Submitted by J.D. Newsman – Free Car! (Creepypasta Sorta) – Part II


Part I

The Alan character sounds a bit different because I finally figured out that my mic wasn’t plugged in all the way. I’m a noob audio wise bear with me. Hope ya’ll enjoy.

The music is free domain see the last videos description for details. Too lazy to look up the link again.

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Submitted by J.D. Newsman – Free Car! (Creepypasta Sorta) – Part I

 


An original story I just made up as I sat here in front of the microphone. I was hoping to get some Halloween spooky stuff done (on or by Halloween) but life happened.

This idea had been milling about in my head and it came out ok. I used the name Alan Rickman and then realized it was a real person. O well…it took me half an hour to render and I’m sure Professor Snape won’t mind being fictionalized as an institutionalized salesman.

The music is awesome and free domain as far as I know. If you have similar needs or just want some atmosphere check out this link:

 

 

https://archive.org/details/EerieCreepyAndScaryMusicForYourScoresDvds

Part II coming soon!


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Daily Poem 3 – Alchemist’s Lament

Image result for alchemist


They want magic to come from  unknown places

As soon as the source is revealed

There’s a frown on their faces

Why! They collectively squealed.

I could have done that!

There’s no wonder

For I too have a rabbit and hat

Which leaves all us dancers annoyed

Is this philosophy that hard to know

That what God has most thorough enjoyed

Is that creatures of mud from mud gold can grow


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Daily Poem # 1 – Legerdemain

Image result for legerdemain
Fractal Poems

Ergonomic

Economic

Very frugal my legerdemain

It’s a magic

That is clicking

Constant warmup

…clock is ticking…

You

Won’t catch up

It’s

The brain

Gotta balance some elixir esoteric as the East

So you pop and so you stumble in the service of the Beast


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She Sells Seahells – Part II (Original Story)

301 best Ship of the line & other navy wessels images on ...
Part I

I was throbbing. Absolutely throbbing as a billion points of grain pressed into the exposed skin of my arm and face. Slowly the blinding light receded. It was replaced by a voice.

A gruff reeking voice. “Git up…eh…you git!”

I groaned.

“Halstead! retch’d derelict…up wit ya!”

I stirred. The sound of surf met my ears.

I raised myself up on an elbow as my eyes adjusted to the dimmer light of the sun.

“Dis right… up with ye, noaw..”

I stumbled up and immediately started to laugh.

“Who…who…who the hell are you?”

“Poor layd wuts that damned merchants sold to ya….”

“What…” I really couldn’t contain my laughter…”What the fuck are you wearing…”

“Ewd tink the crown ken clad us better…” Now the stranger was laughing with me.

I examined him. This had to be some kind of joke. Buckled shoes, some kinda capris, and an oversized tunic covered in thick cascades of unkempt ginger beard.

“Who the fuck are you man…seriously..jokes is good and all but where’s Danny?”

“Yir wits gon! Is no danny mong us nor in town. Ir! Trink dis…”

He shoved a dirty bottle of clear liquid in my hand. I smelled it. Seemed like water. I was painfully thirsty and my body hurt something fierce.

Who the hell was this guy. ‘Oh shit.’ I looked down and realized I wasn’t shirtless…and where the hell were my trunks. I had some kind of coarse tunic and bedraggled leggings that itched and oppressed with coarseness. The thought of being disrobed by the likes of this guy didn’t sit well with me.

All right I yelled standing fully upright. “That’s a great prank and all but really who the hell are you where’s Danny…why did ya leave me here at night…I coulda drown…”

Danny’s bearded cohort shook his head. “Mi lord but wut were in diz ween! Names Yost…remember..I pulled ew from the waves diz how thenk me ken no remember me…Yost..Van Yost ye trink addled boi. Rememver you your own name o?!”

Something about all those vowels. Van Yost…

“Where’s Harris!”

“Gadverdamme…woke now r ya? Guid…Harris iz profound buzzi wit dayt geitenneuker Timurhan!”

“The artillery…!”

“Powder iz secure…Kapeetan Deaf vaunted to teech lesson to you.”

“I may well have drowned! And the powder!”

“Iz safe you fool boy…dat Castillian dogs run off when we a fired…why you let em drunk ya?”

“I had to enter into a confidence…I did…get the key to Harris…I MAY WELL HAVE DROWNED! LEAVE ME PON THE SHORE!”

I launched with fists. But the old salt was strong and large. I hadn’t realized how tall he was till his long arm held me at bay like a tantrauming child.

“Noaw I say to forgit me title iz pardonable but what gratitude iz this ye soaked rat…shoulda left you to the sharks…” He spit on me.

More and more I recollected things. I apologized profusely.

“Well…allz well noaw but do no take evrey chance for poison..ye liar…INTO A CONFIDENCE…INTO A CONFIDENCE…klerelijer!

“You say the Turk has loosed his tongue?”

“Aye.”


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She Sells Seahells – Part One – (Original Story)

Image result for vana katacic
Drink…Dr. Ink

I was breathless. I was ecstatic. The soft sand propelled me forward with a rhythmic dampened crunch. I was a little tipsy. My friend seven years my senior lagged far behind. Not only was he older, but the call center hadn’t exactly improved his stamina. I had run track in highschool and never stopped running.

My legs were thick and strong and the exhilaration of the liquid liberty of a 21st birthday had rendered my companion a distant spec barely visible on the horizon. I jumped into the foaming waves.

It was dark. There weren’t many hotels here just a few snooty residential houses. The water was warm beneath a pallid moon and a billion brilliant stars. I sloshed about taking in all the sensations of dr

ink and the unparalleled joy of a young disciplined body.

“Listen you ocean…you great salty fuck…you’re mine…you don’t scare me! I’ll swim you. I’ll drown you with my motion.”

I treaded water as I watched the shore. It was so still so calm. I’d been high a couple of times more than a couple…but I had never felt this good. I’d fucked and it had never felt this good.

The combination of alkaline numbness, runners high, and the balmy air of an oceanside evening was the sublimest birthday gift that I could have received.

O but there was more!

I saw somebody else as my gaze fell to my left.

A girl. It was dark but I knew it was a girl. I could tell by the hips even though she was wearing a hoody. It was three twenty AM. What was she doing out here. Maybe she’d come from one of those rich dudes house. Rich girls always had the best grass.

…and the best ass…

I sprang to my feet and jogged in her direction.

I’d made quiet a lot of sound on the approach and she had doubtless heard my commotion in the waves. Yet I was within a foot and she stood perfectly still. In fact as I got closer I realized that she hadn’t moved at all.

‘Did someone lose their real doll?’ I laughed out loud. A boisterous laugh fed by the virility of young adulthood and the lingering whimsy of adolescence.

Despite my laughing she did not move.

“Hey girl…hey!” I said leaping in front of her.

Stock still.

I was beginning to feel odd.

“Hey are you alright…” I was facing her now. Her head was cast down the hoodie obscuring her features beneath the feeble aid of a waning moon.

Nothing. No motion. No sound.

Except…was…was she sobbing? If she was. It was the faintest sob that I had ever heard.

“Hey…” I said reaching out my hand…”it’s going to be ok…what is it bitchy friends…dick boyfriend…” just as my fingertips made contact with her shoulder…she fucking screamed.

I mean really screamed. It wasn’t just any scream it was a shriek.

“Great…” I muttered sarcastically as I nursed my ears. “It’s going to be even more annoying hearing the cops ask stupid questions and suggest rapey intentions now that I’m deaf.”

It had really hurt. It had hurt in more than one way. It took it a while to fully take hold. But I was suddenly…sad…just really really sad. I felt hot tears streak like lightning down my face…they were salty…so salty and so hot…I was choking on them. I let out a long low wail.

I felt an oppressive blackness. I could see nothing. And hear nothing…and feel nothing except grief…grief that dragged me further and further down down till it gave way to sympathy an overwhleming sense of sympathy and I opened my arms…

The blackness receded. She was no longer wearing a hood. My friend was nowhere in sight. She was beautiful…her hair a jetty shimmering black…her skin pale and smooth as porcelain…the eyes were such a deep pale blue. She regarded me with so much understanding in those depths and her arms outstretched.

We embraced and I felt the world begin to whirl. Her skin was soft, silky, warm…her breath was sweet…but I could feel the sadness return…I could feel it increase with every thump I felt emerge from beneath her breast. Our heartbeats were syncing…like my heart was slowly being taught to keep rhythm with hers…with each pulse…I felt strange primordial pain…and it increased…till all was bright…blindingly bright and bare and reeling.

To be continued.


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Again Again (Original Lyrics and Song Demo)


The result of a brief little jam session I was able to squeeze in last night.

I made it on the fly and just now wrote down the lyrics for those who prefer poems to songs.

DAW (i guess it’s a DAW) – Audacity (Effects – compression, equalization, reverb (or echo IDR) )

Instruments – Guitar, Violin, Vocals


Lyrics

All the puzzle pieces are such familiar places

I use them to make traces of my past

And that’s the path I walk on

In repetitious circles

I just go round and round and round

Sometimes I think that

That I have found

 A line that is straight

But I’m still on the ground

I’m still going round

 O Yea

Wait a little while with me

Wait a little while and see

The magic of a symmetry

Of 3 and 6 and 0 degree

 

Is the wine any less fine

Just because you’ve tasted it

Once more

Once more

So come on by and knock on

And knock on my old door

So come on by and let’s sit

Let’s sit on my floor

Let’s pourout all the whiskey

Pour it into dirty cups

Let’s pull out a bit of a bit of something

That we never ever ever grow weary of

All these starry thoughts

Of forever… and above…. and beyond…. and between….

In the light of the trees

And the evenings cool cool cool breeze

I am waiting waiting you are waiting waiting

Why are waiting

Why are we frustrating

When we could

Be turning round as the wheel

And to feel what is real

Is the motion of eternal

Again … again


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Drink the Wine (Poem and Song)


So you’ve got some wine and you’ve got some time

But you just won’t drink it in

Cause you’re always waiting for some dream to begin

Yea excuse you need an excuse for each and every use

Cause tasting grapes for the sake of life

Is a foul abuse

So you take a knife

And cut a portion

Carefully and gingerly

To keep up with the notion

That you’d better be so very spare with joy

Because you can’t stare at the common fact

That we’re a million miles from Troy

And each and every act Is a circle and a line

So you’ll sit and wait and wait and wait

And you won’t drink the wine


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Miles from October (Poem)

 

Image result for row boat lost at sea
Image Source

 


I’m so terribly sober

Bone dry and miles from October

Baking in the southern air

Out here where the summers stare

One by one they are aligned

And their weapons are inclined

In morbid array

Pointing out the end of day

Day eh eh eh away o day

Where the waters no longer run

No prism is painted by the sun

I row – I row

I’m so terribly sober

Bone dry and miles from October

You sow

My sweet fictional tomorrow

You only beg and borrow

Time will show the circles full

As I row past

All Passing

Here there is no guessing

Where

I’m so terribly sober

Bone dry and miles from October

Well


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1982 – The Button – Doodle n’ Skit

1982 - The Button


John: But what?

Gus: But what, what?

John: What does it do?

Gus: It’s the button…

John: I can see that.

Gus: It’s not that… but the…

John: ‘The’ what?

 Gus: The button.


1982

Yea. It’s not the height of wit but I had fun doodling it out. Since there seem to be some parallels between today and the early eighties I felt it funny to dabble in nostalgia I’ve heard rather than lived.

Also, doodling is a great way to take your mind off an injury.