Southern Appalachian Digital Collections

Western Carolina University (20) View all

Western Carolinian Volume 60 Number 20

items 14 of 24 items
  • wcu_publications-15569.jpg
Item
?

Item’s are ‘child’ level descriptions to ‘parent’ objects, (e.g. one page of a whole book).

  • Continued from Page 3 those girls, she's got thoee brand of legs that can do outward splits to the side, great, the bitch has radial movement!), now, Christy put ken on top of her.,the bitch is gettin' sex in front of my eyes and Christy's helpin' ken go through the motions, there is one thing different about this heifer here, i haven't heard a soul from her. not a peep, i don't understand that just like i don't understand all the things Christy picked up from Across the Street, bad influence, very bad influence, i think (ahhhh) excuse me, i'm sleepy all of a sudden, what was i saying? oh, oh yeah, i think Christy and Betty Lou are up to something, i felt it in Bathtub Beach especially when we were all together in the tub and they stopped playing with us for awhile and they started playing with each other, freaky little (ahhh) bitch.... zzzzzzzz Ahhhhhhh!!!!! whoo, what a rush!! where am i, goodness do i feel good!! who is this fine piece of latex on top of me? damn, i don't know but he's good whoever he is. boy, who's the human? who cares just as long as she doesn't stop plastic man's rhythm? i think i'm gonna like this life, it's not Across the Street, but Betty Lou never had dudes like this, white boy got back, yep, i think this is Plastic City, it looks like it. from all the things i've seen in the catalogs, this is it. Plastic City, can't beat it. | ; THE END ^Inmcdl "HOT by Meschach McLachlan Two headed at first, one in a white t-shirt Is smaller than the other, who stretches like a pea against a melon. Page 4 2/16/95 The boy moves out of what is visible. I hear him: "A dalmatian. A dalmatian. It's already hot! My name Is Harold Auto Tuck." The Fat Lady chews her finger at him. They join and leave together, his feet, like a withered limb, _§way weighted behind. The sun beats down upon my form, thinking to warm my icy flesh. Does the Sun-Bringer not realize that though my heart yet beats within my breast, I am dead to all that might waken me from my tortured slumber? Oh, how bittersweet that this fallen figure was once a paragon of light, so vibrant, so full, so intense, so feeling; now only a wasted shell of what once filled this empty body. How ironic that not even one so powerful as the Sun-Bringer can thaw a soul so wise from ages past, that the child who once played so innocently in his delightful warmth is lost to him forever. The End. Both pieces by Crystal S. Altman Sharp words spoken are daggers of the mind thrown all too often with no forethought as to the damage inflicted upon their entry into soft, vulnerable flesh. Flesh bleeds on an emotional level. Wounds opened which take an eternity to heal no matter how many times they are stitched closed with pretty words and loving affection. Depths of the soul lay open and raw; defenseless from years of erosion. Trust and mistrust, a fine line is drawn. And only one more dagger, one more wound, would seal that chasm forever with a wall impenetrable; effective against such words as these.
Object
?

Object’s are ‘parent’ level descriptions to ‘children’ items, (e.g. a book with pages).