jemmy_rockets

Jemmy was pissed, which wasn't really unusual but DAMNED if it wasn't extra irritated tonight. Fortunately they were almost across the vast embty nothingness of Texas and about to get Bug, but that didn't help her amazingly wasted dreamtime off in the glade while Marrow drove the 'stang onward toward Chowchilla.

Everytime she visited this place...someone else was crying about the Sidhe. These people should just start a fricking self-help group so they could all be oppressed together. Man, six months ago, Jemmy hadn't even known what a Sidhe was. And now, six months later...it STILL didn't matter, yet all anyone could do was sob about how they were under the bootheel of the MAN.

She thought they must be fucking crazy. Why would you bother to hate someone based on Kith, when really if you just talk to people, you'll see that they're ALL assholes if you give them two minutes! It was like the world WANTED to be repressed by the keeblers especially, which really just made NO sense.

Why would anyone go out of their way to be "kept down"? It wasn't like the Sidhe, or anyone else for that matter, were sitting on people's couches prodding them with a tazer if they chose the wrong TV station. It wasn't like they were chained together digging ditches under gunpoint.

Killian just couldn't get over the fact that they all wanted respect...well, so? And Jemmy wanted a million dollars, so? Just cause some cucksucker tells you to respect them doesn't mean you have to. You CAN walk off. You CAN ignore him. You CAN find a way to get around it - unless you're brainless, she supposed.

Pathetic. People were just pathetic and she despised the vast majority of them. A person has got to be seriously spineless if they feel 'threatened' or 'subjugated' because another person SAID something to them and that was just phenominally...profoundly commiserable.

The only think Jemmy had seen from others, including the Sidhe...was that if you wanted people to leave you alone all you had to do was tell a five year old what a prick was for and they would get SO offended, they'd leave you alone forever.

She guessed if people wanted to feel kept down then that was their own thing, she just wished they'd shut the fuck up about it.

Well, it's fucking official. I hate redcaps. There are like TWO in the whole fucking planet that are even worth a word.

It's been a pretty lonely bunch of days what with Julie off learning shit from Deadbeat. His place hates me, there isn't anywhere to go up in the hizzouse of this iceberg. I've just been chilling in my stonecold cell here, on this moth-worn mat. I tried talking to some people in the glade some, and it was almost useful one night. The Globetrotter had something interesting to say and so did some Elfin boy named...Daffyd. He told me about some caps in a place called Rolling Hills. Doyle and Hooligan, but I since found out that Doyle is dead.

So there I was when that fucking box that Julie uses to send love-notes to her boyfriend sprang to life with some redcap blathering about how Josh Morgan was dead or something. Guess I won't be talking to him anytime soon then either.

In order to pass some time, I managed to figure out how to use it to send a message back to other Redcaps. I THOUGHT...for just a second... that MAYBE I could find someone to teach me the ropes maybe just a LITTLE.

WHOA was *I* wrong. No. Instead I get this brilliantly stupid cunny named Myrilla the Bloody screaming down my throat about how she thinks I am the 'bitch who put her man (Marrow)' in a bad mood or some shit. Holy jesus rocking the fish boat - I had to tell her to cram her hole shut.

Which all only goes to prove how fucking retarded ALL my kith are, worthless shits. I hate them.

So we, that's Julie and I, been here in New York New York for a few days now. Got some offer from this chick Nava to stay with her. Might not be so bad for a couple nights, but goddamn I think she hit on me - like I don't get enough meaningly sex walkin' the streets.

We went and got some tattoos. I had this design scribbling around in my noodle and guess I just had to get it out. I dunno, it seems meaningful but I'm not sure why. It looks something like this...



I'm really fucking irritated though. Mostly I was hoping to meet some other Redcaps up here but nnoOOOooo. I can't seem to find any of them that are worth a damn anywhere. I met that ancient fuck, Archy, and he's ok but I'd kinda like to see what the others are like.

It's pretty disgusting being around other fae, I've discovered. Manners. Propriety. Let's all pretend to be nice and not say the things we think because somehow, that is LESS offensive than lying to everyone you meet by pretending you like them.

Don't these people have anything BETTER to do in their uptown, white-collar lives than to worry about what those of us they consider the trash and scum of society are saying? I mean really, if you can't even come down from that lofty cloud nine long enough to root around in the gutter-muck with us unworthies...then what the FUCK do you care if we curse, swear, sell our bodies on the street or skateboard on the sidewalk?

You know what I hope? I hope that some Michael Jackson comes along and molests your children. Maybe THEN you'll have an idea of what you should really be concerned about, cause I can guarantee you that it isn't the fact that I say fuck far to frequently, or that me and my sister discuss human procreation, recreation, spermicidal dissemination processes out loud in the public arena.

I am a bad, rude crude social misfit because I don't talk the talk - maybe these cocksuckers should be happy that I'm talking SOMETHING rather than keeping it shut and burning their houses down. Somewhere, there is some guy puting his LIFE on the line so that these ungrateful twats can sit safe at home and complain about brunch-time manners and which fucking fork to use first.

God. Do something *worthwhile* instead of seeing how many fakey fake mannerisms you can concoct for yourselves to wave around in one anothers faces.

Seriously, I wish me and Julie were never stuck in this fucking shithole society. I'm not even sure what the point of this craptastic existence is supposed to be. This right-wing Troll tried to tell Siphon tonight all about some Code of Dagda or some shit. All about how you should do this and not do that. Don't abuse your powers, be polite...yeah well, who says what's polite? I'm pretty fucking certain that if I shit on your floor, you'll consider a belch polite by comparison.

The world sickens me. I hope this Deadbolt asshole has something good to offer Jules cause man...there has to be something better than this for her, even if she does gripe all the time.

We hit it out of Nashville going east bout a day ago. These states out here could all be crammed right into the stank and armpit that is called Texas.

We ought be out at Timberlake's tomorrow round noon. I never saw so many goddamned highways, biways and burger king myways as I have out his here direction. Fer hell, like it aint pack-crammed in enough.

Yeah so all this shits been rattling round my head like a can of spray-paint just waiting to be let out. All about these fucking polite and socially acceptable motherfuckers...not anyone in particular, just the Tipper Gore sensatives who think they are society's Robo-cops for the FCC.

( And then I went off on a rant )

And tagged some bathroom in this cholesteral saturated pancake joint - just think, I gave some poor bastard the opportunity to strip those tiles of their new-found character with nail-polish remover and make them 'refreshingly clean'.

I've decided to call them sonnets as props to Sonny Barger, since I usually write them on the road.

Testing...you jackass.