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First of all, thank you very much to Dierdre for allowing me to have this little space while Monsieur LaHaine is acting out Trent Reznor’s “Fragile” era persona in the desert of California. Perhaps he will also compose a piece of music as inspirational as “No, You Don’t” during his voyage. At least I will be able to communicate to you dear readers free from fear of the mighty bold capitals.

I am in consultation with my sister, who is a copyright lawyer, about what can be done in this instance. She has advised me to not say any more on this matter for the time being, including revealing Mr. Miller’s real world name (John A. Malm, Jr.).

In the meantime, I have decided to share a little poem I created hier soir, while I was drowning my sorrows in some crêpes suzettes with Madagascar vanilla ice cream at the local crêperie. It features a sample by someone else whose creativity I’m sure M. LaHaine would also annihilate if he could figure out a way past the firewalls of Robert Sheridan:

Il ne peut pas me voir en peinture
(dedicated to Monsieur La Haine)
par Mimi Jones-Taylor (featuring Monsieur Formidable)

I hate you Gabriel Miller.
I hate the very ground you walk on.
I hate that you destroyed my child with forty-six keyboard strokes.

You gave me a reason
You gave me control

I hate that you have stirred this beast within me; and she
Longs to pound you into the ground
As you raze my inspired spirit.

I gave you my purity
My purity you stole

This odium of yours
Yearns to be suppressed by a ball gag
Or do you fear the feelings rising inside your body?

Am I just too stupid to realize?

Je te jure, mon ami
Je vais te baiser
Jusqu’à tes lèvres commence à sainger.

It comes down to this
Your kiss
Your fist
And your strain it gets under my skin

Et encore
Tu me fends le coeur.

Posted by Mimi Jones-Taylor in mimi's_musings | Permalink


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Don't worry, Mimi. As surely as Trent is the hottest man on fucking earth, your story will be posted, SO HELP ME GOD.

In the meantime, let's have some fun this week. I think we can find some ways to repay Gabriel for his evil, censoring ways here on WTC...

Posted by: Dierdre | Aug 16, 2005 8:26:55 AM

Hey Sis! Thought I'd make a comment, and let you know that I'm sending you much love. Fuck that little peyote-loving fucker. Fuck him all to hell!! And I hope you and Dierdre completely renovate the site while the little fucker's off rolling around with a cactus...hey, I warned you about that RW name thing, didn't I? Oh well, nobody listens to lawyers anyway... xox

Posted by: Buttercup J. | Aug 16, 2005 8:34:37 AM

Je t'aime, mon amie! Je t'adore, je t'adore.

Posted by: Kim | Aug 16, 2005 11:19:12 AM

yes let us have some fun this week. Strange things will be afoot at WTS.

Posted by: Kate | Aug 16, 2005 11:26:07 AM

Hmm... didn't I comment? Oh well, I'll comment again when I get home. Heh.

Posted by: Kim | Aug 16, 2005 11:48:09 AM

And completely ignore that comment. For some reason (I hate my school's macs), even clearing the cache didn't let me see my first comment. :(

Posted by: Kim | Aug 16, 2005 11:49:05 AM

So is this the eye of the hurricane or what? Because I'm shivering with an...ticipation. Or I've got too much time on my hands...

Posted by: maise | Aug 16, 2005 6:26:39 PM

Kate, I love how you mixed WTC and ETS in your acronym.

Posted by: Dierdre | Aug 17, 2005 2:17:28 AM

Merci, mesdames, for your support and comments! And maise, there is an old Jamaican saying about this time of year (hurricane season): "June, too soon. July, standby. August, a must. September, remember. October, all over." Since Hurricane Hatred has blown into the desert, I only hope we can safely move towards September...the month of l'amour!! Grosses Bises, tout le monde!

Posted by: Mimi | Aug 17, 2005 5:32:54 AM

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