Fun Stuff > CHATTER
To beat or not to beat
Slick:
I often wonder what made me choose this kind of work. Surely it's not the hours. The 'perks' involve being shot at, never knowing if it's safe to turn the ignition in your car, and sleeping with a loaded gun beneath your pillow. And let me tell you, walking in on scenes like this is something you never get used to. Someone wanted to send a message and they couldn't of picked a prettier courier. Shame she won't be dancing anymore.
Slick:
The first snow of the year came just in time to cover the tracks to this murder, but that's OK. I'll find the punk that shanked this dame, and I'll make him fess up to why he did it. Then I'll find the bastard that's been taunting me with dead bodies, and I'll kill him or bring him in. Depends how many bullets I have left by the time I catch him.
Slick:
JOHN DANGER - PRIVATE INVESTIGATOR
Inlander:
Those afternoons, those lazy afternoons, when I used to sit, or lied down, on Desolation Peak, sometimes on the alpine grass, hundreds of miles of snowcovered rock all around, looming Mount Hozomeen on my north, vast snowy Jack to the south, the encharmed picture of the lake below to the west and the snowy hump of Mt. Baker beyond, and to the east the rilled and ridged monstrosities humping to the Cascade Ridge, and after that first time suddenly realizing "It's me that's changed and done all this and come and gone and complained and hurt and joyed and yelled, not the Void" and so that every time I thought of the void I'd be looking at Mt. Hozomeen (because chair and bed and meadowgrass faced north) until I realized "Hozomeen is the Void - at least Hozomeen means the void to my eyes" - Stark naked rock, pinnacles and thousand feet high protruding from hunch-muscles another thousand feet high protruding from immense timbered shoulders, and the green pointy-fir snake of my own (Starvation) ridge wriggling to it, to its awful vaulty blue smokebody rock, and the "clouds of hope" lazing in Canada beyond with their tittlefaces and parallel lumps and sneers and grins and lamby blanks and puffs of snout and mews of crack saying "Hoi! hoil earth!" - the very top tittermost peak abominables of Hozomeen made of black rock and only when storms blow I don't see them and all they do is return tooth for tooth to storm an imperturbable surl for cloudburst mist - Hozomeen that does not crack like cabin rigging in the winds, that when seen from upsidedown (when I'd do my headstand in the yard) is just a hanging bubble in the illimitable ocean of space -
Hozomeen, Hozomeen, most beautiful mountain I ever seen, like a tiger sometimes with stripes, sunwashed rills and shadow crags wriggling lines in the Bright Daylight, vertical furrows and bumps and Boo! crevasses, boom, sheer magnificent Prudential mountain, nobody's even heard of it, and it's only 8,000 feet high, but what a horror when I first saw that void the first night of my staying on Desolation peak waking up from deep fogs of 20 hours to a starlit night suddenly loomed by Hozomeen with his two sharp points, right in my window black - the Void, every time I'd think of the Void I'd see Hozomeen and understand - Over 70 days I had to stare at it.
0bsessions:
--- Quote from: Slick on 20 Oct 2008, 15:57 ---JOHN DANGER - PRIVATE INVESTIGATOR
--- End quote ---
She walked into my office on a brisk autumn evening on legs that could kill. I stroked my full, glorious bear and lit up a cigarette as she gave me her sob story. This city's got a million of 'em. I get to the bottom of them, that's my job.
SAM KNIGHT - PRIVATE INVESTIGATOR
Also, I was pretty sure this was going to be a thread about masturbation. Color me disappointed. The blog thread's a few clicks south, folks.
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