Post by drknss on Feb 15, 2008 8:39:08 GMT -5
Dear Diary,
I still haven’t won. Not that I care. Not all victories occur between those ropes. Many occur between the sheets. And for that, I have a huge victory. He fell for me. I hooked him, and reeled him in, though it was not as difficult as I would have thought. I never thought I would be pulling in the serpent of Midgard, but the ease at which he bent to my whim was astounding. His resistance was minimal, and his desire strong, and like a little puppy to kick, he is mine.
I will nurture him, with the most sour of milk. I will pleasure him with pain. I will hold him with disdain. From now on, he is mine, and mine alone. I will be his judge and jury, and I sentence him to be my executioner. For my beck and call, he will be mine to end the happy existence of one Kat Hamilton.
Why do I hate you so Kat? I have felt the cold and bitter embrace of rejection before, but yours stings the most. And at SuperBrawl, I have no delusions. Our title will go home with the Axis. But that doesn’t mean it will be you. If you think I will stand by, and watch you walk out with that title, you would be sorely mistaken. I may not even let you walk out of there at all.
Compound fractures are terrible things.
And then the other girls in the match. Maybe I can get some little measure of revenge by smashing stupid little ninja girl's face into the ring post. Of course, I don't think it would hurt her chances with that lost love of hers. See, if the chick had any feelings for our ninja, she would already be used to the idea of dating a slackjawed cross-eyed beast of a woman. Hopefully her secret love is Emily Starr, the only chick in this division as ugly as her. And Candi Starlight, the boring whore. Please try to remember in this match that laying on your back is not the way to get ahead. I know, its gotten you pretty far, probably even how you convinced your uncle to start training you.
Which brings me to the Phoenix, Vanessa McGurk. Oh Vanessa loves her little world, with her precious snot nosed brat, and her syphilitic ballsack of a husband. The man who runs this circus, the man who has buried this company like the corpse it is. But who would ever expect a biker and some wanna be hippie of having a sense of responsibility. Maybe thats why our gates are
low, and our ratings are down. Maybe instead of playing grabass like a couple of intellectually- disabled high schoolers, you could hit our books and realize your newest arrivals haven't been booked right since they came here.
But that would make sense, wouldn't it?
I close you today diary, on this note. My experience at SuperBrawl may not be the greatest my career will ever see, but I will make sure these fans know one thing. Chicks can be JUST as brutal as dicks.[/i]
******
The bus. The greatest invention in the history of mankind. Well, at least for us members of mankind who are deemed unfit to have a driver's lisence. So I ran over my ex-boyfriend's dog. WHile it was in his living room. So what?
The usual hodgepod of societies rejects sit idling in their seats. Their zombified eyes stare forward past all the jizz, blood and booze stains littering the bus. And they stare, mindless creatures. Some too junked up to know where they are, some so pathetic they don't care.
All except one. I notice him, sitting in his nicely pressed suit, sipping on his cup from Starbucks. I can see the pasty, flakey scalpprotruding from underneath of his black hair. He is so busy and focused, staring down at his laptop, pounding away so loud that he actually can drown out the moaning bum sitting next to me.
I leave my seat, and walk towards him. The vibration of the bus runs up my leg, it does a girl good.
He has a look of terror and fright as I plop beside him. I can understand, seeing how I dress, and how he dresses. He's probably never seen someone wear a corset in public before.
Me: Whatcha doin'?
I lay my sweet voice on thick.
Man: I am sorry, do I know you?
Me: DO you?
He ponders it for a moment.
Man: I don't...
Me: I'm going to be a celebrity you know?
He stares at me, puzzled, and confounded. He looks ahead, praying his stop is next. The panic, the fear... I love it!
Me: I'm going to be on Pay-Per-View! Not porno though, that will be next month.
"Will this woman leave me alone?", I imagine as the thought going through his head.
Me: See, I am going to SuperBrawl. You might have seen the billboards, and I am going to wrestle a bunch of nasty skanks, and tear their flesh from their bones.
I think he's hyperventilating now. But this is my shining moment. I lean up close to his ear, so close that I can smell the endorphines in his body firing rapidly a purse my lips, as I drop my voice lower.
Me: I am sure you like that... don't you. A bunch of girls, being brutal, viscious nasty. Let me tell you something daddy, I'm the nastiest freak of them all!
It worked better than intended. He jumps up pulling the stop cable. The bus slows to a stop, and before the doors can even open all the way, he is gone. I hang my head out the window.
Me: But Mister. I wanted you to spill my virgin blood.
My giddy titter must arouse the suspicions of many on the street, who shoot me looks like I had a third eye sticking out of my head.
I reach my feet again, and move back to my origional seat. Sorry sir, this is a freaks only zone.
I still haven’t won. Not that I care. Not all victories occur between those ropes. Many occur between the sheets. And for that, I have a huge victory. He fell for me. I hooked him, and reeled him in, though it was not as difficult as I would have thought. I never thought I would be pulling in the serpent of Midgard, but the ease at which he bent to my whim was astounding. His resistance was minimal, and his desire strong, and like a little puppy to kick, he is mine.
I will nurture him, with the most sour of milk. I will pleasure him with pain. I will hold him with disdain. From now on, he is mine, and mine alone. I will be his judge and jury, and I sentence him to be my executioner. For my beck and call, he will be mine to end the happy existence of one Kat Hamilton.
Why do I hate you so Kat? I have felt the cold and bitter embrace of rejection before, but yours stings the most. And at SuperBrawl, I have no delusions. Our title will go home with the Axis. But that doesn’t mean it will be you. If you think I will stand by, and watch you walk out with that title, you would be sorely mistaken. I may not even let you walk out of there at all.
Compound fractures are terrible things.
And then the other girls in the match. Maybe I can get some little measure of revenge by smashing stupid little ninja girl's face into the ring post. Of course, I don't think it would hurt her chances with that lost love of hers. See, if the chick had any feelings for our ninja, she would already be used to the idea of dating a slackjawed cross-eyed beast of a woman. Hopefully her secret love is Emily Starr, the only chick in this division as ugly as her. And Candi Starlight, the boring whore. Please try to remember in this match that laying on your back is not the way to get ahead. I know, its gotten you pretty far, probably even how you convinced your uncle to start training you.
Which brings me to the Phoenix, Vanessa McGurk. Oh Vanessa loves her little world, with her precious snot nosed brat, and her syphilitic ballsack of a husband. The man who runs this circus, the man who has buried this company like the corpse it is. But who would ever expect a biker and some wanna be hippie of having a sense of responsibility. Maybe thats why our gates are
low, and our ratings are down. Maybe instead of playing grabass like a couple of intellectually- disabled high schoolers, you could hit our books and realize your newest arrivals haven't been booked right since they came here.
But that would make sense, wouldn't it?
I close you today diary, on this note. My experience at SuperBrawl may not be the greatest my career will ever see, but I will make sure these fans know one thing. Chicks can be JUST as brutal as dicks.[/i]
******
The bus. The greatest invention in the history of mankind. Well, at least for us members of mankind who are deemed unfit to have a driver's lisence. So I ran over my ex-boyfriend's dog. WHile it was in his living room. So what?
The usual hodgepod of societies rejects sit idling in their seats. Their zombified eyes stare forward past all the jizz, blood and booze stains littering the bus. And they stare, mindless creatures. Some too junked up to know where they are, some so pathetic they don't care.
All except one. I notice him, sitting in his nicely pressed suit, sipping on his cup from Starbucks. I can see the pasty, flakey scalpprotruding from underneath of his black hair. He is so busy and focused, staring down at his laptop, pounding away so loud that he actually can drown out the moaning bum sitting next to me.
I leave my seat, and walk towards him. The vibration of the bus runs up my leg, it does a girl good.
He has a look of terror and fright as I plop beside him. I can understand, seeing how I dress, and how he dresses. He's probably never seen someone wear a corset in public before.
Me: Whatcha doin'?
I lay my sweet voice on thick.
Man: I am sorry, do I know you?
Me: DO you?
He ponders it for a moment.
Man: I don't...
Me: I'm going to be a celebrity you know?
He stares at me, puzzled, and confounded. He looks ahead, praying his stop is next. The panic, the fear... I love it!
Me: I'm going to be on Pay-Per-View! Not porno though, that will be next month.
"Will this woman leave me alone?", I imagine as the thought going through his head.
Me: See, I am going to SuperBrawl. You might have seen the billboards, and I am going to wrestle a bunch of nasty skanks, and tear their flesh from their bones.
I think he's hyperventilating now. But this is my shining moment. I lean up close to his ear, so close that I can smell the endorphines in his body firing rapidly a purse my lips, as I drop my voice lower.
Me: I am sure you like that... don't you. A bunch of girls, being brutal, viscious nasty. Let me tell you something daddy, I'm the nastiest freak of them all!
It worked better than intended. He jumps up pulling the stop cable. The bus slows to a stop, and before the doors can even open all the way, he is gone. I hang my head out the window.
Me: But Mister. I wanted you to spill my virgin blood.
My giddy titter must arouse the suspicions of many on the street, who shoot me looks like I had a third eye sticking out of my head.
I reach my feet again, and move back to my origional seat. Sorry sir, this is a freaks only zone.
