Unite and take over.

I fucking hate zucchini. Really, the other night some chick my mom knows from twitter brought us some baby zucchini from her garden. The while I was thinking, 'Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, God! Please don't make me eat that nasty shit.
Well, the chick left and ted-ah! My mother cooks it up on the grill and sets it in front of me.
'Yeah, like I'm really gonna' eat that crap.' I said to her. She looked me dead in the eyes and replied, "You better, because if you don't I'm going to let the ninjas have you. Do you want that?"
I cocked my head to the side and considered my chances against the highly trained warriors from the temples of Japan. 'Of course I do!' I exclaimed, pulling the Soul Edge from my back. I stole to the corner of the room with a sweep of my cloak.
Shaking her head, my mother blew on a little silver whistle she kept close to her heart. The noise it made could not be herd by any untrained or damaged ear drums. Suddenly, I was surrounded by figures garbed completely in black.
My gaze swept over the room and I counted at least fifteen ninjas. I smirked, Is that it? I thought to myself. This was going to be a piece of cake.
One of the figures ran towards me with his katana held low, as to strike my legs out from under me. Staying perfectly still, I waited until he was upon me to side step. I held the Soul Edge out from my body. Before the ninja could stop himself, he ran into the edge of my sword, spilling his bowels all over our kitchen floor.
I'm certainly not cleaning that up, I thought. Another two ninjas came at me. One had Cat Claws between his fists and the other was throwing shurikens at me.
Dodging all the throwing stars I ran to meet the clawed ninja. He aimed a blow at my stomach, but I blocked it with the Soul Edge and grabbed the back of his neck to use him as a flesh shield against the surikens.
Sheathing the Soul Edge on my back I grabbed one of the throwing stars out of my ninja/shield's back and aimed it one of the ninjas who were encroaching on my personal space.
"Don't pop my bubble!" I yelled at them. I saw that the shuriken missed the ninja's face and instead hit his neck. The blood pored from his main artery distracting me from the fight, and another ninja threw a dagger at me. The knife hit my thigh and dug its sharp fang into me. Even though the pain was great I knew better than to show weakness.
I clasped the handle and pulled it out, without uttering even a sigh of distress. Immediately I threw it back at its owner. The blade took its rightful place inside the said owner's side, and he keeled over.
Dropping the Cat claw ninja's limp body, I once again drew the Soul Edge. Sweeping it through the crowd of agile figures, two of them dropped to the ground in a pool of collected blood.
One of the larger ninjas, loosing his composure at the death of his companions let out a horrible battle cry and swung his chain and ball at my head. I jumped onto our kitchen table and kicked his nose into his face causing him to shriek in pain and stumble off to deal with his injuries.
My mother, who had exited the room at the blow of her whistle, was leaning against the wall in the hall way leading to the laundry room, observing the fight through the dumbwaiter. At each blow I delivered she couldn't help giving a grin. She had taught me well. But if I won the fight, who was going to eat the zucchini she grilled?
It was down to me and the last ninja. I had discarded my sweater and pants which were so drenched in blood the they were a hindrance to my movement. Now all I had covering me were my pretty white tank and Adrian's boxer shorts. This was the same ninja that had relentlessly thrown surikens at me through most of the fight. Now he was out of the stars and I had grown tired of using the Soul Edge. We circled each other. I wasn't sure about what form to use, so I asked him.
"Should I use bear style, and just take your head off? Or, Chin Na so I can freeze you then take your head off?" I teased him by getting closer then farther away, circling him all the while. Finally he jumped at me grabbing for my throat. Sliding between his legs through the blood on the floor I grabbed his genitals and pulled him with me. Flipping him over so I could sit on top of him I pushed my fingers into a few of his vulnerable points, immobilizing him.
I smiled at him. Puting my mouth to his throat I kissed him and said goodbye.

I walked out of the room with my blood drenched clothes in one hand and the Soul Edge swung on top of my shoulder. Stopping for a short stint to tell my mother, "I'm not cleaning that up." And walking away I said "Oh, and you can keep the fucking zucchini."

Oh, aren't I funny?

To my hero garbed in white,

Even though I have no idea of what you're saying in most of your songs, I love you. Your voice and the way you present your ideals and the ideals of Oomph! are amazing. If the only thing I was permitted to do was lay on the ground and listen to your voice, I would be only too happy to do so.
Some of my love needs to be directed to your companions in the musical world. To Flux I say, 'I have never been attracted to someone I have never heard speak, until now.' And to Crap... God, I love your hair.

Catfish Princess

I have stumbled across a cycle that appears to keep happening to me. This is that, I'll meet someone and I'll talk to them, then when we've known each other for awhile I'll find out something about him and kind of adopt it. For example, when I first met a Mr. Donovan Marshall.
The first thing I noticed about Mr. Marshall were his unusual dressing habits, that drew me in, but when I actually started talking to him, I found out that he liked D&D. This RPG was something I had been interested in when I was in middle school. When I found out that he liked it, I went home and started reading through all my old manuals. That made it easier to converse with him, because I hadn't really been playing.
There are so many adopted habits and hobbies of mine that spawned from my previous relationships. I've realized that I'm made of mostly other people. When I really think about it I get depressed. Am I really not unique? Well, to tell the truth I don't think there's any such thing as unique anymore. If there's one thing I took with me from Mr. Hall's class its that nothing is original because the Greeks have already done it.
I've seen all kinds of personalities and messed up lives that I can be only semi-comfortable in my own skin. I can say, 'At least I'm not as cliche or fucked up as that person.', but even then I'm just using other people to make myself feel better.
Maybe I'm just an eclectic pool of other people's ideas and quirks, with nothing original about me but the DNA in my chromosomes.