"I Can't Breathe."

I am at a loss for words.

Normally I can't hold back from ranting about things. Especially like this. Especially like now.

I don't know what to say. Every time I try to speak, I just can't.

"I can't breathe."

"Atticus--" said Jemm bleakly. He turned in the doorway.

"What, son?"
"How could they do it? How could they?"
"I don't know but they did it. They've done it before and they did it tonight and they'll do it again and when they do it--seems that only children weep."

- Harper Lee, "To Kill a Mockingbird"

(Photo belongs to "Humans of New York")

10 reasons I asked if there was another way out of Barnes & Noble

Today, while I was at Barnes and Noble with my friend Kid, I met an author. His name is "Cousin Vinny." At least, that's what he chooses to go by. He was trying very hard to get me to buy his $27 book (paperback, mind you).

He apparently used to be a Soap Opera star, now turned Christian ("I have some spirituality in me") author. He spent 20 minutes raving about how wonderful his book ("The Devil's Glove") was (read: He was raving about how wonderful HE was). He told me that this book would "change your life" and is the best book for "preventing suicide."

He bragged about how he had "NEVER had a bad review" and then proceeded to hand me all of his reviews (in small time Christian newspapers and local papers), they were laminated mind you. Not only were they laminated, but he had apparently memorized each one. He handed me a review and proceeded to recite the whole article, verbatim.

He told me that there was literally no other book with that plot anywhere (spoiler: Its about baseball and Satan). When I mentioned that it was somewhat similar to "The Screwtape Letters" by C.S. Lewis, he swiftly denied it. "Those are two demons fighting over a human. This is ANGELS and demons fighting over a human. God and Satan battling for his soul." (I'm paraphrasing only a little there, this is how the guy talked)

He told me that the writing was the best I'd ever seen and that this would be my favorite book, ever. I sampled the writing while I was standing there... Let's just say it was nothing to write home about. He wrote like he spoke. Not very well.

I am saddened to say that a Pastor reviewed it as being a blend of "Paradise Lost, the Bible and Field of Dreams." Which is very disheartening for Milton and the Bible. To be compared to this is, well, its not a nice compliment in my opinion.

He emphasized that he was a "messenger" (the God part was implied) and when I asked why he didn't go by his real name (Louis Anthony Agnello Jr) he said it was his publisher's idea. It would be easier to "remember."

I told him that "Cousin Vinny" reminded me of Joe Pesci.
He said "Exactly!"
I said "I don't like Joe Pesci."
Taken aback, he said "You don't?"
I said "No. Joe Pesci does not endear me to your book."
To which he laughed, half-quoting me in disbelief.

Also, this guy has no concept of the term "personal space." (His breath isn't so great either) He kept touching me, as if I were an old friend, not a complete STRANGER. I'm not public property, get your paws off.

After I escaped him (it took about 20 minutes, mind you) I literally asked an employee if there was another way out of the store besides the front door because I didn't want to walk past him again. The employee was seriously taken aback and informed me that there was not. But also said that if I warn the front desk that I'm going make a run for it they won't think I'm stealing.

So now, I have a mission. Somewhat. I'm going to read this book, if only to write a terrible review of it. It seems only fitting that I do so, seeing as how I've reviewed the author. You're welcome, "Cousin Vinny," for the "first" bad review you've received.

The following is an open letter to "Cousin Vinny" recounting the experience.

Dear Louis Anthony "Cousin Vinny" Agnello (or "10 reasons I asked if there was another way out of Barnes & Noble"),

1. I am not public property able to be touched because I'm in your space. Just because we are inhabiting the same area does not make me less than human or give you the right to just touch when you feel like it. Did I give you permission?

2. Bragging about your Stripping days in the same breath as you're bragging about how wonderful your book is does not make me want to read it. Especially when you keep saying you are a "messenger" (the "from God" being implied by your "I have some spirituality in me" comments).

3. You don't even KNOW ME, so how can you "guarantee" that YOUR book is going to be my "favorite book?"

4. You're trying really hard to get me to buy your book, but I feel like you're really just trying to explain to me why your penis is the biggest the world has ever seen. And I'm sorry, but I'm just not buying it.

5. Memorizing your laminated accolades doesn't make you seem cool, it makes you seem pathetic.

6. I am half tempted to read your book simply to give it a bad review. Seriously, you tell me how the writing is "the best" and that your story is "the most original" (fun fact: You're not original) and that the copies you are trying to hock are going to be "collector's items" because you are leaving that particular publisher, but I read a sample while I listened to you ramble and your writing style is similar to a 13 year old's. Seriously, I've seen better writing styles in Children's books. You write like you talk. Not very well.

7. You're visiting small towns in the Bible belt, of course this book is going to "sell like hot cakes."

8. Don't talk to me like I'm an idiot. You play like you're the "Devil" just for a scenario, but you're in my face telling me I'm worthless. The difference, as I told you, is that I KNOW I'm NOT worthless. My worth is more than reading your book though. Seriously, how could you possibly think that would make me want to read it? Pretending that you are the Devil and that this book is going to save me from Suicide and save my soul... Dude, you don't even know my Soul!

9. "The Devil's Glove" is a terrible name. It sounds worse than cliched. And trust me, I've read some pretty cliched books. (Usually in the genre you are in)

10. "Are you big readers?" Nope. I walked into Barnes & Noble because I like the scenery. Never read a book in my life.

I could go on and on, really. This was the worst meeting with an author I've ever had. And I didn't want to meet you in the first place! Thanks for telling me all about your schedule though, because I now know to avoid B&N until Friday when you leave for St. Louis.

Sincerely,
Sarai.

Post Script: Don't laugh at me because I said "Joe Pesci does not endear me to your book." I was being quite serious. Going by his character name really doesn't make you more likable.

Stuck in the Caverns of my Head

A sad tale, to be sure, I am currently being plagued by a severe case of writer's block and depression. No, I don't know why I'm depressed, I just am. I've been thinking a lot lately and I think I just think too much.

I feel like such a disappoint me sometimes. I've tried so hard to accomplish something, something to make my parents proud, make my grandparents proud, hell, make ME proud. I have yet to feel like I've done that. Though my mother and my step-father tell me all the time how proud they are of me.

One of the few things I don't like about my recent conversion to Islam is not showing my hair. I kind of miss doing cute things with my hair where people other than my husband can see it. I know wearing hijab isn't required to be a practicing Muslim, but I kind of enjoy wearing it. I feel more secure in it, even though I miss showing my hair.

I am surprised by how passionate I've become about Islam. I have always had a deeper desire to learn about it. A deeper desire to explore. I just didn't realize how much I would love my experiences with it. Even the bad ones. They have made me something more than I was. And I am okay with that. I feel like in some ways I have become better. In other ways I know I still need growing and maturing. Its a funny thing discovering that you are never as mature as you think you are. I still have so much growing up to do, in spite of all the growing I thought I had already done.

I have been thinking about guns, wars, hates and gods. I've been thinking about this world with all the people in it, all the beautiful things we could learn, and we still can't love each other. It hurts. I'm not sure why, but it does.

I have been dreaming about death and sadness. I wonder if it is an omen of things to come or a representation of my current surroundings.

A prevailing thought is that I have to be brave in the face of what I don't know. I have to keeping going forward because I am so close to something, even though I don't know what it is. I am standing on a precipice and all I hear is "I'm not going to fall, I can't."

And in the midst of all this, I hear Josh Groban singing "Brave." And I know those lyrics fit me somehow, but my puzzle is incomplete.

Being Thankful

This is my attempt to not bring everyone down with me.

So I'll make this short and sweet. Or as sweet as possible.

Even though Christmas is one of the worst depictions of Christian hypocrisy and I've long given up on it, today was better than most and for that I'm grateful.

I have many things to be grateful for, though sometimes its hard to remember that.

Two years ago, I was trapped in the hotel for Christmas. A half hour away from my family, away from home. My lower half mangled from that horrific car accident. My wonderful grandmother-in-law, who has stood by my side from the beginning, helped me out for Christmas Eve. She and Donnie helped me, in my wheel chair to her house, only for a couple hours. But it was so worth all the pain and discomfort.

I suppose, when she asked me what the best Christmas present I ever received was, I should've said that moment. When I thought I was going to have to miss Christmas too. When I had already been stuck there since Halloween (and before that two weeks in the hospital). When I was already beginning to lose faith that I would ever get to walk again or go home.

I can walk now. I can drive. I have a job, that I sometimes hate. I even had two jobs. I have recovered farther than anyone thought I would.

And yes, I can't have children because my pelvis won't support a pregnancy.

And yes, I still have nightmares.

And yes, I've never been back to that cemetery.

And yes, I'm being sued by the guy that hit me.

But, I can walk. I can drive. I am still alive. And even when I begin to doubt that I would want to be, I am happy to be alive.

So, this Christmas, if you are feeling down for what reason or another think of this:

You can walk, you are alive. You have a roof, a bed, the internet (or you wouldn't be reading this), food to eat, etc.

You have things to be happy about, even when you think you don't.

This coming from someone who is always down this time of year. This coming from someone who detests the holidays for the memories they bring.

I am thankful.

Thanksgiving will never be the same again.

Facebook is a strange place. However there is a fun thing that I just decided to do at random and the resulting conversation occurred.

It's THANKSGIVING time!!! How Dysfunctional is YOUR Dinner???
Go to your profile and put in the first 10 people on the left...NO CHEATING!!! (I cheated :P I knew who it was going to be when I went looking for it!)

Forgot the Turkey: Brooke T.
Burns the Dressing: Jennifer H.
Drops the Potato Salad: Megan M.
Eats all the Pecan Pie before Anybody Else gets Any: Melissa H.
Spills Red Wine All Over Your White Tablecloth: Cassie C.
Brings a "Surprise Guest" Nobody was Expecting: Kyle M.
Gets Mad & Leaves in the Middle of Dinner: Fawny
Starts Crying Over Something Silly: Samantha B.
Forgets to Show Up at All: Saira J.

Comments:

Fawn: YEAH! FUCK THANKSGIVING! ROFLMMFAO!

Pom Pomme Pomegranate: To be fair I think any thanksgiving is going to be strange with Sarai and Fawn! LOL

Brooke T: I don't think I'd forget the turkey, I think I would just bring a ham instead... lol

Fawn: Bringing pork products to the table is what makes me get angry and leave! ;)

Pomme: lol

Me: There we are. We've figured out a coherent story for this.

Pomme: ‎:P umm I am posting what you all just said on my status.

Me: Nice, Pomme, nice~

Brooke: now we just need to figure out how to bring unicorns into this and it'll be the perfect dysfunctional thanksgiving

Me: Agreed. Um, Joe N. is the surprise guest, even though Kyle M. has no clue who he is and by his awesomeness Joe has unicorns. Problem solved.

Fawn: No... Japanese boys pretending to be girls, pretending to be boys, pretending to be girls, riding those unicorns, and it would be a PERFECT Thanksgiving, I'd be thankful for that... 1 wish, and Aoi in front of me, what's more perfect than that?

Me: Oh my.... That's why you get mad too. Unicorns no longer grant wishes...

Pomme: O_O now I am scared...

Fawn: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! Aw well, fuck the wish, and fuck Aoi... right on the Thanksgiving table... <.< ... >.>

Pomme: there there Fawny~ (before she realizes what Fawn just said...) OMO~ I DIDN'T NEED TO SEE THAT!

Me: Oh my... I think Thanksgiving is canceled.

Fawn: ROFLMMFAO!!!!!

Pomme: Well we are having thanksgiving we are just not letting Aoi come~~

Me: THAT WAS AWFUL WORDING ON YOUR PART!!! (BTW, Brooke, I'm sorry lol)

Pomme: OMG~ SERIOUSLY I DIDN'T MEAN IT THAT WAY! *dies*

Fawn: ROFLMMFAO!!!! OH MY GOD I'M DYING OF LAUGHTER, AND MY GAMING PARTY IS WONDERING WHAT'S WRONG WITH ME!!!!

Me: Her and her transvestite barbarian.

Brooke: the whole time I read this conversation, I thought: HAPPY THANKSGIVING! XD

Fawn: DAMN STRAIGHT! My transvestite barbarian is sexy.

Me: Thanksgiving will never be the same again.

Pomme: OMO~ *Dies* Yes to some it is a very happy thanksgiving~ LOL NEVER~~ I don't even know how I am going to eat with my family now. lol

Fawn: Err... guys... Aoi and I kind of ruined the food... anyone in the mood for takeout?

Me: Why, Fawn, why?!

Pomme: O_O ya know... I think I am no longer hungry..... *Cries self to sleep*

Fawn: *dies of laughter* Oh that was fun. Until next year.

Pomme: LOL OH thanksgiving will never be forgotten. LOL My moms are some crazy people~

Brooke: good God PLEASE don't ruin my Christmas

Pomme: LOL!!!!! I am with Brooke!

Fawn: Oh an encore at Christmas sounds devine...

Pomme: PRAY FOR SNOW!!!! SO THEY CAN BE SNOWED IN!!!!

Brooke: but not with us... lol

Fawn: Snow makes for a chilly Christmas orgy...

Pomme: LOL THAT IS TRUE!!! NEVERMIND NO SNOW!! I don't want them snowed in with us! LOL

Fawn: Saga will see it, he will tell Ruki, and Ruki will tell Aoi... and I will get emails rofl!!!

Brooke: never again will I be able to have an innocent Christmas dinner at my grandmother's

Fawn: Grandma is not invited to my orgy damn it... that would just be weird...

Pomme: I don't want to be there either you guys are my mothers!!!! *cries* AND OMO I wish I would have known he would see this!!! No one involve the damn Tiger! OKAY!

Brooke: Hmm....I'm afraid if I go to sleep now then I'll have some jacked-up nightmares

Pomme: Brooke I am scared too~

Fawn: Honey if Saga sees it, Tora will hear about it lol.

Pomme: Great if they ever meet us they are going to think we are all fucked up~ Thanks Fawn!

Fawn: You're welcome. ^______^V

Pomme: YOu love us so much~~ I can tell

Fawn: I do, hence I invited you to the orgy, what kind of parent would I be if I hadn't? :D

Pomme: ‎*head on desk*

March of the Stripper Clowns

Welcome to your fucked up childhood revisited and even more twisted!
Welcome to March of the Stripper Clowns. For those of you who are afraid of clowns, you may want to avert your eyes and cower in fear. Partially because these are half-naked people with, often, scary clown make-up. Just for you!

Why, you may ask? Why would I inflict you all with these fiendish monstrosities? Because my brother and Phil were talking about them at random and I am a blog whore. Yep, that's right. I love blogging and when I need material someone always gives it to me. *insert sex joke here*

Of course, the major questions are:
* How much do they charge per hour? Are the balloon animals free?

* How many come in a carload? Are we talking mini-cooper or VW bug?

* Does the wig come off as well during the strip tease?

* Do they dye their pubes to match their crazy wigs/hair?

* Are these regular circus clowns? (More will fit in the car if they are)

Well, enough questions, let's get to the pictures! Are you ready?

Ladies and Gentlemen, I am the ringleader of Lunacy. Want to join my circus?


How about this? Is this better?



No?



Or this, maybe?



Well now that your childhood (and nightmares) have been destroyed (or fueled, depending on who you are), that is all for now.

Seriously though, Clown Strippers are fun!

5 Things I find Oddly Frightening

As the title suggests the following are things that for, some strange reason, frighten me. I don't know why I feel like writing this, but I was thinking about odd things that just freak me out. So here it is:

1. The bathroom at the McDonald's. You know those horror movies where the hero walks into a room that has stark lighting and there is the low hum of machinery in the background? Yeah, that's how this one particular McDonald's bathroom is lit. Also, when I walked in all the doors to the stalls were slightly ajar and a little off, making it even more creepy. The whole time I was expecting something to jump out and drag me off.

2. Dreams where the rooms are darkly lit and have objects you wouldn't normally expect to find in them. For example, I had a dream the other night that there was a secret room at my job. The room was dim and stacked upon themselves were these potty training chairs for little kids. And I don't know why! I'm not afraid of using the bathroom, the dark or even children, but it scared the crap out of me. No lies! In my dream I wanted out of there as fast as possible!

3. Running away from people. Well, you'd expect this to be a normal fear, but it isn't. When I was younger I had a friend named Annie. One day, while hanging out at Annie's house, she convinced me that she was a vampire (I was seven, okay) and chased me all over her house. Her house was big and there was a lot of unknown stuff that scared me about it to begin with, but her chasing me made it even worse. I was literally scared of her. I'm still scared when people chase me, even if it is just play. There is something about it that frightens me. It kicks into gear that fight or flight response and I run like I have no choice. Which leads to asthma attacks.

4. Men. Especially men I find attractive. I have been treated rather poorly by the male gender for a good portion of my existence. I've been used, abused and what have you. They not only make me incredibly nervous, but sometimes I'm flat out scared of them. I never purposefully choose to be alone with a man, unless I've known him for a decent chunk of time. Even then, I'm still wary. I've had 3 boyfriends. One of them doesn't even count because I was 10. My second did the most damage. Now I'm with Donnie. And I was scared of him when we met, aside from finding him rude. The problem is, when I'm attracted to a man, I feel even more vulnerable and therefore, more afraid. When I am vulnerable what could he do to me? I'm not a very strong person, I'm also not fast. I feel trapped sometimes, depending on the man.

5. Worms. Not going to lie, but when I was younger I could handle hooking worms for fishing, but now I can't touch one without freaking out. Part of this is because of an incident where I had a panic attack at church involving worms. A guy friend of mine, John, put worms on me while I wasn't looking and freaked me out. I screamed and ran off crying. I was already having a manic/depressive day that day and that sent me right over. I spent the better part of the rest of the service in the bathroom trying to gain some composure, telling myself that I'm not actually afraid of worms. Just when they touch me... Anyway, I haven't hooked my one worms for fishing since.

Moments

These are moments I'll remember (and some I'll cherish) forever. I'm trying to savor all of these moments. I'm trying to live like I am dying. Enjoy everything, do everything. No more hesitating!

Breaking into a disco dance session at the stop light with Kid and L.E.D.

Coming up with reasons why the bunny stopped right in the middle of the road so that L.E.D almost hit it. (The bunny lost its bunny job and its wife left, so it had nothing left to live for; its life long dream was to be bunny stew; and it was emo)

Slow dancing with Donnie, in our bedroom, to a song that isn't even romantic.

Talking with Rick, from work, and L.E.D for an hour and half in front of a restaurant on the square.

Standing in front of the Lincoln Memorial for the first time and realizing just how small I really am.

Drooling over Gackt with Donnie.

Feeling pretty for the first time in a long time.

Singing "Good Morning" from "Singing in the Rain" at work, even though it wasn't morning anymore.

Riding in the car on a beautiful day with Kid, where we don't talk but just enjoy the beauty of nature.

Finally getting my GED.

Putting the wrong zip code for my address on the love letter I mailed to Donnie.

Joking about going to the "gangbang" while completely lost with Phil, my brother and Eric.

My sister saying "I'm a sucker for penis" in front of my mother on Mother's Day. The look on my mom's face was also quite priceless.

Meeting my best internet friend in real life.

Realizing that I am who I am and I want to be that person.

The look on Donnie's face when "Judas" by Lady Gaga came on.

Going to the movies with my friends.

Walking to work on a beautiful day, Starbucks Frappuccino in hand, and the complete feeling of contentment.

Making my favorite waiter literally run away from my table because I embarrassed the hell out of him, again.

Being the bigger person in an argument with a willfully ignorant person.

Re-discovering Mark Twain.

Buttering my face after losing my bet with Donnie.

Finally sending that letter to Barack Obama that I've always wanted to send. And realizing that he will NEVER actually read it!

Sending random cards to the people I love, the people I don't know and the people I admire.

Listening to the same part of "Nothing Else Matters" by Apocalyptica over and over and over as loudly as I can. Also, rocking out on the air cello!

Writing my Bucket List.

Several beautiful, unique and out of the blue weddings.

Getting story ideas from some weird and messed up nightmares.

L.E.D and Kid rolling me down the parking lot while I was trashed.

Getting trapped on the tire swing (in my beautiful dress) at L.E.D's graduation party because my feet couldn't touch the ground.

L.E.D, Kid and I all sitting on the swings, even though Kid was in the baby one!

L.E.D's graduation.

Sipping Eggnog Chai with Fawn.

Getting hit on by a random guy in a white SUV with my soon to be sister-in-law.

Discovering that May is Zombie Appreciation Month.

The talking red hamster!

Illuminati (Illuminated)

Harlequin dances about the floor, surrendering to Demons
and Angels, silhouettes and innocent shadows. She stands,
mythical and poetic, spinning her dreams out like darkened
spider webs. Caught by her own vanishing nightmares.

Violent and gentle, she spins and twirls, the ribbons flying
up and fluttering to the floor. Above her the sky seems to
burn, the horizon is downcast and she is tied to this hideous
form. Circled by Hell's vicious dogs.

Silky are the voices that call her inside, bluer than the moon
outside the painted glass. They tease her, push and pull her
down. Violet sunlight floods the circle that divides Heaven from
her Hell, tied to the knives spinning round.

Lacy snow falls in the midst of summer's tears. Pink and Ivory
against the erratic world flowing into her. She studies the
imperfections of a rose, standing before the Court of the moon
and her lovers. Dulcimers play at the edge of her sanity.

Fiery kiss upon her cursed lips, a virescent larkspur to
resurrect her. Now fanged, she lets the blood flow, the
honeyed lies and sweet brokenness take control. Her womb
is bleeding, rape the soul. Shatter the glass, make it whole.

Adorned in bloody rubies, glittering in the darkness of the sun.
She stands, new born. Two has become one, Harlequin no
more. Let the walls that have imprisoned her vanish as she
rises to shine. Illuminated by her own silver tongue.

Beloved

Toni Morrison



Toni Morrison is an author and editor. Her works include "Beloved", "The Bluest Eye" and "Song of Solomon". She has written seventeen books (including two for children), a play and a libretto.



Some Interesting Facts
* Her real name is Chloe Anthony Wofford.

* She was the first African-American to win a Nobel Prize for Literature.

* She earned a Masters degree of Arts in English from Cornell University in 1955.

* "Beloved" is based on the true life story of Margaret Garner, a young slave woman who murdered one of her children to protect it from a life of slavery.

* She also wrote a libretto (or opera) for Margaret Garner with the music composed by Richard Danielpour.

* Once described Bill Clinton as "our first black president".

Some Quotes from Toni Morrison
- "Like any artist without an art form, she became dangerous."

- "Love is never any better than the lover."

- "Definitions belong to the definers, not the defined."

- "What difference do it make if the thing you scared of is real or not?"

- "A dream is just a nightmare with lipstick."

- "You wanna fly, you got to give up the shit that weighs you down."

A Scene from "Margaret Garner", the Libretto

J-Rock Wizard of Oz (Chapter Two)

Current mood: Chipper

Chapter Two: “Sarai, I Don’t Think We’re in Japan Anymore.”


Outside of the door were very beautiful and tall statues of very androgynous people, so very androgynous that the pair had a very hard time figuring out if they were girl statues or boy statues. Beside these statues were tall, gaudy, flowers that spat sparkles into the air every time one of them tried to pick one. Slightly frightened, Pomme turned to her friend and said,


"Sarai, I don't think we're in Japan anymore."


Sarai calmly replied, "No shit, Sherlock! Does this look like Japan to you?!"


"No, I was trying to be Dorothy. You know, from the Wizard of Oz? I was making the line 'We aren't in Kansas anymore, Toto' fit our situation."


"Oh. Well, you are doing a crappy job, your hair isn't in braids and you aren't wearing the right outfit. I mean you don't even have a dog!"


"Yes I do! You’re my Toto!" Pomme ducked as Sarai swung at her and giggled hysterically as she ran toward a flower vomiting sparkles all over the place.


"So," said Pomme. "Where do you think we are Toto?"


"I am NOT your fucking Toto! And I have no clue."


All the sudden, the girls heard a trio of giggles coming from the sparkle spewing flowers. Pomme looked at Sarai and Sarai looked at Pomme.


"Are flowers that throw up sparkles supposed to giggle in threes?" asked Pomme.


"I don't know." replied Sarai, shrugging her shoulders.


"Why don't you go and check?" asked Pomme, coming up behind Sarai and shoving her towards the giggling vegetation.


"Scaredy cat," muttered Sarai, finding a stick and stretching to poke at one of the flowers. When she did this, a tiny person popped up from behind the flowers and smiled really big.


"Hi! I'm Yomi! And I'm a Munchkin! I'm a happy Munchkin!" It said. "You killed the Wicked Bitch of the East!"


"Okay, dude," said Sarai. "We didn't kill anyone and you can't prove it!"


"Yes I can!" replied the little person that called itself Yomi. "Come on, I will show you."


Coming out from behind the flowers, Yomi took Sarai's hand, as she was closest to its size, and took her over to where the abandoned house had landed. Peeking out just under the really crappy white trim was a pair of feet with nine inch electric blue heels on its feet.


"Well, crap. You said Wicked Bitch of the East? So that's a good thing right? Do we get a parade and cookies or something?" asked Pomme, edging closer to Sarai and Yomi.


"Actually, you must be sacrificed because the Wicked Bitch of the East was our leader. Get them boys!" just as he shouted that two other munchkins came up and grabbed Sarai and Pomme, dragging them over to some wooden poles surrounded by loads of firewood.


"Did you notice these when we first got out of the Crazy House?" whispered Pomme to Sarai.


"No. Pretty sure those weren't there before."


The Munchkins then proceeded to tie Pomme and Sarai to the wooden poles and begin to light the wood for the fire. The one that called itself Yomi smiled the biggest as the other two lit the kindling. As he smiled Sarai noticed that he had three huge fangs pointing out of his cute little mouth. One on the left of his front teeth, one on the right and one directly in-between his two front teeth. What had been an adorably androgynous munchkin had suddenly turned into one scary creature.


"Did you notice the fangs when that Munchkin first started talking to us?" asked Sarai.


"Fangs? What fangs?!" replied Pomme, panicking slightly.


"Oh, you didn't notice. Never mind."


Just then a hot pink bubble appeared and out stepped a man not much taller than the munchkins. This man was different than the Munchkins though, because on his back you could tell he had tried to sew fairy wings, it was an obviously failed attempt. This man had bright pink hair, big yellow shoes and an electric green suit, with purple fairy wings sewn haphazardly on the back. Pulling out a beautiful guitar, the man played a chord, that the munchkins apparently couldn't stand, that put out the fire and chased away the evil little midgets. It also untied the girls and made all the sacrifice equipment disappear.


Pulling out a cigarette, the man casually leaned against one of the statues and made his guitar disappear.


"Thanks a lot, mister." said the girls, in stereo.


"How did you get to this land?" asked the man, pulling a drag off of his cigarette and running a hand through his hair.


"Well, there was this really bad storm where we're from and somehow we got transported here. Have you ever seen The Wizard of Oz? Yeah, that's kind of how it happened." replied Pomme.

For a moment, the man just stared at her, and then started laughing. "Well, you did me a favor. I've been trying to get rid of that stupid bitch for YEARS! Never knew that I had to drop a house on her ass to get rid of her. So, I owe you one favor. I can tell you how to get back to where you are from, I can teach you to play a magical guitar or I can give you some candy. Your choice."


Pomme began to speak, but Sarai cut her off, saying, "Well, first I think we'd like to know your name, before we start asking favors."


"My name is hide. That is he-day, and it is spelled like hide with a lower case h. Capitalize that H and we are going to have issues. What about your names?"


"Well, I'm Pomegranate, but you can call me Pomme and this is Toto. I mean, Sarai. I totally meant Sarai." Pomme began to giggle and Sarai shot her the look of death when hide looked at Sarai's forehead.


"So, Sarai, it was Sarai? Why do you have a dick tattoo on your head?"

"Dick tattoo?" asked Sarai. Her hand went up to her forehead and came back with the marker that Pomme had used to draw the dick. She looked at Pomme and growled, "You drew a Dick on my forehead?! We could've died and you are drawing penises on my forehead! I'm going to kill you!"


Lunging at Pomme, Sarai tripped and fell to the ground, which was the perfect angle for her to see the shoes the Wicked Bitch had been wearing before she bit the big one.


"Hey, hide, what about the shoes? I mean, they have to have some magic right?"


"Well, yeah they have magic. This is the world of J-Rock."


"J-Rock, what's that?" asked Pomme. Now it was hide's turn to give a dirty look, cringing Pomme hid behind Toto, I mean Sarai. She hid behind Sarai.


"You don't know about J-Rock? Why, this is the land of J-Rock from where you stand to the Pink Star City far to the West. Have you never heard of the forest of Guitars? Or the fields of Androgyny?"


"Um, going to have to say no on that one." replied Pomme. "But I would love to learn more about you and this place. I'm a big fan of androgyny."