yeah, I was talking about Alan. I’d definitely be dead if it were Sean doing the twirling. >.> Serena gave me a call some time last week—she saw Alan prance (there is NO other word for it) out of the apartment, break some guy’s nose and then drag him through our door. I figure it must be someone from Dark Angst, right? Anyway, there was no blood on the carpet, so it’s all good. Alan’s been cleaning EVER SINCE. At first it was a nice change being able to, you know, see the walls beneath the film of grime, but now…! I mean, the floor’s not even sticky anymore—he wiped up all the spills! I keep falling over, it’s so… so sparkly…and… I suspect that the black carpet in the bedroom might actually be blue!

Oh, that and he’s started asking his Mister Clean boxes for advice. And he keeps sending Sean out for more dish detergent. We don’t own that many dishes, do we? I suspect he may be planning to wash Tuffter behind my back. I’d better hide my cute little darling before Alan get’s his dirty-…er, clean little paws on him.

Oh, yeah. Price has stopped dropping by…that’s sort of a good thing. I guess he’s finally figured out that I’m quite happy where I am. Sean’s speaking to me again on the bus ride to work, but that might be because I gave him a belated X-mas present—another memory card. The way to that man’s heart is through his Playcube 5X.

Ah, it’s just as well. Things could be worse.

Sean and Alan last jumped Brent at 07:41 p.m., on Sunday, January 26, 2003.
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I'm sure this doesn't count as normal

Huh, well the cop's mysteriously vanished. I guess he got the hint and decided to stop pissing Alan and myself off by "seeing" Brent. I'm feeling a lot better. My little mood swings seem to come and go, nothing to get worried about, and now the the affects of France are fading, so too are my fatalistic attitudes. Funny that. *shrugs*

In other news, Alan's doing his spring cleaning, which basically boils down to him running around in nothing but a pink apron and dusting, sweeping and doing household cleaning type stuff. Generally this would be a good thing as even I get tired of the constant layer of grime in our apartment (not tired enough to do anything about it, mind you), but he's rearranging my stuff as well, which means I can't find jack. I have my own system of organization, thank you very much, and while that may look like a random pile of crap, to me it's actually a logically arranged, highly functional random pile of crap. Also he's always getting in the way of the tv. Yeah, Alan has a nice body, but I was really trying to watch that series of car chases and big arse explosions. That's got both the "sexy" and "badass" factors going. And have I mentioned that that pink apron of his makes Christopher Lowell look straight? Yeah, and Alan's the one who's always claiming to be bi.

But it is all rather endearing...not that I consider Alan in any way endearing. Obviously I wouldn't find anything charming or cute about the way he's dancing around so happily with that look of joy on his face...Oh hell, I'm going to shut up before I say something completely smushy and emotional.

Sean and Alan last jumped Brent at 10:41 p.m., on Thursday, January 23, 2003.
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*Sing* Deck the cop with myy-yyy fii-iist! Tralalalala....lalal

Ever since Sean came home, all trussed up in his little "French forgien thingy" or whatever the hell he called it (Damn, it was a strange turn-off), I've locked my self in this room with my drums, and 12 36-packs of chicken ramen.

I've been in here since he came home...

I've written over 16 dark angsty goth love songs that are... sadly to say... only to drum solos... Yeah, I accidently left Gerald outside in the living room... >.< *Doh*

8 were about my love for Sean and how his frag-e-le Frenchness hurts my heart, 6 were about Brent and how I hate that damn cop, and the last two were about my love of chicken ramen noodles. *Hey! If you had been living off of nothing but dry chicken ramen noodles for the past five days, you'd write gothic love poetry/music to it too!*

But that cop. I know he's been out there. And I know he's been sleeping with Brent.

And I remember that little fucker, too. He's the fag that always hits on me when I get taken in for "offensive drunk" charges. And I wouldn't date or sleep with him in a milllion years. And I've dated and slept with a lot of people...

Of course, when he hits on me I usually just remind him I'm already dating two guys... Holy shit... Could that be how he knows... Is that...

Whooo...That combined with Sean and Brent's little... Thing going on about the cop, is making me depressed. This is going to be a long day. I'm really down in a deep blue funk. There's only one thing I can do when this happens.

Wait 'till Sean and Brent leave for work...

Put on an old Spice Girls and Hanson CD...

Find that pink apron and my featherduster...

Go out side and kick the FUCKING ASS of that mo-fo cop, and deck him till his light go out...

Lock him in the closet, and give him only bread and water and don't tell Brent or Sean (Because, damnit! I'm jealous!)...

AND CLEAN LIKE I'VE NEVER CLEANED BEFORE!

Sean and Alan last jumped Brent at 11:12 a.m., on Saturday, January 18, 2003.
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Whatever

Brent's looking at me. I can feel his eyes on the back of my head. Maybe he wants me to be jealous. Maybe I should be. No, I definitely should be. Alan flirts with everything that moves. That's normal. Brent's never done anything like...well...Price before.

I don't know. It's not that I don't care; after all, Brent and Alan are by far the most important people in my life. I guess, right now, I feel tired more than anything. Relationships are too fucking hard to keep up with. They take so much time and energy and guessing that I'm beginning to wonder if it's worth it. Correction. I don't think it's worth it.

Right now I'm so damned tired. I wish I could just go to sleep and not worry about Brent and Theresa and deadlines and gay cops. I don't even feel like playing video games. I guess this is what so-called ennui is...

God...the fridge has nothing but beer, ramen and microwave burritos. This place is a fucking dump.

Sean and Alan last jumped Brent at 10:36 p.m., on Tuesday, January 14, 2003.
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Oh. My.

It looks like everyone is home again--for the first time in weeks. This is a good thing, I think... Alan's back from cavorting around in various clubs, Sean's almost lost the odd half-french accent he picked up over the break, Tuffter is healthy and (I think) happy...

The only problem that Price is included in the 'everyone'. I came home from work with Sean today and he was sitting in the living room drinking my tea, reading one of the fashion magazines Alan subscribes to.

I'm not really sure what I expected, but I didn't think Sean would not care.... Alan wouldn't give a damn, but that's normal. I mean, Sean's not a very affectionate person, and he's not that emotional, and I guess he's kind of a jerk at time, but he hates all authority figures with a burning passion, and Price...

I didn't really mean to sleep with him--I just didn't want to go to jail. I didn't want a criminal record. He wasn't bad looking and I was a little lonely with everyone gone... I mean, it's not like I care about him at all...

Well. Somehow Sean's not caring about it makes me feel even worse.

Um....but... yeah. That's all. I'm going to go take a shower.

Sean and Alan last jumped Brent at 10:13 p.m., on Thursday, January 9, 2003.
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Er...I'm home??

Okaaaay...where to begin? Well, I was out of town briefly on a business meeting. Don't laugh! I'm serious! The meeting went okay, but once it finished, I ended up getting drunk with another guy and joining the French foreign legion. Yeah, laugh it up, asshole. But it's true.

Needless to say, I really don't remember that much due to extreme amounts of alcohol (Hey! I had every right in a situation like that!), but the war between France and Luxemburg ended peacefully and I managed to skip on home before even seeing fighting...unless you count that incident in the bar with the guy arguing that RPGs are only good when played multiplayer-online. Yeah right, damn Frenchie.

Anyway, I came home with a basic knowledge of French, a taste for good wine and an overwhelming urge to watch soccer. And that would have been the end of the story if I hadn't bumped into a policeman hanging around right outside the apartment door. When I reached for my key, he asks, "what are you doing here?"

Hmm, lemme think about that...maybe...I OWN THE FUCKING DUMP???!!! Closer investigation revealed Brent's been "seeing" this dude. I don't know what exactly that means, but either way, Brent neglected to tell Flamey the Cop that he was already living with two other men.

Maybe I should be pissed. Maybe I should be jealous. Maybe I should be laughing hysterically at the sheer absurdity my life has become. Instead I'm going to grab a beer, sort through my e-mail, maybe watch an action flick or something, and remind Brent if anyone disturbs me, himself and Alan excluded, I'm going to go French Resistance on their ass.

Grrr....have I mentioned I've a deep hatred of all authority figures?

Sean and Alan last jumped Brent at 10:12 p.m., on Tuesday, January 7, 2003.
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Oh... Whoops

... And so X-mas was great and I... Oh wait.

Damn. Didn't Brent mention a few weeks ago that Sean was missing?

Hm. I wonder if I should have gotten up of my lazy ass and told him Sean went on this business trip thing and should be back by tonight...

I mean, the 17th season reruns of Southpark was on... Should I feel guilty? Should I have told him. {{Worry Worry}}...

...

Nah.

So any way... X-mas was good and...

(And if that cop comes near Brent one more time, I'm going to eat his screaming flesh, and bury him in our landlady's bathroom!!!)

Sean and Alan last jumped Brent at 08:23 p.m., on Tuesday, January 7, 2003.
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Jingle bells...jingle bells...

……………………………………………………I’m so alone.

Sean disappeared one morning about a week ago. Seriously. I woke up and he was just gone. Alan noticed that we were missing a bottle or two of booze (he keeps track of these things) and one of the trenchcoats in the closet. But Sean he even left his flannel jacket! He never goes anywhere without that thing! I’m really worried now… what if he never shows up again? What if he’s…living under a bridge somewhere? I don’t know if he could make it like I can on the streets. ;_;

Alan stayed around though, and we had a few lazy days together until X-Mas. That evening was nice, he bought nice wine and I even had a little—I gave him a massage. We didn’t have a real tree (aren’t many left these days), just an inflatable mini-tree with sticker ornaments, but it was cozy and pretty.

Yesterday Alan went out clubbing and I *was* going to stay home, until Price-the-super-cop showed up and used his police tools to break into our apartment and coerce me into eating dinner with him.

I wonder if that’s illegal? He didn’t have a warrant…..

……I thought that when you’re in love with someone they’re supposed to keep other guys away from you? I’m sleeping with two people, yet I’m still being forced into unwilling dinner dates with a third.

Then again, I am getting pretty lonely. And Price does get free donuts down the street…..

……sean? …….alan? where are youuuuuuuu?

Seems like I’m always on my own these days… everyone else is always hibernating or gone… fuuuuuuu. S’depressing. _o_;;;

Sean and Alan last jumped Brent at 11:13 p.m., on Friday, December 27, 2002.
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*Yaaaaawn*

Oh MAN! Do I feel better! Dang, it's early! Those winter hibertnations are great, seeing as winter is only a week or so long now, as we all know! (Just remember the Campagien 2050? Global Warming is your friend!) Yeah. So...

Dude. What the hell? Why is there a policeman at the door? I'm not answering it. I'm not going back on the day I woke up!

Hm. What's this? "What kind of drunk are you?" Hm.

What kind of drunk are you?

*hehe* That sounds like penis...

Sean and Alan last jumped Brent at 08:01 a.m., on Tuesday, December 17, 2002.
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Wot tha?!

Just for kicks and giggles I decided to take Sean's test. It's about drunks, see:


What kind of drunk are you?

Huh. Not that it really matters, given that I don't drink--just my tea, that is! Really, tea is so much better (tasting and much healthier) than alcohol, especially when someone makes it for you, like Sean did tonight. It tastes a little funny, but given his cooking abilities, boiling water might be kinda tough.... hehehe. I think he may have been confused thou, cause I saw him puttting away a bottle afterwards--and everyonenn knows ytou don't need hard liqoer to make tea...

....i feel all warm and fuzzy inside. heeeee. ^______^

Sean and Alan last jumped Brent at 08:14 p.m., on Sunday, December 15, 2002.
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Is it still December?

Okay....so I wake up from a nice long nap, and it's fucking freezing. There's no heat, no lights, no beer...Brent was gone. And after I had restored our power, I called up Theresa who told me Brent was crashing with her. Apparently he forgot how to pay the electric bills and go to the grocery store. What the hell? I even left envelopes of money sitting on the counter, neatly labelled and all that shit. I felt like bloody Martha Stuart! (after she got out on parole, of course). Alan's still asleep, but when you're up, you're up. There's always the arcades, I suppose.

See, to me, the month of December is completely pointless. We should just skip it and go straight to New Years. That's why I make a point of sleeping through most of it. I do enough work to keep my job, and bribe Theresa by doing things she'd like me to do, but otherwise, I prefer catching up on my lost sleep-time this season.

Dammit, how many times do I have to say, I'm not a drunk! Much less a philosophical drunk! I don't drink large quantities of alcohol then go on pseudo-intellectual rants and raves about religion or politics or the sorry state of human existence....not the pseudo-intellectual rants, anyway...

Sean and Alan last jumped Brent at 07:22 p.m., on Wednesday, December 11, 2002.
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ooogh.

at theresa's. just woke up. must...rouse energy to hit shift key....

Okay. With tea I have enough strength to do it. Last night we went out partying and I didn't get home till seven this morning, and seriously--my whole body is sore. What happened was, the party we were at was busted by the cops. Theresa disappeared (she's good at doing that!) before anyone was arrested, but I was shoved into a closet and only got out as the police started putting people into cars.

That's how I met Price. He's this tall guy, wavy brown hair and blue eyes (very blue), about thirty, and apparently the flaming homosexual of the police precinct. When he approached me I started bawling--after all, I don't want to be a convict like Alan--but he ruffled my hair and gave me the breathawhatsit test. I passed--I don't drink--and he told me that if I came with him, he'd personally guarantee I wouldn't spend the night in jail.

We had coffee and saw a movie, and then he parked the car and things got friendly. I figure, at least he's good looking and smart, and Alan and Sean were asleep, and ... now I know what cops really use those handcuffs for.

This was all well and good, but today Price came by Theresa's (he dropped me off) and asked me out to lunch. I hold him I was already living with two men, he said -- "well, what's one more?" and left me his number and a rose. Theresa just laughed at me and told me most men would prefer a night in the slammer to a date with Poofy Price.

_o_ I took a cue from Tuffter and fell asleep on her couch again....I want Sean and Alan back.... nothing complicated like this ever happens when they're around. Of course, they never give me flowers either. But their lack of sweet gestures is made up for by....uh.... their affection?

..........guuuuuuuuuuu. I get my paycheck Friday...

Sean and Alan last jumped Brent at 05:01 p.m., on Tuesday, December 10, 2002.
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What's going on?

....okay. This is really wierd, even by my standards. I tried to brush this off as too many drinks, a night late on the town, anything--but something is really wrong!

Sean and Alan haven't moved for the past three days. They're even less active than Tuffter! I got home (I'd had lunch with Theresa) and discovered the refrigerator completely empty, the power out entirely (I couldn't get anything to turn on!) and all the blankets, pillows, clothes and towels piled onto the bed. The room had an almost nest-like quality to it. Somewhere in the midst I found Sean and Alan, and they're just curled up there, sleeping, not even snoring...

Somebody help me!

.....

So. I haven't eaten in three days. Yesterday I started seeing things--mostly obscene things involving food...yes, that's how hungry I was. Finally, though, I figured out that Alan and Sean must have forgotten to pay the electricity bill (it was daaaark and coooold. No heat.) and proceeded to crawl on hands and knees to our landlady (the lady bit is a bit of an overstatement). I'm using her computer to send out a cry for help.

......

............>.>

.................just got an e-mail from Theresa.

From : "theresa"
To : "Brent"
CC:
Subject : Re: Ohpleasegodhelp
Date : Mon, 09 Dec, 8:40:47

Brent--
Didn't Sean tell you about this? Every year he files for a week or three of vacation time, right around X-mas, our beloved, non-offensive, non-denominational winter holiday. Then he holes up with a keg or two and hibernates. Where were you at this time last year? According to Sean it's the only thing that keeps him going through the long stretches of work time--that's a load of bull, he never works that much anyway. I guess he's got Alan roped into this, too.

Are you saying you've been sitting in the dark, starving for three days straight? Don't you have any money? (Don't answer that. I know. I know. Knowing you, you probably need a clean set of clothes, too.) I'll come pick you up at your apartment in half an hour, you can eat at my place and I’ll let you borrow some of my jeans. They’ll probably fit, especially if you haven’t been eating. Didn't I tell you living with people like Alan and Sean was bad for your health?

--Theresa

....hibernating?! My boyfriends are hibernating?! What?! The hell?! I thought they were deathly ill or something! Why wasn’t I informed of this? Why am I the last to know about everything? They didn’t leave me any food or money—and the bills aren’t paid, and it was dark and scary and fecking freezing and I couldn't find my jacket in the big pile of crap in the bedroom, and…

….I’m going to go wait on the curb for Theresa. I’ll bring a hat. Maybe people will throw coins at me. ;_;

Sean and Alan last jumped Brent at 08:48 p.m., on Monday, December 9, 2002.
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Bed... Sleep... Good

Mmm... I've been sooo... Sleepy... Lately...

Do you know why? This happens to Sean and I every winter. I think I'm going to go and eat 15 cups of raman and sleep...

Or maybe just... sleep... nooooo..w.w.

*Zzzzzz*

Sean and Alan last jumped Brent at 10:30 p.m., on Friday, December 6, 2002.
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I feel like chicken tonight, chicken tonight~

So, I went to work today! With Sean! Always an adventure! And rode the bus again for the first time in weeks! Joy! I have been sitting still all day!

Theresa was glad to see me, I think, and she apologized for throwing me out onto the street in a fit of panic over that status of her expensive carpets. I’m going to help her clean the mess up (she claims it stained, but I mean, how is that possible?) later this week. All is right, there.

I went and got some new clothing, since all of mine are now a disgusting shade of black. I now own one wearable pair of cargo pants, one set of nastyblack! jeans, a tank top, a sweater, plus my already black fishnets. It doesn’t make for a good work atmosphere. ;_; Today some chick cornered me in the copy room and wanted to Xerox …. Well.

Maybe I should make Alan pay for my new clothes, since this is all I’ll be wearing until next month sometime. >.>

Anyway, since it’s December, it’s time to figure out what to get Sean and Alan for X-mas. (The TV says that ‘X-mas’ is less offensive to minorities and allows everyone to enjoy the non-denominational holiday of December 25th. I think maybe some guy was born then, maybe. Dunno.) Generally the three of us have a rule—that’s the No Presents Dammit Rule, because if one person forgets (and someone always does) they look like an ass when everyone else remembers. ….but….. I want to get something nice for them.

So. What can I buy, given that I’m broke and nearly starving? I’m hoping to earn some extra money with Theresa and find something really super special. XD I have this great idea for a story, about a really strong guy with this magic sword… if I can sell it, I’ll be able to afford gifts.

If all else fails, I’ll just sell my body. XD

Sean and Alan last jumped Brent at 06:18 p.m., on Monday, December 2, 2002.
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'Tis the season to somethingsomething

Wha...I'm up, I'm up. How long was I out? Last thing I remember was Brent prying the bottle of vodka from my hands and dragging me by my feet to the bedroom. I'm sure my imagination can fill in the blanks...

Anyway, now that Thanksgiving is over and I've gotten the requisite 48 hours of sleep, it's back to the grindstone. Deadlines, deadlines, deadlines. Sometimes I wish I didn't procrastinate to the bitter end. Theresa cuts less slack than usual during holiday seasons. Oh well. It felt good to ignore the usual pressures, if just for a few days vacation.

I think I need a change of pace...not that Brent homeless wasn't a change of pace. I guess I just want something different without really being different. You know, see new people, play new games, earn money in new and exciting ways (preferably not involving either prostitution or the black market). I always feel strange holiday season.

But I am thankful. Don't tell Brent or Alan I said that, because they'd never let me live that down, if they knew I'm not a complete ass and do in fact appreciate how lucky I am. I've got a steady job, co-workers I like, and two people who accept all my quirks and foibles, and who I can tolerate being with for large chunks of time. I try not to think too much about the future, but when I really think about what Alan and Brent mean to me, I get that old Beatles song, "64," stuck in my head.

I know, it's absolutely disgusting and saccharine. Someone shoot me. The cloying sappiness of it all is making me nauseous. See why I hate this season?

Sean and Alan last jumped Brent at 09:17 p.m., on Saturday, November 30, 2002.
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6,000 flavors of Raman and still going!

Ah, I'm so stuffed. I think I pigged out a little bit on the raman, but hey it's, 1. Thanksgiving, and 2. It was on sale for 50 pack for 5 cents, which is one more than the regular price. Three of the four cabnits are stuffed with raman. I got every flavor, too. Did you know that there's now a candycorn flavor? It was really good. It just seemed Thanksgiving traditional, ya know?

But I even seemed to have forgiven/apoligized to Brent in some kind of unspoken way. He even shared some of the gummies with me. (Even thought the homeless thing still does freak me out a bit, but yeah. It was so pathetic... I just can't stay mad at Brent!) Heck, I even fed Tuffter a raman noodle, and it really seemed to like it, at least as far as I could tell.

We all put in some food and had a great time. We even agreed on some music to listen to. Man, Mozart never gets old! (... And neither does Sean grabbing the wine bottle and chugging it like... Well, Sean...)

And after we ate everything that was sitting out and probaly gained ten pounds, we sat and watched Sean drunkedly play some of the old-school FF games. I think he played 30 and 26. Damn, that's old. But man! It was better than any "traditional" Thanksgiving movie, anyday!

And so, Thanksgiving was good. And I think it's about to get better. I just saw Brent dragging Sean off towards the bedroom and beckoning me to follow.

Ah, you can't get more grateful that this!

Sean and Alan last jumped Brent at 07:25 p.m., on Thursday, November 28, 2002.
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Happy Thanks of Giving day!

Another year, another interesting Thanksgiving. It's been a while, but Alan seems to have mostly forgotten about the trench coat affair. I would make him apologize, but on a holiday (even a cheap excuse to celebrate, like this one) should be a truce, I guess.

I tried to call my parents but I think they've moved again, so I couldn't get ahold of them. Therefore, the three of us had to make our own dinner. My family doesn't exactly stay in close contact, so we're scattered all over the place all the time... Still, I can't think of anywhere I'd rather be than here! We ordered some Chinese take-out, a pizza, and got some turkey sandwhiches for tradition's sake. Alan cooked ramen, I bought some gummy worms, chocolates and a frozen pie, Sean bought a bottle of cheap wine. We spread it out on the living room floor to eat. ^_^

So, yeah. It was a good day. Even Tuffter was less apathetic than usual--he really liked the pizza crusts I fed him. I'm thankful that this year--for the second year in a row!--I'm not living under a bridge. (Don't tell Sean I said that, though, he'll probably string me up for giving in to the Thanksgiving spirit... >.> )

Thassall! I'm going to go see if there's any pie left.

Sean and Alan last jumped Brent at 07:06 p.m., on Thursday, November 28, 2002.
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Back to normal?

Well, at least Alan and Brent can play nice in the same room together. I think Alan feels kinda guilty about the whole Brent-as-a-homeless-person thing. And Brent's not trying to provoke Alan anymore, so things are mostly better.

I say mostly because I get this vague feeling we're sitting on a powder keg and someone's playing with matches. I don't think Alan's entirely forgiven Brent for whatever he did for revenge and vice versa, so I'm just dying of suspense to see what happens. Not really. Just thought I'd feign enthusiasm to make it seem like I have some interest in my fellow roomies.

...Not that I don't...it's just...yeah. They both need to mellow out and stop staring at each other like that...it's not a good look.

Anyway, Thanksgiving is coming up. As Americans, we can celebrate our heritage of using the natives' generosity to survive through the winter then committing mass genocide when they were off guard. Yay! ....I'm sorry, that wasn't necessary. I actually like Thanksgiving; I'm just not in a very good mood right now. I wish Theresa would let me work on that project Linda is spear-heading. What I'm doing currently is so boring and tedious. It seems like all I do is pay the bills nowadays....

Eeesh...ignore me! I'm being selfish and petty! I'll post later when I'm feeling better.

Sean and Alan last jumped Brent at 06:25 p.m., on Sunday, November 24, 2002.
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Home again!

It's so nice to be back here, even if Alan is around. Yesterday Sean tromped up to my bridge and demanded that I return with him. I decided to agree, most because the weather's getting colder at night (yay for global warming and short winters!) and I've come down with a bit of a cough.

Sean's really much more than the tough, complex-riddled cynical starving artist he appears to be. Or, at least, he's got a soft side that shows through on rare occassion. I've never had someone rescue me from under a bridge twice... It's great to be back in familiar territory, though. Back to the dirty walls, cinderblock tables and Tuffter's little perch on the porch. Even the permeating stench of alcohol doesn't bother me anymore.

Theresa's not even mad at me for flooding her house, and is still keeping my blackmail materials. For now, though, I'm content to wait for Alan's apology.

Thanksgiving is coming up this week, but I'm not sure what to do. Should I offer to make dinner, or maybe take Sean and Alan (if he's good) home to my family? Or will we just have Esay-Mac in real bowls instead of plastic ones, like last year? Hmmmmmm.....

Sean and Alan last jumped Brent at 01:59 p.m., on Sunday, November 24, 2002.
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Okay. Hold the phone!

Wait...

Sean... Are you telling me that Brent was homeless *before*???

Okay, now I'm confused...

Sean and Alan last jumped Brent at 07:38 p.m., on Saturday, November 23, 2002.
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Interesting times

Okay...at least Brent is alive. I hadn't seen him for the past couple of days. I did today. I was at the bus station going to work when I see a grungy, forlorn figure with a filthy rodent on his shoulder come out from under the nearby over pass.

Brent's homeless. Theresa apparently kicked him out for flooding her kitchen...and bathroom and living room and bed room and...well, you get the idea. He's been homeless since Monday. He's too poor to rent an apartment and too angry to come home, and since he's lived there before...

Er, I really shouldn't be spreading dirt from Brent's past, but hell! It's a funny story. See, I first met Brent in an arcade. I was more than a little drunk, and high on my current winning streak in Soul Caliber, I challenged this bleach blonde kid (that's Brent for all you slow people) to a round of DDR, not realizing it's a game that requires you to, you know, move and stuff. Needless to say, after about 10 seconds into Paranoia on maniac, I went into a seizure and passed out.

I woke up under the aforementioned bridge to a very worried looking Brent. He was afraid to leave me at the arcade (not knowing everyone there is quite used to me passing out) and didn't have enough money to get me a taxi to the hospital so he took me "home."

I couldn't help but feel sorry for a guy whose sole possessions are a cardboard box, a dead squirrel, a pet rock and enough change for laundry and/or DDR, so I offered him a place to stay until he could "get on his feet." Yeah, I have a thing for dead beat men, I think....

Shit, I'm getting nostalgic. I think I'm going to make Alan let Brent come back. It's my apartment, dammit! And Brent looked so pathetic just standing there....Alan's not hard-hearted or anything...just a hardass (heheheh).

Sean and Alan last jumped Brent at 08:56 p.m., on Thursday, November 21, 2002.
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Oh, monkeys!!!

No. No... I just... Refuse! Refuse to give into this blackmail! Just because there's a lot of... *pink*... stuff in there, doesn't mean you can blackmail me. And Theresa wearing the Diva shirt! Damn boy, you better run. That was expensive.

Even I don't sink that low... Well...

Okay, I do. But that's not the point! This is my life were dealing with! If you even touch one hair on those bunny slipper's heads, I'll smack you down so hard before you can even say "Bob's your uncle!"

...So.

No, I refuse to give in. I will think of something better to get revenge with...

Much... Much... Better.

Sean and Alan last jumped Brent at 08:04 a.m., on Wednesday, November 18, 2002.
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Aw crap...

I don't know what's going on. I don't care what's going on. I said I wouldn't get involved, and I won't. Alan looks like someone pissed in his ramen then used his Armani as a hanky, and whatever Brent's up to...Brent + revenge = scary. Everyone's going insane or getting pissed or both. And here I thought I was messed up because of an abnormal fear of monkeys.

Don't touch that window! They'll come in, throw poo on you and abduct your princess!

Sean and Alan last jumped Brent at 10:28 p.m., on Sunday, November 17, 2002.
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Yes, oh yes.

What's wrong, Alan? Missing something?

I'm not a person well suited for revenge. It doesn't really come naturally to me, as I'm generally way too nice to everyone. Well, Alan deserves it. The box was a low blow to be sure, but my hair! My skin! My Tuffter!

What's so special about this box, you good people might be asking? (Of course, you might not be, but I'm going to tell you anyway. That is, er, if you keep reading.)

Alan's box contains the depths of his truly twisted personality. It highlights both fetishes and fears, and... well, if it got around that Alan owned some of the contents of that innocent cardboard container, he'd never live it down - at least, he wouldn't if he weren't arrested or mobbed before the crowds of Dark Angst got ahold of him.

.....yeah, it's pretty embarassing. I blackmail! I blackmail! Now that my hair's somewhat normal and I'm no longer blue, I don't feel so horribly mean, but that doesn't mean I'm going to go easy on him at all.

....although, I am feeling a tad homesick. The smell of nasty old beer, the sound of video game battles filtering through the poorly insulated walls, the leaky faucet that drips every 1.34 seconds.... that, and I'm a little lonely. It's wierd not sleeping crammed between two sweaty guys and being kicked constatly, all night long...

Theresa and I are dropping by tomorrow to give Sean a few things for work. Hopefully the apartment is still standing! I'm going to make sure she wears the new shirt I....er...... 'aqquired' for her. It's very....pink. Maybe Alan will apologize for making me miserable for borrowing an article of clothing, and I'll be able to go home again. Yeah, home. *crosses fingers*

Brent out!

Sean and Alan last jumped Brent at 08:57 p.m., on Sunday, November 17, 2002.
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No... You didn't...

WHERE THE FUCK IS MY BOX????

Sean and Alan last jumped Brent at 08:32 p.m., on Saturday, November 16, 2002.
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Bwa ha ha.

As of very late last night while Alan was clubbing, phase one in my nefarious scheme of revenge is complete.

MWA HA HA HA!

Sean and Alan last jumped Brent at 07:08 a.m., on Friday, November 15, 2002.
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Evil foreboading... Like bad milk...

Well... It all seemed okay, but...

Does it seem bad to you that Brent gathered up his clothes calmly, and as he walked to the door let out this dark burst of maniacal laughter that consisted of continous "Muwhahahas" as he waved his hands in the air? And that lighting crashed out side and it was a nice, sunny day? And he said, "Oh you just wait," as he left?

Is that... bad?

It is, isn't it...

Crap.

I better go get Sean and get him even more drunk, and put a Soul Calibur game in, and act like the Donkey Kong thing was all a dream. No one better mention it around him for a couple of days! I'm warning you!

Also, you don't think Brent could *really* do something *that* bad, right? I can't think of anything that horrible...

Right? Right?

Sean and Alan last jumped Brent at 09:26 p.m., on Thursday, November 14, 2002.
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Monkey pull lever, monkey get beaten senseless by me

Hey, guess what! I get this call from my best buddy Warren and he kinda laments about Sandra, "bitchbitch, whinewhine, girls are crazy"...yanno, the usual, then he asks if I'm ever going to play Quake again. I'm kinda like "Yeah, soon, it's just I really want to beat some of those NES games before you pick up the system...Donkey Kong for example. I'm having a lot of trouble with that one." And then he kinda pauses and says, "Hey Sean, don't you know? Donkey Kong doesn't end, it's like Tetris...you're not, like...riding the snake again, are you?" At this point, my memory kinda went a little hazy as blood and bile rose in my throat, my hands itching to break things (preferably necks), and I think I said something about "snakes" pertaining to the area of Warren's ass, but don't quote me on that.

Now I'm going to go buy a gun. Whether to shoot Warren, myself or the NES, I'll get back to you on that.

Meanwhile, back in Reality-land, I think Brent's kinda left. I think he's at Theresa's, but I'm kinda afraid to call him...Alan's got this look in his eyes. A bad scary, not good look. He's giving me suspicious glares whenever I'm in the same room and if I look like I'm about to ask "what happened?" he snarls at me, saying, "If you don't like it, then why don't you move out too?"

Not to sound like a pansy-ass or anything, but I wasn't quite up to telling Alan I technically own the apartment...But you don't understand! He's scary! He's got this look, and this PMSy stance, and I figure if I lay low for a while, it'll all blow over, right?

Sean and Alan last jumped Brent at 09:06 p.m., on Thursday, November 14, 2002.
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Early birds catcht the proverbial invertibrate...

I'm at Theresa's house! We're getting up early to go to the park and jog. Jogging is healthy, refreshing activity that neither Sean nor Alan ever participates in, naturally, because it involves going outside in the daylight. >.> Of course, since I'm still slightly blue, it's best to go while it's still dark, or else I get stared at and make small children cry. I'm bringing Tuffter, on his little leash that Theresa threw together. He can sit on my shoulder, since he's not all that fond of walking.

Last night I brainstormed, and I can now say that I've completely plotted my revenge, and it's perfect. Now all that's left is actually carrying it out. I think I'll wait a few days (to be honest, I've really started to enjoy Theresa's clean living space, fast internet connection and fresh food....are all women this practical and honest?) before I really initiate the prank war which is sure to follow. Alan is just immature like that - he could never admit he's wrong.

X_X If I were wrong, I'd admit it. But borrowing his coat for an evening doesn't justify ruining all of my clothes and screwing up my skin, my hair and my squirrel.

Anyway, I survived high school by being ambiguous about my sexuality. I never really dated anyone, but .... the real secret was in allowing most of the ripped, half-drunk football players to 'experiment' with me at parties. It's not a bad way to go--they can't mock you when they've had their tongue down your throat. Theresa used to bring a camera for blackmail material, and when anyone gave me a hard time (I was beaten up once, but just once) there was an array of flustered jocks to protect me, all of whom desperately didn't want their girlfriends to know about their more curious phases.

I bought two new shirts and a pair of pants, but that's all. I can't afford anything more until I get my next paycheck, which is a long way away. It's hard to manage money. ;_; There's never enough! I have new respect for Sean--he may be a drunkard, but he does keep the bills straight, which says a lot. I also went in for a haircut, and got it trimmed up a little shorter -- I really don't like it, but there's no way I'm just going back to Alan without defending myself. The jerk. I saw Serena, our next door neighbor, at the salon and explained the situation to her. She seemed slightly put out, but helped me pick out a good blue dye, and now I'm someone mollified about my hair, due to its color. Blue. *_*

Maybe tomorrow I'll take care of my plan. No hurry, no hurry...

Sean and Alan last jumped Brent at 07:03 a.m., on Thursday, November 14, 2002.
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Okay! I won't use the IcyHot!

Well, well, well. Are we sorry now that we trashed Alan's trenchcoats? *Are we, Brent???*

Honestly, I'm mad about him stomping on my coats, but until he says he's actucally sorry for taking my coat in the first place (which I bet he is), I'm not giving in. I have *thousands* of old pranks all stored *tap tap* up here. How do you think I made it through high school??? The only reason the jocks didn't kill me for being a gay goth, was because I would prank the Hell out of 'em! *laugh* Ah, good memeories of the IcyHot in the jockstraps.

I'm *willing* to make a compramise. I really am. I can redye your clothes, and I can redye Tuffter, back to their natural color, and I can take down the traps, and forgive you for your horrible blasphimes. I can even fix your hair really nicely, so you don't have to shave it off, and make it a nice blue. Just compramise with me... *heh heh heh*

You know you want to...

Sean and Alan last jumped Brent at 08:03 a.m., on Wednesday, November 13, 2002.
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Bad monkey...no banana

Something very bad is going on outside of Sean-land. I can feel it on the wind. I can hear it through the trees. And to make matters worse, I think an evil 8-bit monkey is stalking me...mustn't open door...even to replenish beer supply...must not turn off NES...must not let hand cramps ruin game...

........................

I fucking hate monkeys.

Sean and Alan last jumped Brent at 08:29 p.m., on Tuesday, November 12, 2002.
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#$%&.

………..Alan, I am SO MAD AT YOU. MADDER than anything in the entire world. I hate you more than all of the things I’ve ever hated before, more than my night at Dark Angst. More than the republicans!

Last night that stupid heartless bastard TURNED ME BLUE. REALLY BLUE. He put something in the head of the shower, and not only did it dye my hair bright bright bright blue, but it colored my skin, too, so I look like some sort of half-smurf leper. Furious, last night I locked him out of the bedroom and ripped all his trench coats down and stomped on them. I woke up this morning, though, with toothpaste in my pillow and all in my hair, my pajamas. All of my clothes (practically my only posessions) are black – he even dyed my precious pet squirrel.

;____; I was so pissed off, I started crying! Stupid bastard! It’s not funny! How will I be able to afford new clothing?! How will I be able to go into work without being a laughingstock? How will I ever get my beloved Tuffter back to his natural hue?! I have to get a haircut to get the toothpaste and gum out of my hair! ;_____________; My hair….

Even worse, when I came back with Theresa to get my clothes, he’d hired half the staff of Dark Angst to lounge around our apartment and leer at me, they swarmed me when I came in the door. Theresa tripped several more traps and was alternately doused in water, pelted with rubber bands and covered in mouse traps. I hope Sean appreciates what Alan just did to his boss and MY BEST FRIEND.

I took two more trench coats with me on my way out. I’m making a comfy nest for Tuffter over at Theresa’s apartment. This is so not over. I’ve got to find some way to get back at him.

Alan, you…! It was just a stupid ugly coat. I borrowed it for an evening! Damn it!!! You fat, girly, penny-pinching piggish miser, you had no right to do all this to me! You jerk! >.< !!!!! @!^%#@^Q#$$#!!!!!

If I were Sean, I’d go get really, really drunk. I’m not Sean, but….it’s starting to look pretty good.

Sean and Alan last jumped Brent at 07:33 p.m., on Tuesday, November 12, 2002.
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Ah, memories of old camp pranks

*heh heh heh*

It's all done. I finally finished it. While Brent and Sean were asleep I put in the last bits of *everything*... They thought I was at DA! *Muwhahahaha!* Brent just left early, so I hooked up the "working" parts of my plan. I think my paln of muttering to Tuffter helped get him out early.

So, let me list exactly what I put up on this glorious day!
-Saran-wrap on the toilet
-replaced all the lightbulbs with black lights
-dyed all of Brent's clothes black, because it *was* my trenchcoat...
-put toothpaste on the inside of his pillow
-filled empty toopaste tube with shaving cream
-replaced all the food in the fridge with beer and ramen... Two of Brent's least favorite foods...
-replaced all his CD's with the goth band "mY moTher wAs A crosSdresser", the band I think he hates the most out of all I listen to
-took out the two video we had, and replaced it with the "New and Improved Edition number 24" of Titanic
-Dyed Tuffter black while I was at it.
-Invited all the strippers from "Black Rose Erotic Dancers" and "BlacK VelveT" (Remember them? Oh Brent will), to stay at our house this evening.
-Goat in the living room.

I think that's everything... 0_o;;;; I hope I didn't forget anything....

Sean and Alan last jumped Brent at 08:02 a.m., on Tuesday, November 12, 2002.
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What did I miss?

So apparently Alan is planning revenge on Brent? Oooh, scary. I know that sounds harsh, but let's face it. Whenever we get into these little spats, it always always always ends in kinky sex, and if you don't believe me, go ahead; just wait. You'll see. Yeah, gets kinda dull after a while, life being so predictable.

Alan came in a while ago warning me not to leave the game room/studio for the next 24 hours and packed the mini fridge full of beer and microwave burritos saying something about revenge and bondage and teenage pranks. You know, typical Alan stuff. But the point was rather moot as I've been in here for the past....er....while.

One of my LAN buddies is having "relationship problems" with his girlfriend and gave me his prized antique game-platform to babysit. It's something called a "Nintendo," and believe me, this is as 01<| s|<001 as it gets. Needless to say, I've been perusing the games and am playing this one called "Donkey Kong." You're this dude trying to rescue this princess and this monkey (well, it's an 8-bit mass of red pixels so I assume it's a monkey) throws these barrels at you. But whats crazy is that every time you get to the top, and release the princess, it turns out it's not the real one!!!! I mean, every time I think "this is it, those screams of terror must belong to the real princess," but it turns out it's not! Crazy shit, I tell you. And I'm so close to beating it. The only reason I'm here and not playing is because my thumbs have gone numb. And because my eyes are watering and I can no longer feel my legs. But I'm this close, I swear.

Actually, come to think of it, I'm getting this feeling that the only reason I haven't gone insane is that those large quantities of beer Alan gave me distorts all concept of time...

But c'mon! This is a kid's game! There's got to be an end to the madness. What programmers are sick enough to make a game that doesn't give a person the satisfaction of saying "Damn, I 0WnZ j00"? And as soon as I beat this game, I'm gonna try that "Mario" one. Surely that won't be too long...

Maybe I should quit playing this game...maybe I should go socialize with...Brent...who is completely blue and screaming obscenities at Alan, whose using what's left of our pudding to make a beer custard...

Riiiight....

8-bit monkey-type-thing! Yer ass is mine!

Sean and Alan last jumped Brent at 11:09 p.m., on Monday, November 11, 2002.
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Mutterings

I was starting to think Alan had forgotton about the trenchcoat. Or that he was being forgiving, maybe, out of his overwhelming love for me, you know, something like that.

Then I heard him gloating to Tuffter about my 'false sense of security'. And he was calling me Tuffter's 'master'.

Kyaaaaa. I know it's really bad when he starts addressing my pet personally. Help! I'm going to work early tomorrow, with or without Sean. ;_;

Sean and Alan last jumped Brent at 09:59 p.m., on Monday, November 11, 2002.
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;____;

..............

;___________________________;

Alaaaaaaaaaaaan. Why are you l-looking at me l-like that!? ALAN?! SEAN!!! H-HEEEEEELP!!

Sean and Alan last jumped Brent at 10:48 p.m., on Sunday, November 10, 2002.
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Revenge tastes sweetest with leather

Oh no my dear, dear Brent....

I have something much better planned...

Sean and Alan last jumped Brent at 10:02 p.m., on Sunday, November 10, 2002.
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The ebony letter?

I’m an awful person, really, I am. I have no spine. I look temptation in the eye and then succumb wantonly to its treacherous grasp.

Maybe I shouldn’t have given way, but…..damn it! Alan was curled up sleeping like a baby, and his trench coats were just hanging there, suspended…. so mysterious! so dangerous! so sexy! so….leather…….

I borrowed one. Just one, and I definitely borrowed it. I just forgot to ask. Borrowed, and hemmed it, a little, at the bottom so it wouldn’t get all scuffed up. Looking way, way badass in black leather, sunglasses and clunky boots, I swept Theresa off her feet (with a running tackle) and paid for our lunch at a nice café near the mall. It was a really good sandwich.

I think Alan’s on a warpath! Ack! I’m going to die! I bet he blazons a giant T across my chest, for Theif...or Trench-coat-stealer... Tool..... Toy..... Trickster.... Torture....

I'm gonna die! I'm gonna die! He'sgonnahurtmeabunchandthenI'mgonnadie!!!!

Sean and Alan last jumped Brent at 09:34 p.m., on Saturday, November 9, 2002.
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The Scarlet Letter

I had a dream last night. I was standing upon a scaffold, looking up into the sky, and a bright comet was flying downward towards the ground in all it's glory. It was a scarlet red, and it was in the great letter of a T. Maybe it was just a horrible flashback to my high school career, but I don't know. Maybe it was the Gods sending me a signal.

I woke up with a start and immeditly knew it was the latter. The very energy in the room was vibrating with a power of a disturbance. A disturbance so strong and powerful that it could shatter the very foundations of my world. I studied the room, and even in the darkness, I felt as if the auras and energy in the room was tapping me in the direction of... The closet...

So I wandered sleeply, but cautiously over to the closet, and quickly ripped open the doors, fearing what would lie behind.

And I knew. I didn't even have to look. It was already in my heart, for the taking. Gods, oh, Gods, I knew.

Brent!!! Where the Hells is my trenchcoat number 9, Charcoal Dust Upon Ebony???? And what the Hells did you do to it?!?!?!?!?!

Sean and Alan last jumped Brent at 12:00 p.m., on Saturday, November 9, 2002.
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Video killed the radio star...

You know, Sean, people would probably think you more manly if you didn't mother me all the time in public. I mean, I'm older than you and you STILL move my cup away from the edge of the table and remind me to put my napkin in my lap. I've been out to dinner before, you know! Almost fifteen times! You're like an old, girly, trench coat wearing grandmother. Stay away from the hairnets, man.

As for trench coats, though, I'm starting to want one. I mean, they're just so... mysterious. o_o;;; Alan's quite a bit taller than me, so if I stole one out of his closet I'd have to stitch up the bottom or something. I have a feeling he'd be able to sense a needle near his clothing from five miles, blindfolded.

Theresa's having me do a few short stories to go along with some illustrations by one of their comic artists. I'm not the only one hoping for that spot, but ... hey, I have contacts! Namely, her. ^^;;; We'll see, it would be nice to get some extra cash, to pay Sean back for the rent. He's been covering Alan and I forever, and while I've been paying him royally in certain ways, a little money couldn't hurt. Look! Look! I'm trying to be responsible!

Anyway, I'm exhausted. The consequences of living in an apartment full of seksi men in black leather coats are catching up to me. I'm also considering dying my hair! Blue sounds good, right about now... I wonder if that's against company policy?

Sean and Alan last jumped Brent at 10:52 p.m., on Thursday, November 7, 2002.
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Do I give off chick-vibes, or something?

Ah, dinner went well. Brent, to celebrate his first paycheck, took us out for sushi. It was a nice little place, kinda isolated, right off of the freeway. The sushi was excellent...rice just a little warmer than the fish...both tender...fresh ginger...*drools* And, to make a great situation even more wonderful, the waiter we had mistook me for a girl, so we got sake on the house. w00t!

Hey, don't look at me, I don't get it. You'd think effeminate little Alan would be mistaken for a girl more than me, but then again, his clothes make sure no one is gonna get his gender wrong. Must be my long hair.

But anyway, free sake is not something I plan on turning down any time soon. And I got to flirt with the waiter. Heh, Alan looked miffed (because I was ignoring him, or because the waiter thought me more attractive, I don't know), and Brent was just plain confused. It was amusing to say the least. But I'm not entirely sure what I should do with the phone number he gave me...I could always pretend "Sarah" has a twin brother named Sean...

Oh the hardships of my life [insert gothic poetry here]. Damn, I think this trench coat is going to my brain. Ah well, small price to pay for The Look of Supreme Coolness (tm). I think Alan's getting pissed. Maybe to appease him, I'll burn a copy of the latest album by "Souless Mortification" called "Tenebrae Skyclad", I think. Jesus, who listens to that crap anyway?

Sean and Alan last jumped Brent at 08:47 p.m., on Thursday, November 7, 2002.
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No, dude. Don't joke like that.

Uh-uh. No. It's not happening! Give me that thing back. That's *my* trenchcoat! Remember? I lent it to you out of kindness so you could feel all happy and mysterious when you were stalking Brent! I was trying to help you! That one was a nice one, too! *Sigh* Underside of Raven wing. I especially liked the little pocket on the inside of the jacket, where you can hide stuff if you want to... Not many of my jackets have that...

Oh! But what I was saying! Mine! Hey! I bet it's you that's been touching my box! Wait... I mean...

And about the rent!? Well. I would assume that the money I stole from the homeless man a month ago would count, and... Well... Wait? Do you mean it? You really want me to pay?

Sean and Alan last jumped Brent at 07:48 a.m., on Thursday, November 7, 2002.
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A day in the life...blah

I went out with Theresa and Brent to the arcades...random. I mean...Theresa having fun...scary o.@. I kicked off the evening with a session of Crazy Taxi, and then spread the //0rd to Theresa and Brent at Cruisin' Galaxy. Have I mentioned that game's the shit? Anyway, Theresa is way to jerky to be good at racing games, but man can she dish it out at FPSs! Next time we get smashed together, I ought to get her to play "Suburbs of the Dead 2" with me. (That zombie soccer mom in the Twisted Metal-esque SUV is a bitch to fight alone).

So yeah. It was fun. Theresa's agreed to let me focus on some of my "hobby" works as she calls them (they're my big break, I tell you!), and we seem to have an almost amicable relationship at work (knock on wood -_-). And things with Brent at work are working out. He's agreed not to swap stories about me with the other employees, which is a definite plus. We are not going to discuss the noodle incident!

Yep. Everything's back to normal. Brent's ultra-chipper, Tuffter's ultra-dead, Alan's ultra-whiney. Dude, you owe me, like, two years worth of rent! I'm keeping the bloody trench coat! Hee...leathery-gothic soft! ^^

Sean and Alan last jumped Brent at 05:10 p.m., on Wednesday, November 6, 2002.
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Back to normal... I think...

*Yaaaawn* Ah. I feel so much better today. I was sick yesterday (>.<), which was no fun at all, but I got over it. Sean and Brent were both at work at that "comic place" (Funny thing is, I actucally have no idea what the hell they do over there...), and Brent even got paid. I wonder if the Brent curse is over...

But anyway, in my dreams the past couple of nights, I kept replaying the dancing at the party that Theresa had... *heh heh heh* I'm glad that the whole, "Brent is gone, let's stalk him", thing is over. Because now I get to "teach" Brent those knew dance moves I've been planning. *heh heh heh* Sean says he wants to watch the "dance lessons".

*A-hem* I mean. Well. So it's been a good couple of days (except for my sleeping patterns are out of sync with my normal life) (*I mean, what the hell? Being awake during daylight???*)(Plus when I slept, Tuffter kept sitting there and watching me... Was I dreaming or...)

But two things have been bothering me. One, my box-in-the-back-of-the-closet-has-been-moved-and-random-pink-things-are-showing-up-in-the-laundry... Who the hell touched my box???

That and... Sean!!!! Can I have my trenchcoat back yet? *Whine*

Sean and Alan last jumped Brent at 08:08 a.m., on Wednesday, November 6, 2002.
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Cashola!

I got my first paycheck today! Paycheck! Mine! Me! My first! My only! I'm taking everyone out for sushi tomorrow! ^___^ I'm feeling really good. Theresa and I went out to lunch, and I dragged Sean along for kicks. We had ice cream afterwards, and hit the arcade. My fine employer is awful at racing games, but fortunately, I am too. XD Sean schooled us both. ^^;;;;; He's a maniac on wheels! So what should I spend the portion of my paycheck that isn't going towards rent and groceries on? I was thinking about indulging in some really effing old antique video game systems. Like, maybe the Playstation 4? It's backwards compatible, at least, so I'd get to play all the PSX-4 games. Hmmmmmm...... Maybe that's a good Christmas present for Sean. Now that I have money, I can actually give them something, other than - well. But, it's a beautiful day, Tuffter is sunning himself (maybe I should give him a bath!) on the ledge outside, and life is good. ^_^;;; Very good.

Sean and Alan last jumped Brent at 10:45 p.m., on Tuesday, November 5, 2002.
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