and i find reasons to smile
when i read what you write.
Thankee, Mr Ellis. That first line has cheered me right up.
Interesting to see what people can capture in 100 words.
Maybe if more people around me died weirdly, in some freakish way that made me remark on the manner of death, maybe then I wouldn't fixate on the gaping holes their utterly normal deaths created.
Trust me: odd-looking deaths do not mitigate that AT ALL.
Things like this make me glad that YOU ended up as the Internet Space Jesus and not someone less... interesting.
i suspect that there are cetain requirements a person must fill before they have the balls to declare themselves internet space jesus while sane.
add to that the necessary requirements of the surrounding culture (no internet space jesuses in the middle east or, i'm betting, most of the rest of the world) and era (the beatles got flamed hard for joking they were bigger than jesus) and blah blah blah . . .
in short, only warren ellis or someone like him could be internet space jesus, just like only that one old man in san francisco could be the US's emporer.
2006-06-12 09:18 pm (UTC)
Guess we won't see that happening anytime soon on CSI ; )
My first thoughts were...now that would make an interesting CSI!
2006-06-12 09:19 pm (UTC)
More violent penis death? I never thought it would get stale, but... it has, I'm afraid.
Lucky you're not paying for this, then.
Makes me wonder if that's possible...
Wonder if she rooted for the wrong team..
Wonder if she rooted the wrong team..
That'll teach him: for giving her that liquid nitrogen enema before he fucked her.
Um. I'm curious. What did he die of?
[If the answer is obvious and I'm being thick, I blame my stupidity on the fact that I have my first exam tomorrow and my brain feels fried.]
That was my first thought too. Is it really possible to die of snapped-off-cock?
You, sir, are a literary god.
I started reading this as a possible future Fell story.
I think it would work.
huhm. that's food for thought.
that phrase in conjunction with failed anal is not very appetizing... i apologize.
When Clenches Go Bad.
A grim tale of ladies who work out and thier late lovers.
I'm thinkin' robed figurines the size of salt-shakers, nested and hollow like Russian dolls.
Cry, Laugh, Or Shit is the game-show pitch of the quarter.
A very dear friend of mione used to work in the morgue in Detroit.
Detroit, the city that lost its title as murder capitol ofthe world because everyone who could be killed already was.
She worked in the morgue, taking photos.
I tell ya, it doesn't take 40 years to learn those lessons.
She was never specific with the details, but she knows thinsg first hand, that no one should ever know.
Example: Rigor Mortis sets in after an hour or two...but then it wears off after about 24 hours. She was not told this. It was not in the "orientation materials" when she was hired.
She learned it because she felt and observed the differences in rigidity in different bodies.
Oh, and to complete the picture...she is really pretty and extremely talented.
So, natural deaths, like natural numbers, are measure zero in an infinite sea of irrationality. This I like.
This reminds me of something...
My father works in the refridgeration business, the company he worked for up until recently had a contract with the Co-Op Funeral Parlours. Part of his job was to fix the fridge units where they kept bodies.
The first few times unnerved him slightly as you would expect of a person who had never looked upon a dead body before or had never been particularly near to one.
One day he was giving me a lift somewhere and said he had to stop somewhere on the way to do an emergency job he had booked in (you can imagine the emergency).
Now, I didnt want to sit around ing the van for what could be 30mins to 1h, so I went inside. The polite lady at the reception desk informed me that I couldnt sit in the waiting area as it was for families who had come to pay respects to loved ones or to make arrangements so it would be best if I wasnt seen to be loitering around like some kind of morbid death-obsessed nosey parker. I was told to go through some double doors and to take a door on my right and so I did.
I entered a room full of gurneys(sp?) and metal work bentches, some with body shaped bags on top, others with bodies being prepared for families to see them and others that had just been brought in. And amongst all of this my dad standing on a ladder looking at something in the roof to do with the coolers.
My father remarked to me, "Theres some unusual ones today," me thinking he was talking about something to do with the pipes, "take a look at the lad two beds down." he said without looking at me. At this point I was more than a little disturbed but my stupid curiosity got the better of me. I looked at a young looking man a few tables from where I was to find him laying there dressed in what I can only describe as 'going out' clothes. He had a smart short sleeved shirt, smart trousers that looked like they belonged to a suit and some black leather shoes. He didnt have a mark on him, no wounds, no obvious drastic discoloration to his skin apart from the paleness you expect from death and a look of absolute peace on his face. I was informed later that he had not long come in and had not been worked on yet. I found this odd, I knew he was dead... I just wondered how. He looked as if he were in his mid-twenties.
Another body, I was told by one of the attendants in the room who was working, had come from an RTA (road traffic accident), there was obvious heavy damage that they had only just started to repair... As you might expect, this particular death didnt puzzle me at all. What did puzzle me was that the relatives of this person were having them 'fixed-up' as it were because they planned on having an open casket at the funeral it's self. The attendant present said that he thought it was a bad idea due to the extent of the damage. He explained that they could make things close to how they were before with pictures as they employ professional make-up artists and several other facial reconstruction specialists, but they would never look the same and more often than not they find usually with RTA's people prefer not to see the damage however well repaired.
I found this a rare insight into what an odd species we can be sometimes, how sensitive and particularly fragile.
That was interesting. Thanks.
Just the kind of thing I need to read while dealing with incredibly stupid and/or clueless people.
2006-06-13 01:43 am (UTC)
sorry in advance for ranting praise
if you're ever wondering why we all love you so much read this again, but in the frame of mind that you just signed on to check your friends page, wondering what so-and-so did over the weekend. and upon reading the little entry you have a perfectly twisted and disgusted image after just the first sentence, but you'll read the rest anyway.
your stories are the handicapped old man shitting himself in a public place. everyone looks. everyone gags. everyone looks again.
That would be a brilliant intro to something. I wish there was more to read.
Thank you for posting these.
most excellent. tho I'm pretty sure she couldn't resist shitting first. ; )
Great wrap-arounds and beautiful photo:
Do the wrap-arounds end in jazz shoes; ballet flats; black socks?? I can't tell.