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#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
wetpapert0wel · 10 months
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hey......what if. instead of tumblr making their own gaiaonline avi things......what if we just went to gaia online.......
#/mostly j but like#the site is Fucking Dead. the reason people left is because the creators. i think were forced to sell out? but they have the rights back.#they sold out either way. forced or not. and the new-old owners made changes that everyone hated & added stuff that completely obliterated#the economy. granted the economy is still fucked. and the best way to make money requires dedicating like 10 minutes out of your day#to find & collect all the daily rewards (there are a handful of forum posts that have all the dailies listed). most are items. few are good#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#or thru adobe Air and thru gaia's very own app. which is ''being updated'' as of 2021......#i found it hard 2 play thru waterfox- the lag was fucking astronomical. it was gut-wrenchingly horrible. tho that might just b my experienc#the app is a lot easier to work with but the amt of gold/plat is usually wrong whenever i boot it up lol. either tells me an amt from like#a month ago. or it just tells me a completely bogus amt lmao. making money thru their game is its own struggle tho.#but besides selling stuff in the marketplace. there isn't really any other way to get money.#tl;dr the economy on gaia is still fucked. and to get anything good you have to commit to logging in daily. and even then it's gonna#take a while. But The Avis Are Cute. and imo they could use the traffic lmao#tho if yall DO decide to throw some traffic their way if ur old enough & qualified apply for mod/admin jobs bc their staff is TINY rn.....#it's pretty much ur average anime-centric forum. no frills. no glitter. just a good old-fashioned forum site lol#so hey..........maybe give gaia a try? ...... /not j?#like unless there are problems that i am completely oblivious to. tbf i dont spend a ton of time on there lmao. i'm in & out for the dailie#orignaletti
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lanajvmeson · 4 years
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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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aheartofwood · 7 years
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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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olusegundare · 5 years
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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
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nebris · 7 years
Text
"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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