Monthly Archives: April 2014

“The Journal of Wall Grimm” 182: The Tale of Jean Nicolas Valiquette

April 30, 2014


Thursday Cola took me to a luxury hotel.  I didn’t even know where it was because I was hungover and sick, so I slept most of the time during the ride.  She had rented a car and brought Gary Oldman (II)’s cat carrier, and I even slept through Gary meowing as we drove.  I think she was feeling a little confused and confined.  Gary Oldman (II), not Cola.  Cola doesn’t ever seem like she gets confused.  We spent most of Thursday in the room because I felt like crap, and Cola ordered up soup, crackers, toast, tea, coke, and gingerale throughout the day until I was finally feeling better.  The shower in the hotel was incredible and the showerhead had various settings.  So I felt good enough to let the massaging setting run on my balls while I sat in the shower and jerked off.  That was a nice release.  I can’t remember the last time I got laid, but apparently I had sex with Iona this week, I just don’t remember, so it doesn’t really count.

Before Cola went to Iona’s, she had gotten some of my clothes from Howard’s which is when she also got the cat carrier.  She got my bathing suit too which is the shorts kind of speedo that Hasty made me get when we went to Boston.  We went down to the indoor, heated, possibly Olympic size pool on Friday when I was no longer hungover and my cold was nearly gone.  Cola wore a two piece bathing suit.  It had a kind of silicone sewn in the breast and ass areas, which gave her the appearance of having more of a figure.  I was actually surprised by her waistline, since she is anatomically a guy, it was strange that it was so thin.  But she told me that way back when she used to wear a corsette, she made it especially tight in order to make her waist permanently smaller, and it seems to have worked.  She will wear a corsette now and then when she’s really dressed up.  It seems to me that she’s always dressed up.   She said I haven’t seen anything yet.

The bathing suit had one of those skirt type bottoms which concealed the bulge from her male anatomy.  She had all waterproof makeup, and a bathing cap with wig hair sewn in so that it would stick out a little.  We swam around and went in the sauna and Jacuzzi.  At one point we were hanging out on the lawn chairs by the pool and she says, “Now that is hot, Wall Grimm, look at that.”  I look and she’s pointing to some European looking guy.  I’m like, “don’t point out guys to me, don’t say ‘that’s hot’ and make me look up at a guy.”  She told me I should be bisexual because I’m so open.  I was like, “nope” no interest in any of that.  Then she started going on about how I’ve kissed Pete a couple times and let a guy grope me when I was on ecstasy.  I told her that she read the context in my journal and so she should know it has nothing to do with any kind of bisexuality.  She asked if I ever had any sexual experience with a guy that I didn’t document in my journal.  I said no.  She said that I did.

I was like, “What makes you say that?”

“I know there’s something, Wall Grimm.  But it wasn’t pleasant.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You know what I’m talking about.  But I won’t say it, because then you’ll tell me to fuck off and you know I don’t like that.”

“Well too bad, because I’m telling you to fuck off right now.  Just because you read most of my journals, doesn’t mean it’s any of your business.”

“You’re endearing.”

She then went off and came back with two virgin piña coladas.  I asked her where she got all the money for the hotel.  She said she was a prostitute.  I was like, “Really, Cola?  No, don’t do that.  You don’t have to do that anymore.”

She told me I was a sweet asshole.  Sweet that I let her stay with me at Howard’s and went with her to get her stuff from her apartment with her jerk ex-boyfriend, and sweet that I implied I’d help her out so she wouldn’t have to prostitute herself.  She said I was an asshole for believing that she’d ever prostitute herself.

Apparently Cola is wealthy.  This is something she doesn’t want me to tell anyone else.  She comes from a wealthy family in the Berkshires.  Cola went to Princeton and Yale and achieved her Master’s by age 22.  I asked what she studied, she said “college boys”.  So I don’t know what her degrees are in since I didn’t pursue it after that.  After she returned home, she started a gallery.  Cola is a painter and sculptor.  She has her own gallery in the Berkshires and her art sells at extremely high prices.  Her artwork has been exhibited in museums all over the world, even including The Louvre.  She started the gallery and was able to travel for exhibits and promotion because of her parents’ wealth, but has established herself as renown enough to have her own wealth, independent from her parents.  Her name is Jean Nicolas Valiquette, and goes by Nicolas at home and with family, and by Jean Nicolas in the art community.

Two years ago, she left that world because even though she was able to paint and sculpt, which is her passion, she felt it was all a façade.  The prestige and elitism, and the circles she was enmeshed in, became meaningless.  She’s grateful for her success, but says you can’t really put a price on art.  Her gallery is managed by her parents now and she has not created new pieces in the last two years, which has raised the value of everything she’s already created.  That wasn’t her intention, she just wanted to live a real life.  And she no longer wanted to pretend she was something she’s not.  She moved around here to be true to herself, be the woman she always felt she was, no longer having to hide this part of her.  She used to only wear women’s lingerie beneath her male clothing, but she moved here and has become a woman through and through.  She has no interest in a sex change because she said that God is the greatest artist of them all who never makes artistic mistakes, so she considers her body to be like a Michelangelo in that respect.  She only embellishes, but doesn’t change.  She has become her own art, as she paints and sculpts herself.  It’s what’s inside that matters, in all people.  You can’t put a price on people like you can’t put a price on art.

She allows herself a minimal stipend of her wealth per month, and lives only off that amount, which she didn’t reveal, but it’s apparently a scraping by amount even for one person.  This of course was after she bought all the women’s clothing and accessories.  She says she prefers to live around real people because rich people don’t really understand life or what life is truly all about.  And she says that she’s a better man now as a woman than she ever was as a man.

Cola is 32 years old.  She says she splurged on me because she likes me and she’s never felt connected like this to anyone before.  She’s says I’m her first, true best friend and she felt connected even before she read my journals.  She appreciates the honesty and rawness of my existence.  And after she said all that, and more, I decided that she has to be one of the most fascinating people I’ve ever met.  She doesn’t like anyone in her new world to know her wealth because she says that people use you when you have money and/or prestige, and relationships are never genuine.  But she knows I’m not like that and she trusts me more than she’s ever trusted anyone else.


And now we’ve been back in town since Monday morning when I went directly to Blues Monday.  We’ve returned to Howard’s, and I’m back at school and work.  I did miss a visit with Bogart on Saturday though, and he actually called me whining about it.  Otherwise, this is definitely on my list of top 5 retreats/escapes from life.  It was healthy, after I sobered up, and actually rejuvenating, whereas most other times I return feeling depressed, useless, or guilty for one reason or another.  And I have Cola to thank for that.  C-O-L-A Cola.

My theme song today is “Changes” by David Bowie, because the lyrics remind me of Cola now that I know her story.



previous Grimm 181: The Trannie, the Drunk, & the Cat with an Attitude

next Grimm 183: Grimm the Abstract Gypsy Caballero Personal Protagonist

For a chronological list of links to all the journal entries, refer to the Journal Entries Index Page

For posts that aren’t journal entries, feel free to explore the Categories in the left side bar or the other pages above, including the Character Directories which list the posts each character is mentioned in.


Categories: JOURNAL ENTRIES 171-185 | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , | 3 Comments

Blog Tour 2014 – The Writing Process

1.  What am I working on at the moment?
I have been working on further revisions to my novel The Opera.  I had completed revisions last Summer and have sporadically been submitting to agents.  However, it’s been an enormous challenge to find agents whose interests seem relevant to the storyline.  No one seems to be looking for the sort of novel I wrote.  It’s also been difficult for me to identify the genre of the novel.  I struggle with query writing as it is, and this novel feels impossible for me to describe and properly represent within the brief context of a query.  As a result of these obstacles, I’ve decided to further revise.  Now that I’m more familiar with publishing industry, I hope to strengthen my themes and be able to effectively define the storyline.  It may seem strange that I can’t categorize my own book, but it just doesn’t quite fit into the scope of what is being sought by agents, nor is it classifiable enough to label.  I don’t think it falls under any specific genre.
2.  How does my work differ from others of its genre?
I have been submitting the novel as literary/commercial fiction, however when I have researched the definitions of these categories, there are elements that my novel either has or lacks which defies these types of fiction.  I write realistic fiction, realism, which tends to be dramatic, often brutal.  Dennis Lehane is the only author whose works I can think of to compare my genre to, not that my talent is comparable to his.  In terms of my own writing, the best example is my novel Amon-Re which I’ve been posting here on this blog.  If anyone can think of a genre for that, enlighten me.  I think literary and commercial fiction are both too broad and too restricting.  The Opera has similar elements to Amon-Re.  My stories tend to be character driven and include themes of substance abuse, street life, homelessness, and childhood sexual abuse.  I like plots and scenarios to be realistic and I sometimes present lifestyles and experiences that are not necessarily reflective of societal norms.  Often the realities focus on worlds within a darker side of life that many people are never touched by in their own lives.  Despite this fact, I try to make the protagonists identifiable in order for readers to comprehend and empathize with their motivations.  I have a strong leaning towards psychology, so I try to ensure my characters remain true to their individual natures and that their choices make sense.  I also enjoy establishing a philosophical and introspective narrative.
3.  Why do I write what I do?
I’ve always had a leaning toward dark themes, even as a child.  I used to want a puppy when I was a kid, which isn’t unusual, yet I used to imagine that I would come across an abused puppy that I would adopt.  Of course, I didn’t want any puppy to suffer, rather I was aware that there were animals out there that were abused, and in my own child mind, my imagination enabled me to end the abuse and rescue the puppy. I think I’ve always been fascinated and disturbed by the potential cruelty in people.  I couldn’t comprehend it at a young age, but I wanted to.  I never did come to understand why some people can be so cruel, however this need for explanation led me towards looking at things from a psychological perspective.  I hadn’t yet learned anything about Freud before I figured out that some behavior is the result of opposing circumstance.  In other words, I recognized that people exposed to cruelty could themselves become cruel.  I write from this standpoint, that victims can become victimizers, but they can often become survivors.  My characters are the survivors, whether or not they survive in the end, and they are never intentionally cruel.  They often think and feel very much the way I do.  I also incorporate a lot of my own experiences in my stories, whether they are based on observation or immersion.
4.  How does my writing process work?
I tend to begin with the character.  My protagonists are always male.  The personality comes first, then the physical features develop in order to solidify an image.  Along with the personality comes the nature of this person.  Then I determine a history.  Once the character is established, I begin to imagine various scenarios the person experiences, or people he can encounter.  These imaginations recur and alter and shape in my head, incorporating the history, and then the story is ready to be documented.  One thing I’ve learned through revising The Opera and especially now that I am posting Amon-Re, is that my best work comes from getting out everything, including it all, and being superfluous, then whittling it down.  I used to think it was all important and all good, but I’ve only just recently learned that it’s not.  I think it’s extremely useful, however, to put the extra stuff in at first.  It’s amazing how a few pages can be transformed into a sentence or a paragraph.  It may seem frivolous, but for me I find that it makes a story whole.  There are subtleties and curiosities and unspoken things in real life.  Not everything is explained.  Some things are only hinted at or alluded to.  I think it helps to make a story rich.  The key is to not become so attached to the extra stuff that you can’t let it go because that can sacrifice the integrity of the story.
I was invited to participate in The Writing Process Blog Tour by James Courtney and Kaisy Wilkerson-Mills at  Their blog tour post:
The tour will continue with  and who will post on May 5th.
Categories: NOTES FROM SAGE DOYLE | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 16 Comments

Humbled by All These Awards!

I have received multiple awards over the past couple of months and other than The Butterfly Light award which I just blogged, they are all compiled here in a bulk award post.  I’m not sure but I think one of these awards went to my Sage Doyle blog, and I also hope I didn’t miss any during all this time, so forgive me if I’ve made these mistakes.  My selection process for my awardees was based mostly on the bloggers who liked my posts over a period of a recent few days.  I’ve done it this way because I have lost track of the people I’ve awarded and haven’t awarded and I also have a lot of new readers whom I’d like to recognize.  By the way, it may take me a while to make it to all the blogs for notification, but I’ll get there.

Please be aware that due to the amount of bloggers I am awarding (over 100 total), it’s difficult for me to individually assess each blog in order to figure out if the blogger accepts awards.  If you don’t accept awards and I’m giving you one, just know it’s my way of saying thank you, acknowledging your presence out in the cyber world, and obviously you don’t need to accept.  I especially apologize if I’ve given you awards in the past and you declined.

That said, the first collection of awards I give to all my readers.  I’m giving them out in this way because that’s pretty much how I received them from other bloggers who offered them to their readers.  None of the awards come with rules in this process.  Take however many you want of the following 6:

I received The Shauny Award from


I received the Most Influential Blogger award from


Also from the Reader Appreciation award


And again from The Most Creative Blogger Award


Yet again from The Versatile Blogger Award


Lastly, I actually received the Angel Award from and from I didn’t just take this one.


The Angel Award does not come with any rules or need for nominations. Your only requirement is to do an acceptance post too.


Ok, now here are the awards that will each be followed by a list of awardees, and they come with rules.  If by any chance you don’t accept awards, I apologize, no offense intended.  Just know that I appreciate your coming by and your readership.

I received the Dragon’s Loyalty Award from and from


Thank you!


1. Display the Award on your Blog.
2. Announce your win with a post and thank the Blogger who awarded you.
3. Write seven interesting things about you
4. Present 15 deserving Bloggers with the Award
5. Link your nominees in the post and let them know of their being awarded.

Seven “interesting” things about me:

Some of these I’m sure I’ve said before, but there’s only so much I can think to say about myself.

1. I’ve been on a paleontological dig in Mexico.

2. I have big feet and hands for my height.

3. I am blind in one eye.

4. I’m an insomniac.

5. I used to think I was a good cook, since I’m Sicilian, but I’ve recently come to terms with the fact that I actually suck at cooking, and I’m only able to prepare foods to my own liking, which is why I thought I was so good.

6. I’ve been a vegetarian since I was 18, with a brief period of time that I ate meat in my early 20s, only because I was travelling and I ate whatever was available at the time.

7. I would never recommend, but would sooner discourage anyone from doing many of the things that I’ve done in my life, which makes me a hypocrite.  That doesn’t include digging for dinosaurs or becoming vegetarian.


My awardees are:


I received the Seed of Light award from


Thanks so much!  This is the first time I’ve ever received this award.

“All you need to start a forest is one seed”

This award is for blogs that inspire creativity,  nature, connection, communications and beauty. Pass it on!


1. Thank the person who nominated you.

2. Nominate at least 5 blogs and provide links to their blogs.

3. Notify each of their nominations.

My awardees are:


I received the Sunshine Award also from


Thanks again!


* Use the logo above in the post.

* Link to whoever nominated you.

* Write ten pieces of information about yourself.

* Nominate ten fellow bloggers “who positively and creatively inspire others in the blogsphere.”

* Leave a comment on the nominees’ blogs to tell them of the award.

More things about me:

1. I’m friendly but shy.

2. I’m polite until you piss me off.

3. I’m a member of PETA and MARC (Massachusetts Animal Rights Coalition).

4. I didn’t get my driver’s license until I was 21, by choice.  Good choice because if I had it as a teenager, I probably would have driven drunk and killed myself or other people.

5. I thought vegemite was disgusting until an Australian showed me how to eat it.

6. I ate a poisonous mushroom from the woods once, purposely, and almost died.  Fortunately I was hospitalized, but one of my “friends” considered leaving me in the woods to die because he was afraid he’d be in trouble for all the drugs we were on.

7. I am convinced I saw a UFO in North Conway, New Hampshire years and years ago.  Twice.  Two different occasions, both in North Conway.

8. I once got in-house suspension in high school, because I was caught at lunchtime getting a steak and cheese at a local pizza place.  I was caught by the principal, who was also getting a steak and cheese.  I told my dad the guy was a hypocrite and my father thought it was funny.

9. I would have been arrested at least four times in high school if my dad didn’t know all the cops.  I was picked up four times and taken home.  Each time the cops called my father after.

10. I used to be an Erulian, which is a reader of the runes.  I was extremely accurate.  I don’t read them anymore.

My awardees are:


I received the Beautiful Blogger award from the incredibly generous who should be a literary agent, especially mine. 


Thank you!


1. Copy the Beautiful Blogger Award logo.

2. Thank the person who nominated you and create a link back.

3. Nominate 7 (yes only seven) other bloggers and say a little something about them.

My awardees are: – Kev has poured his creative talents into writing the music for Wall Grimm’s song to Emma, (which will be featured in an upcoming post).  It has been great working with Kev.  He was very patient with my ignorance of the song writing process and tolerant of my creative preferences.  He’s a talented, great guy, and I love the song he wrote for Grimm. – Susan has been a great online friend and is definitely one of the sweetest people on the internet.  We had a period when we would write “together” as in we’d write at the same time and email now and then throughout the process.  She’s a talented, insightful writer, and it’s been a pleasure to be in the same cyberworld with her. – Toad has been an amazing supporter and promoter of Wall Grimm, by reblogging, and even recording narration to the posts.  He’s done a couple for Amon-Re too.  It’s really cool to hear my words narrated like that.  He’s a great guy, and an intriguing presence in the blogging community. – She has been leaving me the most incredibly analytical comments on my posts, and I absolutely love this.  She thinks she’s bothering me, but maybe I’m a little vain, I love to read these indepth perspectives on my writing, and discuss these ideas.  She’s a unique poet, wit a brilliant mind, and no clue about how talented she is. – Now this one here, I seriously want to be my agent, or press agent or something.  This is the blogger who has re-tweeted more of my tweets than anyone else, including myself.  He has given me most of the awards that I’ve posted today.  I can tell that in real life, if he’s your friend, then you’ve got the most loyal friend you could ask for.  I honestly have no idea how to fully express my appreciation for the support he has given me.  So far, this is the best way.  Thank you. – Here’s another blogger that has got to be one of the nicest people on line.  She’s given me many of these awards as well, and she always has something pleasant and kind to say.  Seriously, she’s a true sweetheart, and I’m literally honored that she not only follows me and reads my stuff, but comments on it.  Sometimes I wonder why she continues to read some of the stuff I write because I think it’s not appropriate for her, that she’s classier than that, so she surprises me.  And so I thank her for her loyalty and for being such a positive presence in this community. -Hasty, Hasty, Hasty, what can I say about Hasty.  She has become my best online friend.  She is a talented writer and poet who’s openness and honesty has always blown me away.  She is an endearing person who unfortunately attracts a lot of psychopaths, and is frequently attacked and abused on her blog and other media venues by these people.  She has faced a lot of cruelty and abuse in the blogging world.  It’s a great community, but unfortunately for Hasty, she attracts the worst of it.  And yet, she is a kind-hearted soul, hardworking writer, and great person to know.  And in fact, I’m going to know her in person this Summer when she comes up to Boston to visit me.  She will be the first online person to learn my real life identity.  But I keep telling her I’m not that interesting, and in fact I’m kind of boring, so I hope she won’t be disappointed.

Also from I received The Versatile Blogger Award


Thank you!

The rules of the Versatile Blogger Award require me to give away seven interesting facts about myself and to award 7 deserving bloggers.

*Groan* more about me:

1. I lived in Salem, MA when I was Wiccan, in a house on the water, and I worked in a music store.  I had a lot of people come in and talk to me, and my manager called them my “fan club” or “groupies” because they only came in to talk to me.  He said I was charming, which is a pun when you live in Salem.

2. I bite my nails.

3. I love the ocean, especially in Maine where I can hike the rocky coastline.

4. Lobster use to be a favorite food of mine, but being vegetarian I don’t eat it anymore, yet I still can break it apart and get out the meat like a pro whenever I’m with someone who doesn’t know how.

5. I graduated high school when I was still 17, and for “beach week” my friend and I went down to the Bahamas instead of Hampton Beach.  There we went on the Robinson Crusoe tour, which was three hours on a boat to an island, which didn’t help my hangover from all the tequila the night before.  I got sick on the boat, and when I tried to vomit over the side, the wind brought it right back up and it landed on the legs of a girl I met there who was joining us for the tour.

6. When I was a kid, I went to Catholic school.  When I would give away all my new toys to other kids, my mother would try to discourage me, but then I’d say it’s what Jesus would do, and she had a hard time arguing with that.

7. Every morning I bring coffee to my neighbor, and she just texted me, so I’m going over there, where we’ll drink coffee while I finish this post.

My awardees are:

I received The Premio Dardo also from who posted about the award “The Premio Dardo is an honour for bloggers who transmit core human values through their post, pictures and other work. Indeed, this is a very special award because it recognises personal, ethical, cultural and literary values ​​transmitted through writing.”


Again, this is a new one for me and I’m very honored to receive it, thanks so much!

The rules of the Dart Award are as follows (translated from Spanish):

1. Place the image of the award (badge) on your blog.

2. Thank the person who nominated you.

3. Nominate 15 other blogs.

My awardees are:

And the final award is the Wonderful Team Member from, yes you guessed it:


I can’t thank you enough!

Award Rules:

1) The nominee shall display the Wonderful Team Member Readership Award logo on his/her blog.

2) The nominee shall nominate 14 bloggers s/he admires, over a period of 7 days, all at once or little by little, by linking to their blogs and informing them about it.

My awardees are:

Categories: NOTES FROM SAGE DOYLE | Tags: , , | 50 Comments

The Butterfly Light Award

I have been honored with The Butterfly Light Award from and from

Thanks so much!


I have a bunch of awards I need to follow through with, but one of the rules of this particular award is to not lump it in with other awards, so I’m honoring that rule and here it stands alone.  I’ll be doing the other awards soon, so if you’re not on this list, you might be on that one.  I tend to select my awardees not necessarily based on the theme of the award, sorry, but based on differing methods I use to organize my approach.  It’s challenging to honor people and leave others out.  So the way I’ve selected my awardees for The Butterfly Light, and the other awards to come, is by giving it mostly to people who have liked some recent posts, with a couple extra bloggers thrown in the mix.  I have a lot of people to award, and by doing it this way, I’m hoping to express my deep appreciation for your visits and comments and for enabling me to share my writing.  Thanks so much to all of you.

The conditions for accepting The Butterfly Light Award are:

1. You must write an acceptance post, making sure you link back to the blogger who awarded you and thank them. You MAY NOT lump this award in with a batch of other awards.

2. You must individually name and re-award to a minimum of 1 and a maximum of 9999999 bloggers. You must let them know either personally with a comment on their blog OR a pingback (I’d suggest their about page)

3. You must link back to Belinda’s blog either to OR

4. You must write a short paragraph (yes only one paragraph – damn this is easy) – Entitled either “How I’m Spreading Light” OR “How I’m A Positive Influence”

5. Display Belinda’s lovely “Butterfly Light Award” badge on your blog.

Ok, my paragraph…well, I’m not sure if I’m spreading much light or if I’m a positive influence as a result of this blog, with Wall Grimm and Amon-Re being the characters.  Maybe it would be more applicable on my other blog where there’s some poetry that people might appreciate.  I’m a little stumped by this question.  Maybe I’m a positive influence because I’m doing what I love, and that’s writing.  Through blogging I’m finally following my life long dream of being a writer, but not just a writer, a writer who has readers.  I’m very fulfilled.  I think that’s positive because for me that’s what writing is all about, sharing my ideas and my artform.  It’s not about money or status.  I’m creating worlds and people and putting it all out there for others to experience.  And I suppose that’s all I really have to say.  I do a poor job at patting myself on the back.

So enough of that.


Please be aware that due to the amount of bloggers I am awarding (over 100 total along with the other awards), it’s difficult for me to individually assess each blog in order to figure out if the blogger accepts awards.  If you don’t accept awards and I’m giving you one, just know it’s my way of saying thank you, acknowledging your presence out in the cyber world, and obviously you don’t need to accept.  I especially apologize if I’ve given you awards in the past and you declined.

My awardees are:

Categories: NOTES FROM SAGE DOYLE | Tags: , , , | 36 Comments

“The Journal of Wall Grimm” 181: The Trannie, the Drunk, & the Cat with an Attitude

April 24, 2014


Iona let me crash at her place for a few days, and she even let me drink.  She didn’t want to me to drink of course, but I convinced her that I’m just taking a break from life, I’ll stop again, I just need this break, and I also convinced her to get me to the store to buy me more Jameson’s and chianti.  I’m a lightweight these days.  And I got cigarettes too.  I’ll quit smoking again as well.

I’m relapsing yeah, but I’m doing it responsibly.  I’m not just disappearing like I tend to do.  I told Howard I was staying at a friend’s for a few days or so.  I contacted all my professors and told them I’m really sick.  That’s not a big deal because I’ve barely missed any classes so I kind of reach my maximum absences after this week.  I can’t miss any more after this, but that won’t be difficult because the semester ends in a few weeks.  Besides, I’m not lying, I am sick.  I caught something.  So Iona also brought me to get cold medicine.  I say she brought me because I’ve been too drunk to venture on my own.  But I went with her because I don’t want to be this big loser, drunken invalid.

Anyway, I also contacted Sharly and told her I won’t be able to work.  She has begun to have her girlfriend cover for me whenever another employee can’t cover me.  She doesn’t want to hire someone else, because then I’ll lose hours.  I’ve been really responsible, so this isn’t that big of a deal.  I can’t remember what her girlfriend does for work but she sets her own hours and can do some work online, so it’s not an inconvenience for her to step in spontaneously.  She can also get some work done while she’s at the store.

I called my mom and said I was sorry that I was avoiding her but I just didn’t want to have to explain what happened.  She tried to press me on what provoked me to punch Uncle fucking potato ass face Dan, but I told her I didn’t want to get into it.  Uncle Dan told her he has no idea.  But he knows.  He’s an idiot if he doesn’t.  Well, he’s an idiot either way.

On Wednesday, Cola called me because she returned from visiting her family and I wasn’t at Howard’s.  She said, “You’re not at Paula’s, are you?”


“I didn’t think so.  You must be at Iona’s.”

“How do you even know that.”

“I know how you think, Wall Grimm.  I read your journals.”

It’s a positive that she’s read them because then she knows shit without my having to explain things, or myself.  The negative is that I don’t think I’ll ever be able to get away with anything around her.  She could tell I was drinking and called me a little bitch who needed a slap, then demanded me to tell her where Iona lives so she could come rescue me.

“I don’t need rescuing.”

“Yeah you do.  Iona will take care of you, I know that, but she loves you so she’ll do whatever you want, including let you drink.”

Before she left for Iona’s, she confirmed that I had Gary Oldman (II), which I do because she came with me to my parents’ house on Easter.  I passed her off to my cousin for a second when I punched Uncle Dan in the face.  Then I took her back and left.  She’s pissed at me though because of my relapse.  I think she blames herself because she thinks she’s not doing her job as an Emotional Support Service Animal.  I have to keep reassuring her she does a good job, but she keeps giving me dirty looks.  Then I say if she’s mad at me it will just make me sad and I’ll drink more.  So then she stalks and attacks me and tries to get me to play.  She’s good at what she does.  I don’t pay her enough.

So yesterday, Cola arrived at Iona’s and I was really drunk.  I don’t remember a lot of details about these past few days.  One thing I remember is offering myself sexually to Cola if she would get me more booze.  Oops.  But first I was like, “are you a pitcher or a catcher?”  She said she was vers, which means versatile, which means both.  So I told her she’d have to be the catcher in my case.  She said she didn’t want to “catch” anything from me, at least not while I was a drunken slut.  “Offer again when you’re sober and I’m all yours, cowboy.”  She called me cowboy because she knows that’s what Iona calls me.

I also remember that at one point I had been talking about my book Amon-Re and I jumped on Iona’s kitchen table shouting, “I am the Creator and Lord of Eternal Light!”

Cola said, “Are you the Lizard King too?”

“I am the Lizard King!  I can do anything!”

Then the table fell out from beneath me.  Or maybe I just fell off the table.  And I don’t remember anything after that.

I’m waking up at Motel 6.  Cola’s up and she told me she had to throw me over her shoulder and take me out to her car.  By the time we got to The Sheraton, I was awake but could barely walk, so they claimed there was no vacancy.  Cola says they just didn’t like the looks of us.  She’s a trannie, I’m a drunk, and Gary Oldman (II) was giving them attitude.  She said we’re going to a better hotel tonight so that I can have my away time and break, without having to face Howard, and in a safe place where Cola can babysit me and slap sense into me.  I guess I’m ok with that, I like staying in hotels.  I asked Cola if she wanted me to pay for the next one, she said not to worry about it, she’s got the money.  Then I asked her how she makes money, she said “those are details for another time, Wall Grimm.”

At this moment as I’m writing in my journal, she’s trying to read over my shoulder but I can tell she can’t decipher my handwriting.  So I’m going to write the following sentence large and clear for her to be able to read:


She’s laughing now and calling me a slut, and now she went in the bathroom to do her morning ritual of looking like a woman again.  I feel like shit, sick, hungover, wanting more booze, and feeling emotionally like shit too, disappointed in myself and discouraged.  But I suspect that Cola is going to get me through this just fine.  She’s a great person.

And she just called out from the bathroom, “Wall Grimm, do you want to fuck the dead shit out of me too?  Because I’m a little backed up, I need an enema.”

She’s funny.  C-O-L-A Cola.

My theme song for this entry is “Laid” by James, because Cola’s singing that right now while she’s in the bathroom.



previous Grimm 180: Secrets, Acceptance, & Rage

next Grimm 182: The Tale of Jean Nicolas Valiquette

I’m including two versions of “Laid”.  The first one I have to include because he sings “cum”, while in the second version it’s changed to “sing”.  But I’m including the second video as well, because it’s more interesting.

For a chronological list of links to all the journal entries, refer to the Journal Entries Index Page

For posts that aren’t journal entries, feel free to explore the Categories in the left side bar or the other pages above, including the Character Directories which list the posts each character is mentioned in.

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“The Journal of Wall Grimm” 180: Secrets, Acceptance, & Rage

April 21, 2014


Cola went away for the weekend to visit her family in The Berkshires.  She had to go as a man because they have no idea she’s transgendered.  That wicked sucks, I think, that people have to hide like that from their own family because they know they won’t be accepted if they’re open.  I feel very fortunate to have my parents.  I’m grateful for them every day.  I know that I could tell them anything and they would support me.  Unless I was a serial killer or something, then I think they’d want me in prison.  Or at least I’d hope they would.  Anyway, so Cola was gone for the weekend.  I visited Bogart on Saturday and brought him a chocolate bunny even though sugar makes him hyper.  He never gets chocolate and he loves it.  I got him one of the Lindt bunnies, they’re so freakin’ good.  I almost ate it on the way there.

On Sunday I went to my parents’ house.  After they got back from church they had our traditional Easter brunch.  Most of the family was there, family I don’t see much these days, not since I was living with my parents.  Pete was going to come with me but his parents actually invited him home for the holiday and took Sweetheart with him.  That’s cool because he also had to hide from them the fact that he was gay and when he came out to them, they kicked him out, right before Christmas, a couple years ago or whenever it was.  That’s how we started being roommates at the time because I told him he could stay with me.  He’s been kind of estranged from them ever since, and now they took the initiative to be involved in his life, so that’s good.  Personally I don’t know if I’d want them back in my life if they took that long to accept me, or sort of accept me.  But I can’t say for sure because I’m not in that situation.  It must really hurt to go through that.  Pete’s pretty tough emotionally.  He’s sensitive but strong.

So the day started well, my favorite is the homefries.  My mother makes the best homefries.  We had homefries, ham with pineapple sauce (I don’t eat ham), baked beans, eggs (I don’t eat eggs), toast, Bavarian waffles, and apple pie for dessert.  Plus tons of chocolate.  My parents don’t do Easter egg hunts for me and my sister anymore, but they did for a long time.  I think the last year they did it was after I turned 21 and they put nips in the eggs.  Then they decided I drank too much and that was the end of that.  But my sister and I hid the eggs outside for our little cousins and it was fun to watch them run around looking for them.

After the egg hunt and brunch, we were all just sitting out on the patio and talking while the younger kids were playing in the yard.  It was kind of rough being around all the champagne.  Champagne has always been a big part of our Easters.  Either straight or as mimosas.  So I was beginning to have a rough time with that, especially since I haven’t been smoking, it was hard to confront two addictions at once.  I didn’t talk much because my mind was distracted with these things.  And then, of all fucking people, Uncle Dan showed up.  He was being all charming and people were glad to see him because he’s not around much, he travels for work and lives in New York.  I think I was the only one who was not glad to see him.

I got even quieter as he made the rounds hugging and kissing everyone, and they all had big smiles on their faces.  He made his way to me and was like, “Hey, Grimm.”  I hate that he calls me Grimm, my family all mostly calls me Valente, sometimes Grimm.  But he calls me Grimm and it feels personal, like, that’s my fucking name you have no right to call me that or speak of it, what makes you think you’re that close to me that you can call me by that name, fuck you.  I’m not sure how rational that is.

I didn’t respond, I just got up and went in the bathroom.  For about a half an hour, he kept turning up wherever I’d go, whatever room I’d be in.  I’d find a place with some relatives and sit with them and he’d come in the room so I’d leave and find a new place.  I don’t know why I even stayed that long.  I was just pissed that he not only showed up, but also that he was following me, trying to talk to me.  I had nothing to say to him.  I just wanted to be there with my family since I hadn’t been around for Christmas and I was ready to be a part of holiday celebrations after Valentina.  He was disrupting my process and my route back to normalcy and stability.

Finally I went out to the fire.  We had a fire pit going and some of the kids were making s’mores.  Fire brings me peace or rejuvenates and cleanses me.  I release all my negative energy into the fire, then bring in the fire power, letting it surge through me, and it makes me feel good.  It’s like fire is a healthy drug for me, gives me that rush, yet leaves me with clarity and fortitude.  I caved and bummed a smoke off one of my older cousins.  So I was just standing there by the fire, feeling like I had this fervent shield around me that nothing could penetrate.  No one by the fire spoke to me as if they sensed it, as it almost gave off this “leave me the fuck alone” kind of vibe.

Then fucking Uncle Dan comes by and stands right next to me and says, “Hey, Grimm”.  The fire power surged and became an unbearable rage inside of me.  It was so intense I had to let it out.  And he was the cause of it.  He said “Hey, Grimm” and the surge happened immediately, and it was almost seconds after he said it that I turned and punched him square on in the face with such force that he was knocked off his feet.  There was a moment of people just looking on in shock, and then I walked away.  And then I left.

My parents and sister have called but I haven’t answered when their names show on my cell.  I have no clue how to explain that to them.  I didn’t even go back to Howard’s because then they’d know where to find me.  Instead I went to Iona’s.  First I walked around for a while, bought some cigarettes, struggled against going to the liquor store, until I just thought fuck it, just this once.  I bought a bottle of Jameson’s.  I couldn’t think of anywhere to go, so I went in the woods at the park and drank.  It didn’t take much to hit me.  Eventually, I staggered to Iona’s and waited for her to return home after whatever holiday activities she was involved in.  I sat outside her apartment building, drinking the Jameson’s from an emptied out soda can, like I write Amon-Re as doing.

I spent the night with her, and I’m at her place right now.  I called and told Howard I wasn’t going to Blues Monday today.  I’m hung over and kind of miserable, and I think I’m getting sick.  My throat hurts and ears hurt and my whole fucking face hurts.  And…I have nothing else to say right now.

My theme song is “Jerk Off” by Tool, dedicated to Uncle Dan, and it pisses me off that he stirs this kind of violence in me.



previous Grimm 179: Wall Grimm’s Philosophy of Dwelling & Penguini a la Cola

next Grimm 181: The Trannie, the Drunk, & the Cat with an Attitude

For a chronological list of links to all the journal entries, refer to the Journal Entries Index Page

For posts that aren’t journal entries, feel free to explore the Categories in the left side bar or the other pages above, including the Character Directories which list the posts each character is mentioned in.

Categories: JOURNAL ENTRIES 171-185 | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , | 3 Comments

“The Journal of Wall Grimm” 179: Wall Grimm’s Philosophy of Dwelling & Penguini a la Cola

April 17, 2014


I was talking with Howard and he said that he and Daisy have been discussing moving.  He said he hates to face up to the fact that they’re getting older and it would be best for them if they weren’t so rural and didn’t have a house to maintain.  So they’ve begun to consider living in a 55+ housing type situation.  I felt really bad at first because I thought maybe I wasn’t helping around the house enough, so I offered to do more, and I also offered money.  I’ve got a good stash going now since I’m working a lot and I really don’t have much to spend my money on.  I buy food for me and Gary Oldman (II) and get Dunkin Donuts coffee sometimes.  Cigarettes are my huge expense, so I’ve decided to quit.  I tried but it makes me kind of an irritable asshole and I don’t like feeling that way so yesterday I got myself some nicotine gum.  I’m chewing a piece right now and it’s actually staving off my nicotine craving.  Anyway, I’ve gone off subject.

Howard assured me that more help and more money wouldn’t change anything.  It’s something they’ve been thinking about for a long time, and they’re honestly looking forward to a change and simplifying their lives.  He said they’ve begun to look into places to move and they’re going to put their house on the market.  I’m almost tempted to buy it, maybe with Pete or something, but I kind of don’t want to lock myself down to that kind of a commitment.  Not at 24.  And not as a gypsy.  Can’t just up and leave anytime I want when I have a property to be responsible for.

Yet even though he assured me I couldn’t have done more, I still feel like I could have.  But I won’t dwell on it.  I hate dwelling.  I have a philosophy about that.  My name is Wall Grimm and I have a philosophy about the pointlessness of dwelling.


I don’t want to dwell on the new developments involving Howard’s…dwelling, aka house/living arrangements.  Dwelling just turns trivial matters into bigger problems, and extends the life of bullshit.  When you dwell, you’re holding yourself back from accepting things as they are and resolving them within yourself.  It’s best to come to terms with circumstance, learn from it, and if there’s any way to act on it, then do what you got to do.  If you can’t change it, move on.  If you can make a difference, then just do it.  Dwelling is a stagnancy in physical investment and the cognitive process of realization.  Dwelling prevents growth of character.  You can’t grow as a person if you’re stuck in one stage of development.  So dwelling on what I did or didn’t do with regards to Howard’s situation, is pointless.  Howard and Daisy are making a practical decision that has nothing to do with me.  I didn’t age them, that’s just life and time.  I also did help them a lot, so I can be proud of that.  Dwelling often diminishes the worth of accomplishments as you focus on the illusion of incompetencies.

And yeah, I have incompetencies, but I don’t dwell on them, or I try not to.  I just build competence out of my awareness of them.  Or I try to.

Ok, enough about that.

Last night after work C-O-L-A Cola and I went to Pete’s.  Hasty met us there and she fell in love with Cola.  In an adoring kind of way, not a marrying kind of way.  Sweetheart and Pete liked Cola too and Cola was excited to meet them since she read about them in my journals, she said it was like meeting characters from a book.

Cola wanted to make a late dinner and had spent the day cutting out penguin shapes from lasagna noodles with little penguin cookie cutters.  She called it Penguini Pasta.  She said it took a long time though so she cooked it with regular spaghetti once we were at Pete’s.  She also made a version of Alfredo sauce that only had milk because she forgot about the heavy cream.  And since we weren’t having fettuccine, she just called the meal Spaghetti Freddy with Penguini a la Cola.

Then we had a conversation about “what is sexy” essentially.  Can you acknowledge that a person is sexy without wanting to have sex with that person?  There seems to be a congruency with thinking someone’s sexy and wanting sex with them.  Hasty said she felt that women had a better capability than men to recognize sexiness and sexuality in people, regardless of gender, and it doesn’t lead to feelings of sexual arousal or the need to be sexually intimate with that person.  Men think a woman is sexy and want sex with her.  I disagreed, mostly in terms with myself.  I can acknowledge the sexual qualities in people without needing that gratification.  Hasty wanted proof through example, so after a thought, I said Cola.  Cola’s a sexy person, but I definitely don’t want to have sex with her.  But that just made Cola’s night and every now and then she’d say “Wall Grimm thinks I’m sexy” even if it was irrelevant.  She mostly calls me Wall Grimm, not just Grimm, she says my whole name.  No one else does that.

Anyway, by the end of the conversation, we came to a consensus that men do have the ability, and we’re talking about heterosexual men here.  But it’s different than women.  Heterosexual women can think a guy is sexy and not want sex with him.  However, a heterosexual guy is going to want sex with any woman he finds sexy.  The same guy can recognize sexiness in other men, but it varies.  Some guys won’t allow themselves to consciously acknowledge it.  Some guys will, but won’t openly admit it.  Other guys, like me, are comfortable with their own sexuality enough, to not feel threatened by that.  Although, I can’t think of any examples of guys I recognize as sexy, not at the moment, not even any celebrities.

From this conversation emerged a plan to have an opposite day.  As I said before, Cola likes the opposite of everything.  The opposite day will definitely test my level of comfort in my own sexuality and manhood.  They want to all go out and dress as our opposite gender.  So Pete and I would dress as women, Hasty, Sweetheart, and Cola would dress as men.  Cola is anatomically a man, but identifies herself as a woman, so her opposite would truly be dressing as a man.

I’m not sure how much like a woman I’d look like, and….damn I don’t know, but I guess I’ll just have to um…man up, and dress like a woman.

We ended the evening by playing music and dancing.  The best song we danced to, because it’s a cool song to dance to, will be my theme song.  It’s “Lose Yourself to Dance” by Daft Punk.


previous Grimm 178: Wall Grimm’s Entourage

next Grimm 180: Secrets, Acceptance, & Rage

Hasty is based on herself from

For a chronological list of links to all the journal entries, refer to the Journal Entries Index Page

For posts that aren’t journal entries, feel free to explore the Categories in the left side bar or the other pages above, including the Character Directories which list the posts each character is mentioned in.

Categories: JOURNAL ENTRIES 171-185 | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , | 17 Comments

“The Journal of Wall Grimm” 178: Wall Grimm’s Entourage

April 14, 2014


On Thursday morning it was a challenge to wake Cola, but once I did, she began a morning ritual that I had no time for.  She went to bed looking like a man, no wig, no makeup, and I loaned her something to sleep in.  She woke up looking like a man and it’s a process for her to transform.  I understand that, but I didn’t have time, so I had to leave.  I told her I’d tell Howard she was there and when she was ready she could go up and get coffee or something, and that she could stay there if she wanted.  I’d come home between school and work to get her or if she needed to go somewhere, I left her money for a taxi.  But when I got home, she was still there.  I went and talked to Howard and he said, “Something about you Grimm, you don’t just attract all kinds of people, you befriend them.”  That’s a compliment coming from Howard.  And Daisy seemed to adore Cola, said she was a lovely girl, and so tall.  I don’t think she realized.  And Howard wasn’t about to explain it to her.  He just nodded and said, “yes she is.”  Then he had that rare Howard look in his eye.  It was amusement, but not in mockery.  It’s a rare look, except he makes it often in reference to me.  Rare with regards to other people.

Anyway, Cola asked if I could go with her to collect her things from her apartment and get her to a hotel.  I didn’t have much time before I had to get to work, so I just told her to spend another night if she wanted.  I had a shorter school day on Friday and could do it with her then.  I work six days per week now.  Every day but Monday.  Monday I don’t have school either.  It’s reserved strictly for the blues.  Blues Monday.  She was ok with that.  So the same routine happened Friday, and when I got home from school, Cola was on my bed reading all my old journals.  They were in a locked box, in a hole in the wall that I created, behind an “Easy Rider” poster.  I’m not much of a poster guy, but it was my idea on how to hide my journals, and I got the poster at a flea market so it felt right.

She had to really dig around everywhere like the freakin’ FBI to find that box.  Then she had to break into the box.  My current journal is always with me, as is Gary Oldman (II), who seems to like Cola a lot.  I was aghast when I walked in and saw her there reading my journals.  I was just waiting for the right opportunity to use the word aghast and this works.  Horrified.  Aghast.  Rigormortified.

I was speechless, and when she began to explain herself, for some reason I didn’t care anymore.  She said something along the lines of, “You have nothing, Wall Grimm.  You hardly have any possessions.  I have so many things.  And I was soooo bored.  I wanted to snoop.  I looked everywhere.  I’m wearing a pair of your bikini briefs.  It’s the only time I like to wear men’s underwear, when it belongs to a man.”  I told her she could keep them.

She said she searched under, behind, above, below everything.  The only thing of interest was the locked box and since it was locked, her curiosity was too much for her.  Especially since she found the key first during her search.  She said if it was money or valuables, she’d have put it back right away, she’s no thief.  But she couldn’t resist reading.  She said that now she loves me and thinks I’m fascinating and peculiar and she wants to meet Emma so she can tell me if Emma’s worth my pining for.  She wants to meet all my friends.  And she wants to know more about my Gypsy blood and my psychicisms.

During the whole weekend she asked me questions and commented on the stuff I wrote, talking about it like it was a novel she just read.  She wants to read my current journal and know what I’ve said about her.  For some reason it doesn’t bother me to have this one person know all my secrets.  Maybe it’s because she shares a lot with me about herself, and I like to hear her perspective on observations and thoughts I’ve had.  It’s like she’s my living journal now, she knows more than anyone else has ever known about how I think and feel about stuff.  She knows my internal response to the external struggles that people randomly and rarely witness personally.  It’s almost like I’ve confided in her, without saying a word.  I never confide in people.

After that, I kind of didn’t want to leave her off at a hotel.  Just set her off and free into the world with all that knowledge about me.  So I told her she could stay for a while.  She was happy about that and she told me that I was still a mystery.  I asked her why because she knows everything.  She said no, she senses I hold back, even in my journal, I don’t say it all.

She’s going to go shopping today while I’m at Blues Monday.  I don’t know what for, but she said she will join us next week maybe.  She didn’t come with me to visit Bogart on Saturday either.  That turned out to be a good thing, since Bogart was furious that I didn’t visit him last Saturday.  Ironically, he’s less violent with me when he’s mad at me than when he’s glad to see me.  He just whined and complained and shouted.  I told him I had been arrested after being abducted, but it took a while for him to get his emotions out before he could let that sink in.  Finally, he realized I had been detained by the Boston Police, and he laughed and thought that was hysterical, said he’d been there himself.  Then it was like he completely forgot he was upset with me to begin with.

Otherwise, Cola’s kind of my entourage now.  Cola and Gary Oldman (II).  And me in my Eastwood and Stepping Wolves.  Howard brought down a cot for me to sleep on, since I gave my bed up to Cola.  The basement apartment is basically like a studio.  It’s one huge room, with a small bathroom with a shower, no tub.  There’s a small fridge, sink, counter area and few cabinets.  There’s a microwave and a toaster.  Laundry machines are in the basement itself, not in my apartment.  So it’s spacious but, crowded with more than one person.  Fortunately I go to school and work a lot.  Though my times at home tend to be when I read or write or do homework or it’s where I work out when I’m not running.  Cola’s good though, she’s begun writing now too.  I guess I inspired her.  But she’s kind of distracting even when we write together.  She’ll start laughing and make me read the funny thing she wrote.  Or she’ll say, “oh this is so sad, I’m not sure I want you to read this….oh ok, I guess I’ll let you.”  As if I asked to or had a choice.

But I like having her around.  I think at this point in my life, she’s the closest thing to having someone thoroughly understand me.  And now I’m beginning to wonder if I actually want people to understand me.  Maybe I enjoy baffling people.  Yeah, I just decided I do.  But if there’s one person who isn’t baffled by me, it’s ok if that’s Cola.  Since she says she still thinks I’m peculiar and that I haven’t lost any intrigue.  And she’s wise enough to know that I didn’t write everything, there’s more to me than just what I’ve written in my journals.  She’s also the only person who’s ever said that she’s glad I’ve suffered, because she likes who I am as a result of it, it makes me a better person.  But right after she said that, she added, “And you’re such a naughty slut.  I like that about you.”  C-O-L-A Cola.

And my theme song for today is “Somewhere I belong” by Linkin Park because I think it’s kind of a rough synopsis to all my journal entries combined into one entity.


previous Grimm 177: Cola and the Caballero

next Grimm 179: Wall Grimm’s Philosophy of Dwelling & Penguini a la Cola

For a chronological list of links to all the journal entries, refer to the Journal Entries Index Page

For posts that aren’t journal entries, feel free to explore the Categories in the left side bar or the other pages above, including the Character Directories which list the posts each character is mentioned in.




Categories: JOURNAL ENTRIES 171-185 | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , | 16 Comments

“The Journal of Wall Grimm” 177: Cola and the Caballero

April 10, 2014

I worked all day yesterday and last night until close.  I went outside for a break to have a butt and I saw a transgendered standing across the street waiting for a bus.  Two guys walked by and scoffed, laughed, and once they were about ten feet away, they shouted, “Freak!”

That pissed me off.  I’m really opposed to discrimination of any kind.  Well, except for scumbags who hurt children or animals.  I openly discriminate against them and support the ostracization and scrutiny of them.  Anyway, I started to cross the street towards them, and yelled, “Hey!”  They stopped and turned.  I said, “what did you just fucking say?”

“Chill out, dude, we weren’t talking to you.”

I said, no shit, and called them assholes and said they’d better apologize to her or once I beat them to their knees they’ll have to apologize to the both of us.  They ran before I finished crossing the street.  I guess I made my point.

I turned back around to go stand outside the bookstore and lit another cigarette, since I tossed the other one, was almost done smoking it anyway.  Once I returned to my post, I saw the transgendered slowly making her way across the street towards me.  She was walking real slow like she wanted to ensure I saw her in order to give me time to tell her to go away.  That’s just the sense I got by her pace and stride and how she was looking at me the entire time.  I didn’t so she made it over by me and said, “a cowboy.”  I was wearing my Eastwood and Stepping Wolves.

“Sure am little lady.”

She laughed because she was probably about my height of 5’10” but in heels towered over me at about 6’2″.

She thanked me and asked why I did that.  I just said, “I hate that shit.  People fucking suck sometimes.”

“You should watch your language around a lady you know.”

I tipped my hat, “pardon me ma’am.”

“Is that your name?”  She pointed to my name tag.


“You’re strange and peculiar.”

“You’re not so ordinary yourself.”

“No I’m not.  My name’s Nicky, but my friends call me Nicole.  You can call me anytime, but be sure to address me as Nicole.”

Then a bus stopped across the street let two people off and drove away.

“You missed your bus.”

“Oops.  …You’re not gay, Wall Grimm, I can tell.”


“I’m not either.  I like men.”

“So you’re all woman then, huh?”

“Well, as much as I can be, but that’s beneath the surface.”

Then she told me that contrary to misconceptions, transgendereds aren’t all gay.  Some dress up as women, or just wear women’s lingerie, but still like women.  She said most prefer to be referred as “she” when dressed as a woman, “he” is ok when they’re in men’s clothes, but “it” is never cool, and “he” is forgiven when a person doesn’t know any better.

I told her I had to get back in to work so she decided to come in and browse.  She disappeared for a while and then came over to me to show me a book.  She asked what I was doing.  I told her I was cleaning the check out area.  She said, “that’s good you like to keep your area to check out clean.”

I fucking love innuendo, no matter where it comes from, and the diverse places in dialogue where it can be found.

The book she had was about reincarnation.  We talked about Edgar Cayce and how we agreed that reincarnation in his view was similar to Buddhist philosophy and even could be compared to purgatory as well as the veils of death in Ancient Egyptian beliefs.  There’s a lot of congruency with all religions.  Basically living again and again and evolving as a spirit until you reach a heightened existence when the soul can finally pass on.  Then she told me that she believed transgendereds were the heightened existence, because there’s a lot of shit you have to deal with and confront and learn from and overcome.  You have to be confident and brave and accepting of yourself enough to pull it off with dignity.  I thought that was awesome.

We talked a lot and at one point we were skimming through a dictionary looking up funny words.  These were our favorites:

Pilgarlic – a bald person, a person with a bald head that resembles a peeled garlic clove

Corybungus – a person’s bottom, or the rear of anything that’s alive.

Bunghole, I get it now.

Our favorite was frotteur – a person who engages in the sexual act of frottage.

We liked that definition after we looked up the word frottage: The act of rubbing up against the body of another person, as in a crowd, in order to gain sexual gratification.  We admitted we’ve both done that at times, usually on the subway.  So we started calling ourselves frotteurs.  She said, “I want to frottage you.”   I said it was a noun, so she said, “I want to do frottage to you.”  I just said, “nah, that’s ok.”

She asked if I minded, as a straight guy, if a transgendered sexually harasses me.  I said, nope, so long as it’s just for fun and she didn’t expect to get anywhere with me.  Being sexually harassed is ego boosting and I’m ok with that.  She said she doesn’t, she just likes to sexually harass straight guys when they allow it because it doesn’t happen often, and that she liked me because I was adorable and peculiar.  She kept calling me peculiar.  I like being peculiar.   I asked her if she minded if I kept sticking my hands down my pants to scratch my balls, and I explained the bet I lost and that I had to shave them.  They’re so fucking itchy from the hair growing back.  I said no when she offered to scratch them for me, and she told me that’s just a little part of the harassment.

She told me I was her caballero.  I said, that’s cool.  I began calling her Nicola, because it rhymed with Lola, and she loved that because that’s one of her favorite songs.  Eventually, I shortened it to Cola, which she liked even better. C-O-L-A Cola.

She stayed until the store closed and we walked to Dunkin’ Donuts.  She ordered warm milk with sugar and a splash of coffee thrown in.  Cola appreciates the opposites of everything.

Being with her, it was a shame to see all the stares and mockingly amused, demeaning expressions on people’s faces.  She lives like that every day of her life.  There was a lot of acceptance too.  But it sucks that the acceptance stands out and is recognized with gratitude.  Acceptance should just happen, without it being so extraordinary.

When it was time to go home, she said she didn’t want to go.  She was living with a man who was her supposed boyfriend, but they got in an argument and he kicked her out.  She was originally planning to return anyway, hoping the offer of a blow job would ease things.  Of course she had to add that men give the best blow jobs since they have the equipment, they know best what to do with it.

I responded with, “I thought you were all woman.”

“You’re cheeky.  I like that about you.”

I told her she could stay the night with me, but we had to take a cab, since I only had my bike.  I left my bike at the store, so hopefully tonight when I go back the tires won’t have been stolen.

Cola slept in my bed and I slept on the floor.  I have to wake her soon because I have to go to school this morning.  We’ll have a quick breakfast and coffee upstairs with Howard.  I’m pretty sure Howard will appreciate Cola’s visit, but he will also be baffled.  I like to throw Howard off now and then.  He never knows what to expect from me and I’m entertained by that.

And it’s late, gotta wake her up, but I’ll end with today’s theme song which unavoidably has to be “Lola” by The Kinks.


previous Grimm 176: Postmodern Abduction

next Grimm 178: Wall Grimm’s Entourage

For a chronological list of links to all the journal entries, refer to the Journal Entries Index Page

For posts that aren’t journal entries, feel free to explore the Categories in the left side bar or the other pages above, including the Character Directories which list the posts each character is mentioned in.

Categories: JOURNAL ENTRIES 171-185 | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , | 16 Comments

“The Journal of Wall Grimm” 176: Postmodern Abduction

April 7, 2014


Friday morning, Olivia said she’d drive me home which would be quicker than the train.  At the last minute before we were out the door, she grabbed my journal from me, ran to her bedroom, locked herself in, then came out and told me she hid it.  Ummm….ok?  She had a key to her bedroom and slipped it into her underwear.  Believe it or not, the abduction of my journal distracted me from even wanting to venture there to access the key.  My journal is an object which people seem to want to covet, and I guess it’s the next best thing to stealing me.  She told me it was collateral for my return.  I wasn’t going to leave it so she said I’d just have to stay.  Not that staying and fucking her would have been a bad thing, but I was a new Grimm, a responsible Grimm, and it might only take me one slip, no matter how small, to set me back into my old ways.

The irony is that my methods to overcome this situation got me into trouble.

We talked more and she was unrelenting.  Fuck that.  I lit a cigarette, walked over to her window, and lit her curtains on fire with my lighter.  Once she put the fire out, I set one of her throw pillows on fire, which she put out.  I told her we’re not playing her game anymore, it’s my game now, and to give me back my fucking journal.  I began to break various items, one at a time, and wait for her reaction.  I can’t be blamed for being a child, it was her fault, she started it.

When she had enough, she went into the kitchen and came back with a butcher knife.  I said, “ok you want to kill me?  go ahead and fucking kill me.”  She approached me and pressed the knife below the middle of my ribcage.  “Go ahead. do it.”  It was obvious that she was enjoying every minute of this, and though I also was getting kind of an adrenalin surge out of it, I just got more pissed off.  I figured if I stuck my hand down her panties, I’d cave and fuck her and she’d win.  Sounds childish, but I had to go to school and work.  She was some kind of succubus obstacle trying to seduce new Grimm away from his righteousness.  Bitch.

She put her hand on my lower back and pulled me forward causing the knife to jab into me, but not penetrate.  I took the lighter and lit it and held it up to her hair.  I told her that she had three choices: 1. kill me, 2. get her hair set on fire, 3. give me my journal back.  I wouldn’t really have set her hair on fire, so I hoped she wouldn’t call my bluff.  She threw the knife to the side, slapped the lighter out of my hand, then shoved me, tripping me up by positioning her lower leg to get her foot behind my ankles, then pushing me over that so I fell, and she got on top of me and started kissing me.  Strange to say I wasn’t in the mood.

I said, “you’re not as much of an eccentric artiste as you attempt to portray, you’re not pulling it off, you’re just an unfulfilled, well-to-do, uncreative, perverted bitch.”  Then she punched me in the face.  I almost wanted to laugh.  I’ve been slapped in the face by girls, for some reason they like to hit me, but never punched.  I expected a slap so the punch took me off guard.  It barely hurt since I’m used to being punched by people as strong as Bogart.  I pushed her off and she started climbing all over me as I tried to get up, telling me to fuck her and she’ll give the journal back.  I figured I just needed to get into her room, lock myself in, then rummage until I found it myself.  We struggled, but it wasn’t a huge struggle since I’m stronger than her.  It’s just hard to wrestle with a woman like that without hurting her, but I didn’t hurt her.

Finally I pinned her down and retrieved the key from her panties.  She was wet and I got hard, and I paused for a minute because the whole dick/brain switch kicked in and I was tempted to fuck her.  But then I decided I didn’t want her to win, so brain took over, much to dick’s disappointment.  I got up to my feet.  She still tried to bring me down and stop me, but I made it into her bedroom, slammed the door and locked it.  I turned and the first place I looked was under a pillow on her bed and there it was.  I’m guessing she just wanted me back in the bedroom and I would’ve seen it right away.

I sat on her bed and held my beloved journal thinking about what just happened.  That was fucked up.  She’s fucked up.  And she had the door locked again from the outside so I couldn’t get out, not even with the key.  That’s some messed up locking system she’s got.  Only perverts have a set up like that.  She wouldn’t let me out.  I looked out the window and we were four stories up with no fire escape from her bedroom.  I started talking to her through the door while I pieced together a kind of rope from her bed sheets and some of her clothing.  I make good knots so it was pretty secure.  As I was binding one end of it to the dresser leg–the dresser was heavier than the bed–she starts crying outside the door saying that she loves me.  How the fuck do I meet these people?

I was just like, “no you don’t. you don’t even know me.”  Then I told her to tell me about where she comes from, how she came to be a postmodern photographer, etc. etc. with the intentions of getting her to tell me a long story so I could escape out the window without her knowing, since she’d be talking without my needing to respond.

I almost made it to the sidewalk when the “rope” gave and I fell, spraining my ankle, and landing at the feet of two police officers.  I tried to explain what happened, and they were like, “yeah, she abducted you” being all sarcastic and shit.  They frisked me, handcuffed me, put me in the cruiser, then went up to talk to her.  She told them a tale of horror and suspense and Grimm defamation.

So yeah, I was arrested for breaking and entering, kidnapping, assault and battery, attempted rape, and attempted arson.  At the station, the cops were all laughing at me because of the way I was dressed, still wearing Howard’s father’s 1940’s ensemble, and calling me Casanova.  I heard them mocking me in the background while I called Sharly to tell her I couldn’t be at work that night.  I spent the night in jail and the next day Olivia came and dropped the charges, admitting she fabricated things a little.  Then she admitted she fabricated a lot and told the real story.  They said they could arrest her even if I didn’t want to press charges, just because of the false report.  But she’s a beautiful woman and I assume that’s why they let her off with only the suggestion of getting herself to a psychiatrist.

I took the train home and missed the time frame when I could visit Bogart and I was also late for work.


Well, at least now I’ve been arrested.  That’s a new one for me.  My life’s too interesting for even me sometimes.

And now I’m too baffled for a theme song after writing this.  Think I’ll just ponder life a while.



previous Grimm 175: The Smooth Agent Provocateur

next Grimm 177: Cola and the Caballero

For a chronological list of links to all the journal entries, refer to the Journal Entries Index Page

For posts that aren’t journal entries, feel free to explore the Categories in the left side bar or the other pages above, including the Character Directories which list the posts each character is mentioned in.

Categories: JOURNAL ENTRIES 171-185 | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , | 7 Comments

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