Welcome to Paradise

ziminthehall7@aol.com — Tue, 15 Apr 2008 06:01:19 GMT

I honestly didn't think I'd ever here from her again. After 8 months she finally sends a message back to me addressing the one I had sent her.

I don't know what to do. Try to mend a broken friendship? Start over? Go separate ways like we have been? I treat my friends well; I treat them real well. And they treat me well in turn. But with her - I did everything I could to help her whenever she needed it; I was there always. I didn't expect her to be some outstanding friend, I just wanted her to be a friend. She was never there. She never followed through with what she said she would do. She's gotten into drinking, hangs out with god knows who - probably some always semi-wasted and not a real positive influence group of people.

I forced myself not to make contact with her because I always was the one who would do it; I wanted to see if she would message/call me. She didn't. And now here she is - 8 god damn months later. What do you do? I don't want to sound completely bitter and bitchy if I write back to her because I'm not. I'm just disappointed and hurt and distrustful of her now.

Fuck. Why after all this time?!

ziminthehall7@aol.com — Sun, 30 Mar 2008 03:39:41 GMT

Haven't posted much lately at all, but thought I'd share some lulz now.
For capsolocksweeney again:

I had Pirelli in mind when I did this one:

It makes me want to cry

ziminthehall7@aol.com — Wed, 12 Mar 2008 15:55:24 GMT

"I honestly think it's the biggest threat our nation has, even more so than terrorism or Islam." - Rep. Sally Kern of OK

Other statements she said:

"The homosexual agenda is destroying this nation."
"No society that has totally embraced homosexuality has lasted for more than, you know, a few decades."
"What's happening now is they're going after, in schools, two-year-olds."

How can people think like that? I just can't believe it. It's horrible.

Last month in California, a 15-year-old boy, Lawrence King, who suffered taunting and bullying by his classmates because of his sexual orientation, was killed by one of those classmates – a 14-year-old boy. The week after Lawrence King's death saw the murder of another teen, this time a 17-year-old transgender youth in Fort Lauderdale, Florida.

This country is full of shit. At least it's people are. No wonder people hate Americans in other countries; they don't tolerate anyone who's different than their pious religious selves. America goes fucking gallavanting over to other places to conform them to democracy and equality, but it doesn't even exist in fucking America.

I'm tired of this shit.

Gearing up for Spring's wrath

ziminthehall7@aol.com — Mon, 25 Feb 2008 23:06:16 GMT

Everyone's complaining how they're sick of the cold and all that, but frankly, I want it to stay wintery for as long as possible. Want to know why?
Well, let's have a look here at past Kansas springs and the monsters it brings and then you'll see why I'm always a bit scared for my life and home when spring rolls around...

May 1957 Spring Hill

Feb. 28, 2007 cut through two counties

1990 Hesston

Couldn't find a date and specific location for this one

April 26, 1991 Wichita/Andover

Rice county

May 2007 Greensburg

The condition of Greensburg after

Yeah. It sucks being in 'tornado alley.'

ziminthehall7@aol.com — Mon, 11 Feb 2008 01:47:22 GMT

I posted it a little while ago, but I thought you kids round here may think it funny as well. More fun at capslocksweeney

Blatantly taken from "A Night at the Roxbury"

Another ST fic

ziminthehall7@aol.com — Sun, 10 Feb 2008 06:49:39 GMT

Written because I lost a bet with industrialdoom (curse you!!!) So here's my pay up.

Title: Insanity
Rating: NC-17
Characters/Pairings: Todd/Anthony, Anthony/Johanna
Warnings: Rape, violence/blood/sadism
Disclaimer: I don't own ST - no part of it whatsoever. I make no profit. All belongs to Sondheim and others.
Summary: A knock would have served him well.

****
After bursting through the door, Anthony instantly wished he had not. Something horribly wrong had happened, and though he was thankful he had not seen the event, he was utterly terrified by the quiet, pale man he had rescued at sea who stood stoically by the chair. There had been an oddity about the barber – a certain madness – he had recognized ever since the ship had docked in the London harbor. As he stared wide-eyed at Sweeney Todd, that madness was all he could see.

Todd had completely snapped.

Blood was everywhere – soaking the barber’s shirt, face, hair, and the slanted window behind him. The silver razor he grasped at his side dripped with red liquid, and it turned with the barber to face the young sailor like a welcoming gesture to dare Anthony forward. Todd’s black eyes were fraught with malevolence, rage, and a frightening insanity. The shocking gaze made Anthony unable to move, no matter how loudly his mind demanded him to run.

“M-Mr. Todd,” he sputtered in a tiny voice.
A devilish smirk upturned the edges of Sweeney’s mouth. “It’s best to knock, Anthony. You always seem to arrive at the most….inappropriate times.”
“What have you done?”
Todd started toward the younger male, who was still unable to force motion into his legs. “Just a shave,” he said casually, his eyes flashing with Hell’s fire. He placed the flat surface of the blade beneath Anthony’s chin to lift his head. “Perhaps I should give you one. Can’t have you running off now, can I?”
Anthony’s breathing had accelerated immensely, and his heart pounded more rapidly as a chilling thought suddenly came to him. “Wh-Who was it, Mr. Todd?”
“Someone who shouldn’t have believed what another told them.”
The words struck him like the knife that was near his throat. “You didn’t,” he whispered in disbelief. His eyes flickered to the large trunk to his left, and the glance did not go unnoticed.

Todd narrowed his eyelids in suspicion before he crept toward the chest. The sailor shifted to a spot near the barber’s chair in hopes of looking into the box, praying that what he had left had gone untouched. Leisurely, Sweeney lifted the lid and rested it back against the wall. His expression was impassive as he studied the fearful occupant. The angelic eyes stared up at him nervously, dilating somewhat from the sight of blood all over him. Todd cast an irate look at Anthony before he grabbed hold of the young girl’s arm, hoisting her up and out of the trunk. She emitted a small, scared whimper as his strong hand pulled her to the door.

“Get out,” Sweeney growled dangerously and opened the entrance. He pushed her onto the balcony and hissed, “Go below to the pie shop,” before he slammed the door shut.

For a brief moment, Johanna stayed where she was, paralyzed by dread. However, a threatening glare from the possessed barber quickly sent her racing down the stairs.

Anthony felt a wave of relief from knowing Johanna was safe, yet the coldness painted on the older man’s features conveyed that he may not be so lucky. Todd’s sanity was completely gone.

“Mr. Todd-”

The lad was silenced by a powerful strike to his face. He stumbled backward, lost his footing, and fell to the floor. A soft groan escaped his parted lips, and he touched his fingers to the blood that was beginning to leak from his nose. Another blow made him lose focus. His head spun, making him almost oblivious to the gruff hands removing his coat. Sweeney hoisted the dazed sailor to his feet and lugged him to the chair. He sat Anthony down on it, took off the lad’s scarf, and brushed the light brown hair to one side. Firmly, he grasped the young man’s chin and bent down by the side of the chair to gaze at him directly. The sharp edge of his reddened friend rested lightly on Anthony’s cheek, making the lad wince.

“It seems we have a problem,” Sweeney said in a low, ominous tone as he trailed the knife down to the sailor’s jaw-line before putting it to the other side of his countenance.
“I won’t say a word, Mr. Todd,” Anthony voiced tremulously. “I swear. I won’t tell.”
“I’m afraid I find that hard to believe; you’re too much of an honest man. And I can’t let you take Johanna away from me. Not again.”

The statements confused Anthony greatly, but he did not have a chance to question Todd’s attachment to the girl, for he cried out as the blade made a deep laceration from his cheekbone to just beneath his jaw. Red liquid rose from the wound and trickled downward. He trembled and closed his eyes as the silver made little cuts in various places on his visage. All that he could focus on and hear was his heavy breathing mixed with the quiet, quickening respirations from the barber.

The weapon went away as Sweeney moved behind the chair. He returned the razor to the pouch on his belt before clutching the top of the lad’s shirt. Strongly, he tore the garment open entirely, causing Anthony to squirm slightly under the older male’s hands. Panic was consuming him as the gloved palms slid up and down his exposed torso. The feeling of soft hair against his face made him open his eyes to discover Todd’s countenance right beside his. The barber was grinning wickedly.

“I have no doubt you would make a good batch,” Todd said in almost a whisper. “But I’ve finished with that. When we’re done here, you will leave Johanna or I will be compelled to kill you.”

A warm, wet tongue licked the slash on Anthony’s cheek, and he shook from the unwanted sensation. There was an indistinct noise of satisfaction that came from Todd as he savored the substance of life from the lad’s visage. Indeed, he was still quite aroused from the thrilling rush that had overwhelmed him when he slaughtered the judge just seconds before Anthony had entered; he tingled with the need of fulfillment.

Swiftly, he moved in front of Anthony and hauled him from the chair only to throw him to the floor. The sailor collided with a weak grunt. He raised his head, wiped his eyes, and realized Sweeney had his back to him as the barber rummaged about for something. Without a thought, he sprung from the ground and made for the door. Sweeney whipped around and tackled him to the floor mere feet away from the desired destination. Anthony struggled wildly as the crazed man fought to keep him pinned down. After a minute his fist was able to make contact with the side of Todd’s skull, knocking the barber off of him. Hurriedly, he started to crawl away, but stopped seconds later and yelled in pain as something pierced his leg. Todd sunk the screwdriver into the back of Anthony’s lower calf, twisting it slightly to produce another cry of agony from the young male’s throat. Blood gushed from the wound and was fast to soak the dark fabric of the sailor’s trousers. Leaving the instrument buried in the flesh, Sweeney took hold of Anthony’s ankle and dragged him backward.

Anthony’s vision was clouded, but he could clearly discern the large tool that the barber now wielded. A choked sound came from him as he attempted to contemplate what it was possibly going to be used for. A crushing grip kept his left leg secured to the ground. He was breathing raggedly from his immense terror; suddenly, he could not breathe at all. The jagged, sharp saw commenced a path into his skin just above his foot. A scream ripped itself from his vocal chords, and he tried to thrash about in order to break free. The harsh object traveled back and forth, slicing his flesh open to create a deep gash. When a sufficient amount of blood pooled underneath him, the saw proceeded to his other leg to do the same.

“Won’t be going anywhere, will you, lad?” Todd asked mockingly.

He chucked the tool aside, rolled the young male onto his stomach, and eradicated the screwdriver from the sailor’s throbbing limb. Anthony moaned and seemed unaware of his shirt being taken off of him. He was motionless, not having the energy or the tolerance for the pain that would come from attempting to escape again. A quivering whimper emitted itself from his opened mouth as Sweeney began carving his back. The barber used it as his personal canvas, demonstrating his perfected skill with a knife by engraving a myriad of artistic shapes in the smooth skin with his glistening friend.

Apparently, his lust for bloodshed was more demanding than he thought. The sight before him was exceedingly stimulating.

“Mr. Todd,” Anthony whispered pleadingly.
Sweeney lowered himself atop the bleeding form and breathed into the lad’s ear, “Forget my name. Forget my face.”

The razor went to its protected case before Sweeney undid his belt and tossed it away. His vest was discarded, and the suspender straps fell to his sides; fingers flew through the task of unbuttoning his trousers. He stripped Anthony of his protecting garment, pulled down his own, and lifted the sailor’s hips.

Anthony let out a wail as Todd forced himself into his body. Tears formed in his eyes at the agonizing sensation of the hard member delving deeper into him. Sweeney tilted his head back, taking a moment to regain some composure from the incredible pleasure that was brought on by being sheathed within someone else. The ripples that went through the young man under him made him quake in ecstasy. He withdrew from the tense orifice, pausing briefly before thrusting aggressively into the slim frame once more. Anthony cried out as the intruder stretched his tender muscles beyond anything he had ever known. Pitifully, he begged for the older man to stop, yet his words went unheard. Sweeney propelled himself vigorously in and out of the aching body, expelling a low grunt with practically every thrust. It had been an unbelievably long time since he had indulged in the rapturous elation of another’s being. As he gazed at the bleeding injuries on the younger man’s back and reminded himself of the image of the judge’s slit throat, he shook and moaned in bliss.

Sweat mixed with the red stains on his face, and he panted as he violently impaled Anthony again and again with his now leaking erection. The sailor wept from the tormenting violation, wondering how Todd could do this since he had saved the barber’s life; though he knew the man’s mind was far from sane at the moment.

After a number of minutes, Todd went rigid and emitted a throaty groan as he climaxed inside of Anthony. A strangled whine came from the younger male; his stomach lurched at the foreign feeling within him due to the result of Todd’s orgasm. When Sweeney pulled out of him and let go of him, he collapsed to the floor. He remained utterly motionless.

The barber stood, buttoned his trousers, and shrugged on his vest. He breathed heavily and stared at the battered heap on the ground with mixed emotions in his eyes. There was a hint of regret in them, yet it was shielded well by tremendous anger. The black orbs ventured to gaze at the tainted saw, looking at it hungrily, which made his fingers twitch. He took a step toward it, but a shrill scream from below stopped him from going any further. Hurriedly, he kicked Anthony to lie on his back and locked his eyes with the sailor’s.

“Forget me,” he spoke quietly. “Forget her.”

It was the last thing Anthony ever heard him say before Todd darted out the door, running down to Mrs. Lovett.

Never again would Anthony see the once calm man he had rescued from the ocean, and he could not have been more grateful.

ziminthehall7@aol.com — Thu, 07 Feb 2008 06:03:02 GMT

I haven't been getting much sleep these past couple of nights, but it's all good in my neighborhood. Even though I've gotten less hours, I've been sleeping quite well once I do go to bed. Sadly, I don't think I'm dreaming.....:D

I feel good lately. I don't know why. And I'm loving my music classes even more. Too bad I can't just take those instead of things like stupid composition. And I've got to start working out for the P.E. credit. Blah. Once I go once, I'm sure it won't be as difficult to go again and get into a routine. It's just actually starting that's the problem...

I think it's been a week since I've written on one of my fics. My brain was just burning up; I had to give it a rest. Maybe it was just too much sadism going on - it was forgetting how to be "good." But! Hopefully I'll be able to start up again because damn it, I will finish "Translation" by May!

ziminthehall7@aol.com — Mon, 04 Feb 2008 21:42:02 GMT

WHY AM I LIKE THIS?! GOD DAMN!

"You have to be in the box before you can get out of the box." - Steve
"You can't milk a bald eagle." - Ben
"Majinor" - just say it out loud. Sounds naughty.

"Lean a little bit closer, see

ziminthehall7@aol.com — Mon, 04 Feb 2008 03:28:13 GMT

Roses really smell like poooo. Yeah, roses really smell like pooo.
Crazy bitch."

That's pretty much me right now - a crazy bitch. I don't think I'll be getting to sleep anytime soon seeing as how people are partying down the hall from the stupid Super Bowl. Four more months with these people and I'll be free. And then maybe my momma won't be so depressed since her "empty nest" will be occupied again with me for the summer. I'm worried about her.

Oh and hey: you want good music to shut up and drive to? Sweeney Todd soundtrack. Crank that organ up.

More ST lulz

ziminthehall7@aol.com — Fri, 01 Feb 2008 05:05:07 GMT

These are fun! I want to see if I can start doing it with POTC screencaps...

More ST fic

ziminthehall7@aol.com — Thu, 31 Jan 2008 04:43:44 GMT

Though, it isn't porn. ;) More of an interaction between Todd and Toby and razors.

Title: Curiosity
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Todd, Toby, mentions of Lovett, razors
Warnings: bit of threatening a little boy with a razor :)
Disclaimer: I don't own it, blah blah blah. I make no profit.
Summary: “It’s not nice to touch something that doesn’t belong to you without asking."

****
He never liked treading up the stairs; he avoided it at all costs if he could. The only reason he would venture willingly to Mr. Todd’s shop was if Mrs. Lovett asked him to. The barber unsettled him drastically. He had never seen the man smile; the only time he had was when Todd had told him he could have some gin. Even then, it was not much of one.

Quite frankly, Mr. Todd was a bit frightening to Toby.

The boy jogged up the stairs and peered through the glass of the door to make sure he would not interrupt if Todd had a customer. No one was in the chair, and no one was in the area that he could see.

He grasped the doorknob and entered as he called, “Mr. Todd? Mrs. Lovett needs you.”

His eyes scanned the entire room. The pale man was not there. It would be a lie to say he was not relieved to be greeted by an empty shop. Such a discovery assured him that he would not have to return later; Mrs. Lovett would surely be venturing up here herself as she usually did in the evenings.

Now that the barber was absent, the space did not seem so forbidding. He took several steps forward as he surveyed the walls and the few pieces of furniture in the room. The little bit of sunlight that broke through the clouds outside trickled in through the window, brightening the chair and the area around it.

No, it was not so bad or scary to be there at that moment.

A dazzling glint near the intact mirror caught his attention. He strolled to the table that had the barber’s supplies and picture frames on it to find the source. It came from the razors confined in the opened, wood container that protected them. One of them was gone, and he knew it was most likely strapped to Mr. Todd’s waist; he had never seen Todd without one, whether it be in his hand or tucked away in the small pouch on his belt. Lightly, the boy ran his fingers over the objects at peace. Curiosity got the better of him, and he removed a razor from its resting place.

The detail was stunning on the silver handle, and it shined brilliantly when he held it out to catch a ray of light. He smiled and turned around to have his back to the window, shielding the instrument in his grasp from the sun. Extraordinarily carefully, he flipped up the blade, hearing a distant, vibrating ring that came from it. It was amazingly beautiful and unbelievably spotless. Not even a fingerprint graced its sleek blade or handle. They were Mr. Todd’s most beloved possessions, and they showed just how much he valued and cared for them by being so flawless. He put the flat part of the knife against his palm and rubbed his thumb over it. It was so immaculate that he could clearly see his reflection in it.

“What are you doing?”

The deep voice made him jump, and the extremely sharp edge sliced his hand before he lost his grip completely, causing the object to fall to the floor. He swallowed and a sense of fear overcame him as Mr. Todd simply stood stoically in the doorway. The black hair of the barber was its usually disheveled self, yet the expression he bore on his countenance was harsher than what it normally was. His eyes were blazing with anger, and his posture was wholly agitated. When he started to walk at an incredibly slow pace toward the boy, Toby shook imperceptibly.

“‘What are you doing?’ I said,” Sweeney repeated ominously.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Todd. I meant no harm, sir,” Toby frantically answered. “I didn’t mean-”
“Let me see your hand.”

The boy instantly presented it. A decent amount of blood rose from the cut. Sweeney snatched the cloth hanging from his belt and shoved it against Toby’s palm as he stated firmly, “Hold it there and sit down.”

The lad immediately obeyed, plopping himself into the barber’s chair. The temperamental man picked up the fallen razor and gazed at it affectionately. He retrieved a white cloth that lay near his wife’s photo and wiped the blade on the fabric strongly.

“Sir, I thought you-”
“Sit. Don’t talk,” Sweeney commanded threateningly.

His dark eyes studied the glistening silver for a moment before pushing down the knife and resting it lovingly back into its slot among the others. He fetched the metal tea pot from the corner of the room, went to the chair, and knelt on one knee before the boy. The water was a little warm, but it would do.

“Hold it out,” the man ordered.

Toby clutched the bloodied cloth he had in his left hand as he extended the wounded right one for Todd, who clenched the boy’s slim wrist tightly. A decent amount of the clear liquid cascaded onto the laceration as Sweeney tipped the kettle. Toby gasped at the cleansing contact; he had not realized how much the slash stung until then.

The barber set the pot aside and pressed the fabric he had used to clean his razor with onto the wet skin to soak up the water.

“It’s not nice to touch something that doesn’t belong to you without asking,” Todd said, irritated. “Especially something so valuable.”
“I know. It was wrong of me,” Toby voiced tremulously. “I’m sorry, sir.”
“It won’t happen again, will it?”
“No, sir. I promise.”

Sweeney wrapped the long cloth he had initially given the boy around the hand and tied it tightly. He lifted his eyes to meet Toby’s and stared at him warningly. Toby was entirely terrified. The feeling increased when Todd got to his feet and moved behind the chair. A powerful hand pushed on his chest from above to make him sit back completely. It remained there, holding him in place, as the barber leaned down to his level to gaze directly at him. He let out a tiny yelp as Sweeney put the blade of one of his razors to his throat. The man’s expression was sinister, and a mischievous grin played across his lips.

“This is the only way you will ever touch one of these again,” he stated gently, though there was a tinge of fury to his tone. He ran the blunt part of the blade up the lad’s neck and tilted his chin upward with it. “What made you touch them in the first place?”
“I just wanted to see what was causing a glare and to see them up close. I wasn’t going to take it, I promise.”
Todd’s left eyelid twitched as he said, “Good boy. I certainly hope you wouldn’t take it.”

He pulled away, returned his friend to his belt, and turned around to face the mirror. Toby dared not move until he was told. He did not have to wait long.

“Best go and check if Mrs. Lovett needs your help,” the barber voiced softly. “About time to start preparing for the dinner rush, isn’t it?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Well then, hurry up.”

Toby sprang from the chair and glanced at Todd to confirm that he was indeed allowed to leave. The man’s head was bowed as he fiddled with the lather brush, making the boy utterly thankful that he did not have to look into Sweeney’s fiery eyes again. Quickly, he bolted out the door, not even bothering to shut it behind him.

The next time Mrs. Lovett would ask him to give Mr. Todd a message, he would form some excuse to not have to. Another idea suddenly popped into his head, one that would not require him to lie. As he entered the pie shop, his decision was made.

He would tell Mrs. Lovett everything he felt about Sweeney since coming into her care – how there was something very wrong about Mr. Todd, how he was immensely afraid to be near the barber, and that the man was surely hiding something and could not be trusted completely.

Tomorrow, he would do it; he was simply too frightened from what had just occurred in the shop to even speak at all for the remainder of the day.

ST full of naughty laughs

ziminthehall7@aol.com — Tue, 29 Jan 2008 22:11:00 GMT

I found a new comm. where they often tack on ridiculously hilarious crap onto screencaps of Sweeney Todd. So, here's the ones I've done so far:

More ST porn

ziminthehall7@aol.com — Sun, 27 Jan 2008 00:26:50 GMT

Yup. The idea for this came when I was lying awake in the dorm at like 2 in the morning. It's not supposed to be anything special. XD

Title: More Than A Dinner Guest
Rating: NC-17
Characters/Pairings: Anthony/Sweeney
Warnings: m/m, rape/dub con, alcohol
Disclaimer: I don't own ST, the musical, any of that. I make no profit.
Summary: Anthony was sincerely grateful that Todd would not remember a thing.

****
The man had been drinking alcohol the entire evening, so it was no surprise to Anthony when Mr. Todd finally passed out completely.

The boy had found a nice couple that had opened their home to him, providing him lodgings until he was to take off in the coming weeks. They even allowed him to invite a guest to dinner one night when he asked for their approval; now, he regretted asking at all as he slung the barber’s left arm across his shoulders and placed his own around the man’s slim waist to carry him up the stairs. Todd would sleep in his bed tonight because he knew he would never be able to haul the temperamental male several blocks in the cold to return him to Mrs. Lovett’s pie shop.

Sweeney had been practically silent ever since he had stepped foot through the door when Anthony brought him to the house. His scowl had seemed to be permanently painted onto his face; whenever he stole glances at the young husband and wife and their friends, his dark eyes were fraught with contempt. At one point, Anthony swore that the barber’s expression had faltered to one of grief. Even if it had, it certainly did not last but a second.

Todd had downed glass after glass of liquor, and it caught up with him and knocked him out after he, Anthony, the couple and a few of their acquaintances retired to the parlor for a bit of chit-chat. The lad was utterly embarrassed by the barber’s behavior. The instant Todd crashed to the floor, he hurriedly said, “I’ll put him to bed.”

The man was incredibly heavy as he dragged him up the stairs by his side. He entered the room he had been permitted to reside in, shutting the door behind him with his foot, and took Sweeney to the rather luxurious bed. A life as a sailor did not give him such great possessions, and he loved that he had the opportunity to indulge in them at the time being.

He laid Sweeney face down on the mattress, lifted the slender legs and situated them so the barber lied vertically, and sat by the man’s feet. With a gentle hand, he grasped Todd’s left calf and removed the dirty boot and stocking from his foot; he repeated the action with the other leg. The shoes and the two black articles of clothing were set on the floor and out of the way.

A heavy sigh came from Todd, prompting the lad to kneel on the ground to gaze directly at the pale face.

“Mr. Todd?” he questioned.
Nothing.

He stroked the black hair that obscured Sweeney’s countenance for a minute before tucking the locks behind his ear. There was no doubting the older man’s beauty; he had noticed it immediately when Todd had been brought aboard the Bounty. The barber’s drastic mood swings prevented Anthony from acting on his urges, however. He dared not disclose the desire that was flourishing within him, afraid of exactly how Sweeney would take it. The man was strong, always guarded, and could become rigid with anger at the drop of a dime; but now that he lay before Anthony, completely unresponsive and deliciously vulnerable, the younger male grappled desperately with his overwhelming yearning to touch the pallid flesh.

Todd grunted faintly, and Anthony’s rationality lost to his primitive needs.

Cautiously, he climbed on top of the former prisoner and sat lightly on Sweeney’s thighs. Hesitation overcame him, yet his hand reached out to rest against the male’s back nevertheless. He trailed it downward to Todd’s waist, paused for a moment, and moved it upward to his shoulder. An indistinct noise expelled itself from Sweeney, and he remained thoroughly immobile. Anthony’s eyes widened in delight. He inched his palm down to the raised curve of Todd’s round backside and rubbed over it a few times. The barber’s visage showed no signs of knowing that he was being touched.

Anthony shifted off of him and rolled the limp body onto its dorsal side. The almost colorless lips were parted, begging to be tasted. There was a bit of reluctance before the younger man kissed the barber heatedly. It did not stun him that the mouth did not work with his.

He pulled back after a period and surveyed the thin being. Sweeney’s arms rested inches away from his sides, and his head was slightly tilted to the right.

It was simply too tempting not to.

Anthony’s fingers shook as he unbuttoned the vest. He eased Todd’s arms out of it and dropped it to the floor. Next, he lowered the suspender straps from the man’s shoulders. The long scarf that was wrapped loosely around the pasty neck came undone easily, and the boy held it to his cheek for a moment to feel the warmth Todd had given it before letting it join the vest by the bed. So close, he was. All that hindered him from viewing Sweeney’s nude torso was a line of small buttons from neck to navel.

The sailor glanced away as a wave of guilt flooded over him. It was wrong to be taking advantage of the intoxicated male, and he knew it. Nevertheless, a low noise that sounded in Sweeney’s throat made his attention re-focus on the impending task.

It took him several minutes to unbutton the shirt due to his quaking hands. Todd’s expression never changed, and it surprised Anthony at how tranquil he looked. There was no resentment etched in the flawless features, making him appear quite different than what he was usually like; the lad preferred this much more than the loathing that always seemed to be present on Sweeney’s countenance.

When he parted the fabric, Anthony’s eyes dilated in amazement. At last, he was gazing at the forbidden flesh. There were scars that adorned the pale chest and abdomen that attested to the harsh imprisonment Todd had escaped from. And they were beautiful in Anthony’s eyes. He traced his fingers over the long, jagged cut that went diagonally from just inches above the older man’s right nipple to his left side merely below his waist. The skin flinched from the contact, and Todd exhaled a deep breath. He arched upward into the touch for a brief moment almost as if he were stretching, making the boy cease to breathe for a second.

I shouldn’t be doing this. I should not be doing this.

Anthony did not listen to his conscience. Instead, he bowed his head and placed gentle kisses along the healed laceration. Sweeney’s fingers curled ever so slightly, and he groaned as his head fell to the left. He started to mumble incoherently and very quietly. The lad’s ears strained to hear any sensible words that may be contained within the murmurs, and after a moment he was able to discern one. A name.

Lucy.

Sweeney was soon emitting breathy sounds as Anthony suckled on his nipple; his face twitched every now and then. The sailor’s lips leisurely made their way to the pale neck and sucked fervently. The feeling of the vibration that was created when Todd moaned intensified the boy’s arousal.

There was just no waiting any longer.

Anthony moved down the lean frame, spread Todd’s legs, and sat between them. His nimble fingers undid the belt from the slim waist and tossed it aside. Hurriedly, he un-tucked the barber’s shirt and took it off of him. The younger man’s heart was racing; he had never known such exhilaration. And he did not understand it. He could not comprehend why he was unable to control himself from ravishing the extremely drunk man. There was a beauty about Sweeney that he had seen in the gorgeous Johanna, though he could not place exactly what it was that connected the two.

Besides, Anthony had saved the man’s life; to smother a bit of his guilt, he decided that this could be a way for Todd to repay him, even though he felt that the barber did not have to.

Tenderly, he petted Todd’s disheveled hair, letting his fingers linger within the dark strands. He stroked the white streak that provided an outrageous flare to the barber’s entire persona. A lengthy period went by before he traced his palms over Todd’s midsection to unbutton the tight trousers. Gently, he tugged them off of the barber’s hips, and the instant he could see Sweeney’s manhood, he ceased to breathe.

This is wrong. Don’t do this.

The boy’s eyes gaped at the flaccid organ between the pallid thighs. He tremulously caressed it, making his own throb from the pleasure of doing such an action. Desperately, he tore the garment from the body and chucked it to the floor. The need to claim the stunning being was overwhelming. He had to have this man.

Frenziedly, he got up from the bed to strip himself and dig through his bag for a bottle of oil. A throaty noise came from Todd as if he were waiting in anticipation. Anthony practically pounced on him like an animal, slicked his aching erection, and hoisted the barber’s legs onto his shoulders. Sweeney sighed, though otherwise remained wholly motionless.

Perfect.

With great care Anthony penetrated the body under him. His eyes closed briefly from the astounding rapture that came from pushing into the tight orifice. He patiently stopped every few seconds to allow the muscles to relax before inching more of himself into Sweeney. When he was fully within the man, he had to pause in order to catch his breath.

Gradually, he pulled out almost entirely only to thrust into Todd once again. A shaky groan expelled itself from his opened mouth. His skin was immensely hot compared to the barber’s rather cold flesh. It caused pleasant shivers up and down his spine. He dipped down to lick across Todd’s chest before withdrawing and shoving his hardened member back into the body’s warmth. The thought of dominating Mr. Todd with such vigor that, if the man were conscious, it would make Sweeney whimper constantly and plead for more made Anthony inconceivably aroused.

The slow pace did not last long. His propulsions sped and became extraordinarily powerful as if he wished to rip the barber wide open. He panted, sweated, and moaned softly as he pounded violently into Todd. The older man’s body rocked in the direction of every aching thrust, and perspiration started to form on his pale skin. At times, Anthony bent down to make the flesh glisten more with his own tongue. It often forced its way into Sweeney’s mouth and ravenously tasted. All the while, the older male appeared utterly innocent, for his expression was still remarkably peaceful in spite of the fierce violation he was enduring currently.

Anthony at last arched his back and spilled his seed inside of Todd. His head was swimming with sheer ecstasy. For several minutes, he merely stayed in place. Occasionally, he planted chaste kisses onto the barber’s calves. He finally let the legs drop languidly from his shoulders and collapsed on top of the unconscious man. He gasped for air as he recovered from the intense orgasm; never before had he known that such bliss was possible.

The minutes passed slowly, and at length, he was able to pick himself up. As he did so, he wrapped his arms around Sweeney’s torso and lifted him. The barber’s head fell back, causing the lad to cradle it with one hand. He showered Todd’s countenance with delicate kisses, conquered the parted lips with his own, and pressed his tongue to the man’s neck to forge a path to his cheek. A distant grunt came from Sweeney, followed by a quivering exhale of breath. Anthony caressed the black mane affectionately, apologetically, and gave Todd one more kiss before lying him down caringly.

In silence, the boy stared at the spent being. He could not believe what had just occurred. And he knew it would never happen again unless Mr. Todd happened to drink himself into oblivion once more. Quite frankly, he did not understand why Todd had done such a thing in the first place; the man did not look much like an alcoholic.

Realizing that this was his only chance to experience such pleasure from the barber, Anthony shifted Sweeney onto his stomach and moved behind him. There was a small whimper from Todd as the lad hoisted his hips upward.

It was not long before Anthony entered him for a second time.

The sailor drove himself in and out of the male with more passion and energy than before. He buried his arousal completely within the warmth each time, enjoying the slight clenching of the muscles around him when he would withdraw.

He climaxed after just a few minutes, draping himself over Sweeney’s back tiredly to recover from the taxing exertion. His arms snaked about Todd’s waist and hugged him to him. It was an enjoyable surprise to discover that the barber was panting heavily like he was.

Before he permitted himself to sleep, Anthony wiped the result of his fornication from the man’s frame, re-dressed him – albeit, a tad sloppily – and inched Todd closer to the edge of the bed to where his head was almost hanging over it. The lad was instantly grateful for moving him, for the older man vomited wretchedly; the liquid cascaded onto the floor and dripped from his mouth. Tenderly, Anthony wiped Sweeney’s lips and made sure the black hair would not escape from behind the male’s ear.

Sweeney began to grumble unintelligibly again, yet Anthony could still hear one distinct word.

Lucy.

The sailor smiled benevolently and got up from the bed. He put on his clothes and settled himself in the comfortable chair opposite from where Todd lay.

He closed his eyes and replayed the recent events in his mind. The pleasurable images soon lulled him to sleep.

****
A soft groan resonated in the quiet room as Mr. Todd turned to lie on his back. Instantly, his head started to throb unbearably, making him moan miserably. His body ached below his waist as well, and his hand rubbed his right hip, though it was not quite where the pain was.

“Mr. Todd?” he heard a distant voice asked.

Reluctantly, he parted his eyelids a little to find who had said his name. Everything was hazy and distorted. He could not discern the figure at all. As he attempted to concentrate harder, his vision pieced together the sight of his wife’s angelic face with her golden locks cascading over her shoulder. He blinked numerous times, not believing what he was seeing. She smiled and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“Lucy?” he whispered almost inaudibly.
“Mr. Todd? It’s Anthony.”

Sweeney closed his eyes for a minute or so before opening them once more. The beautiful image was gone, leaving him to look upon the young sailor. He swallowed and struggled to sit up. A hiss sounded from him due to the soreness of his lower backside, and his expression became tense. He had no idea why he was hurting. Hurriedly, he stopped thinking about it, for it made his head pulsate agonizingly even more.

“Here,” Anthony said and urged a cup of water into the barber’s hands. “Drink this down.”

Todd obeyed, and the lad strode to the window to part the curtains slightly. The older man gasped, shut his eyes, and covered his face with his palm.

“Bloody Christ,” he said hoarsely. “God damn it.”
Anthony frantically closed them to plunge the room back into its darkened, gloomy state. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Mr. Todd,” he spoke hastily.

He walked to take a seat in front of the man on the mattress. Sweeney sipped at the water for a period and then set it on the table next to the bed. The barber looked like hell, and Anthony had to stifle the amused laughter that came from studying him. The black hair was splayed out in all directions, his eyes were reddened and appeared glassy, and he seemed paler than normal. He rarely made direct eye contact with the sailor, simply stealing a glance every once in a while.

“I apologize for last night, Anthony,” he stated, his voice raspy. “For my behavior.”
“Why did you have so much? They just wanted you to feel welcomed since you don’t have anyone else in this town other than your neighbor.”
“That’s why. I don’t need to be welcomed, nor do I need to witness their affectionate interactions. I’m here to focus on work and that’s all.”
“Well, what about this woman whose name you kept uttering.”
Todd stared at him as if he were about to explode with anger.
“Lucy. What about her?”

The barber’s expression was wholly irate. Without warning, he hurled the half-empty water glass at the floor. Anthony jumped at the shattering noise that came from the impact.

“Never speak of that name again,” Sweeney growled in a low, dangerous tone. “Never.”
The lad nodded fearfully and stammered, “Y-Yes, Mr. Todd.”

Todd’s eye twitched agitatedly before he bowed his head and entwined his fingers in his messy mane. An awkward silence settled between them; Anthony merely gazed expectantly at the man, waiting for him to speak or move.

Finally, Sweeney raised his head and rubbed his face as he said, “Thank you for letting me stay here last night. I don’t remember being brought up here, but I appreciate that you allowed me to sleep in your bed.”
“You’re welcome.”
Todd nodded and expelled a weighty sigh. “I should return to the shop. Mrs. Lovett will no doubt be wondering where I am.”

He made to get up, but the immense tenderness of his backside prevented him. Anthony observed the grimaces that flashed across the barber’s visage, causing him to lightly push on Sweeney’s shoulders.

“Perhaps you should lie down a bit longer,” he spoke encouragingly.

Sweeney permitted the boy to ease him onto his back. He shifted to his side and curled up exhaustedly. More sleep was something he was not going to pass up.

“Wake me in thirty minutes,” he whispered and closed his eyes.
“All right.”

For a moment Anthony gazed at Todd’s still figure, craving to have contact with the male again. Everything in his mind advised him not to, yet he did it anyway. He moved upward towards the pillows and stretched out behind the slim frame. There was no reaction from Todd until he wrapped his arm around the barber’s waist.

“What are you doing, Anthony?” the older man asked. The boy was beyond shocked from not hearing any sort of disapproval or furiousness.
“I just thought you might like some company.”
There was a pause before Sweeney replied, “Alright. Don’t do anything to make me kill you, though.”

Anthony smiled at the response, but in truth, he had no idea whether the man was joking or not.

The acts he committed, he knew, would surely warrant such a course of action from the demon barber if Sweeney was indeed being completely serious. It made him sincerely grateful that Mr. Todd had not remembered a thing.

WTF?

ziminthehall7@aol.com — Sat, 26 Jan 2008 00:34:04 GMT

Johnny isn't nominated for a SAG? For POTC or ST???? What the fuck?!
And ST isn't up for any, like I thought it would be up for best encsemble.

Well, fuck. That's gay.

Least now I don't have to tape...4-5 hours of the damn show.

ziminthehall7@aol.com — Tue, 15 Jan 2008 21:14:21 GMT

Aw! How cute!

I do love making people laugh. And I'd die without an imagination. :D Good match.

Congrats Johnny!!!

ziminthehall7@aol.com — Mon, 14 Jan 2008 02:47:54 GMT

After seven nominations, they finally got it right. And god damn it, you deserved it for Sweeney.

And Sweeney Todd just won! Fucking god! Tim Burton and everyone - you deserved it! Finally! All right! You crushed what everyone thought was sure to win!

Fuck, I'm all happy now. Okay, now I wish the actual Globes were happening instead of the press conference thing. It would've been nice to see Johnny and Tim finally walk across that damn stage. Ah well.

Fandom

ziminthehall7@aol.com — Sun, 13 Jan 2008 07:05:12 GMT

I'm growing tired of it. Just the whole...fandom thing. I love writing fanfic, don't get me wrong. And I don't mind that I don't get a lot of comments; a lot of my readers have dropped me or LJ completely. That's cool. But there's this ever present feeling that there are "ring leaders," or rather a certain number of people who have a "higher standing" in the realm. It's just kind of...sad to see that a new writer or someone not as well-known as say, someone who's been in the fandom for awhile hardly gets any feedback when another post could be filled with 20, 30 comments.

I keep thinking about leaving the POTC comms I'm in entirely; maybe I should finally do it and be done with it. If people want to read my stuff, they'll be able to find it. Just the other day, someone commented on a story I posted back in July, for god's sakes. People can find me, if they'd like. Maybe I should apply the advice I got for my job: quit before you end up hating it completely. Quit the comms. before I hate being a part of it.

Shit, what the hell do I do? Well, one thing I know for sure: I'll keep writing my ass off until there's nothing more to write. I've got 13 fics that are WIPs for POTC alone. It's not like I'm going to run out of material any time soon. Besides, I've got to keep writing fanfic; it's the only thing that'll keep me from blowing up all mankind. At least the people that piss me off.

TMI - stolen from dragonmad

ziminthehall7@aol.com — Sat, 12 Jan 2008 08:52:26 GMT

It's 2:40 in the morning here; I've still got time to do stuff!!! I've got to start getting on a schedule though next week...None of this staying up until 4 in the morning anymore....

1. Is there anyone on your friends list you would ever consider having sex with?
A: Oh sure. Why the hell not? :)

2. Sex in the morning, afternoon or night?
A: Night. Maybe afternoon. Seems like it'd be a good way to unwound after a hard day.

3. On which side of the bed do you sleep?
A: Don't have a side - sleep diagonally with my head at the foot of the bed. How the hell am I ever going to sleep with someone else?!

4. Pork, beef, or chicken?
A: I'm gonna have to say beef. It is what's for dinner. :D

5. Have to pull over on side of road to puke?
A: Nope. Never. Hope I don't have to.

6. Have you ever taken your clothes off for money?
A: Sure haven't!

7. Shower or bath?
A: Shower, though I would love to have a nice relaxing bath sometime.

8. Do you pee in the shower?
A: No. Ew.

9. Mexican or Chinese?
A: Chinese food and men. There's something about those Asians, I tell ya what.

10. Do you want someone aggressive or passive in bed?
A: Aggressive because I'd be the passive one. I can't see myself taking on a dominating role.

11. Do you love someone on your friends list?
A: Of course! They're my buds. But romantically? No.

12. Do you know all the people on your friends list?
A: Not in "real life" and some I don't even know how they came upon my journal...

13. Love or money?
A: Money is guaranteed to last. Love - not so much. I'll have to take the money. Money don't talk back, biotch! XD

14. Credit cards or cash?
A: Cash.

17. Has there ever been anyone in your family you wish wasn't?
A: Actually, no. I love my family. Though, I sometimes wish my mom wasn't or my sister, but that's just because they piss me off at times. I'd never actually want to be without them.

16. Would you rather go camping or to a 5 star hotel?
A: Fucking hotel! I would never survive outdoors. I've got to have a flushable toilet and something to spray myself down with that would guarantee no insects would come within at least 25 feet of me. I'd freak out.

17. What is the weirdest place you have had sex?
A: Can't answer because I haven't had any yet!

18. Would you shave your entire body (including your head) for money?
A: How much money are we talking???

19. Have you ever been to a strip club?
A: Nope. Although I wouldn't mind it.

20. Ever been to a bar?
A: Nope. Though I want to!

21. Ever been kicked out of a bar or a club?
A: Nope.

22. Ever been so drunk you had to be carried out of somewhere?
A: Oh god, no. I'd never be that drunk off my ass. I've heard my cousin's stories of people being so drunk at the place she's a bartender at. Makes you look like a total dumb fuck.

23. Kissed someone of the same sex?
A: Does my mom count? I've never kissed anyone.

24. Favorite drink?
A: I gotta say I love milk. Does the body good and all that. Buuut, I love a can of coke just as much.

25. Had sex in a movie theater?
A: Hell no! And nobody do it either! That is something none of the theatre staff wants to see, hear, or clean up any *ahem* messes that may be had. Or packages for a condom! Besides, trust me, a theatre may look clean, but it's not really all that clean. :) While I'm ranting: people, keep your god damn chewing tabacoo out of the auditoriums too!

26. Had sex in a bathroom?
A: Shit no. Never would. Gross.

27. Have you ever had sex at work?
A: Noooo. That's totally unprofessional.

28. Have you ever been in an "adult" store?
A: I'd like to say yes, but not really. Unless Spencer's Gifts counts. They've got lots of kinky shit.

29. Bought something from an adult store?
A: Sadly, no. I'd love to, though!

30. Have you been caught having sex?
A: Nope cause I've never had it.

31. Does anyone have naughty pics of you?
A: Nope. At least, not that I know of. Well, I guess there was that one post I made...

32. Have you ever called someone the wrong name during sex?
A: That'd suck monkey balls. Ouch.

33. Who do you think has the guts to repost this?
A: I don't know. They're all perverts! :D

Shut the fuck up!

ziminthehall7@aol.com — Wed, 09 Jan 2008 00:16:01 GMT

I am so sick of hearing, "And the writer's strike...." "Becuase of the writer's strike...." "I'm not crossing the picket line..."

SHUT THE FUCK UP!

Writers, fucking get over yourselves. I'm sorry. But I think it's absolutely ridiculous. No doubt you were making a hell of a lot of money anyway. Moreso than the majority of people in the country. At least you had a job! A lot of people don't! And you were making all sorts of cash! You should be happy you even get to do a job you have a passion for: writing!

Fucking get over yourselves.

Flames, JD, The Warren

ziminthehall7@aol.com — Sun, 06 Jan 2008 17:33:12 GMT

Ok. A bit of entertainment to start us off. I'm seriously of thinking about replying to this one, though!

From ff.net on "Enter Sandman"

"I can't seem to find a word to describe this, apart from downright paedophillic. I'm fifteen, but I can obviously see then if there is some sort of sick fantasy being played out here, it is NOT right. Willy Wonka is a delightful character from a children's novel, not a kiddie lover, and frankly to even want to write about it in a non-horror way is frankly sick. It was well written. That is all. Terrible plot line, and as eccentric as the man is he would never do that. I know thats the whole point of fanfiction, but when a child does something innocently flirtatous, you do not encourage it. For anyone to like this fanfiction they must also feel the same way. Unless you wanted them to be disturbed? But judging by this I say not."

Now, some pics.

Just cause:

There it be! All the Johnny and Geoffrey films I have. Well, we do have the "Banger Sisters," but it's technically my mom's. AWE isn't in there, but I've got it!! :D I've still got a ways to go to go to finish the collection. hahaa

I finally took some pics iside the Warren the other day with my phone. Being all cool about it to not draw attention. :) Here are some:

Box office right by the front doors. It was pretty busy for a Tuesday! then again, it was New Year's Day. I was waiting around for my friend to show up since I was seeing the movie with her.

The hell that is Conc. 1. That's just the front half; there are five more registers round the corner.

Little Christmas decoration in front of the con. 1. I thought it was pretty.

Inside an actual auditorium. That's the screen; they have curtains covering all of them until it's time for the previews. Each auditorium has its own lighting, like there's a rainbow one, orange and yellow, green and red (which we all like to call a bloody nose), and others.

And here's looking at one side of the auditorium. Those are the wall speakers; plenty more speakers in the aud.

ST and an Orgasmic Organ

ziminthehall7@aol.com — Thu, 27 Dec 2007 10:32:13 GMT

Went to go see Sweeney Todd again with Jo last night. She was freaking ecstatic, head over heels, because her name is Joanna so she was like "Johnny's singing to me!" It was pretty funny.

After I saw it the first time, I was left with an awe feeling over the music. The way it just flows like a waltz, or is very loud and deliberate; the mixing with major and minor tones was awesome! Yay for dissonance. The organ at the beginning makes me freaking...makes me mush in my chair. It's such an incredible instrument that can make something so beautiful or so terrifying. God, that has to be one of my favorite musical pieces of the film (along with "Johanna")- even if it was only for a minute or so. I'm trying to actively listen as well - part of my Ear Training class homework, kind of - so I'm like "Damn it. Is that a seventh chord at the end of that organ solo? Augmented chord??" It's fun. The whole damn music in the opening titles just made me want to get up and start conducting! I want to be in that orchestra!! The horns are fantastic too. Gah! I could go on and on!

But what I'm trying to say is that the music from that really struck me just as Zimmer's POTC scores and Shore's LOTR scores. But Sondheim's arrangements were just that extra powerful push that has made me really think on what I want to do with my life. And I think that's composing. It just...makes sense.

If anyone has sheet music, pass it along! That'd be something I'd love analyzing. I'm going to have to check Senseny....

OMG!

ziminthehall7@aol.com — Sat, 22 Dec 2007 05:03:58 GMT

OH MY GOD YOU GUYS! SERIOUSLY! YOU GUYS! SERIOUSLY!

TENTACLE PORN! JACK/DAVY PORN! TENTACLE PORN!!!

Ok. Now that's out of the way....

Went to see Sweeney today. Forgot they'd be carding, but I had my parent there anyway. ;) haha I really enjoyed it; my mom and sister, not so much. But! That's probably because they don't have as much a passion for music as I do and just the wonderment of how Tim Burton shoots things. :D As I've said, musicals aren't really my thing, but this one was pretty amazing. The orchestrations were very sweeping and powerful; everyone's vocals I really enjoyed. Johnny pulled it off, and I loved Helena! She was so quirky and funny and beautiful singer. Totally wasn't expecting that ending though! So so not. I mean, dude. I was floored. I wish Mrs. L wouldn't have died. And though I was rooting for Mr. T and didn't want to see him killed, it was probably for the best. All he had was hate left.

Going to see it with Jo on Wednesday; dragging my dad with me next weekend. I'll shoot for five or higher to see it. Damn Warren raised their prices to 7 and 9 bucks a ticket *grumble*

ziminthehall7@aol.com — Fri, 14 Dec 2007 00:32:00 GMT

Oh my GAWD!!!

I'M GOING HOME TOMORROW! THANK YOU JESUS! THANK YOU TOM CRUISE!

The reason I was having to stay was not only because I have finals Monday, but because the weather is also supposed to be bad this weekend. But my mom told me to come home and between her, my grandpa, and my dad - if the weather is bad - they'll get me back Monday morning.

OMG! I'M SO FUCKING HAPPY. So fucking happy.

SNICKERS! HERSHEY!!!

Going Batty

ziminthehall7@aol.com — Thu, 13 Dec 2007 02:16:59 GMT

I wasn't supposed to be spending anymore time in this hell hole after tomorrow. Three nights! I can't take it! Bitches are fucking loud; my bitches aren't here (my cats) so I can't hold and talk to them. I can barely go a week without them!

I DON'T WANT TO BE HERE ANYMORE! :( I want my break and go home. And I've only seen my dad once in the past....three weeks now? I was supposed to spend the night at his place this weekend. Who knows what he's working next weekend.

I'm so sad. God damn snow day. Look what you've done!

Bugger

ziminthehall7@aol.com — Tue, 11 Dec 2007 21:07:18 GMT

So, school was cancelled today. Normally, I'd be all for it. But this sucks! That means that the finals that were scheduled today have to be made up Monday. Monday! And I was so looking forward to going home for the weekend and staying home!!! Damn it.

Tomorrow: Music Theory
Thursday: College Algebra
Friday: Comp. and Speech
Monday (grrr): Ear Training and Marriage and Family

Damn ice and snow. It wasn't even that bad today. We got up at 9 to make a trip to freakin' McDonald's. I was dreaming of sausage biscuits. Then we went to Dillon's and stocked up on food. I'm in hibernation.