Nights In White Satin
2003-05-02 05:39:56 ET

Nights in white satin,
Never reaching the end,
Letters I've written,
Never meaning to send.

Beauty I'd always missed
With these eyes before,
Just what the truth is
I can't say anymore.

'Cause I love you,
Yes, I love you,
Oh, how, I love you.

Gazing at people,
Some hand in hand,
Just what I'm going thru
They can understand.

Some try to tell me
Thoughts they cannot defend,
Just what you want to be
You will be in the end,

And I love you,
Yes, I love you,
Oh, how, I love you.
Oh, how, I love you.

Nights in white satin,
Never reaching the end,
Letters I've written,
Never meaning to send.

Beauty I'd always missed
With these eyes before,
Just what the truth is
I can't say anymore.

'Cause I love you,
Yes, I love you,
Oh, how, I love you.
Oh, how, I love you.

'Cause I love you,
Yes, I love you,
Oh, how, I love you.
Oh, how, I love you.

- Justin Hayward

One Bad Day at the Fried Chicken Restaurant
2003-05-02 04:26:39 ET

“Two Four Piece to go!” shouted the tired, middle aged woman at the counter. Working at KFC (that’s Kennedy Fried Chicken, in case you were wondering) was killing her. Fast food is for kids,” she always thought. Never was it in her plans to end up as a cashier at a KFC, working the dinner rush 6 nights a week.
The crew of kitchen workers behind her had it down to a science, the art of looking busy while actually holding conversations. They also knew exactly how long a certain order would take from when it was sent back to the screen to when it could be put up on the counter. Usually they added on at least 3 minutes to each order, before and after, opening bags, finding new platters, cleaning utensils, un packing napkinsa and condiments, the usual things fast food people do, or at least what the public thinks goes on in the fast food industry. It actually could be quite the racket: take people’s money, take their order, never give them their food. It’s actually surprising someone hasn’t snapped.
“This is quite a racket they’ve got going on here,” thought a man in the line. They took my money about 6 minutes ago. I don’t think they’re ever going to give me my food.” The line grew to at least a dozen and a half people and there were 20 more in line, like a line full of cows being led to the slaughter – they know something’s not right, but they stay in line, make their order and wait around. Every so often one will get their order, and that gives the people in line hope.
“Welcome to Kennedy Fried Chicken, can I help you?”
“I sure hope you can,” says Ralph from behind a sweaty brow and tear stained eyes. “I was just in the drive through, and I didn’t get my order right.”
A forced smile crosses the cashier’s face. “I’m sorry, sir, what did you order?”
“I asked for

“We’ll be right on that. I apologize for the inconvenience, would you like a free soda while you wait?”
“eh- no, that’s fine,” Ralph replied, eye twitching ever so slightly, as he joined the queue.
As Ralph waits in the line, five more people placed orders, and one person even received their order. As the line around him grew, gaining 5 people to every one it lost, he began to realize that he wasn’t getting his food anytime soon. The kitchen was bustling, as Ralph walked up to the counter again. The cashier glances at Ralph with an annoyed look from the side of her eye as she takes someone else’s order.

Glancing over his comic book, Kent, a postal worker, watches the short, stocky man screaming at the cashier. “What is this crap?” he mutters to himself, and puts the comic down. The scene was getting more interesting anyway.
“I already waited in line for 15 minutes in the drive thru, now you’re going to make me waste the rest of my lunchtime waiting here for you to fix my order that you screwed up?”
“Sir, please. Your order has first priority, and it should be ready momentarily. I can give you some chicken poppers while you’re waiting, if you’d like.”
The little business man looked frantically around the room, specifically at the now nervous people waiting in line with him. “Are you people going to stand for this?? They’re wasting our time! They think that they can just tell us anything, and we’ll give up our time and money, trusting them to give us what we want! But they’re not going to!”
This was starting to look bad, as Kent sat up at his plastic table, closing the lid on his 3 piece meal. It was just as he took a sip from his soda that the man reached into his briefcase, and pulled out a gun, and shot the cashier in the shoulder. The entire restaurant hit the floor, and those who could hit the door.

“Hit the roof” they used to say, when as a kid Ralph would have outbursts and temper flares. Well, this time he really did hit the roof. Announcing to the room, “No one leaves until I get some respect,” Ralph waved his gun toward the crowd, “And some chicken. Where’s my fucking meal?!”
A young black girl rushed from the back with a paper bag in hand, and stood as far away from Ralph as she could as she handed him his bag.
“And umm… how about some of those chicken popper things? Yeah,” returning his wild gaze to the rest of the restaurant, “Maybe this’ll teach those, those… butt-sluts not to mess with Ralph Mazzio. You hear me?!” the people in line crouched a bit lower to the floor, “I won’t be pushed around anymore!”
It was then that Ralph noticed the mailman slowly approaching him. He shook the gun violently at him.

“Hey, buddy,” Kent heard himself say, “no need to get violent. It’s only a fried chicken store.” Kent knew from Boy Scout training that the best way to deal with any situation was to keep the problem person was to keep them talking. This guy seemed pretty set on that already, so that was half the problem solved already. “Look what is it you want, buddy? Why a KFC?”
“This isn’t my choice! They just caught me on a really bad day!”
“I’m sure, I’m sure.”
“Maybe this will let them know that we all have lives, too, and we’re just as important as they are! Just cause we’re in a position to be pushed around doesn’t give them the right –”
Kent had already made it up to an arms-length away, and Ralph raised his gun quickly at Kent’s chest. “Hey, you’re a mail-man, right?” Ralph asked.
“Yeah, man, yeah I am.”
“You should understand, then! Aren’t you the guys who always come back and kill everybody??” Ralph let out a nervous laughter.
“Sometimes. But I’m not one of those kinds. Sure I could sit around all day and mutter to myself, ‘mail this, deliver that, I’ll make ‘em all pay,’ but where would that get me?”

Ralph wondered if this guy was getting to anything, or just trying to buy some time. Ralph cast a worried look around the restaurant.
“Sometimes you gotta tell them, though, that you’re not going to take it! That they can’t just tell you where to go and what to do! and that’s what I’m doing!”
“That’s not what I’m hearing, though… Ralph, was it?”
“Yeah - Ralph.”
Something caught his eye from the window – a teenage boy was trying to signal someone outside. A quck gunshot, putting a hole in the window 2 feet from the boy’s head cancelled that idea. Ralph chuckled to himself.
“Why aren’t you in school, kid? hah hah hah” turning back towards the mailman, “Kids today, huh?”
“heh. yeah, Ralph.”
“Hey, how come you know my name and don’t know who you are, Mr. Hero?”
“My name’s Kent. Ralph, what happened to you today?”
“They took my fucking view!”
Reaching with his free hand into the bucket of chicken poppers, Ralph began to stuff his face. “The office gets this new hot-shot executive today, and they need an office for him, right? Well there’s only one left. Nobody uses it… except for some little clerk no one cares about, me!” Ralph scattered the chicken pieces across the room.

Kent listened intently to Ralph’s scattered thoughts, as he watched behind Ralph, people slowly sneaking out the door to the parking lot. This situation was becoming more and more under control every second, and Kent liked the feel of that.
“Allright.” Kent said more confidently. “You know what you need? A better attitude toward work. Tell me something; why do you get up in the morning?”
“What?” Ralph lowered the gun slightly, “umm… cause I got to go to work.”
“See, that’s your problem. You need to take work less seriously. Your job should not be your reason for waking up. Enjoying the day is the first priority. Take me – I’m taking a two hour lunch today. Why? Cause I can. What if you didn’t go back to work today, Ralph? Think they’d notice?”
“Probably not, the bastards.”
“Then why bother? If you’re not necessary, then just do the minimum amount of work, then go home, kick back, have a beer and stop worrying!”

Ralph was worried about what this guy was talking about. He had a point, but why was he bothering to talk to him? Why did he care? Ralph’s hand fell limp, and the gun pointed to the floor. Kent took the extra step and put his arm on Ralph’s shoulder.
“Let it go, Ralph. Stop worrying. you’re not going to make your point this –”
A lady in the back corner shouted “The news van is here!”
“The media??” Ralph snapped to attention.

Control fading, Kent tried to pull Ralph’s attention back to him, and the care-free attitude he was preaching. “Hey, hey, buddy. Don’t worry bout those people. They won’t have a story once you decide to stop all this, and just go – ”

“Go away!” Ralph shouted at the camera people setting up outside. This whole thing was going to hell, and he didn’t like it.

“Allright, Gene,” said Nancy, the star-reporter, “frame me up right here, I’ll give the initial report, and then we’ll see what happens after…”

The gunshots from inside the restaurant cut off her thought, and pretty much drown out every other sound in the area. The windows of the KFC became spattered with blood, and people ran out of every possible exit. Among the 14 bodies found were Kent, killed where he stood, and Ralph, who shot himself in the doorway.

and in the end, the love you take is equal to the love you make.
2003-05-01 08:37:59 ET

the Coup de Grace

DeSales University
McShea Building

Monday @ 7:00pm
Wednesday@ 7:00pm

Please come out and support my film!

the carrier
2003-04-23 06:50:23 ET

the creak of the boards as Edward’s feet went from one to the next frightened him. At times even moreso than the bubling swamp and dark,impenetrable forrest that surrounded it. But the creaky wooden bridge was the only way across for him. so he started off.
The pack on his back, filled with provisions, hiking supplies such as maps, a compass, some trail mix, seemed like dead weight in this terrain. the At times he considered getting ride of it, as he knew the extra weight would surely cause one of these rotten planks to crumble. th ebridges weren’t hanging, but they did sway, and that bothered Edward the most. He left the p[ack on, though, because othe reason for all his troubles, and for this journey in the first place rest inside. iIn the pack was a piece of treasure that had the potential to bring kings to their knees. Sadly, he didn’t know quite what it was.
Such is the life of a courier. Carrying packages, delivering messages that start wards, facing perilous situation after p[erilous situation, without quite knowing the specifics. But it’s been his life for the last 8 years. This is to be his last journey before being allowed freedom to choose his own life, and Edward was determined to get it through. A railing falls off the bridge. Edward stops and readjusts his weight. A col, dry wind crosses the swamp, and something jumps out of the top of the watter only to fall back in. “I feel nothing but pity for the men who had to build this thing. And wy couldn’t they make it straight??” Edwared looks ahead at the Labryinth of bridges, suspended, embedded and barely floating, that makrs his way to the other side. You can’t actually see the other side from where he is, but you can surely hope it’s there.
“Ho-howl!” comes the sound from thetredes.
“Like a backwards ownl,” mutters Edward, as he gives a tug on hissatchel straps and takes a right at the next turn. In the distance he can see the pride of the Engineers – a wooden suspension bridge, over half a mile long, that is only accessible via a secret path Edward only wishes he knew. He tosses a rock at the bridge, but it falls short and lands in the muck. without a hiss, a puff of steam or even a Glug, the rock slowly sinks into the swamp. A shiver runs up his back.
Edward traveled on these briges, careful of where he should step, until he saw something that surprised him =- the silhouette of another person, traveling towards him. Slowing dragging his feet to a halt, he pauses on the bridge. The last thing he expected was another traveler. this would make his job a touch more difficult. Edward takes a step to the side, to let this shadowy figure pass.
“Hello?? Are you real??” the mysterious traveler called out from the fog.
“Who goes tehrer” replied Edward, sounding to sound powerful.
“I’m just a girl. my name is Marin. I’ve gotten myself lost in this swamp for several days now. Can you help me?” The fog getting thinner, Edward gets his first glimps of the stranger who’d frightened him so. She was a short girl with barely any hair. The little she had was dirty blond , made dirtier by the muck and dust of the swamp. one her gaunt frame hang what look like choir robes beaten and torn from months of wear. She stops in front of Edward, and stares him in the face. “Do you know the way through these bridges?”
“Yes, I do, but I’m afraid you can’t come with me,” he said, and turned to walk away, keeping his eyes on the ground.
“Wait, what?!” Marin yelled as he walked away, “I wander around this god-forsaken swamp for 4 days, just to find you and have you walk away?? I hope the swamp swallows you whole!!”
Edward ignores her shouts and curses, kicking himself for being to strict to his mission. “If I needed a companion, he thinks, “they would have given me one when they sent me out. “ A kind of quite hush fell over the swamp, except for the wind and the occasional creak from the boards on the bridge. But Edward wasn’t an idiot. He spun around quickly. Marin was walking 4 steps behind. “Hey! don’t you hear well? I can’t help you!”
“That doesn’t mean I can’t follow along,” she said coyly. “Where are you heading, anyway?” That package looks awfully important.”
Edward quickly turned around, and continued walking.
“Hey! Want to hear my story? Seeing as how we’re both on this road alone, I figure we might as well make the best of it…”
Edward tried not to look at her.
“I was being kept prisoner in a monastery by a bishop who tortured me because I would not give him sex on the sly. I only barely escaped when I fed the guard dog all the left over bread I’d had… with a couple bugs stuffed in there, enough to get him sick and allow me to pick the lock with a 2 pronged fork I stole back when the bishop used to give me real food… As I made my way out of the monastery I stole one of the monk’s robes, put the hood up and simply filed in line out to the garden. I filled up a basket with vegetables and fruits, and carried it out with me to do my “ministries.” It was incredibly easy. I’m kinda sorry I didn’t try it earlier. Well, of course I had to wait till I had enough bread to feed off the dog.”
Edward turned to her. “Yeah, that sounds like a likely story.”
“What?? you don’t believe me?!”
“Not quite there isn’t a monasyery in these parts for a hundred miles!”
“Don’t I know it! It’s been over a week I’ve been out of there, dodging their spies and priests. I almost got caught at an inn 2 towns back.”
“How do you know I’m not a spy?”
“Cause you’re heading the wrong way, dummy.”
“I’m sure.”

They continued on in silence for awhile, until they reached something Edward had hoped against – the bridge was blocked off. A good portion of the wooden planks ahead had rotted away, and the way was roped off. Edward tested the first section, and simply putting weight on it caused it to sink further into the swamp. Walking was just out of the question. “Well that’s just great.”
“What is it,” Marin asked.
The damn bridge is out. How did you get through, then?”
Marin shrugged and pointed out into the mist. “Hell if I know. It’s a maze, remember?”
“yeah. and the main route just collapsed on us.”
Edward just sat down for a second to collect his thoughts, and in hopes that Marin would wander off and find her own way. It’s not that he didn’t like her or was tuned off by her, but it was the simple fact that he was supposed to carry this mission out alone, and anything that was going to keep him from keeping his job was something he wanted to avoid. One last assignment and he was on his own. Nothing was going to keep him from that; especially no at an escapee-slave girl.
Sitting there, thinking, Edward looked across the endless swamp, and saw the shadow of the suspension bridge. He knew then what he had to do. Without saying a word he got up and walked towards the collapsed section of the foot-bridge. Marin simply stood and watched. reaching out, Edward grabbed two small sections and with a tug pulled them out of the swamp.
“What’re you going to do?” asked Marin.
“Get out of here. This package must be returned to it’s owner.”
“What’s in that bag of yours, anyway?”
Edward quickly turned to her, “You’d be better off not knowing. Trust me.”
Testing the swamp , Edward placed the first section off of the bridge. it floated enough, and then he tried stepping on it. it began to sink, but slowly. “Should be enough time,” he thought, and stepped out onto the platform. As it began to sink he quickly through the other piece out in front of him and stepped onto that one. Just as hastily, he pulled the first out of the muck, and dropped it in front. As he moved to the first, again, he turned to grab the last plank and watched in horror as Marin jumped onto it, causing it to sink even faster. “What are you doing?!” he cried. Smiling, she threw another platform onto the swamp.
So the two of them and their three planks slowly moved their way towards the mammoth suspension bridge, as Edward hoped in his heart that there would be no trouble there. No words were said durnign this long, slow trek across a swamp that would certainly entomb them in muck before they even knew they were in it. They both knew the desperation of this act, and had that in mind the entire time. As they neared the bridge, they were like a fine oiled machine, moving and pulling their platforms along with them at a perfect rhythm. Edward even noted to himself that it was less dangerous to have a second person, for the next step could be placed as the first person was moving.
The bridge, though, was much higher than either had expected, and when they reached nearer, Marin asked what the plan wasfor them to reach the bridge. Edward confessed that he hadn’t thought that far. In a quick move, though, Edward jumped onto one of the upringhts and inched his way up toward the bridge, as Marin kept jumping from platform to platform to keep from sinking.
“What about me?!” Marin shouted.
Edward was very agile and strong for his age, and quickly climbed the bridge, and was on the top. Looking down he heard Marin cry for help, as the platforms were sinking underneath her.
“Hey! Where are you! Drop something down! Help me!”
Edward stood and heard this, and stared at the wires that keep the bridge suspended above the swamp. The wails continued, but then suddenly stopped.
That was too much for him. From his backpack, Edward produced a knife, and cut down one of the wires, causing the bridge to shake a little, and he dropped it over the edge, and waited. When he felt the tug on the other end, he released his breath a little, and began to pull the cord back up.
Once she was with him on the bridge, the two looked at each other for a moment. “Thanks,” she said matter-of-factly.
“Umm, don’t worry about it, “Edward replied, “… now, what we’re going to have to worry about it soldiers. This is the lord’s private bridge, and – ”
“And he don’t take kindly to trespassers,” said a loud voice behind him, “especially those that destroy his property.”
“Ah crap,” said Edward.

2003-04-23 06:42:06 ET

well the first two months were perpetual bliss.
we talk and fuck and hug and kiss
loved all the same movies
hated all the same bands
hell, I didn't even mind you were a vegetarian.

- Adam Brodsky

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