INTERNET BETTY -I am an independent artist who lives in a small city in the Midwest. I love animals, and music. I write quite a bit of music and short stories, and I use Gutter Lickers as a canvas for things I general couldn't share using my real name. The sites name comes from when I was a teenager. Growing up there was little to do, and I watched most of my peers fall into worlds of Hedonism and Nihilism. Underground drug abuse and drinking abounded, and I found myself surrounded by Lolitas lying in basements surrounded by their crushed dreams of becoming models. Most were 13 to 15 and all of them had on gobs of makeup and it was smeared all over. Some were vomiting. Some were just laying on their sides. The carpet was always sticky in those places. We called them the Gutter Lickers because they would do anything, and HAD done everything to get where they wanted to go. I remember at the time my friends and I were a little older, and we would spend so much time making fun of them because we were trying to cover up our own problems. Some went on to be students, parents, even teachers. It's weird to see them around because I'm sure they know I'm remembering what they looked like giving a 25 year old a blow job while they cried. Anyway, I made this site in memory of the Gutter Lickers because they need at least 15 minutes of that fame they wanted so much. As for myself, maybe I need it too..
JUSTINE - Fuck people over or you'll get fucked over. There's no such thing as a comfort zone. It's cynical but it's everywhere, kinda like sex with the person you love (read: moved in with a couple months after meeting because he his coke is pure and he's 6'6"). You've spent the past few days laying over the back of some couch somewhere smoking someone's cigarettes, and the only reason you haven't left is because you don't know where you'd go, which is the stupidest fucking thing you've heard all day-night-evening. Remember the time, remember remember remember... yeah, why were those keys on your sidewalk what day is it have we slept ate drank yet are you mad I didn't mean to suck off that guy are you mad I've never met him just tell me if you're mad no okay good are we out of blow what time is it my head hurts do we have a ride tomorrow remember last night remember that time? Oh yeah, you remember. You hate it when it's like this because you don't care and you're not in the mood for this conversation even though you've had it 8 million times before, all sexual innuendo with no meaning and stupid questions to get you closer to the bed, the mirror. It's familiar but not the good kind of familiar, the good kind of familiar like sitting at restaurants at 4 in the morning, not like you ever eat, not like you ever sleep, the good kind of familiar like finishing off the last drop of the cheapest whiskey you could find with that guy with the half beard you met while you were puking on the sidewalk. You don't like familiar that much though do you? You want unfamiliar, you want to be fucked up, you want waking up in strange apartments, all sweaty and dingy because there's sheets over the windows for no reason and the taste of drugs in your mouth that you maybe probably for sure fucking did last night because oh yeah remember that? You want to be able to roll over and find some dirty stupid boy in your bed that you DON'T remember, finally not remembering until you do remember, 10 minutes later while you're closing your eyes and trying to not remember a thing because sometimes it's better that way. You force yourself on fucked up people and squeeze your way into their futures so they can fuck you up, fuck you, whatever, next line please. You think you're fucking stupid for this and maybe you're right but that doesn't really matter right now because your bed is warm and your lights are still on maybe you should shut them off but oh the bed is warm, maybe you should just close your eyes. Maybe. Just like that time a few months ago, do you remember? Yeah, you do.
