#some are money! or u can play one of their games thru like. an ancient version of WaterFox (firefox sister) & an old version of adobe flash
hey......what if. instead of tumblr making their own gaiaonline avi things......what if we just went to gaia online.......
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emerges frm a field of corn slinking in w a faux mink shrug dangling around my elbows n a strand of wheat between my teeth..... farmer eleganza.... hlo! my name’s nai. i am bt a humble ghoul arrived to haunt ur home. 23 n she/her pronouns n i live in manchester. fun fact my friend’s neighbour used to b harry styles PE teacher. i played delilah yrs ago as carlson young (n even cara delevingne at one point what the fk) which feels so weird n ancient to me nw bt i missed her a lot so decided to spruce her bk to life.... ANYWAY delilah’s pinterest is here n i’ll jst leap right into things without further ado
(NICOLA PELTZ, CIS-FEMALE) - Have you seen DELILAH ASTOR? LILAH is in HER JUNIOR year. The POLITICAL SCIENCE MAJOR is 21 years old & is a CAPRICORN. People say SHE is BEGUILING, BLUNT, CUNNING and APATHETIC. Rumors say they’re a member of CALLOWAY. I heard from the gossip blog that SHE WAS IN A REHABILITATION CENTRE IN SWITZERLAND INSTEAD OF DOING CHARITY WORK LIKE HER SOCIAL MEDIA CLAIMED. (NAI. 23. GMT. SHE/HER.)
HISTORY
their family is kind of modelled off the sedgwick family like old money n pretty dysfunctional bt all abt keeping up a seamless facade of perfection... with a pinch of the kennedy’s in there. her dad’s high up in politics n his dad before tht ws in politics n it’s just a long prestigious line of clones in expensive suits as far as delilah’s concerned. her dad i picture as like.... nate archibald’s grandfather in gossip girl.... personality wise.
for as long as she cn remember she’s found this cookie cutter white picket fence life boring. stifling. to delilah it’s like being hemmed in a stuffy room n forbidden frm opening a window. it’s all vry Rich People Problems i wnt lie bt <3 she feels everlastingly bored. All The Time. plus her family hs always been a focal point fr tabloids etc which doesn’t help this feeling of not rly Living but just being the focus of a spectator sport. they’re lowkey a bit of a household name so they get a bunch of scrutiny n......... well. new bullet point alert! cue a powerpoint transition
(self harm & depression tw) frm being young delilah always knew there ws sort of. a white noise inside her where everyone else saw a technicolour movie screen. it rly hit her at like 12 i’d say as she was jst coasting towards adolescence. it ws pretty obvious frm her behaviour i’d say bt her parents only became Aware it ws a problem when she stuck a fork into a socket n short circuited the power in the house. she got shocked unconscious n when she woke up she told the in house dr they’d called (to keep it under wraps frm outsiders) tht she just.... couldn’t feel anything. she’d been reading frankenstein (she’s always liked gothic literature) n thought it’d zap her to life like the monster
her parents got her on medication n figured that wld fix everything. they didn’t like to talk abt things and that was that. it wasn’t to be mentioned again
delilah’s parents r just very.... sterile. family is abt appearances. they’ll be all smiles n flowing conversation when ppl are around bt it feels like being an actress n reading frm a script. being a toy in a dollhouse
she had two siblings: an older sister named clara & a younger brother named elijah. clara ws always like.... the Dream daughter. did everything right. amazing grades. america’s sweetheart. LOVED by the press. did sm charity work. elijah was fine/kind of a slacker compared bt coasted by on athletic prowess (captain of the rowing team). delilah hs very much always been the anomaly in this idyllic line-up. middle child effect! altho having said tht she’s always ran w the popular crowd of her age group bc Rich + Pretty = Status. it’s all quite superficial n delilah’s attitude on the matter can b summed up w this photoset. having said tht there was Some merit in constantly being paraded around as “such a pretty thing” bc a few modelling agencies attempted to scout her bt delilah found that boring. she wants to b called brilliant not beautiful. her mother called this her “not playing to the advantages that god gave her”. with a tight-lipped smile and a “god forbid i use my brain”, delilah only disappointed her further <3
(drugs & ed tw) delilah gt pretty heavy into partying fr the sake of trying to Feel something. intense on the drugs front (coke n prescription pills). rarely eating. she got a silver broach of a swan tht she pins to most of her clothes n u can unscrew the swan’s neck n pull it out to reveal a little powder spoon. still wears this today. clara n delilah were always super close n clara wld cover fr her a bunch. making up lies n jst having her back to their parents if they ever asked where she was / she ws in trouble n needed to keep it under wraps. when delilah hd an article in a tabloid pretty mch like this one clara talked their parents dwn frm sending her to a rehabilitation centre in switzerland. they gt it pretty much scorched frm existence bt delilah kept a clipping bc honestly she thought it was funny hw pale her mother went abt it
(car accident & drunk driving & death tw) at a fancy benefit the astors were all attending among 4857925974 uppity families delilah wound up heading off w some of the rich kids n one thing lead to another n a couple of them gt arrested fr a coke scandal. delilah used her phone call to contact clara n fr once clara hd let loose a little n hd something to drink bt still drove to the station to bail delilah out n try n fix her mess bt.... skipped a red light n crashed. she died upon impact.
(hospitalisation & drugs & addiction tw) this made delilah spiral massively obviously.... she clung on by the skin of her teeth fr a while bt she rly was just getting quite out of control doing an extremely excessive amt of coke to get by at this point so her parents actually did.... end up shipping her off to switzerland for rehabilitation. they didn’t tell anyone this tho n as far as ppl were/are aware she was doing charity work with habitat for humanity in trinidad. her parents literally........... hired ppl to take photos of things there n a social media team posted them to her instagram account jst. the most elaborate lie.... it’s a lot.
delilah jst pretty much went along w whatever they said at the facility bt didn’t absorb any of it too much.... she did get sober there bt it was vry much bc she had no other choice rather than a want to......... she even pretended to “find god” while she ws there n memorised bible lines to recite w a coolly detached smile. in her head she ws probably thinking abt hw her mandated therapist cld gladly eat shit and she’d be happy to watch. it was just like.... everyone there was RLY hideously overpaid bt did they actually Care abt their work or patients? debatable. wasn’t the most healing experience thru delilah’s eyes bt... maybe it’d work better if she’d actually opened her mind to it bt anyway...... <3 cornelius fudge voice: she’s back. the dark lord.....
PERSONALITY:
nw tht her history is out of the way i’ll leap like a flea off a shaggy dog’s back into personality! aesthetically she almost ALWAYS wears white/cream. reminds me of the woman in white frm sharp objects. rarely she’ll dabble in silver or gold or like..... vry pale green bt.... always muted tones. usually white or cream. big white sunhats. white sunglasses. white pussybow blouses w a little white skirt n a pearl barrette in her hair. she even smokes white sobranie cigs tht r imports like it’s a lot she’s truly committed to the aesthetic.... paired w like. classic patent mary janes.... she tends to flutter around the place like a silk moth. likes lace too. hs a very put together image n even demeanour like she’s very lithe n graceful n drifts like a ghost which kind of contrasts w... who she is at her core bt in the astor family it’s all abt appearances <3 the only deviation from this is she sometimes wears dark blue mascara once in a blue moon n if ppl comment on this she’s like. idk what ur talking abt? glides away like a ghost in a haunted mansion n is never seen again.
very perceptive. incredibly observant. yrs of early life media training n being born frm politicians means she’s an excellent liar. she knows ppl n knows what makes them tick bt she’ll only use this when necessary. she isn’t a terrible person bt she knows how to b Very mean n will equip this as a weapon shd a situation call fr it. also more prone to lashing out since her sister......... she hs sometimes played chess games socially fr kicks
dark n biting sense of humour. rather frank abt things. VERY ruthless when scorned bt she isn’t particularly?? emotive abt it??? her bf cheated on her once n when he told her she slapped him rly hard in front of sm ppl he knew n then jst walked away. blocked him on literally everything. removed him frm the face of the earth as far as she ws concerned. had him blacklisted frm every event n told ppl they’d be cut too if they continued to associate w him. goodbye sir <3 u are the weakest link <3 needless to say he regretted it <3
very loyal to u until she isn’t. finds it very easy to cut ties if need be. once her trust is broken it is gooooone baby goone.... the trust is Gone. selective in who she cares abt
vry cavalier abt sex. she doesn’t sleep around hugely i dnt think??? bt when she does it isn’t often tht emotionally invested she’ll jst out of the blue very nonchalantly blow out a wisp of smoke n b like. so u want to fuck me then? cool. proceeds to get up as if she’s walking to leave n then looks bk n is like what do ur legs not work? follow me. n leads them somewhere
nothing rly.... moves her particularly. she isn’t very animated. it’s like she jst finds the entire world thoroughly unimpressive. it’s difficult to stimulate excitement from her. it’s like that hugh laurie quote where he realised he had depression bc “boredom is not an appropriate response to exploding cars”.
has a pet swan bk at home she’s named lilith inspired by satan’s offspring. lilith bites ppl if they get close n is honestly an abomination of a bird. delilah finds her funny n throws her bits of croissants sometimes bt even she isn’t immune to her pecks. in some ways they’re similar...... hv a graceful surface appearance / aesthetic bt a darker attitude beneath the surface
WANTED CONNECTIONS:
exes: the ex bf tht cheated on her n she got blacklisted from 94872347 social events cld be a fun thing to explore..... delilah wld be EXTREMELY cold towards him n honestly want him dead. wouldn’t show any shred of caring abt him at all she’s very gd at stoning her emotions n keeping them inside. hasn’t cried since her sister died as an example of how..... withdrawn she is from confessing her innermost thoughts n desires. maybe an ex bf before tht that she rly didn’t take seriously at all..... typically she just isn’t interested/invested in romance she’s vry apathetic abt it all
party friends: those tht run in similar rich kid circles tht she would have smuggled off with at fancy events so they could let loose.......... ppl tht r completely her opposite who she finds interesting bc they represent everything she always wanted outside the oppression of her strict regiment family....... mutual bad influences tht are heavy into drugs n always enable each other...... u name it!
hook-ups: she doesn’t have a HUGE amt of these bt.... maybe a select handful.... some she wld have hooked up w once n never again n just been like >_> if they implied they shd as if it was preposterous n she was thoroughly over it.... some maybe she’d find interesting enough to extend beyond tht...... none she’d invest in if she cld help it altho? maybe someone as an exception to tht rule cld be fun
friends of her sister: (death tw) clara was universally well liked for being rly sweet n well intentioned n she attended yates only two yrs delilah’s senior so she might have some connections here still somehow??? cld be angsty to work with
i won’t lie i’m rly hungry as i write up these wcs so my brain’s going blank n i’m gna have to sprint to get some toast bt <3 roommates, enemies, competitive friendships, resentments, angst, chaos, drama, strife, u name it n i am dwn!!!! hits post n takes off galloping dwnstairs
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the king arthur movie is SO BAD, guys.
imagine a baby and a kitten got together and tried to edit a movie with only the vaguest idea of arthurian legend based on the backs of the VHS of the disney version and also the lion king for some reason, and also the barest idea of how human brains can accept and understand editing and narrative. imagine a pretty good video game opening for 2001, but watched thru the haze of a really strenuous flu and it’s rented and ancient and was chewed up by at least two dogs so it’s glitching a lot. imagine a knight’s tale……………Reimagined™ (needlessly) by a team of randos who only speak italian and their ideas are being translated by jen from the IT crowd in that one episode where she pretends she can speak italian. imagine a movie with a budget of four dollars (except the budget was HUGE). imagine an opium dream within a dream of robert downey jr’s 2009 sherlock holmes where jude law becomes a boring, leathery king who has a bad habit of constantly sacrificing the silent women he supposedly loves to an undulating pile of lovecraftian horror water ladies that live in his shame toilet in his penis tower basement ONLY to super saiyan into a really bad DnD dude with a motorcycle-insignia-metal skull head and the torso of two The Rocks smashed together (sorry, The Rock) instead of (a much better) watson. imagine eragon, but somehow exceedingly, fremdschamenly, schadenfreudingly worse. not many things get both german expressions, in a gleefully terrible adverb form at that, but this movie——oh, THIS movie——-deserves them.
the letters of the opening credits roll (or creep?) across the screen. the kerning is bad. all the T’s have a phallic, buffylike, sword motif going on and it renders the names unreadable. the colors and the blurry shots look like something out of monty python. again, who hired this editor? who watched this movie, kissed their fingertips like an italian grandma, and gently set this eldritch horror adrift on the tides of eternity to be received with fear and loathing by millions of human eyes? the elephants from lord of the rings attack the bridge from legend of zelda, and that red flamey eye guy from eragon (mordred, for some reason, in a shake n bake wig) ?? or possibly from inkheart?? is defeated. remember, we know nothing about these characters. feel nothing for them. and the trend continues. katie mcgrath appears, of course, in her standard and splendid emerald green, and then immediately dies. none of the shots in the first 20 minutes of the movie match up, we go from scenes with several people to ultra close ups of faces—-it’s like the “mmmm whatcha say” SNL skit, but serious. the movie continues to not know if it’s playing itself seriously or if it knows how bad it truly is (how bad me be?)
finally we get ONE establishing shot of a sweeping wall (maybe? the camera never stays still enough to tell) and the audience (five people) grounds ourselves, sort of. we get a whip-fast, but not whip-smart, super evolution of arthur’s childhood, in which he shoves coins into a wall (see kids!!! if u just put YR COINS IN YR WALLS instead of BUYING GODDAMN AVOCADOS, U COULD HAVE A CASTLE!!!!) and hearkens back to his character in pacific rim, bc he’s just a scrappy, vaguely appropriative white guy that loves 2 fight stuff. oh, his mom is killed when he’s young ofc. charlie hunnam eventually fucks off to the island w the sword in the sort-of stone (none of the physics makes sense in this movie?? the sword in the stone dropped into a lake, but is now in a chasm on a different island which shows no sign of the ruins of arthur’s childhood town?? in the final fight scene, charlie hunnam is several floors up from scythe-y jude law, but then suddenly they’re fighting on the top of saruman’s tower scuse me at the whipping sea-level, then suddenly BACK IN THE TOWER bc i guess it wasn’t destroyed????? bc then it gets destroyed again??) of course, charlie hunnam is the One Man who can Grip the penis sword, even though in an interesting turn of events, They are Testing Everyone by shipping them in boats to the island (this seems like an egregious waste of resources). charlie hunnam got in this unfortch sitch bc i forgot, but the guy who put him on the boat chuckled darkly and said he was “”””getting on a different boat””””, but like, doesn’t everyone end up there?? it had the air of the DMV, on purpose, so why was this a threat? how did he avoid it for so long? are there that many people in the kingdom??? also, if i was him i’d straight up pretend i couldn’t lift it tbh and come back for it when They were getting donuts. oh, another inkheart thing—the BLONDE MOM SURVIVES (!!!??? somehow???? unexplained? she had a HOLE THRU HER BODY??) and maybe has memory loss or something and spends her days being somehow indispensable to jude law despite doing nothing but moving a plate.
i cannot explain the rest of the plot, because i do not understand it. charlie hunnam just EXPERIENCES things with a world-weary, almost kingly worldliness, despite flashing in between being an innocent farm boy who doesn’t wanna do anything and a self-assured wisecracking hustler. there are some good jokes about boring white dude names in a medieval setting, and no more humor forever is allowed in this movie or any movies ever again. a chris parnell lookalike with a hat says he can shoot 75 yards but not 175, then shoots 175 with absolutely no introduction/buildup/continuance/jokes and spends the rest of the film as robin hood. there are some other dudes?????? more women (the brothel ladies that rescue arthur from the river ((not unlike….the prince of egypt…..)) are killed to further manpain, including lucy, who is Special for an unexplained reason. jude law murders his daughter (i guess???), who has a russian name and a tendency to sit around and stroke birds and stare sappily out the window (i feel u, johanna). everyone is wearing medieval versions of suits. there are many iterations of snake, ranging from economy-sized snake to a Giant Fuckmaster Snake Mother. at least five cloaks are cast off. eric bana becomes a literal rock. everything has the vague, shuddering feeling of an improv show where everyone wants the final word/bit. there is grit, there is dirt, there is snake blood, and there is clanking. so much clanking. charlie hunnam is bravely hurling one-liners but no one is listening. what is the sound of only one hand on excalibur???? apparently not as powerful as…………T W O hands on excalibur.
the editing continues to be bizarre. they keep trying to do the inception thing where they talk about the plan while showing the plan, therefore (in inception, correctly) allowing us to get to the good parts, but there ARE NO GOOD PARTS or even parts at all and they don’t fully commit to the dang method anyway. the shining light of the film, an unnamed mage woman with good bone structure and sweet harem pants (and who COULD have at least been set up as morwen but was not) who can possess animals and also make a lot of dust fly around behind her, becomes charlie hunnam’s spiritual guide?? sort of?? maybe love interest??? she seems to have no interest in him or inhabiting the worldly narrative/plane of this movie. i do not blame her. anyway, she’s got the eagles from LOTR on her side. she dopes the shit out of charlie hunnam (again, why) with a literal snake and he solves his daddy/uncle issues (line @ jude law: “”””you created me”””””) in an incomprehensible nonlinear part of the narrative (she was captured, but i guess jude law let her go before hunnam got to the castle???? bc he’s Not So Bad After All? bc he was bored? eating a sandwich? fuck idk so she could have met him in the middle of fuck knows? i mean if they have medieval lyft or medieval twitter DMing or something??) also, he may or may not have gone to a ””””””DARK””””””””island, but he did NOT solve his daddy issues there. he did, however, fight some rodents of unusual size from the princess bride.
ok that is all the energy i have; this movie has sapped me, i am nothing in the great maw of its terribleness. other stuff happens. we have a happy ending, with 4/6ths of the Round Table built (literally and figuratively), and some Vikings conceding to charlie hunnam for no other reason than he’s a bro, i guess. line: how do u scam money out of a viking? u talk to them. SEE MILLENNIALS ALL U HAVE TO DO IS TALK AND PPL GIVE U MONEY or be born the true heir to the throne of (fake england).
the worst part is that i don’t understand how jude law, who is 44, looks the same the entire movie and watches as charlie hunnam, who is 37, grows up and eventually challenges him. eric bana, who is 48, doubtlessly had fictional charlie hunnam arthur at like 27-35, making jude law the same age in that fiction. i guess men can just ???? play any age????????? forever??????? honorable mentions: the soundtrack, jude law’s eyeshadow, and the preview for atomic blonde.
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Brother Samson And Sister Debbie’s Story continues
Sista Debbie writes, "And I slept in his room for the first time". (June 16, 2013)
On the day some graduates who are jobless wrote an employment exams @ a nearby town did I went 2 my love's shop.
I prepared his delicious meal, which is pounded yam with melon soup...He did not like engine grinded pounded yam, he says dat d so called engine pounded yam is not usually soft n well articulated 2geda like d 1 pounded in a morter by pestle...such engine grinded boiled yams do have lattices n inter-callaces, spaces, d atoms and ions are scattered, dey do not form a good compound, its cohesive forces are not strong...it does not form a good ball, good morsel,, when rolled 2geda by d fingers b4 dipping into d soup b4 going into d mouth 4 onward swallowing...it is essentially not a good representation of pounded yam, although it is fair, manageable, but nay good, if some1 has ever tasted such b4...so my love said...
Having felt his pulse on this, and having understand my one and only one...I decide 2 pound d yam...it was smooth, soft, succulent like a baby's ear-lobe...Before I did dis, I have grinded pepper, tomatoes, onions, locust bean, I added cray-fish and melon, all these were grinded on d ancient mortar...People, expert women in cooking, say dat pepper grinded using ancient stone mortar is usually sweeter than d ones grinded by engines, d new technological inventions...Afta I was thru with dis, I have gotten other additives like vegetables, dry fishes, lungs and liver of animals which I have cut 2 small sizes,...all these r going into d grinded melon n others...On d 2nd kerosine stove, I boiled d meat, cow meat, whose nearly dried boiled water shall also serve as other additives to d melon 2 be cooked...Afta dis I fried d meats and a little pepper which i shall add on d melon-vegetable soup afta it is done...At d expiration of d soup did I peeled d Yams and put it on fire...Washed d mortar
And psetle...getting set for the pounding...Afta all said n done, I was thru with all...Afta I took my bathe, arranged d foods in order...off 2 my love's office cum shop...As usual, he was busy in his office, preparing some notes, I guess he shall be ministering 2moro @ d church or perhaps he had an impromptu message 2 deliver @ a place, because he looked subsumed in his thoughts and writings, but I am yet 2 be fully briefed of what he is busy doing in his office...I entered, genuflected few millimeters off d door frame as I stepped into his office...dropped my bag on a settee...and said, "ẹ ku isẹ oni o", I did not wait 4 his response as I walked to his side hugged him and pecked him on d right cheek...took about 3 steps back and dropped d container containing his cooked food @ a corner behind where he sits...""O se o" , but u are a bit late", he replied. "Ẹ má mà dami lohun", I said, as I was dropping d bag. "What is it that has kept u back all dis while?" He asked, as he continue
Writing. "Se ẹ nisẹ fun mi ni?" I asked. "Oh yes. Oh no..." He paused 4m what he was writing, I guess he has muddled up some points...he then speaks loud, ostentatiously not to me, that, ""...As he journied on, he stopped...He will also stop to answer you today and now in Jesus name..." I said "amen". He was quickly writing this down 4m dis I discern dat I am disturbing d flow of "stuffs" which I guess is spiritual, then, I excused myself 4m his office as I said, "My love, am so, so sorry to disturb you, let me go and join the sales staff @ sales department, and when u are thru u can call 4 me". "Oh, thank you dearie...I am sorry 4 the inability 2 attend 2 u now,...I shall soon be through with this section and I will come over and meet you there", he said, dropping the ball-pen, resting his back on the chair and looking directly @ me..."It is no problem "mai" lord, take good care of yourself and do the right justices to the outlined points, as we also continue with the other aspects,
Division of labour "sé", (he nodded his head in affirmative) selling the stocked goods", I said... ""Ẹ se o", I should be thru soon..." he said, half of this last statement I didnt hear because I have already opened d office door, so d noise of the office door as it moves on the hinge dat fastened it to d oda part of d structure shielded his words 4m my hearing...I also gave d sales department staffs their foods, I wrapped their pounded yams in a leaf, "ewe iran" as it is called in our Island and I put their soup in "take-aways", a combustible bowl like structure. The sales staffs are doing justices 2 d food one afta anoda...They did not eat d food @ once dis is done so dat there shall be free staffs to attend 2 customers...Afta a while, every1 has eaten his/her portion...we continued selling things @ d sales department/outlet, but when there is no customer, we resort 2 gisting...we are also taking note of the goods that are out-of-stock, those that are few copies left...so dat "mai"
Lord be intimated of what is left in stock and he wil place orders for more copies as soon as soon can be...I got to d shop @ 14:30 hours the Island's time, but as @ 15:30 hours "mai" love is yet 2 come out...he though sends messages 2 update me through facebook...@ 16:15 hours, he finally came out of his office... ""Se ko si "problems" pẹlu awọn "customers" o"", he said as he walked 2 where I am, placed his 2 palms on my shoulders, becuase I was facing outside while I back d office, as I felt his palms on my shoulders, so I felt his lips touching my head, because my hair was plaited and I had no scarf or cap on...he kissed my head like the Europeans..."I think i love this", I said 2 mysef...""Ko si" problems sire", a staff replied.... ""Agbara Ọlọrun ka awọn to wa "sire", another staff added...""To ò, ẹ ku isẹ o", he said...After he has answered them, he spoke 2 me in a hushed tone, ""Ẹ ku ijoko, se o binu pupọ?" he asked....I shook my head for negativity, ""rara o". Why would I be
Angry? With whom shal I be annoyed? How shall I be miffed?" I asked....He has now put his hands by d arms of d chair, his right hand on d right arm of d chair while his left rests on d left arm of d chair, as he rested his chin on my right shoulder...Just then, one of d staffs looked back and said, ""ỌGA",I like this posture "o"" the other sales staffs looked back and they started commenting, as if we have posted a comment on d facebook, "me too sire", anoda staff said, ""Eleyi ko" bad "o"", anoda staff yet added...."Let us take the picture sire" a staff said and they all chorused thus, "Yes. Yes. Yes. The picture, it shal be good for your profile..." They did not even wait 4 a reply 4m any of us as someone out of them took my fone 4m d table and took the picture...afterwards he said, ""Ọga, look at it, isnt it lovely?" Turning 2 me, he said "abi anti? Isnt it innovative and enthralling?" My love took it 4m him looking @ it he said, ""Ẹyin lẹ mọ̀, se bi ẹ ti yà á tan"".
"No sire. Not a matter of "sebi a ti yà á tan", to be frank and sincere sire, pass comment", a staff said. "Hum... Well...I think so", my love said.... ""Mo mọ tọga bẹ́ẹ̀", I think "nã ni" always", anoda staff enthused. "Ok. What do u want me 2 say, "ẹyin ọmọ yi"", my love said. Anoda staff replied, "With all sense of humility and respect sire", bowing his head, "we expect a nay or yea answer 4m you sire. Isnt this picture respledent, lovely, gorgeous, inspiring, enthralling, tantalizing,..." My love interjected, "I think you have made millions today...or what really happened? Because all of you are joyous", he asked. "We bless God 4 today's sales "ná ọga", as you all know no dull moment with us here, because the joy of the Lord is our strong room (someone among them said "Yes o") but that apart sire, isnt this pics inviting?" the staff concludes. Another staff said, "This pics shall hit the enemies @ a dangerous place sire, when they see it on air". ""O dara nã", it is fine. "Kilẹ fẹ
Gbà nidi ọrọ yi?" My love said.... They all clapped their hands, as if they have re-hearsed it before they chorused, ""Oluwa seun". That is what we wanna hear", a staff added "1st time in history "ọga" conceeds d discussion 2 us". My love pulled me up 4m where I am sitting down as if glued by something 2 d seat watching the master-servant season movie part 8..."Please let us go into d office, because "awọn ọmọ yi ko ni jẹ ka gbadun ọrọ wa nibiyi o"" he said as he helped me 2 my feet with his right hands around my scapular. As I was standing up, someone said, "Please "ọga" on behalf of all", we are both standing now, with his hand yet around me, listening to d staff, "I want u 2 help us thank anti 4 d delicious meal she gave us today o, "mo wi ire tabi ngo wi ire"?" He enthused as he faced his colleagues waiting 4 an answer. They all chorused the answer, "O wi ire". "Ọga", my love said, ""oun na ti ngbọ bayẹn", pls let us go jare"", he added. ""A kì í dupẹ ara ẹni", I said as he allows
As he allows me 2 walk ahead, placing his palms on my shoulders like Island's children while playing games in d moonlight... In his office he told me how pastor phoned him dat he shd prepare 4 message 2moro bc God laid d burden on his heart...He said he has texted me 2 Intimate me dat blessed devpt, but I have not received d text till i got 2 him, all these network problems... Afta he ate his food...He gave me money 2 go n buy oda fudstuffs n prepare soup 4 him...dis also shal afford him d opportunity 2 complete d msg he was preparing... Afta I was tru @ d market, I got 2 his room in a "face me I slap you" house in d Island around 18:45 hours...prepared d foods n soups...He got home around 20:50 hours...2 minutes afta rain began...A heavy rain...it rained 4 an hour...d streets are deserted...I wasnt too sure of how intact d adjoining bridge dat was constructed by communal efforts dat linked my street with d main street shall be, bc well b4 dis heavy rain, erosion has been washing away d edges...so we, my one and only and I, concluded dat I shd sleep in his house dat nyt...
Afta eating, bathing, changing and prayers, I lay on bed...so furtunate 4 us dat d electricity providers of d Island didnt switch off d electricity 2 d island dat day...it was a rare occasion in d island, having electricity during rain...we bless God 4 dat... As I laid on d bed, he returned 2 his writing desk, "wont u rest a while?" I asked. "I shall do but not now", he said. "This man must be a "work-a-holic", what some psychologists called type-A personality", I thousght... As a solemn christian worship song was coming out of his DVD player...I was following d wordings and the rhythm, I did not know when I slept off... @ d midnight, 00:15 hours, I opened my eyes only 2 find him sleeping on a mat on d floor..., "this man "shá", wont he have body ache 2moro? Sleeping on mat? I cannot remember when last I slept on mat...as I think of dis, I fell asleep again...by 04:00 hours, I come out of sleep again...he was awake praying..."Huh, my one and only, broda Samson! Is dis his life-cycle?" I questioned myself. I also attempted praying some silent prayers as he was doing...but I couldnt sustain it bc my eyes were heavy with sleep thus I fell asleep again...around 05:30 hours, I felt his hand gently tapping me..."wake up and let us pray", he said....
DIFFICULT WORDS MEANINGS
*Sista Debbie writes, "And I slept in his room for the first time". (June 16, 2013)
1 (MEANS one
"ẹ ku isẹ oni o", (translation how is work oh)
O se o" , (translation thank you oh)
"Ẹ má mà dami lohun", (translation don’t mind me)
"Se ẹ nisẹ fun mi ni?" (translation do you have work for me? Or do you want to send me an errand?)
"sé", (translation is it) (he nodded his head in affirmative)
""Ẹ se o", (translation Thank you oh)
"ewe iran" (translation is a characteristic big leaf in our land that is being used to wrap things. Hawkers in the olden days and presently in the rural areas use it to wrap things for their buyers
""Se ko si "problems" pẹlu awọn "customers" o"", (translation I hope there is no problems with the customers oh)
...""Ko si" problems sire", (translation there is no problems sir)
""Agbara Ọlọrun ka awọn to wa "sire", (translation The power of God is able for all who come (it is a way of saying with the help of God we have been able to attend to all the customers that come here today, that is the way the Yorubas speak)
To ò, ẹ ku isẹ o", (translation Alright. Weldone)
""Ẹ ku ijoko, se o binu pupọ?" (translation.i hope you are not annoyed for keeping you sitting all this while?)
""rara o". (translation no, not at all)
""ỌGA", (translation Master)
""Eleyi ko" bad "o"", (translation This is not bad or this is good)
""Ẹyin lẹ mọ̀, se bi ẹ ti yà á tan"". (translation That is left to you. Have you finished taken the picture?)
"sebi a ti yà á tan", (translation have we finished taken the picture)
""Mo mọ tọga bẹ́ẹ̀", (translation I have known our master for this)
"nã ni" (translation I think is what he would only say)
"ẹyin ọmọ yi"", (translation You these children)
"ná ọga", (translation in a way master)
""O dara nã", it is fine. "Kilẹ fẹ Gbà nidi ọrọ yi?" (translation okay now, it is fine. What do you want to be given for all these?)
""Oluwa seun". (translation Bless the Lord or Lord be blessed)
"ọga" (translation master)
"awọn ọmọ yi ko ni jẹ ka gbadun ọrọ wa nibiyi o"" (translation These children (or my members of staff) would be disturbing or interrupting our discussions here oh)
"ọga" (translation Master)
"mo wi ire tabi ngo wi ire"?" (translation Have I spoken well or not?)
"O wi ire". (translation You have spoken well)
"Ọga", (translation Master)
""oun na ti ngbọ bayẹn", pls let us go jare"", (translation she is hearing what you are saying, don’t mind them, please let us go)
""A kì í dupẹ ara ẹni", (translation You are welcome)
"face me I slap you" (translation this is a room by room apartment in the nation where a room will face another room, it is not a self-contain room, but rooms in a row without partition but separated by passage where those inhabiting the rooms will have access to the same toilet, bathrooms and toilets. Just like an office that face another office, that is some buildings are in the country
0 notes
"Night And The Stars"
Originally posted in my Live Journal on Jan 22nd, 2006.
~This is a short screenplay I wrote about four years ago [2002]. I had been trying to get at least some small project off the ground, but the deals kept falling apart.
~Finally, I decided to write a totally bare bones 'talking head' piece. I wrote the character of Moondog for myself to play and that of Ulrike for my Dutch model friend Ditteke to play.
~It's pretty much a single location shoot. My friend Jeremy was going to DP it using his high end Sony digital vid cam. And we were going to edit it on his MAC which had Final Cut.
~However, I still needed some production cash. My poor old SAAB Turbo was sitting in the drive way at Hotel Hell with a thrashed tranny, so I sold it for $500.00.
~I had been talking about this project for a few months when I drove Mumsie around and had already had one rehearsal with Ditteke at Hotel Hell.
~But when I got the cash in hand, Mumsie demanded every dime of it because she had given it to me to buy the car two years before. I begged her to let me keep at least a couple of hundred so I could make my film. But she was adamant.
~It was then that I knew for certain that she was my enemy. This betrayal was the real end between us. I stuffed it, but I knew that her primary purpose was to 'keep me in place' within the family system.
~”Night and The Stars” probably will never be made for various reasons that I do not feel like elaborating. But it is a good piece and I wish to share it with you, my loyal readers.
Fade In
int. ulrike's bedroom - day
ULRIKE BACHTOFEN, 20's, beautiful, 'Aryan', sits at her
vanity, wrapped in a towel, wet hair combed back, staring
at herself in the vanity's mirror as if seeing a thousand
miles distant. Bright sunlight pours in thru the window.
On the bed behind her is a short RED DRESS, damaged and
dirty.
dissolve to:
ext. dank alley - night
A empty alley, some garbage bags piled neatly to one side.
A DOOR opens, spilling light. Ulrike stumbles out into the
alley unsteady on her feet. She wears the Red Dress and a
LONG COAT. After a beat, she is followed by VINCE, 40's,
handsome, well-dressed.
Vince
Hey, babe, what's the matter?
Ulrike moves away from him, fumbles with her PURSE. Vince
closes in on her.
Vince
Come on, honey, I think you need to come
back inside.
He reaches for her arm. She abruptly pulls away. He snarls,
slams her up against the alley wall.
Vince
(vicious)
Don't play games, cunt! I paid good mo-
Suddenly, MOONDOG, 40's, big and hairy, explodes on to
Vince, growling and snarling, smashing Vince against the
wall, punching and head butting him. Vince wilts under
this attack, falls to the ground.
Ulrike stumbles back from this, falls backward onto the
pile of garbage bags, passes out.
Moondog kicks and stomps Vince mercilessly. Vince whimpers
like a crushed dog, goes quiet. Moondog 'catches himself',
stops his attack. He takes a deep breath, looks around,
sees Ulrike sprawled on the garbage bags.
Moondog kneels next to Ulrike, checks her eyes. She is 'out
cold'. He sighs. He spots her Purse, puts it in his pocket.
Then he grabs Ulrike and throws her over his shoulder like
a sack and exits the alley.
int. moondog's squat - night
It's a small, unfinished room: bare beams, exposed insula-
tion, cardboard tacked onto the beams. The space is clutt-
ered, but neat. Plastic covers the doorway. Moondog enters
with Ulrike over his shoulder. He carefully lowers her onto
a pile of blankets. She is totally out. Her dress is hiked
up high, showing 'lots of leg'. Moondog smiles softly as he
admires the view, then pulls the hem down, folds her coat
over her legs.
cut to:
Moondog lights a HALF DOZEN NOVENA CANDLES.
cut to:
Moondog is going through Ulrike's Purse, pulls out a SMALL
PISTOL, raises his eyebrows.
moondog
(soft Southern accent)
Walther PPK. Impressive.
He places the Pistol on the floor. He then removes from
the Purse: a compact, a lipstick, a set of car keys, a roll
of twenties, a couple of credit cards, a drivers license.
He looks at the license.
Moondog
(chuckles ironically)
Ulrike.
He takes a twenty, then puts the rest back in the Purse,
lays it next to Ulrike.
dissolve to:
C/U ULRIKE SNORING. Moondog sits against the wall, watches
Ulrike with amused tenderness. He has a B&W COMPOSITION
BOOK in his lap. He picks up a BOTTLE of "GUSANO ROJO"
MESCAL, pours a little into a Styrofoam cup, adds water,
sips, starts writing in the Book.
dissolve to:
Ulrike wakes abruptly, disoriented, sees Moondog, sits up
defensively.
Ulrike
What the fuck is going on?!
Moondog
You were fucked up, your boyfriend was-
Ulrike
He's not my boyfriend!
She flinches in pain from her 'hangover'.
Moondog
Well, whoever his was, he was fucking
with you.
Ulrike
Bastard must have drugged me. How long
have I been here?
Moondog
(shrugs)
I don't know. Three, four hours, maybe.
Ulrike
Shit.
She sees her Purse, checks it.
Moondog
(smiles)
It's all there, including the Walther.
I did take a twenty. Call it a service
charge.
Ulrike
Where's my cell phone?
Moondog
What's there is what's there. 'Cept for
the twenty.
Ulrike tries to stand up, falls right back down.
Moondog
I think you better take it real slow.
Ulrike
(groans)
God, I feel like I've been fucked in the
eyeballs by a rabbit.
Moondog
(laughs loudly)
That's one I've never heard.
He produces a Water Bottle.
Moondog
Here. It's a fresh bottle. I bought it-
Ulrike
With the twenty.
Ulrike takes the Bottle, takes a big swig, then another.
Ulrike
Thanks.
(looks around)
Where is this?
Moondog
This is here.
Ulrike
No, I mean-
Moondog
What is this place?
Ulrike
Yes.
Moondog
A piece of development that has stopped
developing. The Bush recession.
Ulrike
(surprised)
You follow economics?
He points to a Small Stack of Newspapers neatly piled.
Moondog
I get the news a day or two late, but I
pay attention. Besides, it makes great
insulation. Stick it in your boots, just
like on the Ostfront.
She looks at him sharply.
Moondog
No offense, Fraulein.
Ulrike
What makes you think I'm German.
Moondog
I can hear the accent. And no American
is going to name their kid Ulrike.
Ulrike
(annoyed)
I paid a voice coach good money to sound
American.
Moondog
You do mostly. I just have a good ear.
Ulrike
Okay, you know my name. What's yours?
Moondog
I go by Moondog.
Ulrike's face lights up.
Ulrike
Moondog!
(frowns)
No. You're not old enough.
Moondog
You know of the original Moondog?
Ulrike
My father had several of his records.
I always loved his music.
Moondog
You're the first person I've met in twenty
years who knows about Moondog. When I
started living on the streets, I took
his name as a sort of talisman, like a
patron saint.
Ulrike
I remember my father telling me he lived
homeless in New York for a long time.
Moondog
Nearly thirty years, before he moved to
Germany.
Ulrike
Amazing.
Moondog
He died two years ago.
Ulrike
(sad)
Oh.
Moondog
Hey, he was eighty three. He lived an
authentic life. It's all good.
They sit quietly for a moment.
Moondog
You hungry?
Ulrike
Yes. Very.
He pulls out a 7-11 Sandwich.
Moondog
Turkey and cheese from Seven Eleven.
Protein and carbs.
Ulrike
(takes it)
Thanks.
cut to:
Ulrike polishes off the last bite.
Moondog
Better?
Ulrike
(nods)
I was famished.
Moondog
That's a good word.
(looks at her legs)
You're certainly not starving.
Ulrike smiles serenely.
Moondog
So, what was going on there, you
know, in the alley?
Ulrike frowns.
Moondog
Sorry. I'm just plain nosy.
Ulrike
No. It's okay. Talking is good.
(sighs)
I think he probably drugged me, though I
don't know how. I'm usually on top of that
stuff.
Moondog
And he is..?
Ulrike
A new client. I'm an escort.
Moondog
Pro?
Ulrike
As a matter of fact, yes.
Moondog
An ancient and honorably profession.
Ulrike's eye flash with anger.
Moondog
I'm not being sarcastic, darling. In Classic
and Pre-Classic times, many priestesses at
the temples of the Great Goddesses were
Sacred Prostitutes. Men would worship the
Goddess, know Her intimately through the
body of Her priestess. So, I meant what
I said as a compliment.
Ulrike
(emotional)
This is true, about the priestesses?
Moondog
Sure. Just look up Istarte, goddesses like
her in any witchcraft and goddess worship
books. You'll find it.
Ulrike
(cries)
I'm sorry. I'm usually more-
Moondog
In control?
Ulrike laughs as she wipes her tears.
Ulrike
Yes.
She takes out her compact, looks in it's mirror, makes a
face.
Ulrike
Ugh. I'm a mess.
Moondog
You're the prettiest gal I've had over yet.
Ulrike
Probably the only gal you've had over.
Moondog
(grins)
Well, I ain't been here that long.
They both laugh.
Ulrike
(makes face)
Damn, I really do have to pee.
Moondog
The accommodations are a little primitive.
Ulrike
Shit, at this point I'd piss on a hot rock.
Moondog
Settle for a bucket?
Ulrike
Sure.
Moondog pulls out a flashlight, hands it to her.
Moondog
Out through the plastic about five paces,
look down to your right. There's some
napkins nearby.
Ulrike gets up. She's still very wobbly.
Moondog
Do you need any help?
Ulrike
I'm okay.
(leans against wall)
I'll just take it slow.
Ulrike goes out through the plastic, shines the flashlight
on the floor, finds the Metal Bucket, straddles it, hikes
up her dress, pees loudly into the Bucket.
Moondog hears this, raises his eyebrows. Ulrike groans
with relief. Moondog smiles.
Moondog
Where did you learn all those country
witticisms?
Ulrike
Like 'piss on a hot rock"?
Moondog
Yeah.
Ulrike
(finishes, wipes)
I get a lot of clients from Texas.
Moondog
Just leave it. I'll take care of it later.
Ulrike re-enters.
Ulrike
You're not going to do anything weird
with it, are you?
Moondog
(grins)
I only take it straight from the tap.
Ulrike gives him an 'Oh, very funny' look, sits down. She
looks exhausted.
Moondog
I think you should get some more sleep.
Ulrike regards him suspiciously.
moondog
If I was going to do something, it would
already be done.
Ulrike
(relaxes)
Yeah, I suppose that makes sense.
She lays down, folds her coat over her, closes her eyes,
then opens them.
Ulrike
(smiles softly)
By the way, thank you for saving my ass.
Moondog
(grins)
Damsel in distress. Couldn't resist.
Ulrike
(falling asleep)
Strange man.
She goes out like a light. Moondog smiles at her. She
starts to snore.
ext. dank alley - night
Moondog rummages through the pile of garbage bags, finds
something, holds it up: a Cell Phone.
Moondog
Ah!
A little Red Light flashes on the Phone.
Moondog
Oh, well.
int. Moondog's squat - day
Ulrike sleeps soundly as Moondog goes though a Large Sports
Bag, pulls out a Small Mirror, a Disposable Razor, a Small
Pair of Scissors.
cut to:
Moondog brushes his hair, pulls it back into a ponytail.
cut to:
Moondog shaves the stubble on his cheeks.
cut to:
Moondog trims his goatee.
cut to:
Moondog pulls off his dirty Old Sneakers, takes a fairly
New Pair of Sneakers out of a Shoe Box, puts the Old
Sneakers in the Box.
cut to:
Moondog sits against the wall, writing in a Comp Book. He
wears the New Sneakers. Ulrike wakes up. She is pretty
groggy.
Moondog
Coffee?
Ulrike
(mumbles)
Oh, yeah, please.
Moondog pulls a Large Styrofoam Cup from a Paper Bag
Moondog
How do you like it?
Ulrike
How ever you're drinking it.
Moondog produces a handful of Little Creamers.
Moondog
One each. French Vanilla, Hazelnut, and
Cream. Plus a liberal splash of the "Red
Worm".
Ulrike
(takes Cup and Creamers)
The "Red Worm"?
He holds up the Mescal Bottle.
Moondog
Mescal de Mexico. The good stuff from La
Mercado.
She makes a face as she pours the Creamers, then smiles
ruefully, holds out her Cup.
Ulrike
Actually, that might be a good idea.
He pours some into her Cup.
Moondog
Hair of the dog.
Ulrike
Exactly.
Moondog raises his own Cup.
Moondog
Prosit.
Ulrike
Mud in your eye.
They both drink. Her eyes go wide.
Moondog
Good, ain't it?
Ulrike
Good and strong.
(take another sip)
So, what do you call this: "Mexican Coffee"?
Moondog grins, 'remembers', pulls out her Cell Phone.
Moondog
Found it in the alley, but I'm afraid it
need charging.
Ulrike
(takes Phone)
That's okay. I believe I'm out of danger
for the time being.
They smile quietly at each other. moondog take a deep
breath, sighs.
Moondog
How 'bout some small talk?
Ulrike
(laughs)
Fine.
Moondog
How long you been in L.A.?
Ulrike
Almost eleven years.
Moondog
Damn! You must have been a baby when you
got here.
Ulrike
(matter of fact)
I was seventeen.
Moondog
Come to Hollywood to be a movie star?
Ulrike
That was somewhere in the back of my
mind, but, more than anything, I wanted
to get out of Germany.
Moondog
The East?
Ulrike
No, I'm a Black Forest girl, from a good,
middle class, neo-leftist, professional
family. My parents are both teachers.
Moondog
Let me guess. They named you after Ulrike
Meinhof.
Ulrike
(laughs)
That is very good. And, yes, they did.
Moondog
I can see why you wanted out.
Ulrike
And I got my parents to pay for my escape
by majoring in English Literature and
Nineteenth Century German Philosophy.
Moondog
Jesus Christ in haircurlers!
Ulrike
They wanted me to go to Oxford-
Moondog
You got the smarts for Oxford?!
Ulrike
Yes, I do. Anyway, I was already modeling
part time in Germany and Holland and I
intimated that, if I couldn't go to UCLA,
I'd quit and model full time, said I was
tired of North European winters.
Moondog
So you really came for the California
sunshine.
Ulrike
(brightens)
Oh, yes, that, too. I love the sun and
the beach. Even when it rains here, it's
still..cozy. Yes. Cozy. But, what I didn't
realize until I'd been here for several
months was that in L.A. I could become
someone else, anyone I wanted to be. And
no one here would question that.
Moondog
You finish school?
Ulrike
Of course. In three years, Summa Cum Laude.
And I got married, too. A classmate. A big
black football player. Tony was..
(holds her hands apart, laughs)
..magnificent. He said we could start a
'philosophy company' after we graduated:
"We won't have any products, but, we'll
know why we're in business".
Moondog
So much for small talk.
Ulrike
I've never been good at it. Not outside
of work, anyway.
Moondog
Alright then, keep going.
Ulrike lifts her Cup, but it's empty.
Ulrike
(looking in Cup)
Damn.
Moondog
Hey, no problem.
He pulls another Styrofoam Cup from the Paper Bag, hands
it to her with some Creamers
Ulrike
(takes Cup)
Thanks.
(pours Creamers)
So, were was I?
Moondog
Tony. And eschewing small talk.
Ulrike
Right.
(holds Cup out to Moondog)
'Worm' me, please.
He pours the Mescal.
Ulrike
Okay. Tony. Well, he wanted babies, which
I was not even close to wanting to even
think about. I was living my own life for
the first time in my own life. So, I certainly
wasn't going to get myself knocked up..
AUDIO FADE/DISSOLVE TO:
Ulrike is a little drunk at this point.
Ulrike
...My problems are more with Germany itself,
then with my being German. I'm fine with
being a..
(laughs)
..a kraut. When people look at me, they see
a big, blond California girl, especially if
I'm rollerblading in a bikini on the Venice
boardwalk. But, being German..that's..
that's my shadow self, like a secret power.
It's why I love this city. The contrast, the
love affair between the light and the dark
runs through everything here.
Moondog
Example?
They exchange a 'significant look'.
Ulrike
Okay. There's this pink wall, it's the side
of some taco place. You see these walls all
over L.A. Gaudy pastels: yellow's, pink's
blue's, green's, orange's. But, this one
wall, this holds the truth, or shows it,
really. There are palm trees in front of
it, and in the late afternoon their shadows
stretch across it's length, jet black stripes
blacker than black, deep, dark, alive with
'Otherness', the things that lurk, waiting
for the brilliance of the California day to
recede, so the velvet softness of the Cali-
fornia night can flow out over us.
She stops as if embarrassed or overwhelmed.
Moondog
I take it you like the night.
Ulrike
Oh, I love the night. I mean, it's obvious
that I love the day, as well. I love the
warmth of the sun on my skin as I come out
of the ocean. But, the night is my lover.
He folds..No, she. She folds around me like
armor. I actually feel safer at night, as if
I was one of the 'entities' that dwell here.
Moondog
'Entities'?
Ulrike
One of my regulars is full blooded Apache.
He says L.A. is 'the desert made green',
but that it's still the desert and deserts
are alive with 'spirit beings'. He taught
me to believe in them, to 'be at one' with
them.
Moondog
Ich glaube an Nachte.
Ulrike
(surprized)
What?
Moondog
It's Rilke. From Das Stundenbuch.
(thinks)
Du Dunkelheit, aus der ich stamme,
ich liebe dich mehr als die Flamme,
welche die Welt begrenzt,
indem sie glanzt
fur irgend einen Kreis,
aus dem-
Ulrike
('jumps in')
Aus dem heraus kein Wesen von ihr weiss.
Aber die Dunkelheit halt alles an sich:
Gestalten und Flammen, Tiere und mich,
wie sie's errafft,
Menschen und Machte-
Moondog joins in.
Moondog/Ulrike
(simultaneously)
Und es kann sein: ein grosse Kraft
ruhrt sich in meiner Nachbarschaft.
(they pause)
Ich glaube an Nachte.
They sit quietly for a moment.
Moondog
Have you ever given any thought to being
a writer?
Ulrike
Once upon a time.
Moondog
And..?
Ulrike
I'm not sure. No. I am sure. What ever I
started writing seemed..not ugly, but..
horrible is not the word..it's..
moondog
Grotesque?
Ulrike
Yes!
(amazed)
How did you know that one?
Moondog
The legend of the Gorgons is that their
hideousness turned men into stone. But,
the truth is the Gorgons were inhumanly
beautiful. It was their gorgeousness that
paralyzed men.
Ulrike
(laughs)
You are the most effortless bullshit artist
I have ever met.
Moondog grins happily. Ulrike holds out her Cup.
Moondog
More coffee?
Ulrike
Fuck the coffee. Give me more Mescal.
He pours some more. She takes a big gulp.
Ulrike
Jah, das ist der shisse!
They both laugh.
Ulrike
So, more small talk?
Moondog
Please.
Ulrike
Okay.
(thinks, then smiles)
My control issues. Part of why I so enjoy
my work. I was really shocked, well, not
shocked, I sort of knew already, but,
surprised, I suppose, by how many men 'get
off' by being sexually controlled and dom-
inated by a woman.
(laughs)
They love to 'go down' on shoes. Some sort
of subliminated homoerotic impulse, I would
imagine...
AUDIO FADE/DISSOLVE TO:
Ulrike is now fairly drunk.
Ulrike
..And the modeling wasn't really working
out, Tony's gone, okay, I dumped him..
got my Green Card! Got my Green Card..
Okay, I went to this party, with a this
producer I knew. I was trying the acting
route, thought if I fucked producers I'd
get successful as an actress, or at least
get some work. I was functionally broke.
I looked..? Looked..?
(thinks)
What's the fucking word?!
('gets it!')
Flush! I looked flush, but I was J-O-B.
"Just over broke". Okay, so I'm at this
party, and I this is where I meet Rachel,
very sophisticated, a Southerner. Like you.
Moondog
Maybe. My family are Virginia Tidewater
people.
Ulrike
Whatever. Rachel's from..Dallas, lots of
money, real Blue Book.
Moondog
There are all kinds from Texas.
Ulrike
(good natured)
Oh, fuck you.
Moondog
I wish, honey.
(taps chest)
Bad ticker. The medicine just plain takes
the lead out of my pencil.
Ulrike
Just as well. Your dick's run you guys.
Moondog
I can't really argue with that.
Ulrike
Okay. Okay.
('spaces')
Rachel! She spots me, like she has radar.
Gets my number, calls the next day. I
thought she was hitting on me. Not that
I minded. She's beautiful and I like women.
I like sex. Cock is best, but pussy is fun,
too. Anyway, it was a free lunch, and I
like to eat. Over coffee, she begins telling
the most horrible jokes I have ever heard.
Moondog
Horrible how?
Ulrike
Sick. Very funny, but truly sick. I mean,
really repulsive. And I laughed so hard,
I couldn't breath. As I'm gasping, she
tells me that she runs an escort service,
caters to wealthy men, and some women, too.
Says most of the time there isn't any sex
involved, that it's not a requirement, but..
How did she put it?
(thinks)
"Flexibility fattens the bottom line".
(laughs)
Always remembered that phrase. And the
jokes. I tell them to my 'special' clients.
(coy)
And to a few others.
('gathers herself')
Okay, there's this bar downtown, local
watering hole, low rent and old fashioned.
Even has a spittoon. So, it's early in the
day, right after opening its doors, the
bartender is getting ready, doing his side
work, when this bum comes in. He's nasty
looking, already a little drunk. He comes
up to the bar and says: "Gimme a drink!"
The bartender says: "Let's see some money."
The bum's like: "I don't got no fucking
money. Gimme a drink!" The bartender goes:
"Take a fucking hike, asshole!" The bum
says: "Gimme a fucking drink, or I'll
drink this fucking spittoon." The bartender
says: "Be my guest, shithead." So the bum
picks up the spittoon, starts to raise it
to his lips. The bartender is like: "Okay,
okay. I'll give you a drink." Pours him
a shot. The bum knocks it back. The bar-
tender shows him a billyclub, says: "Now
get the fuck outta here, or I'll split
your fucking head!" The bum leaves. A
couple of hours later, as the place is
filling up with the regular lunch time losers,
the bum stumbles back in, staggers up to the
bar, says: "Gimme a fucking drink!" The
bartender says: "Let's see some fucking
money." The bum goes: "I don't got no fuck-
ing money! Gimme a fucking drink!" The bar-
tender gets really pissed: "Get the fuck
out!", he says and pulls out the billyclub.
The bum goes: "Gimme a fucking drink or I'll
drink the fucking spittoon!" Some of the
customers grown and laugh. The bartender
says: "You're a lying sack of shit! You ain't
got the balls!" The bum goes: "Oh, yeah?!",
and picks up the spittoon, puts it to his
lips. The bartender just crosses his arms.
And then the bum starts drinking: "Glug-
Glug-Glug." The bartender flips: "Stop!
Stop! I'll give you the drink!" The bum
keeps swallowing: "Glug-Glug-Glug." People
start screaming, running of the bar. Finally,
the bum finishes: "Gasp!" The bartender is
hysterical: "I gave you the drink. Why didn't
you stop?!" The bum gasps: "I couldn't. It was
all on one string." Later that night, in the
same bar, there's this hunchback sitting all
the way at the end of the bar by himself.
He's a sad, ugly little fellow. Very ugly.
I mean really fucking ugly, and he is
knocking back drink after drink, feeling
sorry for himself, 'cause he's so fucking
ugly he can't get laid. Even the two dollar
whores won't fuck him for a twenty. So, he
sits and drinks. Every night. This night,
however, something happens. The hunchback
is sitting when he realizes the whole place
has gone dead silent. He looks around to
what's up and immediately spots the reason.
Standing in the doorway is a tall stunningly
beautiful redhead in a black leather body
suit, real tight, like it was sprayed on,
all done up with big silver zippers. She's
surveying the room like a big game hunter.
And her eyes lock on the hunchback. She
strides straight across the barroom to him,
sits on the barstool next to him, smiles
seductively. He's not sure what the fuck is
going on here, if he's some kind of weird
scavenger hunt item, or the like, until he
looks in her eyes, which are as red as her
hair. "She's totally smashed," he thinks,
deciding to run with this. He's ugly, not
stupid. "Buy me a drink, big boy?" She purrs.
"Su-su-sure." He buys her a drink. She
knocks it back. "Live around here?" she
says, licking her lips. "Yeah. Right around
the corner," he says. She smiles: "Got any
booze?" "Just a bottle of gin." "Perfect,"
she says, grabbing him by the arm. "Let's
go." She's very strong, practically carries
him out of the bar and back to his little
shithole apartment. "The gin's in the
kitchen," he says, leaves her in the living
room to get in. When he comes back in, she
is standing there stark naked: big, beautiful
tits, smooth white skin, a bright red bush.
He pops a hard-on that tents his pants.
He's got a very big cock. She looks at that
bulge and just fucking jumps him, tearing
his clothes off. For the next four or five
hours they fuck and suck and drink and suck
and fuck. She puts her tongue everywhere:
I mean 'everywhere', and he fucks her five
times in every hole she's got. Near dawn,
they collapse and pass out. Around mid
afternoon, she comes to. She's not quite so
smashed anymore, takes a good look at the
hunchback, and her stomach begins to gurgle.
He's ugly: it's not just the hump, but his
weird skin, all rippled and covered with
hairs and warts. When she looks at a really
big wart on his cock, the wiry black hairs
sprouting out of it, she just pukes up every
thing: "WHAAAAGGGHHH!!" all over him. He
wakes up, sees that he's all covered with
this warm, stinking puke, freaks out, starts
reaching behind, trying to touch his back.
The redhead says: "I'm so sorry. I guess I
drank too much." The hunchback says: "You
puked on me?" She says: "Yes, I'm so sorry."
He collapses with relief: "Thank God", he
gasps: "I thought my hump burst." Of course
this incident devastates him, and he leaves
the city, going from place to place, drink-
ing too much, and still not getting laid.
Finally, he's in this little, one horse
town, sitting on the sidewalk, in front of
bar, drunk, horny, and depressed. An old
man walks by, says: "What's the matter,
sonny?" The hunchback is too upset to talk,
just points to the bulge in his pants. "Oh,"
says the old man, "Well, what about a whore?"
"I'm too ugly for the whores," moans the hunch
back. "You are pretty fucking ugly," says the
old man, "But Sandpaper Sally won't mind."
"Sandpaper Sally?" "Yep, she's pretty near
as ugly as you, and she'll fuck anything
for ten bucks." The hunchback's spirits lift:
"Where do I find her?" The old man points
down the street: "In a beat up house about
a half mile out of town." So, the hunchback
goes down the street, finds the beat up
house, knocks on the door. An ugly old woman
in a raggedy print dress opens the door.
"What?" she says. "Are you Sandpaper Sally?"
She grins a toothless grin: "The one and
only." "I want to get laid." he says. She
looks him up and down: "Okay, but it'll be
twenty for you, 'cause you're double ugly."
He pulls out a twenty. She takes him inside
to the bedroom, turns out the light. They
undress in the dark, climb on the bed. She
grabs his cock, guides it to her cunt. He
starts pushing it in, but her cunt is dry
and hard, like sandpaper. "Ow! Ow!" he goes,
stops, but he's super horny, tries again:
"Ow! Ow!" He can't do it. "It hurts too
much." he says. "Hold on," she tells him,
starts moving around, grunting a bit, then:
"Try it now." He gets his cock by her cunt,
pushes in: "Oh, my God!" he says as he slides
deep into this smooth, creamy, wonderful
pussy, just starts fucking her long and
hard. "Oh, this is fucking great. What did
you do?" "Well, I just pulled off the scabs."
Ulrike sits and smiles innocently, as Moondog shrieks with
laughter, gasping for breath (NOTE: Moondog's laughter
starts halfway though the first joke, builds steadily)
Moondog
(face bright red)
That is..that's..those are..the most..
fucked up..
He can't talk for laughing. Then, there is a change. He
grasps his chest, grimaces.
Moondog
(strained)
Oh, fuck me.
Ulrike
(alarmed)
What's the matter?
Moondog
I think I popped a valve, honey.
He GROANS, lapses into a torpid state. He rushes over to
Moondog's side.
Ulrike
(upset)
Shit, don't you die on me.
She pulls out her Cell Phone, tries to dial: It's dead.
Ulrike
Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!
Moondog
('comes back')
No. It's okay. I don't want to die in no
fucking hospital, anyway.
Ulrike
But, I've got to do something. I can't let
you just die.
Moondog
(chuckles)
Control issues?
(flinches)
Oh, shit, that hurts.
(deep breath)
There is something you can do for me,
darling.
She looks at him expectantly.
int. Ulrike's suv - night
Ulrike drives, Moondog in passenger seat, eyes closed. His
breathing is labored, but he is breathing. Ulrike looks
over at him with concern and sadness. Outside, a SIGN read-
ing TWENTY NINE PALMS 15 goes past.
ext. desert - just before dawn
The SUV pulls to a stop along a DIRT ROAD in the open
desert.
cut to:
Ulrike helps Moondog over to a little rise. He sits, leans
against some rocks. She sits next to him.
Moondog
(sighs)
There. That's better.
She looks at him with quiet anguish. He smiles, pats her
hand.
Moondog
It's okay, darling. The sun's going to
shine on my face as I die in the desert
with a beautiful woman at my side. It's
a poet's death. Just remember me, maybe
get my stuff out there. Always easier to
get the dead published.
She smiles weakly. The sky is lightening.
Moondog
There. Isn't that beautiful?
The RISING SUN lights his face. He smiles happily, sits
very still. After a moment, Ulrike closes his eyes, kisses
them, kisses his lips, looks at the Sun.
int. Ulrike's suv - day
Ulrike sits in the Driver's Seat, stares blankly. She turns
the Rear View mirror to look at herself. Her eyes are dead.
Suddenly, she hits herself on the chest, looks into the
Mirror: nothing. She hits herself over and over again,
looks in the Mirror: nothing. She takes her Pistol out of
her Purse, checks the Magazine: it's full. She slams the
Magazine back in the Pistol, 'cocks it', puts the muzzle
in her mouth. Looks at herself in the Mirror: 'something'.
She puts her lips around the Pistol barrel like it was a
cock.
cut to:
C/U: Ulrike grabbing the sides of her Panties, ripping
them.
She puts finger in her mouth, sucks it, puts in a second
finger, a third, a fourth, pulls them out, jams them bet-
ween her legs violently, thrashes about, puts her legs up
on the dash board, practically 'rapes herself' with her
fingers, has a loud, screaming orgasm, then begins to SOB
and SOB, a flood of tears.
int. Moondog's squat - day
Ulrike enters, somewhat disheveled, looks around.
cut to:
Ulrike goes through the SEVERAL CARDBOARD BOXES. They are
ALL FILLED with B&W COMP BOOKS.
Ulrike
Jesus!
She picks a BOOK at random, opens it.
Moondog(v.o.)
Big, fat, gray rat,
trapped smack dab
in the intersection
of Olympic and Fig,
its nose twitches,
its tail flicks,
its body spasms.
Me and the vatos
laugh hysterically,
relieved to see something
more frightened and
confused than we are.
She puts the Book back, picks another, opens it.
Moondog(v.o.)
My wet hair halos
my dreams
as the sad faced bishop
weeps behind the bars
in my eyes
and you come and
kiss me, my love
hold me as my heart
opens like a rose
whose petals enfold you
as yours enfold me
so close, my love
our bodies glowing
in the darkness
your warmth
safe in my arms
my tears
wash you clean
your pain seeps
into my bones
and I love you
as you glide gently
through this night
far away
with your secret
deep inside me.
Ulrike seems very moved by this one. She puts the Book back
into the Box, picks that up, exits.
cut to:
Ulrike stands in the squat, looks around. All the Boxes
are gone. By Moondog's 'bed' she sees one last COMP BOOK.
She picks it up, exits.
int. Ulrike's suv - day
Ulrike gets in, puts the Comp Book on the passenger seat.
The back of the vehicle is filled with Moondog's Boxes.
She goes to start the vehicle, then picks up the Last Comp
Book, flips its pages: it is half full. She looks at the
'last entry'.
Moondog(v.o.)
This fine German vessel has run aground
upon my shoals. She has beautiful lines
and great rigging. I cannot yet tell if
she is a racing craft, or a warship.
Seems a bit of both. Whatever the case,
she is definitely the stuff of poetry. Ah,
she begins to stir. I wonder if she likes
Mescal?
She smiles poignantly, get teary eyed, looks up at the sky.
It is a clear, beautiful day.
dissolve to:
ext. beach - day
It is a clear, beautiful day. Ulrike comes out of the
ocean wearing a TINY BIKINI. She seems at peace.
cut to:
Ulrike sits in a BEACH CHAIR on a Blanket. She has a B&W
COMP BOOK upon her lap. After a beat, she begins to write.
Ulrike(v.o.)
Gretel waste ein Sexarbieter in Los Angeles.
She stops.
Ulrike
No. This is an American book.
She crosses out the sentence, starts again.
Ulrike(v.o.)
Gretel was a sex worker in Los Angeles.
Sometimes she missed her home in the Black
Forest: the pines, the mist..
She pauses, looks around, smiles with satisfaction, goes
back to writing.
Ulrike(v.o.)
..But, this was not one of those days. The
sun baked her from above, the sand from
below. She soaked up the warmth: a long,
luscious, Aryan Pop-Tart..
AUDIO FADE/DISSOLVE TO:
int. Ulrike's livingroom - night
Ulrike is typing on a LAP TOP. Next to it, the Comp Book
is up on a TYPING STAND. (SCENE SHOT from DIFFERENT ANGLES
and DISSOLVES as the AUDIO FADES IN and OUT from line to
line)
Ulrike(v.o.)
..Wanted to escape Germany's fear of its
past, escape her father's shame and loathing
of his father, the grandfather in the family
scrapbook, the SS officer who looked so
daring and brutal, standing against the
broad Russian landscape, columns of dark
smoke on the horizon..
(FADE)
..The Swede loved to lick the toes of her
pink patent leather pumps. She forced the
shoe into his mouth, gagging him, yanking
hard on his leash..
(FADE)
..Which was why she would take no black
clients. Black men were her own private
reserve. Simply thinking of the shiny
satin skin of a big black cock made her
begin to lubricate..
(FADE)
..Diana laughed. "Two hours up the coast
to Santa Barbara with six hundred pounds
of hot, throbbing steel between your legs,"
she stroked Gretel's cheek, "Then I'll pull
your panties off and eat your pussy until
your screams peal the varnish off the head
board." Gretel smiled demurely. "We'll see
who screams," she thought, picturing the
thick, red, ten inch strap-on that lurked
in her backpack.
cut to:
C/U LAP TOP KEYBOARD: Ulrike hits the "SAVE KEY".
cut to:
C/U PRINTER: PAGE after PAGE is printed out.
cut to:
C/U DESK TOP - A STACK of PAGES: Top Page reads "Untitled
Novel by Ulrike Bachtofen". SOUND of PHONE BEING DIALED.
Ulrike is on the PHONE, waits.
Ulrike
Hello, Rachel. It's Ulrike.
(pause)
Yes, I know. But, it's like a car crash:
you don't just give up driving. Besides,
I have to feed the Gorgon.
(pause)
I'll explain later.
(pause, smiles)
Oh, he is? Good.
(picks up pen)
Sure. Where is he staying?
cut to:
Ulrike is dressed very elegantly. She checks the Magazine
of her Pistol, puts it in her purse, heads for the door.
Then she stops, goes back to the Desk. She writes on the
Top Page, looks at it, smiles with satisfaction, exits.
SOUND of DOOR CLOSING.
C/U TOP PAGE: "Untitled Novel" has been crossed out. Hand
written above it are the WORDS "FEEDING THE GORGON".
Ulrike(v.o.)
..And the soft, velvet night enfolded her
like armor, the night and the stars.
Fade to Black
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