For easier access to individual posts, you can refer to the Journal Entries Index Page where the posts are numbered/titled chronologically with the links to each post.

“The Journal of Wall Grimm” 93: Grimm’s Stupid Friends, Grimm-like Stealth, & Vanilla K

May 16, 2013

Last night, John, Jay, and Randy took me to a strip club to surprise me.  It must have been Randy’s idea because he hates me.  I told them they were fucking stupid because I can’t drink so how am I supposed to go into a strip club.  I said I’d wait outside, and I pocketed Jay’s pack of cigarettes and lighter.

He said, “what am I gonna do for smokes?”

“Fend for yourself dipshit.” I was so pissed off.

Anyway, they went in and I just leaned outside the club and smoked.  They’re lucky it stopped raining.  At some point I had to take a piss, so I went out back behind the building.  As I was pissing I saw this girl come out of the back exit.  This big guy followed her out, shouting at her but I didn’t hear what he was saying.  I stopped pissing then, my bladder kind of froze up, so I did up my pants and tried to hear what that guy was saying.  I couldn’t tell.  The acoustics out back made it all muffled and echoey.

She tried to walk away but he grabbed her arm roughly, pulled her then slammed her against the wall.  He put his hand on her throat and started shouting and pointing in her face with his other hand.  I decided to get involved. They didn’t see me there and this guy was well deserving of a hard sucker punch to the kidneys, so that’s exactly what I did.  Especially since as I approached with Grimm-like stealth (which is very stealthy) I saw him retrieving a switchblade from his inside coat pocket.  So I punched him hard in the kidney and he doubled over long enough for me to punch the fucker in the head.  That brought him down to his hands and knees. Now I’m not one to kick a man when he’s down, but I did it, because I could tell he was dangerous, and I was protecting that girl.  So I kicked him in the same kidney and he fell over sideways.

He leaned up but was partly on his back and held the knife out in front of him.  I reached out to the girl who came over and stood behind me. I said to him that we were going to walk away and does he have a problem with that.  I said if he did then we’d solve the problem right then and there but he probably wouldn’t be satisfied with the ending.

There was a pause and I suspected that he was going to jump up at me but the girl said, “We’re going.  Come on let’s go.”

She started to walk towards the front of the building but I was a little apprehensive about turning my back on that guy.  He nodded at me then started to stand.  He said, “Get the fuck out of here.  This ain’t your business.”

That girl walked fast so I had to catch up with her, turning back a few times to see the guy standing up slowly and brushing himself off, peering at her as she continued on without looking back. I said to her, “Are you ok?” She said, “Yeah.”  Then she stopped, looked at me and it looked like she was going to cry and said, “Thank you.”  Then she continued walking.

“Do you need any help?”

“I need something to drink.  Come with me to get something to drink?”

“I don’t drink.  …anymore.”

She laughed.  “I mean coffee.  Or something.  I’m thirsty, tired.  I want coffee.”

“Ok yeah.”

She told me her name was Vanilla K.  When I said my name was Grimm, she said we were like Yin and Yang.  We went into Dunkin’ Donuts.  I bought her a water, a juice, and a coffee.  Got myself a decaf.  It’s hard to drink caffeine now unless it’s morning because I don’t sleep well anymore.  I don’t take any shit to help me sleep.  I even avoid Tylenol PM just to stay away from the potential of an emerging cycle.  Decaf coffee from most places tastes like shit though because it’s rarely a fresh pot.

We sat and she asked about my nose.  I told her about the gangsta, took my tweed cap off to show her the stitches.  She said, “I think you like to fight.”

“I don’t mind it.  I don’t start it.  Most times.”  Then I told her I recently got out of detox and that’s where it happened.

She said she had a good feeling about me, as if she could trust me, even though she trusts no one.  I said I’ve been known to give people good feelings.

She laughed because she caught the look in my eye which is like a smirk without my changing my facial expression.

I said, “You laugh a lot for a sad person.”

“How do you know I’m sad?”

“How do you know you can trust me?”

“I laugh when things are funny.  I try to appreciate the good things when they happen.  No matter how simple.”

“Yeah, me too.”

“You don’t laugh much though.”

“How do you know.”

“You’re amused by a lot of things but you seldom laugh.  And you’re a hard person to get close to even though you’re friendly.”

“What makes you so keen.”

“I’m a stripper.”

“Ah, you really have to delve deep into human nature and know your clientele if you want to both get the tips and stay safe.”


“So, if I may ask, why are you a stripper?”

“I have no choice.”

“No choice?  Like, literally?”


“Can you get out?”

“Not now but I will.  I have a daughter with the club owner.  She’s seven.  It’s complicated.  It’ll take some time to get out.  There’s a lot I need to do.  Things aren’t right there.  I need to fix some things.  I’m forced to strip.”

“I want to help you.”

“No, I can do it.  Better I do it alone.”

“Is your daughter safe?”

“For the time being, yeah.”

I gave her my cell number and told her to call me if she ever needed anything at all.  I persisted in offering my help, but she insisted she didn’t need any.  She said she’s never told anyone these things before, but it felt good to tell me, like letting the words that were so heavy just slip into a void and drift off into nothingness, so that for a moment she was herself adrift in nothingness, briefly free of all her burdens.

We talked about music, mostly The Clash and Billie Holiday, and she said she was a fan of Maroon 5.  I told her about my situation with Paula and she said it sounds like I’m in the sex business too.  I was like, “wwhaaat???”

“Sounds like you’re a gigolo.”

“No, no way.”

“You have sex with her and she provides room and board, and gives you spending money, buys you clothes.  What does that sound like?”

“Sounds like…I’m a gigolo.”  Then I laughed.

“Hey you laughed.”

I laughed more. “See, I’m no gigolo.  Gigolos don’t laugh.”

“You made that up.”

“Yeah I did.  But it’s true.”

We talked for a couple hours while my stupid friends were getting their rocks off at the club.  They came in to get me, figuring I’d be in either a park or a Dunkin’ Donuts.  I said a quick goodbye to Vanilla K before my friends could embarrass me, and I took off with them.

I like meeting people who remind me of reality.  I go out there and try to find joy in life, and I get distracted by trivial things.  Reminders of reality help me to consider my own condition, and appreciate who I am, and regardless of what I’ve done with my life, I’m reminded to appreciate the things I have that are important.  Family, friends, a good mind, and I’m a good person.

I thought about Vanilla K for the rest of the night, even as I laid in bed unable to sleep, hoping for her to soon be free of that world and safe and happy with her daughter.


previous Grimm 92: “Demons” by Imagine Dragon

next Grimm Road Trip 1: Avast Ye Mateys!

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.

Vanilla K is loosely based on reality.  She is a character by Kira at  For Vanilla’s side of the story, click here:

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“The Journal of Wall Grimm” 92: “Demons” by Imagine Dragon

May 14, 2013

My name is Wall Grimm and this is my new favorite song.  The lyrics really mean something.  Something to me, something to everyone in some way probably.  The lines “your eyes, they shine so bright, I want to save their light, I can’t escape this now, unless you show me how” remind me of Emma.  So I have to write these lyrics down in my journal, because they reach me.

When the days are cold
And the cards all fold
And the saints we see
Are all made of gold
When your dreams all fail
And the ones we hail
Are the worst of all
And the blood’s run stale
I want to hide the truth
I want to shelter you
But with the beast inside
There’s nowhere we can hide
No matter what we breed
We still are made of greed
This is my kingdom come
This is my kingdom come
When you feel my heat
Look into my eyes
It’s where my demons hide
It’s where my demons hide
Don’t get too close
It’s dark inside
It’s where my demons hide
It’s where my demons hide
When the curtain’s call
Is the last of all
When the lights fade out
All the sinners crawl
So they dug your grave
And the masquerade
Will come calling out
At the mess you made
Don’t want to let you down
But I am hell bound
Though this is all for you
Don’t want to hide the truth
No matter what we breed
We still are made of greed
This is my kingdom come
This is my kingdom come
When you feel my heat
Look into my eyes
It’s where my demons hide
It’s where my demons hide
Don’t get too close
It’s dark inside
It’s where my demons hide
It’s where my demons hide
They say it’s what you make
I say it’s up to fate
It’s woven in my soul
I need to let you go
Your eyes, they shine so bright
I want to save their light
I can’t escape this now
Unless you show me how
When you feel my heat
Look into my eyes
It’s where my demons hide
It’s where my demons hide
Don’t get too close
It’s dark inside
It’s where my demons hide
It’s where my demons hide


previous Grimm 91: Looking Spruce, Out With Mom, & Wall Grimm’s Drug Philosophy

next Grimm 93: Grimm’s Stupid Friends, Grimm-like Stealth, & Vanilla K

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” 91: Looking Spruce, Out With Mom, & Wall Grimm’s Drug Philosophy

May 14, 2013

Paula took me out and got me some fancy duds to make me dapper for my mom.  Black pants, so classy I should call them trousers.  Nice black shoes and socks, collared shirt and she even bought me a tweed cap to hide my stitches and the bald spot in the back of my head.  I had this shit already but my stuff got transported to Pete’s new place and I haven’t gone there yet.  So yeah, I was looking spruce.

She took me to get her flowers and chocolate and a card, then loaned me her car and gave me money to take my mom to Barnes and Noble.  My mom loves it there.  So do I.  I picked my mom up, she loved the stuff, and we went there to have a light lunch and coffee.  First we wandered around the store to look for books to buy or just to read while we sat in the café.  I was looking through some books at one point and my balls got really itchy.  I was trying to relieve myself of that discomfort discretely but it wasn’t happening.  So I just reached down my pants into my underwear and started scratching.  From around the corner appears a freakin’ beautiful tall black girl.  She saw me with my hand down my pants.  Wait, I forgot, I was all classy and shit.  I have to call them trousers.

I just stood there frozen for a second with my hand in my trousers, then slowly took my hand out as we made eye contact.  She was kind of smirking.  I said, “sorry, I was just…uh…scratching my balls…”  She laughed, which was good, but then I got an unexpected whack in the arm from my mom.  Where the hell did she come from?  She just kinda sidled up to me.  I had no idea she was there.  She whacks my arm and says, “Are you my son?!  You can’t be my son.”  Then she says, “Sorry for my son,” to the girl.  The girl just said, “it’s ok,” smiled and walked away.  She had an accent, sounded kind of French.  I wanted to talk to her and get her number or something, but I had to focus on my mom, it was her day.  Besides, I’m trying to control my urges and be respectful to Paula.  Also, I felt like a 12 year old the way my mom responded to the situation.  But ah, whatever, it was mother’s day, so yeah, she could do whatever moms do.  She said, “Valente, I thought I raised you to be a gentleman.”  I said, “I am a gentleman, but I was startled into brutal honesty.”  My mom prefers not to call me Grimm, or Wall, though she does sometimes.  And I actually call her Mama, but when I talk about her, I refer to her as my mom.

We picked out books and sat to have pesto sandwiches, soup, tiramisu, and cheese cake, with Pellegrino, and caramel cappuccinos.  I felt sophisticated, even though I kept my hat on.  A gentleman should remove his hat indoors, but I was hiding the stitches.  Couldn’t hide the black eyes and busted nose though.  But yeah, this sophistication is a genuine part of me that I’ve neglected for a long time.  I am seriously an intellect despite my recent bouts of idiosy.  I’m smart, educated, I’ve always liked to read and have clever conversations.  Sitting there with my mom, I recall how I was always the one people went to when they had problems.  I was the one they sought for advice, or help, or support.  Somehow I became the pathetic one that people either wanted to avoid, or felt compelled to pamper or pity.  What the fuck have I been doing with my life?  I don’t know what the fuck is wrong with me.  I have a philosophy about drugs though.

My name is Wall Grimm, and this is my philosophy about drugs.


Drugs make it so you don’t care, nothing matters, being high just makes everything ok.  You suffer a lot, from the drugs, but you get high even to deal with that pain.  Drugs are self perpetuating.  You start doing drugs for one reason or another, but eventually, you need to continue doing drugs to deal with the shit in your life that’s caused by doing drugs.

Anyway, I sat there with my mom, feeling like a man, then I’d glance at my mom and wish to be a child again.  It fucking sucks.  I want to start over, I want to go back.  I want her to hold me and say, “everything’s going to be all right, mommy’s here.”  That’s what she’d always say.  And if she wasn’t necessarily accurate about that, at least for that moment, it was true.  I feel embarrassed just to write that shit, like I’m such a pussy.  I remember seeing “Saving Private Ryan” and at the opening sequence there was this soldier with his guts blown out, I think that was his problem, I can’t remember, but anyway, he was calling out, “mommy! mommy!”  And I thought, yeah that would be me.  Is that so bad really?  Good moms I guess.  Moms are just symbolic of nurturing and comfort and childhood safety.  So as you become a man, and things get bad, you gotta stay a man, but there’s that part of you that wants to go back.  But you man up because you have to, otherwise you’re a pussy.  That’s just a fact, I didn’t make it up.  Thing is, you’re expected to man up from a very early age.

But my mom’s a beautiful Italian woman and we talked about some things, nothing serious, just memories and current stuff.  I could tell she held back.  I knew she had tons of questions about my life, the way I was living it, and even about Paula.  The fact that I’m with Paula baffles her.

So yeah it was a nice day with my mom, I made her happy, which is good, that’s what I wanted to do.  But I kinda made myself a little sad in the process.  I’m ok with that though, it was worth it to make her happy.


previous Grimm 90: Hasty Hates Paula, the Impending Road Trip, and Mother’s Day

next Grimm 92: “Demons” by Imagine Dragon

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” 90: Hasty Hates Paula, the Impending Road Trip, and Mother’s Day

May 11, 2013

I’m at Paula’s still.  I haven’t even gone to see Pete’s new place yet, that would be my new place too once I move in.  I haven’t seen anyone since the party.  I haven’t left Paula’s at all.  She asks if I want to go for a ride or a hike or do something, but I just want to stay here.  When she’s at work, it’s nice to have complete solitude.  I’ve communicated via txt with people, not much, mostly Hasty.  We’ve been talking about taking a road trip and I think I’d like to do that.  Me, Hasty, Patrick, and maybe Pete if he can get the time off from work.  Maybe a road trip and then I can restart my life.

Sharly said I could come back to the bookstore.  She said that she knows I’ll have struggles, but that I’m trying and I was always responsible before.  She also trusts me even though I took her money.  She knows I was planning to pay it back, but once again she’s let me off the hook.  She’s too good to me.  So I’ll probably go back to work there eventually.  We talked about starting off slowly, with fewer hours, and she’d be working with me, I wouldn’t be alone.  Again, it’s not because of distrust, as she put it, more just as a support system.

I’m avoiding Dave, though he’s been texting me.  I finally just texted, “look just fuck off, we can’t hang out, not now.”  He texted back “bbbbbut why? :( “   He’s so fucking clueless.

One funny thing was going on in the dynamic at the party.  Hasty decided, I think, to hate Paula.  She said to me, “I’m jealous, I want to cut that bitch.”  But of course, Hasty is the most harmless person, so it was just cute.  She’s cute and I love that she’s jealous.  I like when people get possessive of me, until it becomes an imposition.  I don’t think Hasty could ever impose.  Paula said later, “I don’t think your friend likes me.”  I said, “yeah she hates you.”  Then she was just horrified and confused.  I said, “Don’t take it personally, it’s a Hasty thing.”  She was just like shocked because no one’s every hated her before.  I told her to join the club, it always dumbfounds me when I’m hated.  But it’s always the most awesome people who get the haters, right?  Yeah, that’s the way it is.

I realized that tomorrow is mother’s day so I have to get my mother a present, but I feel kind of unworthy because I don’t think I’ve been a very good son.  I think I should just apologize and take off because I feel too ashamed to face her.  But I’ll man up and try to do something nice.  She was a good mom.  She was at home with me until I went to school.  Then when I went to school I hated it and I just wanted to be home with her.  We’d do crafts and bake cookies and play games.  She’d take me to the library for activities and story times and to get tons of books.  I liked when she’d read to me.  Sometimes she’d make voices for the characters and I didn’t like that so I’d tell her to stop.  Then she’d have to start the story over from the beginning.  If she made a mistake, I’d make her start over too.  And when it was a story I was really familiar with, I’d recognize when she’d skip a word or a line, so I’d make her start over.  I guess I was just a little pain in the ass.

My mom was such an awesome mom, still is, but I’m just not a little boy anymore.  I guess sometimes I wish I could go back to the times when I was a kid and I was really sick and she would sometimes sleep on the floor by my bed when I’d have a hard time breathing.  Or if I had high fevers, she would cool me down with a cold cloth.  Once I had such bad infections in my knees from falling that I couldn’t walk, so she had to carry me to really hot baths.  It was like I grew up knowing that no matter what bad shit was going on, my mother would be there for me, to take care of me to protect me.  But there were things I couldn’t tell her, because I didn’t want to break her heart.  I knew even at a really young age that she pained when I was hurt, and she suffered for me.  So I didn’t want to tell her about some things, because I wanted to spare her the grief.  Then as I got older, there were just more and more things I had to hide in order to protect her.  Eventually I guess I distanced myself.  I could only see myself as a source of agony for her, and I was compelled to guard her from the suffering I would have caused her.

So now it’s mother’s day tomorrow, and I think maybe I’ll get Paula to help me figure out what to do for my mom because I want it to be really good and maybe Paula can help me if I need money to get her something nice.  It’ll be cool because I guess I’ve been so self-centered lately, I should take the time to consider someone else, especially someone who will unconditionally always be there for me.


previous Grimm 89: The Welcome Home

next Grimm 91: Looking Spruce, Out With Mom, & Wall Grimm’s Drug Philosophy

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.

Hasty is based on herself at  and Patrick is based on himself at 

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“The Journal of Wall Grimm” 89: The Welcome Home

Still May 9, 2013

So after we got back from the restaurant my parents went home and I went to Paula’s.  I was hoping to do that first thing because obviously I was really horny, not having sex for so long.  I like to start off sex with a blow job.  I cum, then the real sex begins.  Because then I go down on the girl and give her multiple orgasms with the magic workings of my tongue, lips, and fingers.  The process makes me hard again because I love to do it.  I love doing it and I love making a woman cum like that while my face is between her legs, hearing her moan and breathe with her hands pushing my head deeper between her thighs, her body convulsing from orgasms.  Makes me horny just talking about it.  Then, I fuck her.  And she orgasms more and that feels really good for me.  And since I’ve already cum, I can last a long time and the sex is awesome.  You can really exhaust a woman that way.  Paula is in love with me because of it I think.

She said after that she loved me and was afraid to lose me.  She knows that Pete has a new apartment and I’m supposed to go live with him, but she doesn’t want me to go.  She wants me to stay with her.  She’s a sophisticated woman but she was sounding like an insecure little girl.  I hate that though.  I don’t like to be responsible for someone else’s self esteem.  And the pressure to make a decision on someone else’s behalf kind of detaches me a little.  Because I could go live with Pete and easily stay involved with Paula.  But I’m feeling a little clinged to, which puts me off.  I like to make choices based on a decent combination of what I want and what is respectful of other people.  I don’t like to make decisions based on a sense of obligation.

The reality of it is that I’m in love with Emma and if Emma wanted me I’d drop Paula in a heart beat.  Also, I was so willing to cheat on her in rehab because I was horny and the only reason I didn’t was the lack of opportunity.  Honestly I don’t know why I’m with Paula.  I like her a lot and I care about her, but I think it just came out of convenience to start.  I wasn’t intentionally using her, I’d never want to hurt her.  I’m happy being with her and I don’t want to end that.  But I think I’m just kind of along for the ride and I’m realizing that’s not respectful.  She was just so cool and mature, I thought she was beyond these kind of attachments that younger girls have.  I also have this clarity now.  And my mini lobotomy is not hindering me from recognizing the consequences of my actions, so that kinda sucks.

But anyway, so we fucked and then she wanted to go for a ride, and she took me to this house that turned out to be Sharly’s.  Sharly was throwing a welcome home party for me.  Everyone was there.  Everyone but Dave.

There was Sharly, of course, and her girlfriend, me and Paula, my parents, my sister, Pete, Hasty, Patrick, Hasty’s Husband, Jay, John, Jeff, Morgan, Ayla, Danika, my old landlord don’t ask me why, Randy even though he kind of hates me, Lauren and her parents were there which was kind of weird, Emma’s roommate Gwen, and yes, even Emma.  There were some other friends I don’t see much but they’re out a lot with us and at all the parties.

It was intense to walk in and see all these people.  I both loved and hated it.  I don’t much like to be the center of attention and I’m not really feeling like myself.  And the entire time all I could think is how much I suck that everyone was there and no one could drink so it was kind of like I ruined the life of the party.  I never knew any of these people unless I was drunk or high.  I don’t know them, they don’t know me, I don’t know myself anymore.  It was intense and confusing.  I don’t know how to interact while I’m clean.

I mean, it was really cool of them to do this for me and I appreciated it, but it was just overwhelming I guess.  I guess I kind of was hoping to settle back into my life gradually, not be flooded with it.  I’d been stepped out of it so long starting when I took off to Boston and I avoided all these people.  I don’t mean to sound so negative.  They’re really good to me and supportive.  I just need to figure out how to be a part of this world without the drugs and alcohol.  This was just a huge example of the contrast between the world I was in, and the world as it really is, and how it pertains to me.

I went to the bathroom at one point then after I snuck outside.  It was a little cold and rainy.  Interestingly enough, my first day out and it poured all day on and off.  It was the first rain for over a month.  I like the rain, it makes me feel both powerful and melancholy.  It gives me the freedom for introspection and a deep calm that leaves me alone within my own darkness and it feels comfortable there.

Emma came out while I was there.  She said, “I’m sorry.”

I said, “Why?”

She said she didn’t mean to avoid me, Dickhead wasn’t really her boyfriend either, just a jerk.  She said she didn’t know everything that I’d done to try and reach her.  She said I scared her because she saw what I was doing to myself and she didn’t want to participate in it, or watch it happen.  She saw me on the unstoppable road to death and she didn’t want to see me die, she felt hopeless, so she detached herself from it.  She said she was sorry, she should have been a better friend and tried to help but she knows how stubborn I am, then she laughed unsurely.

I just said, “I don’t want to be your friend.”


“I want to be more.”

She said, “I’m sorry.”  And she touched my face, looked at my black eyes, “Aw, you’re beautiful face.”  Then she hugged me.

It felt so fucking good to have her in my arms I thought, ok, now I can die, I’ve reached the most beautiful level of life possible now, nothing can be more beautiful than this.  She hugged me and at first I just wanted to melt with that feeling, but then I felt awkward and guarded so I released and turned away before I couldn’t fight my urge to grab her and kiss her.  Then we looked out into the woods behind Sharly’s house and said nothing for a little while.

She touched my arm and said, “It’s so good to have you back.”

I turned and decided I would kiss her after all, but then a couple people came out to smoke and said, “There you guys are.”

I succumbed to having a cigarette.  It made me cough and tasted like an ashtray, but it was good and gave me something to do with my hands.  Being clean, I’m finding it’s difficult how to be inside my body, not knowing what to do with it, how to stand, how to move, how to talk, and I have no idea what to do with my hands.


previous Grimm 88: Grimm’s Mini Lobotomy & The Italian Restaurant

next Grimm 90: Hasty Hates Paula, the Impending Road Trip, and Mother’s Day

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.

Patrick is a character based on Patrick at and Hasty is based on Hasty from And Hasty’s husband is based on her husband at

Categories: JOURNAL ENTRIES 76-93 | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , | 33 Comments

“The Journal of Wall Grimm” 88: Grimm’s Mini Lobotomy & The Italian Restaurant

May 9, 2013

I decided against rehab.  I just feel clean and clear and maybe ready to start fresh.  I want to see if I can stay clean, I want to try.  I guess if I mess up, I’m not completely opposed to going to rehab, but right now, I want a little freedom.

As a result of the gangsta’s attack, I have mild and presumably temporary frontal lobe damage.  Which means I may have low inhibition and inappropriate behavior (doesn’t sound like anything new), anger and agitation (yep that too), unaware of the consequences of my actions (nice), and then there’s slowed speech, some specific processing issues like sequencing (yet I seem to be making a list quite well), and apathy, fixation, and other stuff.  So yeah, temporary.  It’s kind of a mini lobotomy I’ve got going on here.  Now I have an excuse to be completely obnoxious and no resource to feel guilty about it or regret my actions in any way.  Awesome.

I fortunately didn’t get any significant damage at the back of my head since my back and shoulders took most of the hit from the chair.  But it was weird because things were kind of fucked up for me for a while.  It would take me some time to recognize people, I often felt really small, everything was distorted, I saw in colors that didn’t make any sense, one of my arms was bizarrely shorter than the other one, I had strange hallucinations like I felt as if there were ghosts all around me.  I’m ok now, although I get a strange electrical like flash now and then like a camera has gone off directly in my face.  It’s taking me a long time to write this journal entry, longer than usual, because I don’t want it to be unclear, so I’m repeating each sentence over and over before I write it so I can avoid mistakes.  It’s kind of annoying.

I have stitches in my shoulders, at the back of my head so I have a huge bald spot now even though my hair was growing in from when I shaved it before.  I have stitches on my forehead.  I have a broken nose so I have two black eyes.

I’m also clean of all drugs and alcohol including caffeine and nicotine.  That’s nuts.  I haven’t been like that since I was probably 9 years old.  There’s an immense pressure to stay this way, and a huge urge to go out and get really fucked up, but I’ll try to fight that for a while.

Paula picked me up yesterday with my parents, so weird to see Paula and my mother together since they’re nearly the same age, I can tell they feel awkward about it.  But Paula’s a nice person and my parents just want me to be happy so they’re hardly going to try to dictate something about my life unless it’s harmful.  We went to a restaurant and passed by a smoker on the way in and the smell of cigarettes almost gave me an orgasm.

Inside the Italian restaurant all I could smell was wine and Sambuca and I wanted liquor so much, it was very distracting.  I don’t remember the last time I had an Italian dinner without red wine, and some Sambuca, and Anisette, and it’s been a while since I’ve had rosolio but I’m wanting it now.  My Nana, God rest her soul, used to make the best rosolio.  I remember sampling new whiskeys that my grandfather used to get.  My dad, my grandfather, and my great uncle and I would sit around with a new whiskey my grandfather got and say, “ahhh bellissimo!” and have long conversations about how good it was and how it compared to others in the past.  Now and then we had cigars.  This was when I was in high school and I felt very Sicilian, like a real Sicilian from Sicily, not like an American.  I also felt like a man, since I was treated like one.  First my great uncle died, then when my grandfather died, things changed.  That was followed by another uncle, my Nana, and then my grandmother.  Now there’s little left to that side of the family besides estranged relatives, and a couple close ones I never see.

Anyway, I have a lot more to say about yesterday but I don’t feel like saying it right now so maybe I’ll make another journal entry later, I have a head ache now and my eyes are getting a little blurry and it’s too much of a struggle to make any sense since the pen feels like it has a heart beat and I’m beginning to lose track of what I’m saying when I repeat the words to myself they have no meaning.  So yeah, later I guess.


previous Grimm 87: A Poem with Hasty

next Grimm 89: The Welcome Home

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.

Hasty is a character based on the one and only Hasty at   Thanks Hasty, this was awesome!

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“The Journal of Wall Grimm” 87: A Poem with Hasty

May 7, 2013

I don’t usually write two journal entries in one day but today Hasty is here right now visiting me in the hospital and she wants to write a poem with me.  She’s something of a poet.  She has to know that she’s privileged if I let her put her hands on my journal, which is currently in this notebook.  Paula says she’d bring me the real journal, but I’ve hidden it well and I don’t want her to read any of it in the transfer so I won’t tell her where I’ve hidden it.  Anyway, Hasty’s still privileged, even though she will be in my presence the entire time.  Now she wants us to co-write a poem.  So in case I get confused in the future, I’ll just say she’s using the darker pen.  Now I’m handing the notebook off to her to start.

You think you are pretty
In your skinny blue jeans
Well, you kind of are
But yea, whatever!

You think you are smarter
Cause you have a nice job
Drive a nice car, iron your shirt
But yeah, whatever!

Ok it seems that Hasty is writing as if she’s me talking to her…hmmmm,  ok so then I will write in the perspective of Hasty as if she’s talking to me, I think I might get confused… I already am, damn.

You're kind of cool
but you're like a demon
a charming yet sinister fool
full of enchanted semen

Get your shit together
you're just a boy in a bed
life doesn't last forever
keep it up and you'll be dead.

You seem happy, big smiles
Pretty teeth, so deceiving
The more you let me see of you
The more I realize you're just like me

There is something about you
Your personality, searching me
I need you in my life, but you will leave
If you see the darkness devouring me

You're just a slab of nothingness
trying to be something
something you are
or maybe something you're not

You need a big slap in the face
not a chair in the back
stand up and be a man
wake up, stand up, and grow up Grimm!

What do you see in me anyway
What makes you keep coming around
Are you really that desperate for company
Are you really as hopeless as me

You have a family, you have a life
And yet you genuinely seem to care
Maybe you just want to fuck me
But really....I think you love me

How could I love you
I don't love losers
I like you because
you give me something to laugh at

Maybe that's a lie
maybe I'm just a kind person
maybe I'm too kind
maybe I should protect myself and go away

You look put together, but you're a mess
You bite your nails, and laugh too much
I don't need a mother if that's why you're here
I don't want to be judged or condemned

I talk a big game, yep and act one too
I have a confident smirky smile I know you like
But you don't seem enchanted or mesmerized
Because without words you see me, the reality

Ok just shut up and stop talking Valente
or should I say, WALL
you are a wall
and walls don't speak

You are beautiful just the way you are GRIMM!!!!!!

Ok I was done but she stole my notebook, after a struggle, a meagre one because she’s so small and I was gentle with her, and she wrote that last line.  She’s a sweetheart, and yeah, I think she’s also sadder than she tends to reveal.


previous Grimm 86: The iPod & The Gangsta

next Grimm 88: Grimm’s Mini Lobotomy & The Italian Restaurant

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.

Hasty is a character based on the one and only Hasty at   Thanks Hasty, this was awesome!

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“The Journal of Wall Grimm” 86: The iPod & The Gangsta

Shortly after visiting hours were over on Saturday, I decided to be an asshole.  I decided that I didn’t want to be nice to anyone, I was sick of everyone, I didn’t want to go to meetings or groups or my individual shit.  Today would have been the day that I would leave detox and either go out on the street to do more drugs, or move on to rehab.  But I didn’t make that decision.  Someone else made that decision for me.  Kind of.

Paula bought me an iPod and had Pete set it up with all my favorite songs.  She brought it to me on Saturday.  I never had an iPod before which sounds unrealistic but it’s something I never had an interest in.  I’m not very fond of technology, which isolates me from my generation.  I’m sick of walking around and living life and seeing everyone with their faces shoved in various pieces of machinery, interacting with each other, but not really.  It’s like everyone is in a cave communicating by smoke signals and every now and then they break out to interact with a real human being, or the speaker at the drive-through at Dunkin Donuts.  Wait, a cave and smoke signals sounds kind of nice, yet I don’t see people so connected with nature.  That’s the thing, I guess I’m just old fashioned.  I mean, I’m kind of shy, but nobody believes that, but I also like people.  So if I’m out in the world, walking down the street or sitting in the park, I don’t talk to people, but I like to watch them, because they’re interesting.  There are a dwindling few people watchers left in the world.  People alone in the park will be closed off in their technological box, too afraid to be alone with themselves, hiding from real interaction, and hiding from the experience of being human that makes us curious creatures.  People watching was always a way to learn about human nature and as well a way for us to evolve somewhat within ourselves.  So now, we don’t interact, we don’t understand each other, we don’t take the time to observe human nature that doesn’t directly relate to ourselves.  It’s a sci fi world out there and we are becoming fucking robots.  I just want humanity back, and I don’t want to be a part of this shit that my generation is.  Technology is beneficial in many ways, but that’s the thing, human beings often fail at moderation.

Yet now I have an iPod.  And now I see the value, at least in this realm of my world, of isolating myself.  I want to hide in my mind for a while, I want nothing to do with these people.  So I’ve been an asshole.  They say “Grimm, you have to go to group now.”  “Fuck you I don’t want to go, fuck you I ain’t going, fuck you.”  Eventually, since they want to address my issues in a compassionate way and subtly force me to go, I say, “Fuck you fine I’ll go but I’m not talking so fuck you.”

So that’s the way I’ve been for the past couple days.  Things are just getting to me.  I haven’t slept well in over a week.  I get really sick to my stomach now and then, but at least I’m not vomiting anymore, though food doesn’t appeal to me.  All I want is fucking chocolate.  I’m craving the shit.  There’s one nurse who always has chocolate, not because of me but she brings it to work every day.  I just know when she has it so I go to the nurses station and give her my pathetic begging dog look, “I want chocolate.”  She says no but I say, “Please just one piece.”  So she caves and gives me a bit.  Yesterday she was like, “ok something’s wrong with Grimm, he’s not asking for chocolate.”  I just didn’t have the appetite for it.  I haven’t eaten since Saturday night.

But the iPod helped me to hide away, go in my own world, and try to find traces of myself that used to be.  Not just before detox, but before drugs.  I have to go way back to when I was a small child to when things were perfect for me.  But I don’t even remember back then because it was so long ago and I was so young.  It’s like just at the time in my life when memories began to form, shit started happening.  So I speed back up in my mind and find Emma, and the time in my life when we were best friends, and it was good and we were happy.  I fucked up.  I fucked it up bad by trying to have more, and then she saw me for what I was, a fucking loser.  I miss Emma, I mourn her like she died or something.  It begins to make me resentful of her.  I feel like she’s abandoned me.  Why has she avoided me?  We were best friends, why can’t she even talk to me?  And the time she offered, I was trapped in a crap frame of mind and looking disgusting.

Anyway, yesterday I was listening to “Do it Again” by the Chemical Brothers, and just trying to feel high, trying to escape.  I was kind of dancing and getting lost in the song trying to bring myself back to feeling like I was on ecstasy, and thinking, ‘fuck this, I’m not going to rehab, I need to get high until I’m fucking dead, that’s all there is to it’ and then the gangsta comes up behind me and slams me against my shoulders and the back of my head with a chair so hard it brings me down.  Then he gets over me and punches me in the back of my head twice, which slams my face into the hard common room floor.  I guess he hates me since I’ve been an asshole.  He wanted to have the Tear of Grimm on his face, magic number 11.

He was such a pussy to come at me from behind.  I was able to twist myself around after the second blow, despite my disorientation.  I rallied and fought back, but not for long before those guys came in to restrain us.  My blood was everywhere.  I was bleeding from both the front and the back of my head, and my nose.  A couple nurses were like, “you can’t restrain him when he’s got a head injury.”  And they couldn’t sedate me even though I was yelling and fighting.  The other guy got restrained.  I think I eventually just lost consciousness, I don’t remember.  I do know that at first, the staff wanted to blame me, but the other patients backed me up.  I was just defending myself.

So now I’m in the hospital and the gangsta is in jail I think.  Which is where he belongs.  You kill ten people, what the hell are you doing out of jail??  My shoulders are bruised up with a couple open wounds from the chair that were stitched up, since I didn’t have a shirt on.  I have a broken nose, a concussion and a little damage to my brain.  Great, just what I need in life is brain damage.  I don’t notice anything yet besides some slow thinking, slow processing.  Maybe that’s all I’ll have, not so bad I guess.  But my head is killing me and I feel so sick to my stomach.  They won’t give me more than acetaminophen for the pain, which sucks.  Not that the pain requires morphine, but morphine would be nice.

And yeah, a hospital stay is biding my time a little.  I think I’ll be leaving tomorrow.  Still as of yet undecided about rehab.  I’m thinking it depends which part of me steps up to plate:  The motivated part who wants to quit being a loser and try to make something of myself, still with ambitions to get Emma.  Or the part of me who is utterly hopeless.


previous Grimm 85: Sex, Paula, Sex, Exercise, Sex, Wall Grimm the Arrogant Asshole, Sex

next Grimm 87: A Poem with Hasty

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 76-93 | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 33 Comments

“The Journal of Wall Grimm” 85: Sex, Paula, Sex, Exercise, Sex, Wall Grimm the Arrogant Asshole, Sex

I think I’m figuring out the dates again.  Today is May 5, oh what the fuck Cinco de Mayo now I want a fucking margarita.  I wish I didn’t try so hard to figure out the date today.  I feel like leaving detox so I can go out for margaritas and tequila.  Last year or two ago I made the tequila challenge at a bar and swallowed the worm.  Chewed it even.  I got my name on a plaque on the wall and they gave me a tee-shirt and a sombrero.

Ok enough about liquor.  Now onto sex.

The other day I decided that I’m not horny enough to entice Maeve to fuck me.  I’m definitely horny enough to be immoral to a certain extent, but not so horny that the immorality will lead me to ruin someone’s life just so I can fuck them.  She came to me shortly after I made that choice, as if she felt the psychic pull of my hormones dissipate.  She said she was sorry about what she said, it was inappropriate and unprofessional and that her role as a nurse is to always make choices based on the benefit of the patients.  Then she said, “I don’t know, there’s just something about you.”

I just said ok thank you and pretended I had no clue what she was talking about which seemed to baffle her.  She was like, “you know what I’m referring to right?”

I shook my head and then she got all embarrassed and apologized again and rushed off to do nursey things.  I wasn’t trying to fuck with her I just want to avoid all responsibility for that initial interaction, because I really didn’t do anything at all…I don’t think.  I just stood a little close and released some pheromones.  I do that all the time, I can’t help it.  I’m like an animal.  Anyway, so since she apologized, she seems to try to avoid me and feel really uncomfortable around me, but I catch her staring at me sometimes, or laughing a little too loud with the other nurses like a girl showing off in front of a guy she’s crushing on.  So yeah, that’s just getting weird.

Yesterday, we got to have visitors.  I only called Paula because I was hoping I could try to sneak some sex in.  I met her at the front and we went into the common room.  The woman who pisses me off introduced herself to Paula and said “you must be Grimm’s mother.”  I stepped in before Paula could say anything and I said.  “Yes, she is.”  I turned to Paula and said, “Thank you for coming to see me Mommy.”  And I kissed her, passionately, tongue and everything.

I’ve never actually seen someone’s jaw drop before, but I’ve heard the expression, now I fully understand what that’s like because the woman who pissed me off, her jaw literally dropped.  It was like the lower part of her face completely unhinged.  She slowly backed away and left the room discretely.  I think I traumatized her.  It’s bad but I can’t help but think it’s funny.  I want to do it again.

It was impossible to sneak sex.  I plotted every possible scenario, but we could not be alone for a minute.  My dick was as hard as a rock most of the day because he was so eager.  What an optimist.

My name is Wall Grimm and my dick is an optimist.

Paula and I kissed a little now and then and I just kept telling her how hard I wanted to fuck her.  I whispered graphic descriptions of what I wanted to do to her.  That just got me harder and I nearly came in my jeans.  I’m so horny I don’t know how these people are getting by without sex, I don’t get it.  How do they do it?

One thing I’ve begun doing to help with the drug and alcohol and now sex cravings is I’ve been working out.  I was always in shape, but now I’m building some kind of lean muscle.  I’ve been doing the treadmill and some weights.  Within less than a week I’m already noticing a difference.  Paula noticed too, she was touching my chest and arms and she was like, “oh, nice.”  That didn’t help.  You know, when a woman touches your body and says ‘oh, nice’ it’s kind of a turn on.

Ok, enough about sex.  I have a dilemma.  The time’s approaching when I need to decide whether or not to continue on to rehab.  Part of me is considering it.  Here’s my reasoning for and against it.  I never wanted to come here in the first place, I was not ready to come.  I still feel like I haven’t fully done all the drugs and drinking that I wanted to do, it’s not out of my system in that respect.  So I keep thinking about when I’m done here, I’m going to go out and get drunk off my ass and high as hell.  But then part of me is considering rehab because I keep thinking if I don’t fully ingrain the new sobriety into my way of thinking and living, then I will never succumb to detox again since it sucked so badly.  Getting me here prematurely might have put me off from ever coming back whenever I might actually be ready.  So yeah I’m confused and I don’t have much more time to make such a choice.  Meanwhile I’m jerking off to Cosmopolitan magazines, but those girls are so tall and skinny they freak me out, they’re like giant dolls.  I prefer shorter girls with some flesh to grab and shove my face into.  Boney girls give me bruises.  But I’d take anything right now.  No younger than 18 but otherwise any age.  Any height, any weight, any race, creed, religion.  Must be female.  Must be human.

This morning I’m sitting here writing this and of course I have an erection as I sit in the common room in nothing more than my boxer briefs.  I don’t know how I slipped by the nurses, they usually tell me to put clothes on.  I’ve got to entertain myself somehow.  I need to start some trouble.  I want to get in trouble.  I want to piss people off.  I want to hoard the apple hoarder’s apples.  I want to mash the potato shooter’s potatoes.  I want to sexually harass the nurses.  I want to start a fight with any of these men here, besides B. B. King.  That includes the gangsta with the ten tear tattoos on his face.  That means he’s killed ten people.  I just need adrenalin rushes, a mad supply of them.  So far only running on the treadmill has staved off a lot of built up anger, but I need something more.

Ok a nurse just came in and told me I had to get dressed.  The woman who pisses me off must have told her I was in my underwear.  I saw her from across the room looking under the table at me while I was writing.  I think she just liked too much what she was seeing and that made her uncomfortable.

Detox is making me an arrogant asshole.  Maybe the cool Grimm is the high and drunk Grimm.  Maybe, in reality, I’m not cool at all.


previous Grimm 84: Wall Grimm’s Tale of Sex and Woe in Detox

next Grimm 86: The iPod & The Gangsta

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 76-93 | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 8 Comments

“The Journal of Wall Grimm” 84: Wall Grimm’s Tale of Sex and Woe in Detox

April whatever.

Wait no, it’s May.

I need sex.  I know that much.

I decided that I’m pissed off all the time, in part, because I need sex.  The question is, how to get it here in detox.  So here is my story about sex and detox.

My name is Wall Grimm, and this is my story.


Ok well the woe is already obvious as it has been the focus of my journaling.  This is the sex bit of it.  I decided to target this cute nurse intern named Maeve.  This was the day after I was restrained, which I didn’t tell the entire version of the story.  When they came in while I was smashing a chair against the wall, they tried to talk me down first, aka de-escalate me.  But I hit that peak of rage you get when you’re unable to see.  And the adrenalin felt so fucking good, the best high I’d had in a while.  So I wasn’t about to be talked down so easily.  Anyway, one of them came a little too close so I shoved him pretty hard.  He fell backwards over another chair.  Then they all jumped in.  There were 5 of them total, three men, two women, and they were trained to be fast.  It was the men who restrained me.  The guy I pushed was mid-fall when one guy was grabbing me and handing my arms crossed in front up around in back to another guy.  I started to squirm and kick so they leaned me back, I felt like I was going to fall on my head, then they brought me down and one of them wrapped their arms around my legs when I started kicking.  I was completely immobilized and all I could do is yell and swear.  At first out of anger, then out of mental anguish because I couldn’t move.  It felt very violating, I didn’t feel safe like that, so I just kept yelling.  I was trying to break free but it was impossible.  So I yelled and struggled until I was exhausted and then I just broke down and cried.  It really sucked.

Anyway, so the next day I decided to be suave.  I got myself all cleaned up all fixed up, dressed up nice in my jeans and tee-shirt, and I went to the nurse’s station.  I said to Maeve, “can I talk to you for a minute?”  She stepped out and we moved a few feet away, within sights of the station but if we talked softly we wouldn’t be heard.  She said, “what’s up?”  I said, “I don’t know…ummmmmm…” and I looked in her eyes, hoping she’d know what I was up to, giving her the opportunity to make it happen or deter it.  She smiled and said, “what’s on your mind?”

“What do you think is on my mind?”

“You don’t want to know.”

“Then you’re probably right.”

“I think I’m going to end this conversation right here.”  She began to walk away.


She turned.  I gestured with my head for her to come back and she did.  Then I knew she would fuck me if she didn’t think it was inappropriate, because she was so easily beckoned back even though she knew what I wanted.  The young nurses get flattered first, they’re female above all, before they put that shield up and create the boundaries.  Some of them have the boundaries in place already, but the ones who don’t are easy to spot.  They’re often the prettiest ones ironically, who are so used to being swooned over that they sometimes thrive on attention or need an occasional fix from a worthy source.  The interns are in college mode and are flirting with guys on a daily basis.

“What do you want Grimm?”

“I was born with the name Valente you know.”

“So that’s your name, Valente?”

“I changed it.”


“I built a wall around myself I suppose.”


I said nothing, just looked at her.  Then she got uncomfortable.  That’s another good thing because it meant that whatever boundaries she was trying to establish had no foundation, and were easily penetrable.  Penetrable is the operative word.

She said, “You’re a real flirt Grimm, I was warned about you.”

“Warned?  About me?  That’s awesome.”

She laughed.  I wasn’t dealing with Nurse Ratched here that’s for sure.

I stepped closer within her personal space and she didn’t back up.  I said, “What were you warned about me.”

She caught her breath, blushed, glanced at the nurse’s station, then looked up at me, her head tilted a little.  “Well,” she looked down, laughed quietly, looked back up into my eyes, “I was warned that you’re a charmer.”

I was reading the signals right, yeah?  I realized that I think that’s how I get laid so much.  I read the signals, and gradually respond and interact.  It’s mostly about body language.  And girls communicate a lot in body language.  It’s a nonverbal dialogue.  And not to intentionally sound derogatory, but you need to know when to step back and step back in.  Kind of like fishing, you tug too soon, the fish gets away.  This little fish was a tough one though because she had one thing against me, her status.  If she violated that patient/nurse relationship, she could be in a lot of trouble.

“The other nurses think I’m charming?  That’s cool.”

She laughed again.

“So you’re planning to be a nurse.  Is this your field or do you want to work in another environment?”

“I think I want to work in the ER.”

“That’s pretty intense.”

“Yeah it is.”

We talked more a bit about her and her goals until she was more relaxed and less on guard.  By then I was so hard.  The entire conversation was like foreplay for me.  I had my notebook on me so I held it in front of my pants casually.

But then she looked down at the notebook and asked what I’m always writing.  I said, “A journal.”

She said, “A journal?  Guys don’t really write journals.  That means you’re sensitive.  That’s sexy.”

I was surprised that she let that slip out so I got kind of embarrassed at that point, just in a slightly stunned kind of way, and I didn’t say anything.

Then she said, “Oh sh–, I’m sorry.  I shouldn’t have said that.”  She looked at the nurses station then said, “they need me over there.”  And she walked away.  I didn’t try to stop her.  I accomplished my goal apart from the actual sex.  I went back in the shower and jerked off, but I took my time, kind of edged myself a little.  I’m so horny.  The question is whether or not I should leave this girl alone.  I think I can get her, but it might make her regretful enough to get out of nursing entirely.  If she is caught, it could ruin her career.  So….how horny am I?


previous Grimm 83: Withdrawals, Group, & The Black Hole

next Grimm 85: Sex, Paula, Sex, Exercise, Sex, Wall Grimm the Arrogant Asshole, Sex

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 76-93 | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , | 18 Comments

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