To be a whore is a sin. It's horrible to be a whore. We call women, whores, sluts, cunts, bitches. To me these words are nothing. They really mean nothing and are not gender specific. I think we've come to a point in time, where gender lines are blurred, along with roles for gender. Children are told they can be anything when they grow up. It used to be false, girls could be secretaries, school teachers, housewives. Now it's time for us to take the bull by the horns. We will be what we want to be. And EVERYONES A WHORE! In their own way we are all whores to someone or something. It's time to change. Women look down upon eachother. We degrade eachother we fight against eachother. Fuck this shit. We need to be friends. We need to join together as sisters. Everyone is beautiful in someway. Quit looking in a Mirror and pointing out your imperfections, find what's beautiful. When a woman is being treated nasty, stand up for her. Let her know you think she's intelligent, beautiful. Look at people in a more positive manner. Sexuality is feared. We need to make a full circle. There should be no fear or scorning. If it was eariler in time. I would be cast out. I would have been tossed aside. Why because I am a survivor of rape. It wouldn't have been considered that because I wouldn't have had rights over my own body. I don't think we should look down upon eachother because some people are more free with their sexuality. It's they way they are. They can still wear white on their wedding day. It's not about virginity. What a patheitic gift. I don't know if pathetic is the right word. But it's a little assanine. I give my body to you. No, it's your body. Not someone elses. Besides what's the man giving you? If he has a hand he's doubtfully a virgin. Why instead of focusing on a sex organ we give something greater. Devotion. Heart. That is a greater gift. Love. I give you undying love. I give you devotion and dedication. I will stand by you and help support you. That is what love should be about. So what if someone is more free with their body. Personally I'm not one of these people. I've never been to free. It's the way of my family, we're not crazy religious, we're not taught that to sleep around is to be a whore, we're just taught to be safe if we do it. No the problem is that we are not a affectionate family. So affection is more difficult. Though when given it is more special. Why am I on this topic. Reading Jack the Ripper case closed, talking about "unfortunates" Women who are whores. Women who drank to get through their days. Women who couldn't live because they weren't backed by a man. Couldn't survive as a single woman. Perhaps to become a nun, but if you had children and were left by a husband. Well you had no choice truly. Unless you wanted to work a sweatshop and get paided nothing. Which I will say, one of the women wasn't a whore she was a working woman. To even try to work which you would do till late, could get you shoved into a lockdown, because you might be caring a sexual disease, which could be spread to the military men. So lock up the women who are out late. Kill the women out late. Blame and discourage the women out late. So this got me thinking about whores. Which I am a whore. I am one. I don't care. I am strong, independent, beautiful. I'm a bitch, I'm a cunt, I'm a whore.

Lyndal Faye Jenkins


Unknown "Portia" Feisty - 16 years, 1 month, 25 days ago

With the Presidency election comming up in the past I know people who have said...well I’ll vote for the lesser of two evils. I think it’s time we stop. Why don’t we vote for the ultimate evil.

First I’ll start where everyone is What/Who is Cthulhu? He is an invention of the wonderful H.P. Lovecraft. An amazing horror writer. He is a mythical being, one of the great old ones. He is the extreme horror of evil. What does this ultimate evil look like you ask me. This is from an artists strange dream: "yielded simultaneous pictures of an octopus, a dragon, and a human caricature.... A pulpy, tentacled head surmounted a grotesque and scaly body with rudimentary wings." The next description is from a police raid from a murderous cult. "represented a monster of vaguely anthropoid outline, but with an octopus-like head whose face was a mass of feelers, a scaly, rubbery-looking body, prodigious claws on hind and fore feet, and long, narrow wings behind." Though these are only dreams and stones with drawings...The creature was actually released and seen. Though he is something that cannot be described the poor witness tries his best: "the green, sticky spawn of the stars", with "flabby claws" and an "awful squid-head with writhing feelers". The phrase "a mountain walked or stumbled" gives a sense of the creature’s scale. Cthulhu is dead and not dead. It lies in it’s city of R’lyeh dreaming. He has many people worshiping Cthulhu. That waits for him to call so they may free Cthulhu. Who lies dreaming. Why vote for the lesser of two evils. Go for the ultimate. Vote Cthulhu!

Ph’nglui mglw’nafh Cthulhu R’lyeh wgah’nagl fhtagn
In his house at R’lyeh dead Cthulhu waits dreaming

Cthulhu Fhtagn
Cthulhu waits....Cthulhu dreams

Oh Cthulhu we love thee!
Unknown "Portia" Feisty - 16 years, 1 month, 25 days ago

The highest percentage of natural redheads in the world is in Scotland (13%), Followed closely by Ireland with 10%. In the US, about 2% of the population are natural redheads. ~ Yes I'm just that rare!

Shades of red hair as listed

Champagne: very light redheads

Strawberry Blonde: light reddish blonde

Red: range of light bright metallic and shiny red

Auburn: dark red

The ancient Eqyptians paid homage to they god Osiris by burying redheaded men alive.~ funny I have a cat Osiris...

Pagan witches thought the fat of a redhead was a vital ingredient for a host of unsavory spells. (Good thing I don't have fat) Redheads were throught to have an aura of magnetism and mystic power in a free floating.

Redheads "are deemed to be emotional slaves of our colouring as no other group" Short temper and sexual fieriness are attributed to them. In France, to be redheaded is thought to be a fate so desired that some women have formed a PROUD TO BE RED association. Harvard dermatologist Madhu Pathak calls redheads "three time losers" because their red pigment is an inadequate filter of sunlight and their skin is more susceptible to sunburn, skin cancer, and wrinking with age. ~ I say their just JEALOUS! Also we aren't because of these facts we actually WEAR SUNSCREEN. Meaning we are less likely to wrinkle, get skin cancer, or burn. We're smart!

In 1960, a contributor to the journal of the British Folklore Society wrote: "Before the ship was due to sail, I became aware of muttering outside my door. I asked the captain what it was all about and...he replied that the (Men in the) fo'castle did not want to sail with a strange red-haird woman aboard especiall as the cargo was iron ore" ~Guess we're unlucky to sailors HA~!

Red hair is a genetic mutation~I really am a mutant....I'll go join x-men.

A 2002 study found that redhead are harder to sedate than any other people requiring twenty percent more anesthesia, Inadequate doses cause people to wake up during surgery and have incresed recall of procedures. ~ Who wants to wake a redhead up during surgery, can you imagine the fury?

Redheads don't turn grey! Red hair turned sandy, then white. They are also found to loose their color later in life than people carrying other hair colors.

The perception of the color red, scientifically speaking, enhances the viewers metabolism and increses heart rate and respiration. ~Look at me and loose weight!

The first redheaded British monarch was a woman. Boudicca was a Celtic warrior who led her people, the Icenti, against the Romans in C.E. 60's. ~of course we were batting people! Temper, temper.

An Irish judge in 2001 fined a man for disorderly conduct stating "I am a firm believer that hair coloring has an effect on temper and your coloring suggests you have a temper." ~ Who me????

Adolph Hitler reportedly banned the marriages of two redheads as he feared their children would be "Deviant offspring". ~Wow even Hitler supposedly feared us.

In Greek Mythology, redheads turn into Vampires when tthey die.~hee hee hee.

Aristotle was known to believe that redheads were emotionally unhousebroken.~Never have been tame!

The country name of Russia means "land of reds" in honor of a redheaded viking by the name of Rurik.


Unknown "Portia" Feisty - 16 years, 1 month, 25 days ago

Gambling debt. Don't kill just threaten read the piece of paper and a schedual of the poor saps daily routein. "Fuck," thought Vega, "what am I a hired thug? This is bullshit." She threw the paper down with anger. Then picked it back up. "The pays decent." Vega pondered to herself. She thought some more over the supposed hit. Things had been a bit slow. Not that she really needed the money...though...She tossed it around. Meh might be nice to not kill for once. An actual fight and what macho man would claim to being beaten by a girl. So no fear of being turned into the police. With this she went into the bathroom, showeredand put in a blonde temporary hair dye. Green eye contacts, and stage prostectis. Now for some teeney bop make-up. She thre on a knee length black skirt and a simple white polo shirt. She grabbed a black bag and filled it with hidden neccessities. Vega went to the first mark listed. She caught the back of his head as he kissed his wife goodbye. He had three younger childern, who looked oddly familar. Though she swore she had never seen the children before. She waited at the bus stop No driving for her as Krista. The next mark listed, she couldn't make in time so it's off to the mans work downtown. Check out the buildings. Pretend to do some shopping, wait until the man was out of work. Then attack. He was listed as always being out of work last. The fool. Three high school boys got on. Vega rolled her eyes. "Great, just what I needed." She popped head phones in her ears, within temptation began to play. The boys approached her. she was one bodys lips move from the corner of her eye. This seat taken was being mouthed. While his two friends took the seat next to her. Her music droned on loudly. Bumac wailed his sorrow in her ears. A tap on the shoulder. Vega looked up still listening to a high falsetto her cold eyes questioned. He seemed to be wanting her to remove the earphones. She pointed casually to several empty seats. Discouraged and annoyed the boy who was only 17 at the most sat on the edge of Vega's seat and slid her body over. She thought of breaking his nose. Then remembered she was on a mission and Krista wouldn't think of doing such a thing. "I'm sick and tired of being sick and tired, I used to go to bed so high and wired. Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah..." A strong hand yanked the ear phon from her left ear. Their green eyes met. His almost hidden under dark hair. "Whos is this he asked?" None of your damn business. She thought. "Oh, it's just Ozzy. my boyfriend got me hooked." A sweet smile on her face as she spoke timidly. "Boyfriend uh oh." smiled the kid, his bottom teeth looked as if they'd been in a bar brawl. Some as if they were actually trying to escape the halitosis of his breath. "tic tac?" Krista asked as she took two and deposited 5 into his hand as he offered it to her. " What are you doing out today?" The boy continued to question as the tic tac's rolled in his mouth. On a hunt for blood. " Out shopping." Ava Maria began to play. Vega loved this song. It was the last thing played before her father died. She clinched and unclinched her fists several times. She took out a sour candy drop. The boy smiled again, "don't mind if I do." he said matter o' factly. He squirted half the bottle in his mouth. She could have been sent into convolutions at how hard she was laughing inside. Ah yes today he'd be quite uncomfortable all day. She took the bottle and her mp3 player. She stood and walked past the kid. It looked as though she tripped, in all actuallity she took the kids knee for a huge bruise. As the bus stopped Vega got off with a glance back. He was already getting sick. Twenty blocks away from the gamblers work. She still had a quite a few hours till he was off work. She stopped in a local bistro. ordered a cup of coffee and a meal of bacon and eggs over easy. A few looks here and there. The meal was cheap enough to not raise suspicion. She passed a few hous there enjoying some people watching. She paid and went on her way. It was still early. Two hours till noon. No chance of catching a glimpse for a lunch breack. He ate in the office of a meal his wife cooked. Seemed like the perfect home and the ideal of the American dream. She started to think of her life before her father died but quickly pushed that away. There was no room for such blunders on the job. It caused one to be careless. She reached four blocks away. She could see the tall silver building reflecting in the sunlight. Vega checked her time five hours left. She walked the four blocks, music, books, food, oddities, weapons. She marked off the shops of interest to her. Finally she reached the building. It had other shops inside the building. Wonderful a perfect reason to explore. She circled the building once noting all escapes and entered the building start as the bottom and work you way up she intently looked over the guiding sign. As she worked her way up she marked where everything was. Now it was time to play dumb. She climbed in the elevator and pushed a button to the offices level. Time to get a look at the man. She only had a name. She hit the business level and tried to act inconspicious. Vega had made it just right until..."Fuck not a flash back! Not now." Though everything remanded the same. the man she was to beat looked exactly like her father. A little older, but the same which included the scar that protruded from his shirts neckline. The man looked up and their eyes connected. Time seemed to stand still. Though in a flash of a secong Vega was back. She grabbed the nearest person. "I'm looking for Doctor Baron's office do you know what level that is? I think I'm just a little lost." She smiled sweetly. With that she was on the elevator on her way down. She took a back way out from the Dr.'s office. Once outside she walked three blocks to the bookstore. Old, quiet she made her way back to a secluded asile. Vega passed a couple making out. Seriously what is today's youth comming too. She sighed a deep breath of musty air. On mission...She can't contact anything of Vega's. She was Krista. Rough him up that's all don't question him on why he's still alive. With a new name, family...That bastard didn't realize what he'd done by dying. What he put her through. Her hands traced the scar hidden on her head. Vega took a few more deep breaths rage welling up inside of her. She started to browse throuigh the books. Time passed slowly in the book shop. Until the sun was set. Everybody cleared out the building. She waited by his car in the parking lot. No camera hit her. Even if it did Krista was not a real person. Foot steps echoed. He was right on time. "You again." he said. "I have a message to deliver to you." Vega's voice was cold and calm. With those very few words. She punched him in the gut, right below the sternum knocking the wind out of him. As he bent over she brought her knee to his nose. Vega felt a warm rush of blood as a snap rang throughout the air. She lifted the man and headbutted him right in the eyebrow. an elbow to the collar bone. The man didn't even fight back. She finished and tossed him to the ground. Vega looked him over, the man who was once her father. Daddy I love you. Come back home, daddy. "Pay your debt and for the sake of your NEW family quit gambling." Her words were thick and more like daggers than her actual physical damage. She took out sissors and cut off the part of the skirt covered with blood and burned it there. She was being less careful than usual. Most likely because it was an actual attack not a murder. "Do I know you?" the man remained calm through the choking blood. Though his words went unanswered as the girl was already gone. She went streight back to her safe house. This might have been a set up she thought.
Unknown "Portia" Feisty - 16 years, 1 month, 25 days ago

I'm not exactly sure where this is going. The time is extremly jumbled. So I'm slowly piecing together the who what when and wheres. I don't know if she's an assassin, or just plain murder. Not yet. I'm learning. Eventually I'll know when it's all done. When this idea came to me for a short scene or a play I thought that was it no more. Then about 3 years later the character came back. I promise, that after I figure out whats going on I will let you know. I'll put it all together. It will be one big long mess. It won't flow nicely at all. Then I will read through and look at what it says. I'll keep the same message and piece together everything else. A good balance between conversation and description. It's going to be delivered in one of my weakness' which is an actual story.With one swing she broke the kids nose. "You stupid bitch," he cried through sobs. The teacher came running "Steve are you okay? Who Punched him?" Spotting the only boy within a few feet she went to what she assumed to be the source. "Josh, why'd you do that?" A strong voice broke the silence "He didn't," answered Victoria "I did." Her eyes focused on the teachers, they had a pain in them. "I'm glad, you don't want your friend to get into trouble, but no girl could or would act in such a barbaric manner." The teacher answered passing her off as nothing. Victoria was furiated at the old world thoughts that her school, in which she used the term lightly, held. A private school she was sent to for socialization as she became older. Actually the reason was to get her away from home. She was thirteen years old. Little did the morons who taught the school know, she had martial arts training. Her father wanted her to defend herself as learn disipline at the same time. She found fighting far more invigorating than her mothers silly charm school. She hater and despised the debutante ways. It didn't fit the warrior training. Everyday grew harder as of the age of ten her father died leaving her alone. Her mother was a little to quick to remarry. Victoria found the man to be wonderful at first but all wolves wear sheeps clothing. Slowly she noticed a change. It started with weird comments. Such as an outfit looking ugly, needing more make-up, to be more girly, put more time into appearance. These directed towards both her and her mother. She handeled it fine bassing the comments off as a blind stupidity in his eyes. Her mother though was much harder. She dyed her hair, changed her style of clothes, and went as far as cosmetic surgery. Which resulted in a botched boob job. After the rejection her body gave her mother tryed again. Anything to please that man. Victoria could smell the bastard lying and cheating on her mother. Warned her mother about it. Though she was just to weak. So seeing her mother act as this Victoria started to work hard against male descrimination. Though all the while an animosity started to build. A huge rift fell in between her mother and herself. After the insults, started the actual physical abuse. By this time the mental had done it's job. Her mother took it, make excuses, blamed herself and defended that man.One night at Victoria's three in the morning swim an event took place that would change her life. That man found her and he was angry. So he took and silently invaded the water. Victoria with her eyes closed didn't know what hit her as she was shoved under the water her hair was in the locks as he drug her scalp and all to the shallower end. There he started to bash her head against the pool side. Victoria's hair became matted with her scalp. She struggled to grab something. She was frantic, not in control of her actions. She started to swing wildly. Striving to grab something, anything to get free. She felt a searing pain and her eyes went red. Her struggle and his grasp resulted in part of a scalping. Her hair he had in his hand pulled her scalp loosened by the pool edge out. The good thing was she was finally free. She took a deep breath. Wiped the blood away as much as possible and went to kill him. Any Pressure point, crack a sternum, puncture a lung with a rib, shove the nose bone into the brain. Anything, she was organized. He was blinded by rage. She found the pool cleaner and used it as a staff, hitting as best as she could she knocked him out. With this she grabbed the life perseve and took the rope off and tethered his hands together behind his back. Victoria shoved his body into the pool face down to drown him. Even if he did wake she now had the upper hand. She laughed to herself and though pun intended. Her blood had filled the pool. It was starting to look like a shark attack had happened. She was seeing nothing but red. Killing felt so good. Her mothers scream pierced the air. their eyes met and locked. Victoria pleaded with her mother, promised her freedom, all through her eyes. Her mother dove into the water. From that moment Victoria is unsure of what happened next. All she remembers is waking up in a private hospital her long hair shaved off. Her mother explained to the doctors a tragic accident happened that involved alcohol. Victoria was futher angered and sent away to this damn school.


Unknown "Portia" Feisty - 16 years, 1 month, 25 days ago