Jun 021998
 

Title: Through The Plexiglass
Fandom: N/A
Characters: N/A
Rating: G-
Warnings: Crack. Fruitsalad.
Notes: Ars(e) Poetica #14. May/June 1998. 14-17 are numbered but not dated. By the content and numbers, I can place them approximately, but I make no claims to the accuracy of the dates. I know it is after May 14th, when Frank Sinatra died; it's after Bonny Mad Charlie went missing — I have his parents names written in pencil a page or two before #14… And I can tell by the pen that 14-17 were all written on the same day. I'm calling it June 2. If you know me wrong, let me know.

This was written while I was having lunch in a pancake house that has long since been bulldozed to make way for a pharmacy. Line 8 is a reference to "Dogs Don't Go Moo," a story I'll tell later, when I start telling the Mythic History of the Wasteland.
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Mar 031998
 

Title: Life is Bigger…
Fandom: N/A
Characters: N/A
Rating: T
Warnings: Envy. Abuse.
Notes: Ars(e) Poetica :: March 3, 1998. Yeah, so, I said something about 'my fault', in the last note. I wasn't kidding. The swishy Queen Bitch, over here, has had a thing for damsels in distress, and occasionally kicks over into ass-kicking knight in shining armour mode. Tits and chocolate frosting will no longer cause me to extract you from your shitty relationship, beat up your boyfriend, and then buy you breakfast.
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Mar 031998
 

Title: Isolati
Fandom: N/A
Characters: N/A
Rating: T
Warnings: Death. Wangst.
Notes: Ars(e) Poetica #11 :: March 3, 1998. I hate this one. A lot. I was going through some shit with the wife, at the time, and well… I was a fucking mess. I was watching her come apart, and there was nothing I knew how to do about it. In the end, I was a fag, at heart, and she was a lesbian. It ended really poorly, later that year, as these things do. Also, I would like to publicly state that it was my fault, and I'm a dick, just in case you like me and were thinking of blaming her or the circumstances. We're still good friends. I'm still in love with her.
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Mar 031998
 

Title: The Jade Marie
Fandom: N/A
Characters: N/A
Rating: M
Warnings: Implicit underage prostitution
Notes: Ars(e) Poetica #13 :: March 3, 1998. I don't even know what to say about this… It's not about one person, it's about an entire chain, one after another… they never saw that they were worth anything more than flesh paid.
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Mar 021998
 

Title: Ad Nauseum
Fandom: N/A
Characters: N/A
Rating: G-
Warnings: Totally fake contrition, fag wants to drown a girl in the toilet.
Notes: Ars(e) Poetica #10 :: March 3, 1998. The Thespian President's girlfriend pissed me off. A lot. Mostly because I was horrifically envious, and she was a constant reminder that he was straight. A couple months after this, he told me he'd been dating her because SHE REMINDED HIM OF ME, but less scary. Then, I really wanted to drown her in the toilet. Possibly twice, just for good measure. Yes, yes, you can call me Queen Bitch, if you must. (Bonus points to anyone who understands why there's a Clive Barker reference in this one.)
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Mar 021998
 

Title: Madonna of the Loft
Fandom: N/A
Characters: N/A
Rating: G-
Warnings: Teen wangst
Notes: Ars(e) Poetica, #8. March 2, 1998. I was listening to a lot of Robyn Hitchcock, at a guess, and at this point in time, I was pretty sure I wouldn't make it into college, and I had no idea what I was going to do with my life. It was one of those few moments in life, when all illusions of immortality and importance were stripped away. (And bonus points to anyone who knows why Robyn Hitchcock is at all relevant, here.)
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Feb 271998
 

Title: Entreaty
Fandom: N/A
Characters: N/A
Rating: G-
Warnings: Self-sporking
Notes: Ars(e) Poetica, #6. February 27, 1998. It's a joke. A taunt. A not so gentle fork in the face, mostly directed at myself. This was when I decided I was going to publish a book of shitty sonnets, and stick this on the back cover.
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Feb 271998
 

Title: Eden for a Letter
Fandom: N/A
Characters: N/A
Rating: G-
Warnings: So shallow, I don't even splash.
Notes: Ars(e) Poetica, #5. February 27, 1998. The Thespian president cut his hair, and I know I wasn't the only one horrified by it. However, it was for a part — it was for the art — so we couldn't hold it against him.

Eleven years later? Yeah, still that shallow. Even bald, I'd have done him, though, if he swung that way. Can't say no to beauty and talent.
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