quote:Originally posted by London: Taking drugs with someone and fucking them isn't mothering them, Benway. I know it's easy to get confused, but trust me, it's not the same thing.
yeah but I'm sure that when he was freaking out and shit, rocking in the corner and mumbling about not having taken a crap for a week, she looked after him.
quote:Originally posted by London: Taking drugs with someone and fucking them isn't mothering them, Benway. I know it's easy to get confused, but trust me, it's not the same thing.
yeah but I'm sure that when he was freaking out and shit, rocking in the corner and mumbling about not having taken a crap for a week, she looked after him.
Do you think anyone's ever written any Pete / Kate slash? That would be awesome. I think we should spend this afternoon pooling our creative talents into a Kate/Pete slash fiction story. The design-literate among us (Misc? Not?) could mock up some graphics. It would be wonderful!
Oh you can totally talk about that, ralphie-boy. But I know the truth - that I have just eaten a 400+ calorie Salt Beef and Gherkin sandwich - and that I am definitely NOT an anorexist!
quote:Originally posted by MiscellaneousFiles: Oh you can totally talk about that, ralphie-boy. But I know the truth - that I have just eaten a 400+ calorie Salt Beef and Gherkin sandwich - and that I am definitely NOT an anorexist!
I suspect you just have a very high metabolism like I did when I was in my 20's. At one point I was 6'4" and weighed 140lbs. It'll catch up with you eventually more than likely. I'm still 6'4" but I'm now well into the 200lb realm.
ETA: Someone once asked me which concentration camp I had done time in.
a grubby cigarette stub dropped into the cracked glass ashtray that sat on the bed. Pete was agitated, and was gently rocking himself, his pale naked legs tucked up against his chest. A brown pin striped blazer hung loosely from his shoulders, and the scars of self abuse were visible in the brilliant white V that ran from his neck down to where the jacket was fastened. Kate watched his eyes as they anxiously scanned the bermondsey skyline, as if searching for the hope and strength that they had both lost sometime earlier in the week.
I'll sort it out..I just need....
Of course he needed. He always needed. Kate turned her attention to her dirty bare feet. Nails broken, burn marks on the soles. A light dusting of ash across them both from where Pete had knocked over the ashtray a few hours ago. Pete rested his head against the thin pane that seperated the lovers from the wind and rain. Rubbish danced in wet streets. She held both feet in her hands and rested her head against the coarse material of Pete's jacket. There was no reaction. She moved back and fumbled underneath the duvet for a lighter.
Can't you make a call Pete? Can't you call....what's his name?
Nah darlin.. he's....I haven't....
A thudding came from the room below. The other bandmembers continued to entertain, and the volume of music rose, briefly revealing itself to appreciative laughing and hooting, before sinking back down into a thick soup. A knock at the door.
...Cup of Tea?
Kate lit her cigarette and watched Pete silently mouth the word 'no' with his broken dry lips. His eyelids fell over those beautiful grey pools. His hair was affixed to his forehead by the moisture from the window pane. Kate shivered, and wrapped the duvet around her naked body, so that only those dirty black toes peeped out. A sweet smell seemed to be rising from underneath the bed. The lampshade hung askew, throwing a dull orange light across one half of the room. Tattered curtains covered most of the window, soaking in the sex and the smoke from the past few days. A drag. Another drag. Kate watched the smoke swirl in the grey afternoon light that surrounded Pete. He continued to stare through the gap in the curtains. A guitar string was wrapped around his left wrist. He fumbled under the duvet for the lighter.
Lighter?
Pete turned away from the curtain, and looked towards Kate. The shock of contact jolted Kate's body. A wave of adrenaline moved from the top of her spine to her toes, causing her to shudder. Those eyes. Those broken fucking eyes still had something.
Somebody walk over your grave darlin?
Jesus Pete....
Still holding the duvet around herself, Kate moved so that she could lay her head against Pete's neck. His smell was even more electrifying than his gaze. A million fags and a million gigs were there, always, like an aura. She thought she could smell the poetry that was locked away inside that screwed up shell. These times, these grey days were like living with a constant itch, and Pete withdrew to a place where she could only reach him one way. She longed for the feeling of his cold hands nervously stuttering up her tanned, slender legs. There was nothing so real. Nothing as perfect.
Pete....
[ 13.04.2006, 10:04: Message edited by: Dr. Benway ]
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Benway that was excellent. My own efforts are going to seem pretty coarse by comparison. That said, no one ever lost readers on tmo by coarsing shit up.
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quote: [Not really an answer, more of a message to vikram regarding his posts in this forum here: http://tinyurl.com/ro7n5 Cambridge? TV show? Presumably he's getting confused with 'The Friday Night Project'. Easily done. All of these fucknuts did it too: http://www.thefridaynightproject.co.uk/
Oh, and then there's this: http://tinyurl.com/s3pq4 Not a pleasant read. And as is clear from vikram's posts, vikram really hates us. All of us. Makes you wonder why he continues to read the newsletter and post his queries. We hope it's because deep down inside, beneath the layers of juvenile bile, there is love; and vikram sees the good. Amen - LbL]
For the record: I think LBL is quite lovely really and just the kinda thing this city needs. The Friday Thing, however (last time I read it anyway), is vile. And yes I did think the TV show had something to do with TFP. My mistake and all apologies to Iain "twat" Lee.
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quote:Originally posted by vikram: so, who was it that shopped me, eh?
I had a proper pissed up conshpiracy theory with Thorn and we came to the conclusion that somebody, somewhere is watching this board. Far too many spontaneous japes end up somewhere. I mean, we could be totally wrong, but I've seen stuff here that seems to be completely unique and then 'springs up' eerily elsewhere. I'm a bit you know, nervous after that.
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somebody (not a forumite) just sent the mail to me, with a lol attached. This is all very ironic, because on the first page of this thread, ben talks about the need to generate 'sticky content'.
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