The bartender goes into the bathroom to investigate why the drunk is screaming. “What’s all the screaming about in there? You’re scaring the customers!”

“I’m just sitting here on the toilet and every time I try to flush, something comes up and squeezes the hell out of my testicles.”

With that, the bartender opens the door, looks in and says…”You idiot! You’re sitting on the mop bucket…..

2.) One day, in line at the company cafeteria, Jack says to Mike behind him, “My elbow hurts like hell. I guess I better see a doctor.”
“Listen, don’t waste time,” Mike replies. “There’s a diagnostic computer down at Target. Just give it a urine sample and the computer will tell you what’s wrong and what to do about it. It takes ten seconds and costs five pounds…… a lot quicker and better than a doctor”.
So Jack deposits a urine sample in a small jar and takes it to Target. He
deposits five dollars, and the computer lights up and asks for the Urine sample.
He pours the sample into the slot and waits. Ten seconds later, the computer
ejects a printout:
“You have tennis elbow. Soak your arm in warm water and avoid heavy
activity. It will improve in two weeks”.
That evening while thinking how amazing this new technology was, Jack began wondering if the computer could be fooled. He mixed some tap water, a stool sample from his dog, urine samples from his wife and daughter, and masturbated into the mixture for good measure.
Jack hurries back to Target, eager to check what will happen. He deposits five pounds, pours in his concoction, and awaits the results. The computer prints the following:
1. Your tap water is too hard. Get a water softener.
2. Your dog has ringworm. Bathe him with anti-fungal shampoo.
3. Your daughter has a cocaine habit. Get her into rehab.
4. Your wife is pregnant. Twins. They aren’t yours. Get a lawyer.
5. If you don’t stop playing with yourself, your elbow will never get
better….and thank you for shopping at Target.

Really what is going on right now is i feel so alone, like all my relationships are distant. nobody is close to me. i can’t seem to generate a positive thought. i cant sleep. i have no appetite. things seem really far away like im not in my body. i am staring at knives in the kitchen and having thoughts of hurting myself. i feel as though im losing my grip on reality and really need some help

even thought he gave us pain
we will not die in pity or vain
the sun will not force us dry
the rain shall not make us cry
he may be man but we woman are strong
when he is right we are not always wrong
we are not a storage a bag nor a cave
we fed the hungry and freed the slaves
we mad miracles encore and encore
we ened the depression and won the wars
and sorry mr president we rule the state
i mean look at us we wear dresses and skate
so when ever he says your nothing
laugh and say im the reason your something

or

jezebel

wise woman once told me i was a queen
they said my smile shines and my walk is mean
they told me stories of bodies they sell
they bought me a silk dress and called me jezebel
they took me into the streets where i met a man named fred
he bought me a drink then took me to bed
he said
jezebel jezebel your juices are flowing
jezebel jezebel your body is glowing
my mother once gave me lipstick and heels
she told me when you see a fellow bow down and kneel
for he has money and gold for days
so jezebel just play the game he plays
then he says
jezebel jezebel your juices are flowing
jezebel jezebel your body is glowing
my daughter once told me i was a hag
she said my heart is worthless and my body was a bag
she couldnt look at me in the eyes
she made me cry
when she said
jezebel jezebel your juices are flowing
jezebel jezebel your body is glowing

*************************************************************************
Prologue

“Things aren’t always as they seem.” We have all heard this phrase in some way or another. It is a classic grouping of words that is now considered cliché. We are all told not to use these words. We are told to come up with something more original, more creative. But this was exactly what I was thinking the day that I found out, the day that changed me forever. I miss the old me sometimes. Life was easier then, less complicated. And yet, I only half wish that I never found out, never fully. “Found out what exactly?” you might be asking. But I’m not ready to tell you that. There is a time and place for that story, and that is not now. I have to start my story from the beginning, where all good stories start. The beginning of this story was the day that I decided I would be living in the dorm of Night Angel.

Chapter One

“No, Nicole, definitely not that one. Just look at the name. It just screams party dorm. Do you really want a bunch of intoxicated fraternity boys around you 24/7? You know that you are better than that.”
This is the way that it had been going for the past hour: my mother and me sitting across from each other on the couch, picking “together” which dorm I would be living in up at Brington University come fall. All I was trying to do was pick a dorm that worked for me, but so far, everyone that I had picked, my mother had shot down. She claimed that I “deserved better”. Like that was what she was really thinking. She just didn’t want to have to tell her colleagues that her daughter was living with someone who didn’t own a 10-bedroom house or a 12-person staff back home. She was always so judgmental.
“Mom, really. I like this one. I don’t care if it’s not perfect. It just seems like the right dorm for—“
“Night Angel has way more to offer than any of the other dorms there. Every one who has been a part of it has said that it made college the most memorable experience of their lives,” my mom repeated for about the 5th time that night.
“I know that but I don’t care if—“
“Seriously, Nicole, don’t you remember our visit? Everyone there was so friendly. How could you not want that?” she said, looking at me with a quizzical expression, one that questioned my sanity. Why did she always do this to me when I didn’t agree with her? Why couldn’t she accept the fact that, for once, I might actually know what is best for me?
Apparently she didn’t pick up everything that I did during our visit. They were all friendly. She was right about that. So friendly, in fact, that it was bordering creepy. The whole group of them had all had huge fake smiles plastered onto their faces. I didn’t see a single other expression the whole time I was there. It gave me the impression that none of them really wanted to be there, that all the happiness was, in truth, an act. But I brushed off this idea, like I had when it first came to me. There was no way that my suspicions could be true. It just didn’t make sense.
“Mom, I just don’t want the same thing as—“
“Nicole, you have not listened to a single word that I have said about Night Angel. Why are you not willing to give it a chance?” she inquired with an expertly offended look on her face. This put me over the edge.
“I’m not listening to a word you say?” I asked incredulously, finally taking a stand… literally. I was on my feet without consciously thinking about it. “How dare you even say that when you have been interrupting me for the past hour!” I could hear my voice getting higher and higher with rage. My mother was looking at me as if I was a two year old throwing a temper tantrum. Unbelievable! “Enough is enough, Mom. I am going to pick which dorm I will live in because I will be the one living there! Got it?”
“Calm down, Nicole. This is nothing to get so upset about,” she answered in a patronizing tone.
“I will not calm down! My whole life you have been making decisions for me. This time, I won’t let you!” I practically screamed in her face. She just stared at me, waiting for me to be finished. I stared back, breathing heavily.
“That’s perfectly alright, Nicole.” I couldn’t believe my ears. This actually worked? I was elated. But then she continued. “If you don’t want to live in Night Angel, that’s fine. But don’t expect me to pay for your tuition, or books, or anything else. If you want to make your own decisions, then you are on your own,” she finished, as calmly as if she were talking about the weather.
This couldn’t be happening! She had long ago agreed on paying for my college, so I had never saved up mo
so I had never saved up mo ney. Why worry about it when my mother had more than enough? But now I realized. It was a mistake. I should have seen this coming. I should have prepared for it. This was so like my mother: taking away my only chance of a life on my own, so that she could control me forever. I wasn’t being overly dramatic by saying forever. I meant it. I knew that this would never end. She would always find something, anything, that she could use to keep me in her web.
I tried to think of a way around it, any way that I could still go to college without her help. Loans, I could do loans… no, I would end up paying off debt for the rest of my life. I chose Brington University without even considering cost of tuition. And I was pretty sure that Brington was notorious for it’s exceptionally high tuition. I couldn’t do this alone. She had caught me, like a fly, in her carefully spun web.
“Fine,” I finally answered, hating the victorious smirk that crept onto her face. “I’ll live in Night Angel.”

She was sentenced to 10 days in jail.

The average sentence for crack possession in the US? 120 months (United States Sentencing Commission, 1999 Sourcebook of Federal Sentencing Statistics)

So, if you still think there isn’t a royalty in the USA, think again.

The limousine glided through the mist like a ship in a harbour. If it had been daytime, people would have pointed and maybe even waved, but 5 am was too early to recognize a small town celebrity. The passenger of the long black car was glad that no one was up; he had made the early trip on purpose. No one would see him drive off, without a goodbye or even a tear. No one would see his tears.

The woman beside him adjusted the strap of one of her red sandals. A sash was missing from her obviously designer dress, or had it even been there? He could not remember. She opened her sequined purse and pulled out a lipstick, applied it, and carefully replaced it. She sighed. He was being too quiet, she thought. But she knew why.

They had gone to school together their whole lives. Though they had not always been friends, they always seemed to find each other, and last night had been no different. She hated seeing him this way, but it was the way he had been for many years. Two years ago she had gone to Los Angeles to visit him. He seemed happy, almost as if he had forgotten the whole thing altogether, but she should have known better. Three months after her visit, his attempted suicide was all over the news. His maid had walked in on him on the floor, pill bottles and blood all over the carpet. She had called 911, and he lived to see another pain filled two years, with scars on his wrists to prove it. And now his ten year class reunion. She had half expected him not to show up. But he came, a model on each arm and obviously drunk. Years of alcoholism and heartbreak showed on his face.

“Dan.” she said “Go see her.”. He looked into her eyes and she thought she saw tears, but he turned away. “Stop the car.” he said. He got out, lit up a cigarette, and stood there for a while, smoking in silence. She peered out of the car at the man who was only half of himself, feeling sorry for him. He got back into the car, spoke to the driver, and then sat back down next to her. “I’m sorry for the inconvenience, Margaret.”

The car started to move again, but it didn’t drive towards the highway. Instead it took a dusty old road, up a hill, to a church overlooking the ocean below. A rusty iron fence bordered a cemetery filled with crooked white crosses, and leaning tombstones. He got out of the car and walked to the far corner of the cemetery. It was a beautiful cemetery, unlike most. It was high up on a cliff and overlooked the ocean for miles. He walked up to a headstone. It looked as if it had been taken care of very well. A bouquet of wilted flowers lay across it. He moved them, and read the name.

He hadn’t been there for the birth of his daughter. He didn’t even know that Eliza had been pregnant until he got a phone call from his mother late one night. Every time he thought about that phone call, he would feel the same pain and guilt he had felt that night. He was so shattered that he couldn’t speak for days; he just stayed in his room, alone in the dark for weeks. After that, he pretended that nothing had happened. He never went to the funeral or to see his daughter. He knew that if he saw her he would break down again. He had been told that she was exactly like her mother. Her name was Audrey, and she would be almost 10 now. Of course he sent money every month, and she would send the odd father’s day or birthday card. But they stayed unopened and unread.

Dan started to cry and fell on to his knees. He loved her now just as much as he had loved her in the past, but he missed her more now. He could still remember her face, her lips, her hair, how she smelled, and felt. But she wasn’t coming back, and he needed to realize that, even after all the years of pretending not to. So he wiped his face, got up, and walked back to the car. They drove in silence back down the dusty road, through town, and to a white house on the outskirts of town. Dan walked up the stairs, his heart breaking though he didn’t know how it could break anymore. He knocked on the door and a small child opened it. She was dainty and fragile. Black curls framed her face and blue-green eyes danced behind them. She was every bit her mother, and for once in a very long time, Dan felt whole.

Dear Dad,

It is with great regret and sorrow that I’m writing you, but I’m leaving home. I had to lope with my new boyfriend Randy because I wanted to avoid a scene with Mom and you. I’ve been finding real passion with Randy and he is so nice to me. I know when you meet him you’ll like him too – even with all his piercing, tattoos, and motorcycle clothes. But it’s not only the passion Dad, I’m pregnant and Randy said that he wants me to have the kid and that we can be very happy together. Even though Randy is much older than me (anyway, 42 isn’t so old these days is it?), and has no money, really these things shouldn’t stand in the way of our relationship, don’t you agree? Randy has a great CD collection; he already owns a railer in the woods and has a stack of firewood for the whole winter. It’s true he has other girlfriends as well but I know he’ll be faithful to me in his own way. He wants to have many more children with me and that’s now one of my dreams too. Randy taught me that marijuana doesn’t really hurt anyone and he’ll be growing it for us and we’ll trade it with our friends for all the cocaine and ecstasy we want. In the meantime, we’ll pray that science will find a cure for AIDS so Randy can get better; he sure deserves it!! Don’t worry Dad, I’m 15 years old now and I know how to take care of myself. Someday I’m sure we’ll be back to visit so you can get to know your grandchildren.

Your loving daughter,
Rosie.

At the bottom of the page were the letters “PTO”. Hands still trembling, her father turned the sheet, and read:

PS: Dad, none of the above is true. I’m over at the neighbour’s house. I just wanted to remind you that there are worse things in life than my report card that’s in my desk centre drawer. Please sign it and call when it is safe for me to come home. I love you!!!

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