:: The Fiendly Village Voice ::

:: Monday, April 22, 2002 ::

hello cruel world how you be?
the fiends are on high alert...
so beware the village of the bombed
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hey. dum dum dum dum, the days roll by and the fiends scurry from thier tin homes to thier fiberglass cars and back. I sit here in awe of them just rolling along like lemmimgs towards the cliff of Ordinaryism {no not a real word...poetic license.} thinking that all is well and always will be. 911 seems to have been swept away efficiently from thier minds as fdisk wipes a hard drive. The lemmings are probably much more aware of thier surroundings than the fiends.
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Today in the fiendly village...Sleet the fiends are all hiding in their tin houses as am I. I hope that with a new system I can incorporate streaming video into the site and therefore Let you see all the fiends for yourselves. Then you can decide whether I am being fair or not.
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They say you can take the trash out of the trailer but you can't take the trailer out of the trash. This witticism is mostly true. I know of many former fiends who have managed to drag themselves from this place. They seem to leave thinking that they are moving up; going somewhere better. When you see them a year later they are on welfare, or in jail, or worse. Or they are living hand to mouth and they are ready to divorce, or some other desperate measure that they feel will improve thier lives. True cases to follow.
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I can't talk long just an update...The fiends are multiplying...I swear, new fiends join us every day. I saw at least ten people I have never seen in the village today, and moving trucks three times. The time of fiendishness is upon us. bbl
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We will be doing more descriptives later/tomorrow. It' s 1:40 am here and I'm too sleepy to think about these white trash, junkyard dwellers that surround me. I do know that as my few remaining molars throb in my face and my sinuses scream with the pain, that trailer trashdom is contagious. I remember when I took a cruise with my mother at seven years old. I not only was accepted by all the adults at all the functions, I was welcomed. The filet minon was delectable, but my young spoiled tastebuds were so accustomed to the finer tastes that I did not stop to appreciate it. Now if I have flank steak once a year, my mouth waters at the thought even now. The instant that I had to move down to this social strata, I was infected with some germ, one which has allowed me to feel almost comfortable here. I now am the white trash within. (eg: the inner child) I also have four children, which can turn the most refined person into a shrieking shrew. So beware you trailer trash wannabes, this is a virus, you will be one of us if you join us. Buying a mobile home is like selling your soul to the devil, the contract is your soul.
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The Fiendly Author : thats me.

• Age:27
• sex:female
• background:Irish/German decent
• hobbies: the web,crochet
• my trash aspect: I have lost nearly all my teeth
  very lower middle class
  I live in a 1968 boanza mobile home
• My Fiendishness: I suck at
  cleaning house
  I am a screamer
  my four children
  can vouch for that.

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Fiend Two~codename"Jabba The Hut": Age=53 Weight=5' 7", 300 lbs', size 13 ring, Size 12 Shoe, And lumped? lumpy? Bumpy? One giant toad skinned, mentally deficient bumpasaurous. A believed to be female, gelatinous mass of oxygen wasting, child molesting?,{not sexual} make believe adult. There is no other way that I can find to describe her. The child molesting is rude and harsh but it is not "dirty". It's more of a physical harassment. This woman is very scary to other adults, and her behavior makes her terrifying to children. Always touching, feeling, kisses, touching, holding, children that are crying and fighting her. I do not even dislike her, I just wish I did not know her.
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