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PostPosted: Sun May 02, 2010 10:23 am 
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:D MOAR!


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PostPosted: Mon May 03, 2010 9:25 am 
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If you experience an erection lasting longer than four hours, seek medical attention immediately... :lol:

Great addition!

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PostPosted: Tue May 04, 2010 12:21 am 
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Stoooooooory.


....moooar...


:mrgreen:


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PostPosted: Fri May 07, 2010 6:49 am 
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Man I need a fix.....MOAR!


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PostPosted: Fri May 07, 2010 2:56 pm 
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Moar! and soon!

Because we need our fix, we´re basically junkies runnin dry! :twisted: :wink:


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PostPosted: Wed May 12, 2010 7:33 am 
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NEED MOAR !!!! Urge to KILL slowly rising..............


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PostPosted: Sat May 15, 2010 7:39 am 
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*Bump* TTT


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PostPosted: Sat May 15, 2010 8:01 am 
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PostPosted: Sun May 16, 2010 4:11 pm 
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FrANkNstEin wrote:
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just...not...right


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PostPosted: Wed May 19, 2010 12:16 am 
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This...Is such a great story! I will admit, I was a little turned off by the gritty main character at first but as the story evolved ..WOW such a great job at sequencing and flow, are you a prof. writer or amateur?
Regardless, thank you for the entertainment so far, please consider seeking publishing sir!
(btw love the Hunter S. Thompson tributes 8) )


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PostPosted: Thu May 20, 2010 8:56 am 
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Well it's been 18 days with out an update.............There either better be one hell of a post in the near future or I'm gonna assume that the OP is dead, or undead. :mrgreen:


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PostPosted: Thu May 27, 2010 12:29 am 
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:evil: Darnit no new updates??? lol
moar?


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PostPosted: Thu May 27, 2010 11:45 am 
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Oh No!

I guess he wanted to taste a bit of the main characters life and has problems to sober up now.... :mrgreen: :lol:


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PostPosted: Fri May 28, 2010 8:35 am 
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Sorry guys.

I am working on getting my flow back. Life, that bitter tongued cunt-harridan, has dug her talons into my head and shaken me up a bit. I am okay, and definitely not undead.

If you are interested in my bitch ass excuses in detail with even more overwriting, check out my blog. You do read my blog right? It makes me squee.

Believe it or not, I do have another chapter started.

ETA LINK http://scumfuckinbabylon.blogspot.com/2010/05/what-in-hell-happened-to-jon-mackey.html

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Last edited by by-the-throat on Fri May 28, 2010 9:16 am, edited 1 time in total.

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PostPosted: Fri May 28, 2010 8:56 am 
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I´m sorry, i must´ve missed your blog? Care to toss a link? :D

lifes a bitch sometimes!

I´m glad you didn´t abandon the story, i´m fine with waiting but it would´ve been sad if you just stopped writing!


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PostPosted: Sun May 30, 2010 10:23 pm 
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Good to hear that all is okay, or at least not not okay...

The story you're writing is an ass-kicker. I'm lined up to read moar whenever you get your groove back. Can't wait!

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PostPosted: Tue Jun 01, 2010 7:11 pm 
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yeah man, we can all empathize with life kicking our asses :) Just glad your making it however you happen to be!
I for one, am lined up to read moar as you feel like kicking the shit out, this story fucking OWNS so far man, one question, are you including zombies in this or no? just wondering

Thanks again bro
Peace


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PostPosted: Fri Aug 06, 2010 10:38 pm 
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Kick-ass story! I'm definitely getting into the anti-hero motif, particularly how he stradles the hero/scumbag line. Never thought someone could so many drugs and still be lucid but it's so well written I don't have any issues suspending my disbelief.

Looking forward to the next installment. Bummer about the i-net restrictions at work. Do they have the usb ports locked down, too, so you can't save off files?

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PostPosted: Sat Aug 07, 2010 7:33 am 
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I thought about leaving a comment at his blog, but he hasn't been there either in a couple months so I think he has abandoned that also.

boo hoo!


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PostPosted: Sat Aug 07, 2010 8:13 am 
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kaijafon wrote:
I thought about leaving a comment at his blog, but he hasn't been there either in a couple months so I think he has abandoned that also.

boo hoo!


Actually, he posted something on his blog today already - just not on the posting about John Mackey. If you go to his home page you see the new post.

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PostPosted: Sat Aug 07, 2010 1:44 pm 
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GotMak wrote:
kaijafon wrote:
I thought about leaving a comment at his blog, but he hasn't been there either in a couple months so I think he has abandoned that also.

boo hoo!


Actually, he posted something on his blog today already - just not on the posting about John Mackey. If you go to his home page you see the new post.


ah, ok, I thought that WAS his homepage! lol! I'll go looksie again


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PostPosted: Fri Dec 30, 2011 11:05 pm 
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Just tossing this out, but if you have another chapter for Mr. Mackey, I think we would be happy to read it. Its only been, what, 18 months or so?

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PostPosted: Sat Dec 31, 2011 2:29 am 
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Let me tell you what Jon Mackey knows about strippers.

There would be nothing wrong with strippers if they were in other professions, though many of them come into the industry bent like a rusty coat hanger in the first place. But you take a girl who has been valued for only her hotness all her life, and put her in a situation where she is in direct competition with other hot girls for a quantifiable monetary reward, depending only on her attractiveness vis-a-vis the attractiveness of all the other girls, and you have a stewing, perfume scented recipe for tanned anarchy with nail polish coated nipples. Most of them are fairly normal, meaning boring, until they start getting objectively rated every night against all the other girls in the club.

I've dated a few strippers and fucked several more, and I have often been at the 4am "staff meeting" at steak and shake while they chatter and compare profits and posture and push their fucking fries around on a plate instead of eating. I usually made great money myself on those nights, though it has nothing to do with my devonair good looks-a group of stressed out post work strippers loaded with raw cash is the ripest market for anybody with a big bag of pills and no concerns with the law. But to do it I had to gain an understanding of the subculture and sometimes I think it cost me part of my sanity.

I have to say-this might have been one of those times.

With the mob returning, of course, I had no time to contemplate sociology. Not being able to see them was maddening; a big honking HVAC hood was blocking my way. Ideally of course, it was blocking their view as well-just as I had relied on it to block the view of the parking lot if I was blazing a doob or getting a hummer from one of my ex's friends. That thought alone gave me the courage to inch forward on my stomach towards the roof hatch, a matte black square just behind the AC hood.

There was a soft scraping noise as my companions scrambled up behind me, also keeping to their stomachs and moving carefully in the darkness. The sounds of the mob were closer and there were more shots going off. The rifle barrel poking out of the hatch didn't wobble a bit, trained squarely on me. I looked hard at the eyes behind it, wide, terrified brown eyes, hoping to figure out who it was. No luck. I never look a stripper in the eye when I'm fucking them.

Then I finally caught a break. "Jon!?!?" came the familiar voice.

"Cristal?" I derped in surprise, too loud. "What the hell are you..." Phebe pinched my leg, hard.

"Keep it down," she hissed at me, and chastised, I dropped my voice.

"Can we come in?" I asked Cristal. When the barrel didn't move, I added "I have a couple of benzos..." That worked like a charm. She shuffled the hatch up and lowered the rifle barrel. In the vague gloom, I crawled forward and made an undignified flop into the hatch onto the ladder. The sawed off started to slide down my pants and I had to do some fancy shuffling to keep it from blowing off my dick. In case you were wondering, incidentally, still hard even after all this time. God help me.

The three of us got down the ladder pretty quickly, though Cesare was wheezing before he made it to the bottom. There was about an inch of water on the floor and the lights were out. In the dim circle of Phebe's flashlight I got my first good look at Cristal. She was shaking pretty bad and her spray tan had faded into a carroty pallor; there were also dark circles under her eyes. The clothes she wore didn't fit, men's clothes, a suit jacket and blue jeans. Understandable-I wouldn't want to survive the apocalypse in a miniskirt and a g string either.

You know what I didn't expect, though? The reek of shit. Normally you expect a strip club to smell like booze and perfume and maybe cigarette smoke in civillized places where you could smoke inside-but here the smell of shit was overwhelming. I hadn't noticed it on the way down, but here at ground level I could feel my stomach quease hard to the left while my throat jimmied hard to the right and I had to struggle to keep the two from overpowering me. It was thick and had that particular bloating dead frog smell I associated with the old outhouse behind Dad's trailer. It was old shit, and lots of it. I saw Phebe crinkle her nose, and Cesare, already not in the best shape, had already turned away to heave the contents of his stomach onto the tile patterned floor.

Cristal was shaking so bad that I was also struggling with an uncharacteristic urge to comfort her. Dr. Mackey did the best he could for her; he handed her two pink benzos. She chased them with muddy water from a white five gallon bucket.

"That explains the shit smell," said Phebe grimly. When I looked at her, she explained. "They've all been drinking unfiltered rainwater. This is now official the Grand Central Station of Dysentery." She was shaking a bit too, but mostly I was wondering how the hell she managed to stay so cool. In the disatance I could hear more gunshots and a few of the rounds were hitting the building's brick front in a symphony of vrrrrp-whump-whump-whump. There wasn't much time.

Phebe cast her flashlight around the joint. There were five or six girls here, all of whom were lying on the stage where the water hadn't reached. All of them were piled up on musty old costumes-here a faux fur coat for a Marilyn Monroe burlesque act, there a fake bearskin rug for Ski Bunny Night, and a fluffy bunny costume that I frankly had no desire to know the purpose of. It was a sad and pitiful sight-and the hell of it was I didn't see Rachel anywhere. Still, these were maidens in need of rescue, and I walked over to the stage to get a closer look. The Snow White effect was ruined when one of them farted, rippling the shower curtain she was sleeping under, but I crept closer anyway. Seven girls, in fact, eight if you counted Cristal-but no sign of the ex. I turned around to look at my companions again.

"What happened here?" I asked, more demandingly than I need to.

Cristal looked a lot calmer with a couple of pinkies in her. Her eyes had cleared up and she had stopped shaking, and she had shouldered that rifle comfortably in the crook of her arm while she drank greedily from Phebe's bottled water. "God, I'd forgotten what non muddy water taste like," she said, and sat down hard on a barstool. "They probably won't wake up-most of them have been shitting their guts out all day." Her blonde hair, limp and bedraggled, hung in front of her face and masked her expression. She didn't bother pushing it away. "We had customers up until about 18 hours ago. Jake tried to kick them all out then and close down the shop but we had no way to get home and neither did they."

"Where the fuck is Jake?" I interrupted, looking around. The club's musclebound doorman was nowhere in sight.

"He went out to confront them when they came back with guns," she said, and looked away. I dropped the issue and she continued without prompting. "We ran out of beer a long time ago so we've been drinking rainwater off the roof. No food left either. Eva had the DT's and she left but everyone else stayed."

"What about Rachel?"

"She left with some guy, just before the mob got back. I think they were heading to his place." She looked around, crinkled her nose, and said "Lucky bitch."

"Okay," said Phebe, assuming command and with my unspoken blessing, "first thing to do is get them on their feet. Jon?"

"Already on it," I said smugly, and broke out the coke. Hey, how often do you get the chance to actually use your superpower? I still didn't know what I'd do about Rachel...but apparently the new Jon Mackey wasn't just going to leave a bunch of strippers to their fate. Damn-I wonder what my dad would have to say to that?

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Last Call, Last Stand - The Crystal Menage - SF in Babylon - REMC Guide


Last edited by by-the-throat on Mon Jan 02, 2012 3:48 am, edited 1 time in total.

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PostPosted: Sat Dec 31, 2011 2:38 am 
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Sorry for the long silence, folks, but I wasn't about to show my face in this thread again without another update. :oops:

Glad that folks are still kind of following this story. Man, it's a different ZS than when we started out here together, isn't it? I guess I don't even need the FICTION tag in the subject line anymore, do I?

In case you have been wondering about my renewed late night meanderings on this forum, I've beaten my work filter again. Privoxy 1, CBTT 2, bitches. I'll try to keep up with posting on this story but keep in mind I'm refining a manuscript for submission at this time as well and I have a few other irons in the fire blog-and-writing wise so they won't be cranked out as fast.

If you're still hungry after this update, check out some of DannusMaximus' work in the fiction section here and here - these have been some of my favorite ZS reads for some time. I'm also enjoying this bit so far. (I know, I know, "Why are you going around writing critiques of other people's shit and not working on your own?" :P )

You can also check out the preview for Codex Kalachnikova-you know, if you want to go with something that is the exact opposite of LCLS.

Thanks for reading guys.

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Last Call, Last Stand - The Crystal Menage - SF in Babylon - REMC Guide


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