how come there are no pictures of people puking on the internet?? this is a little fetish of mine. you can find pictures of ANYTHING else. i guess when someone's puking they never go, 'hey, grab the camera, would ya?' anyway, this is what i'm up to.



here's something from a book i've been working on.....

"Folsom"
I just got back from a bar with Twitch. In the back of her little Honda were things for work tomorrow; clothespins, diapers, nipple clamps, candles, etc. In the back page of the latest issue of Vandal and Jewel was a picture of me. We were walking through China Town when Twitch pulled on my sleeve to stop and get a copy. It was a small black and white photo. It didn’t look like me at all, just a girl asking me for help. Underneath my picture it read Mistress Sherra. For the photograph, I was told to either look tough or lost. At the time, posed there in a room so cold it felt like a meat locker with the creepy photographer snarling the whole time, lost was easier to get a grip on. Everyone still thought I was a girl. The only people who knew I was a boy were Eleanor and Marcus. If Rick or any of his crew found out, shit, I’d lose my dick. They'd do a lot worse to me than that Mercedes they bashed two nights ago with their bats.
My mind shifted from that thought to work. Tomorrow I had a female client. She just got out of prison for kidnapping herself.

Her name was Melissa Daphne. She was in my Journalism class. She looked like an Abercrombie model, with freckled shoulders and warm auburn hair. I tried to picture her sitting before her computer in a sky-blue sweater ordering duct tape and a knife off the internet. She was this beautiful pure sorority looking girl who wanted to kidnap herself, her sultry down home good looks, pulling on a sweater her mother knitted for her, as she tugged on her juicy bottom lip while trying to decide which duct tape was the sturdiest. Which one hurt the most once it was ripped away from human flesh? Then she wondered at what time should she kidnap herself? Girls disappear at night most of the time, she thought. Little girls disappeared from their bedrooms. Older girls disappeared walking home from work or on the way to the grocery store. Sometimes they disappeared jogging, like Chastity’s ex-roommate when they lived in Queens who Rick dated.
Anyway these morbid thoughts of Melissa hung out in my mind. I bet she sat there at her desk pushing the Add To Cart button until her self-kidnapping kit was complete. Then her eyes started to feel heavy, the way they always did when she was up late studying for exams. Her sorority sister, Kim probably called her with the boring slutty details of her love life. “What you up to?” “Nothing,” the closeted masochist lied. She quickly brought up a new Google search page just so she didn’t feel like such a psycho while she talked to her best friend. Kim sighed, “Got in another fight with Jeff.” Kim waited for Melissa to respond. It was always Melissa’s job to make Kim feel better. I watched those two at school a lot. It always seemed to work that way. There was never anything new Melissa could offer up. The advice was Jeff was dumb, a male slut, and if Kim was out to collect STDs then it should work out just fine. “Cassandra came up to me today in the hall and told me that she saw him talking to Laura…again. The last time that happened he said, ‘it won’t happen again, Kim, I love you. You know I love you. He’s such a jerk.” Again with the uncomfortable pause. Next, there was probably a loud crash from the dorm next to Melissa. Those two jocks were wrestling again, knocking over stuff; death to another Ikea lamp. One let loose a roaring laughter and the walls of the dorm were so paper thin that Melissa could have sworn she heard one of the guys let one rip. “Hello? Are you even listening to me?” Kim whined. “Yeah, Kim, sorry.” Melissa bit her lip, stared back at the computer. She would disappear, even if she had to take herself away. She would be gone and then they’d all be sorry.

They were sorry. Sorry until she was found alone and admitted what she did then her friends and family were just pissed. No one wrote to her in prison. Now she was coming to me for more abuse.