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Friday, November 29, 2013

Queen Of The Desert CH 3 Katheena REBOOT







The Full Count (acoustic)  by Killing Moon 





Katheena had never been very good at planning anything at all. 

But she sure could make a presentation. 



The thin blue blade swept across the wide valley of the San Joking River and I swear, I felt the thunder of a thousand hooves in the ground.

The cabin behind us roared with lightning-struck fury and we damned punks witnessed fear that struck bone.


I looked back at my friends and they were chust standing there with their mouths agape.


Fat Jerry broke the hold of Tellesco and stood up.  He looked past me and his eyes opened wide. 


It was the herald to the End of Fuckno, like a blast from the trumpets of Heaven.


He said, “You dug me up for THIS?!”


He ran towards the big white truck as the blue blade arrived.  He climbed up into the driver seat and the cloud of dust blasted us from the huge black horse, held to a stop by his reins.


Mayhem had arrived.



Tahoo/Amen.



The Glinty held them reins taut in one hand, and his other hand clamped the hearse-wagon brake-handle.

The cloud of dust rained down on us.  Glinty stood up and dropped the reins.  He grabbed his shotgun and aimed it at the fat punk rocker in the utility truck.


Mayhem snorted dust from his snout and shook his head.  He whinnied and looked back at the old ghost-cowboy atop the wagon.


Glinty nodded towards us.


The huge horse whipped his head back to face us.  His wild mane of blue flames was a blinding sight to behold.  


The white truck started up its engine and The Glinty fired his shotgun through the missing windshield at the face of that punk rocker with the purple spikes.




From inside the cabin of the truck we heard a shriek.

“NO!  Birdshot?!  Again?!”


It seemed like new old times among bad friends.


I wiped the dust out of my eyes and regarded the small figure sitting next to The Glinty.

 
Nothing like a blast from the heavens to wake you the fuck up.

I could see her.


Katheena.



Did she betray me?



















Q U E E N


O F


T H E


D E S E R T






C H   3




KATHEENA


(R E B O O T)








Dayam.





Katheena had never been very good at planning anything at all. 

Of course, she could plan a hook-up, a meeting, a dinner, but never a party.


Such a thing takes constant and unerring commitment until it actually happens. It is a skill that can be both taught and learned, but it is not an inherent talent that comes along with the DNA of simply being borne.


Yup.



None of us hold all the keys, you know. 

We each have our weaknesses, and we each have our strengths. 

These may balance out if you pay close enough attention to all of them details, but the whole equation is known only at the end of one’s life. 


The best that you can do is attempt to put more plusses into your math and hope for the best against the negatives that occur along the way. 

That there, my friend, is known as Faith.






Seasons by Chris Cornell   






Katheena’s smile could brighten a room when she entered.  She never hung against a wall like a flower. 

Nope. 

She was rather like a shotgun.


When she left the room, all the lights dimmed and you were left with a feeling of wanting to follow her. 


Others would be right behind her, out the door.  Where was she headed next?  She was like a pied piper.


How could she enter a party, make a full sweep and charm each person with a few words and her goofy, honest grin and then leave with all the fun people?


You wanted to run to catch up to her, to follow her to the next place. 


Were you been left behind?


There was still time to join her, if you made quick steps.


Would you have stayed behind?

Would you follow?




God help you

God help us All

---willies out.












OK, One More For You:




It was Katheena that went missing from this tale. 

It was also me.


The tale will unfold as it wants to, but I guess it comes back to the Truth.

I want to follow her.


It’s just that…


Well,


It’s a different sort of scary for me.


I been fighting it.



I apologize to you Katheena for what happened to you.






Rrrrrrgh.




.

Friday, November 22, 2013

Queen Of The Desert Ch 2: Hope


Welcome back to this tale.  God Help You.









Modern Jesus  by Portugal The Man  






Katheeeeee-na was what The Little Lion Man Joey would call her…




She 



was





Well…


She had been my...





Star.




She was the One.









I lost her.









That, my friend, was my fault.
















QUEEN

OF

THE

DESERT




HOPE











An exploded cabin knocked us the fuck down.  It roared with vehemence.  We punk bastards needed to regroup. 



It was time to get the fuck out.



A mighty steed with blue flames for a mane sped towards us with a ghost hearse in tow, and I felt like I was gonna die. 



Fuck that shit. 



I shouted orders.


“Get that fat bastard up!  Put him in the back of the big truck and tie him down!  We getting out NOW!”


Time to go.

Gawdamn.


Tellesco squeezed his big arm around the throat of the giant punk until that bastard sunk back down.  He screamed at us.  It was rare to hear him sound like that. 


He said, “Get some rope!  No, wait, get some wires!”


I ran to the big truck and opened up a panel.  There were many panels, and this one did not have wire inside it.

The next one did not either, but there was a tool belt. 

In one of its pouches I found a pair of dikes.  That is a proper name for a large pair of pliers that are strong enough to cut large strands of wire, or ten-penny nails, or even wood screws, but it is easier to say, “A pair of dikes.”


I wrapped the tool belt about my waist and buckled it, and scrambled to the next panel.

I opened it and pulled it down to find long drawers full of  wire caps and fasteners and such and I knew I was getting close to the wire.


In the middle part of this side of the truck, I found several coils of wire, and pulled out some ten-gauge four, which simply means that it was very strong and also covered in plastic.

Didn’t want to hurt the big baby that Tellesco held down.


I ran from the truck and looked over my shoulder at the approaching front.

The blue blade across the horizon gleamed brighter in the dark light as it neared.

I remembered something.  




 The following words are from here:

http://williesthestories.blogspot.com/2013/05/tfw-ch-14-iron-mettle.html



He put his hat back on his head and said, “No, son, you done had them visions.  You seen things that are true.  You ain’t dreamt a thing.”



I shook my head.  I said, “I was lost in the desert.  I was buried up to my waist.  I was left behind.”


Glinty said, “That’s all up for grabs.  Only thing I know is this:  Them dream things are fears.  Consternations. Worriment.  That’s what the lady folk do to pass the time.  Now, Visions are another sort of thing.  You have to find the difference between the two, boy.  Ya see, we men, we fighters, well, we got to face them fears head on.”


That there, my friend, showed to me the chink in the armor of The Glinty.

I thought about two ladies.

One had died in the ocean, and one had died in the desert.

Both had come back.

One showed me the way.

And one had such anger that she could freeze a room when she walked in.


I thought that this old cowboy preacher should meet them.  It was obvious that he hadn't.


Maybe he would.







Well, it was obvious that he’d met at least one of them women.  


You see, that old cowboy preacher witnessed his weakness, and then he recognized it, and then he overcame it.




Perhaps I would need to do that as well.   

I would have to make amends to my anger at Tellesco.   


I would have to make peace with bailing on Katheena. 




Dayam was that a lot of work to do in a short time.



But it looked liked it was work that needed to be done.   


Ya know.



You should also know why The LGinty needed us to have to deal with that angry punk rocker.

 

Jerry hated the Glinty because they had different perspectives:





The punk rocker had a purple mohawk because he was a Purple Robe.


 

How fucked up was that?




(To Be Continued)




God Help You.

God Help Us All.


---willies out








It’s About Time   by Young The Giant  





.

Monday, November 4, 2013

BETA: Queen Of The Desert CH 2 (to be named)

Possible tunes:



This Is The Way We Move   by Langhome Slim And The Law  http://youtu.be/_tW7jJe3Omg





Awe   by Asa  http://youtu.be/obNoEuwuwRY



Hum Drum Blues   by The Growlers  




Surprise  by Filter  




Everything Is Debatable    by Hellogoodbye  




Elastic Heart   by SIA  




I Feel You  by Depeche Mode  




Sullen Ground   by Mount Kimbie  




Home   by LCD Soundsystem





Red Sky   by Thrice  




Tear Drop Windows   by Ben Gibbard  




Little Games   by The Colourist  




Hands Open   by Snow Patrol  




I Will Steal You Back  by Jimmy Eat World  





Oh Shit!   By Pharcyde  




My Number   by  Foals  




Not Giving In   by Rudimental  










VERSION ONE



Katheena was my star.


She rode atop a black hearse from the late 1800’s next to an old cowboy priest.  Both of them were dead.


They were heading towards us damned punks.


She had hugged me back at the baptized mansion in the first attack of them Purple Robes. 


I gotta tell you, I had been in a state of shock since them.


I did not think that any of this was happening.






This Is The Way We Move   by Langhome Slim And The Law  



(Write about meeting her again, what it meant to see her, well, sort of alive again, and what she had to say.)


She said, “You have some power.  You are the Red.  You need to step up here.”


Do you see, there weren’t only blue ghosts of lost cowboys, nor the implants of them Purple Robes.

There were the Reds.

This would be our army.


You see, the whole city of Fuckno was inhabited by them Purple Robes.


The city, the towns off-skirts to it, and the whole damned valley of the Sans Joking River Valley.


She said, “I need to tell you about what happened to Sean and Tellesco in the Baptized Mansion, right before you guys did that.  They are connected to some...  things.”




(To Be Fully Fleshed, so to speak)





God Help You, my friend.

God Help Us All.


---willies out.



.