Just keep telling yourself that, Rhiannon. Just keep telling yourself that.

[dragonflymatthew]

So we're down in Jess's basement. She's one of those chicks with sofas down there, 70's Show styles, one's ugly yellow and one's ugly white. And we hang down with the sofas and jam.

Qe've just played our own take on King Nothing, then jess takes a breath and tells us "guys we're really good". And we look at her, and Zack asks what does she want. I play a drum roll with a cymbol crash at the end, and jess says "guys, I think we sould play out.. you know, with an audience."

we stand there with our mouths open like she just took off her top. i mean, it seems stupid, but we just played, we jammed and screwed round. we weren't a group, we were mates with a guitar and a drum-kit.

"no", I say. She looks at me sideways, smiles a little, and the fight moves on to zack.
"no", says Zack.
"Don't flirt with him!" i say a bit too loudly. But Jess laughs and she says "Listen, guys. I won't make you put on a concert or anything. Let's just enter a competition, see how we do."

Like I said, I'm out of the battle, so when Zack nods slowly it's decided right there. We play a bit more, than Zack goes and Jess and me fool around a bit.

she's thinking about something else though. i ask her, and she kisses me to shut me up, which is cool. but the third time she sorta figures it's not working, so she tells me "I went to church today."
Says it like it doesn't matter so I still dont' see what's wrong. After a bit she says "How do you know it isn't true?"

"What?" I ask.
"I think you should come along next week."
"And why do you think that, Jess?"
Jess shakes her head.
"Changes your view... you know, different ideas."
"It was better when you just kissed me."

<font color="#f7f7f7" size="1">[ July 05, 2003 12:28 AM: Message edited by: Daniel Pearl ]</font>

[Chris Wesley]

Martin Scripts has a new Identity! Like, an alter alter ego.

[captainankh]

Do we remember why this got stuffed up last time,? Nobody could read Martin's posts.

Keep it simple people. Write something that people can actually reply to. Don't write a quick account of some crap, write an ongoing thing. It's much easier. And only have one identity.

[dragonflymatthew]

Germany versus South Korea.

Half time.

No points scored.

The game is solid, pretty ok, I think. Good defence, some offence, Germans starting to push but they haven't got close to the goal yet. It's like we're seeing who gets tired first. Klose does a nasty trick to try and get a penalty, and the ref sees right through him.

I'm watching with my parents, my friends don't give a stuff. Dad's got his German mates 'round, but there's this one Korean guy Dad knew and he made him come. It's real funny, anyway, everyone's so hyped.

"Korea's slow today" says someone I forget.

And then something changes, like I missed something serious. Just 1 or 2 guys show it, but you sorta feel it from the group. It's just a second, everything's back to normal, I duno but it's hard to remember afterwards because you start to think things and then you get what you thought up crossed with what happened. If you think too much you're stuffed, can't tell what's real any more.

I'm sitting there thinking and the grown-ups are all back to normal and then Dad tells me to go get some stuff from the shop.

He's got a list. It's stuff for a cake. Cream cheese and milk and butter.

"I'll miss the game!" I don't mean it but I say it, I know he'll make me. He says something like we need the stuff ready to make it tonight, and if I go quick I'll be back for the end, and half-time takes ages. he's taping it anyway so I go down to the shops, it's wet but not raining, I start thinking about Misaliance and Jess and the band competitions...

[sheizus]

Gerald didn't care either way about the game. He had heard the expected outcome of the game, but like all things, it all went to pieces when the play began.
Well, Gerald didn't want to care about the game, at least. He didn't even know the rules of the game, he reasoned.
The television was on at his place anyways, the game going, but the sound was turned right the way down, and no one was in the room. His parents were busying themselves around the house, and Gerald was lying on his bed, lights on, letting the loud music have a go at him.

[Chris Wesley]

Chris was standing around, not knowing what the hell to do. He noticed a game of something happening somewhere, then realised that nothing interesting was happening. He danced around crazily, trying to attract attention. Hell, something had to happen here.

Once he stopped dancing, he looked around at the crowd which had gathered. He bowed, and held a hat out for donations.

[sheizus]

Quite content in his nothing-doing, Gerald kept at it. He knew, eventually, he would achieve perfection. No one he knew could match his ability to do nothing. Suddenly he realised something. He was not only lying still, he was also procrastinating. That made it multitasking, and that was simply unacceptable. The aim was to do nothing, and here he was going against everything he believed in.

Slient, on his bed, Gerald fretted. It was then that his everpresent phone decided to vibrate.

[captainankh]

Intestingly, Frost's phone rang too. (I can't afford a vibrate).
Which was very interesting since he didn't own a phone. It was a bit like the Matrix. (enter clarke anderson)
He answered it nervously...

[sheizus]

The phone in his hand, Gerald decided to think for a second. It would take longer to stop ringing if he didn't answer it. But then he would have to talk. And he didn't want to talk any more than he had to.
But they would ring back if he didn't pick up.

He pressed the little button.

"Hello, you have reached the answering machine of Gerald Blake. He is..."

[dragonflymatthew]

So there we are, me and this chick, and like, she's eating a burger, and I'm eating a Big Mac. It's dark, the sun's set, normal people are driving home from their nine-fives to their little houses with Sky TV and crap, and I'm here on the side of the road outside McDonalds. Me and this chick.

I say, "Hi."
"Hi."
And she's nibbling at that burger, yeah, real facinated by it now. I mean, that burger might've been singing a song the way she started looking at it.

"What're you up to?"
She actually stops and looks at the other side of the road, thinking of an answer for that one. She's got pretty hair, blond sorta, darker though. Not light enough to really see her face, when she keeps looking sideways and away, but she seems cool.

"I'm fighting demons on the astral plains."
"What the hell?"
She smiled. I don't know, she had me baited, thinks she's clever, just likes screwing with people or something?

"There are demons on the astral plains, and I fight them. You can't see them, but they're all around us. I fight them all the time."

"uh, right. How do you fight these demons?" I ask. At least she's talking, and the girl's starting to warm up to the game.

"Some people run away, or call 'Jesus!' or 'God!' or anything like that, they can't stand it. Demons can't. You call God, mostly."

"I never believed in that stuff."

"What stuff? Demons, or God?"

"Well, both, really."

A car pulls up, down the road a bit. It's dark blue, smallish, Nissan maybe.
"That's my mom," says the girl, "thanks for chatting."
I shrug. "Bye. Hey, what's your name?"
The girl thinks for a moment.
"Kate." she says, and leaves.


I think she made it up.

==========================================

It it possible?
...to fall in love all over again, each time she speaks?
Giving only more meaning to those lonely seconds, days, weeks?

<font color="#f7f7f7" size="1">[ July 05, 2003 12:25 AM: Message edited by: Daniel Pearl ]</font>