Monday, January 30, 2012



My mother had always been a busy woman. I remembered even as a baby hanging on to her legs, watching people race around her. She was always careful not to step on me with her fancy shoes and never was upset if I spit up on them. I was her angel, her perfect little boy. She took me on business trips and conferences. More than once, she had run out of diapers for me and just pinned a hotel towel on my bum until she had a chance to get more.
As I grew, she always had a place for me set up in her office. She always kept me close to her. I went from a blanket to a playpen to a cozy corner to a desk of my own. Each time, it was always portable and easy to move. I never paid much attention to my mother’s work until I was ten.
She seemed more stressed than usual. I had just finished my school assignments and made my way over into her workspace. She used to not have a workspace, but when I got to that talkative stage, she made a circle around her desk and told me I had to wait to be invited in before I spoke to her.
I hated that circle, especially today. I stood stoically waiting for her to look up from her desk. She had been snapping at the person over the phone, telling them good luck finding her and taking her down. She had slammed the phone down and started to cry. After two minute of frustration, I finally broke the rules and crossed the line, literally.
I moved to her side, touching her shoulder first to see if it was okay and then gently wrapping my arms around her. She cried into my side for a moment and pulled herself together. “You love me, baby, don’t you?” she asked me.
I smiled widely, “Of course, Mom, I love you the best.”
She pulled me into her lap, even though I was too big for it, and I let her. She gently moved the bangs from my face. “There are so many mean people out there, baby. I don’t ever want you to have to deal with them.”
“Is that why I always stay with you? Why I do school at home?” I asked.
She smiled widely, “That’s exactly why, baby. You’re so much better than them. They don’t deserve to know you.”
I gave her a hug, not fully understanding what she had said at the time and asked if I could play cars in her circle. She smiled, telling me yes and I quickly moved under the desk at her feet. Since I had learned to crawl, I spent my best times under her desk leaning on her legs as I played. I knew she was there and she knew I was there, too, but we were doing our own thing, just being together.
When I was fifteen, I obviously didn’t fit under the desk anymore, but that didn’t stop me from sitting on the floor next to her and leaning on the side of her leg as I read the latest novel she had picked up for me. She would frequently pat my head and smile down at me as we both worked in silence.
I was sitting behind the desk out of sight one night when someone came bursting into the office. I was about to get up to see who it was when she put her hand on my head and ushered me underneath her desk as she moved out from behind it.
“What are you doing here?” she asked in a strong angry tone. She didn’t sound afraid, which made me feel safe.
“I’ve come to ask you why you’re doing this, Grace. Why must you come after and destroy everything I worked for.”
She laughed at the man. I could tell she didn’t think he was funny, though. “You’re the one that told me five years ago that you would destroy MY LIFE, my business, everything! Do you remember that phone call? The one where you shouted at me! Threatened me! That was the day I decided to give up on you. That was the day I decided you would never be good enough for us and you needed to be taken out!” she shouted at him.
“So this is about vengeance. You’re one crazy bitch, you know that? You always have been and you’ll never take away my family’s business, I won’t let you! You were a poor whore when I met you and that’s all you’ll ever be to me!” he shouted back.
My mother started laughing again and I heard her walk over to her little mini fridge and get herself a bottle of water. “Oh, Carl, you’re so dense. Your ‘family’ business is already mine. Your grandfathers are dead, your uncle is gone, your father is senile, and I’ve proven that you have a drug problem and are not fit to run the business. So, as guardian of the only living heir, the business falls to me.”
I tried to process what she was saying, but I didn’t understand it.
“Heir?  There’s no heir, you crazy fucking bitch, what kind of shit have you been trying to pull?” he shouted. I heard something crash to the ground and quickly jumped up to save my mother, but she wasn’t the one that needed saving. She was the one that had thrown the vase at the guy.
The man wiped the water from his face and for the first time that evening, we got a good look at each other. I stood stunned, looking at the man before me. He had my nose, my eyes, my chin, my hair. I looked over at my mother confused.
“Richard, meet your son. His name is Taylor and he’s the new president of your company.  Now get out of my office.”
The man stood looking at me stunned. His eyes narrowed for a moment at my mother. “How long have you been planning this?”
She shook her head at him. “I didn’t, obviously,” she said motioning to me, “But here he is and we were content until you got pissy about me ‘stealing your business’ while trying to make a few deals. I was just trying to support our son!” she snapped. “When you threatened to ruin me, you threatened my baby as well and NO ONE messes with my son. Now get out. You brought this on yourself, you snobby, selfish, white-collared bastard. You just got owned by a backwoods waitress that you didn’t give two fucks about and never looked back at. Now get out!” she shouted.
He glared at her and then shot me another confused look before he ran out.
“Mom?” I asked.
She waved her hand at me, “Just, not now, please.”
I nodded and she went back to her seat at the desk and I sat down on the floor next to her, picking up my book as I leaned on her knee. She reached down, giving me a watery smile. “Never think that I haven’t always loved having you underfoot, baby. You’re the only reason I made something of myself. You made me fight to make our lives better so don’t ever for one second consider your existence a mistake,” she leaned down and kissed the top of my head.
“Was that jerk my dad?” I asked.
She let out a sigh, slouching in her desk chair. “Yes, and I loved him at one time, but I was never good enough for his family so he left and never looked back. Thankfully, he left me you,” she said cupping my cheek and I knew then that it didn’t matter who my father was. I would always have my mother.
At the age of eighteen, I took over my family’s business. There were some very disgruntled distant cousins that were sure they would get the Talcon throne, but there was no fighting direct linage. I was the heir; the stock shares and business were mine. My mother supported me and had been training me for this for the past eight years.  So even though I felt overwhelmed at times, I still knew what I was doing. She was always there to help me through everything.
When I was twenty-three, there was a woman from the local coffee shop that always smiled at me and just her smile made me feel good the rest of the day. My mother, being so close to me, noticed and I finally confessed to wanting to ask this Mandy girl out.
At the age of twenty-four, my mother cried at my wedding. Mandy was just a lowly coffee barista, but she made me happy and despite the board members’ protests, my mom insisted I do what made me happy and that was marrying my girl.
At twenty-five, I became a father. I had a son and suddenly the board didn’t care that Mandy wasn’t a snob; she had given them an heir. She was suddenly loved by all, but most of all, me. I liked to keep her close and finally convinced her to work as my personal assistant.
I stood from her chair and walked over to the cabinet to grab a map for my latest project as my son pulled himself up on her legs, looking at me through them. I couldn’t help but smile and remember my own safe place. I would give my son everything, just like my mother had given me. He would always have a person to lean on and a leg to stand with. He would always have us.

~Rose Von Barnesley


“Look, see here? I told you I had photographic evidence.” When I told my best friend Alanna not to date my brother it was for good reason. I want to keep her as my friend. I’ve lost plenty of friends my entire life because of him. I love my older brother but I know what most women don’t, He is a PLAYER! Yes, he good looking. Yes, he is a smooth talker. Yes, he can make you feel like the only woman in the world, but he also says makes every woman feel like that. He has been a ladies man since the day he was born. I was breast fed for my first 6 months of life. Mom says she breast-fed Matthew until he was 2! How crazy is that? He was the cutest baby and he knew it. Any woman who held him got their boob grabbed. Any woman who wore a skirt, Matthew found a way to get a good view. Now he has decided to put the moves on my best friend and I was going to do my best from preventing that from happening.

~ Selene de Modelo  

Thursday, January 5, 2012


Carlos was sick of people not believing he had a homing bull. Everyone was always going on about homing pigeons, but a homing bull was so much more secure and no one would intercept his bull and try and steal his message like a homing pigeon.
“Really, Juan, it’s the only way to go. No one messes with my homing bull.”
Juan rolled his eyes and looked at Diego, “You really think he trained a bull to bring him messages?”
“He’s nuts if he did. Why on earth would you do that?” Diego asked Carlos.
“Because it’s the most secure way to communicate.” Wasn’t that obvious to them?
“Have you ever tried email?” Juan asked.
“It can be hacked!” Carlos snapped throwing up his hands. His email getting hacked was the reason this whole bull idea came about. No one would ever post pictures of him and his Mrs. Fluffy all over the internet again! Thank heavens they believed they were photo shopped or else it would have ruined his political career. Truth was he often enjoyed bath time with Mrs. Fluffy and needed a new safe way to speak to her when he was away on government business.
“I don’t believe a man can have control over such a beast, Carlos. I’d like to see you call this homing bull of yours,” Diego challenged.
Carlos put his hands up and called his big friend, happy to see he was sporting a message for his master.
The giant beast came running and leapt over the first wall and was halfway over the second when he got stuck, but it was no matter. Carlos was close enough to grab the note.
“Fire wall, that’s all I’m saying,” Juan complained as the smelly beast farted right next to his face.
“Where can I get one of those?” asked a woman sitting behind them. “I could use a more secure way to communicate, too.”
Carlos smiled widely at his two friends like he had just proved his point as he removed the new picture of his naked Fluffy. Aw…he could wait to get home to her now.  His homing bull was the best idea he’d ever had.

~Rose von Barnsley


Ding Dong The Jerk Is Dead

I walked into work as I normally do on Mondays; sunglasses on, head down and hung over. I definitely did not want to be there, coming to work was getting harder and harder for me. Although I was popular in High School (for all the wrong reasons)coming to work always made me feel as if I never left that shitty Hicksville High.
As I clocked in hating life and hating my sleazy boss James; who would cop a feel anyway he could and always by “accident”, nothing I could ever nail him with. God how many times I wished he would crash and burn on his way to work, get hit by a bus, walk into a grocery store as it was getting robbed. Oh, how I day dreamed of ways to end his life. But every day he came to work,and my prays UNANSWERED.
Unfortunately for me my desk was next to the water cooler and Hansel and Gretel (Thats not their real names, I just never cared to learn their Aryan names)the gossips were hanging around the cooler blabbing away.
Hansel: Yes Gretchen, (so I was close) yes just like I say, we were all in Spain and James being da biggest nin com put ever, wore a red tie to da show. Ya, and we were sitting right dah in de front row. And all of da sudden James was gone and in his place was de giant bull. Ya and I could think of a betta person to have had dis happen to.
Gretchen/Gretel: What do you mean Hans? Where did he go?
Hans/Hansel: What? He’s gone Gretchen gone. The kila!(Sweddish for Jerk Off), he go to meet his makah. Ya.
Gretchen: He’s dead?
Hans: Hello? Missy Mc Fly have you not listen to de story? The bull run up onto him and he’s die.
Before I knew what I was doing, I jumped up shouting “What did you say Hansel?”
Hansel: Dat James die in Spain? He said as he shrugged his shoulders.
I jumped on him, wrapping my legs around him crying and shedding tears of joy. Blubbering “Thank you God, Thank you.” Then it occurred to me… Damn, Hansel is built!
Trying to control myself and regain some sort of composure,I slid off of him feeling something hit my “spot” I assumed it was his belt that was until I noticed a very prominent bulge in Hansel’s pants. He was definitely built in all the right places.
Right then and there I knew coming to work would take on a whole new meaning.


~ Victoria Maundrell