Internet popularity is like a fickle ex-boyfriend (or, in my case, a fickle ex-friend who never, ever had a chance to become an ex-boyfriend, and took said fickleness to his early, lonely grave). At first emails were desperate, anxious attempts to establish a sense of certainty regarding the future ('what's going on? help!'). Then, said emails developed an irritated tone ('wtf?! I said HELP, goddammit! don't ignore me!'). When desperation, irritation, and aggravation didn't work things became nasty with overt accusations ('yeah, you know what? it's all YOUR fucking fault!'). After striking out three times the overall feel was one of shameful apology ('sorry, I'm sorry, I was being an asshole!'), and when groveling obviously didn't move my hardened heart'o'stone jealousy was invoked ('hey! guess what! I forgot to mention there was someone else!').

Oh, wait, I just confused 'fickle non-ex-boyfriend' with 'internet popularity' again - oh, A! Okay, okay, I'll stop kicking my (dead) ex-friend in his (dead) ex-face, now. Well, maybe I have time for one more kick...what's that? You'd rather hear about what's going on with Benway Bunnies instead? You sure? Okay, fine! I'd hate to subject anyone to me STOMPING ON SOMEONE ELSE'S FORMER LIFE, REPUTATION, AND EMOTIONS IN A PUBLIC FORUM VISITED BY THOUSANDS OF PEOPLE EVERY MONTH! (I win by still being alive, LOL!) Right, how to start? I suppose I'll tackle the SUPER BIG QUESTIONS most people are asking and the STUPID SMALL QUESTIONS which greatly amuse no one but me. An equal balance in all things!

Q: Are you still writing?

A: No. Right now R and I are working on the important non-writing aspects of work. I have - in the past three or four days - clocked a decent word count, but it isn't material suitable for addition to this site (mostly due to format). If this is subtle attempt at a 'when are you going to update, dammit?' question on your part (one that has obviously failed), please see answer #3.

Q: Will you return to writing in the future?

A: Duh. LOL! Sorry, occasionally I have to succumb to temptation! Dude - YES! Writing is MY CAREER, not a hobby. The difference between me and a lot of other people on the internet is I DO THIS FOR REAL.

Q: When are you going to update BB with new work?

A: What are you going to bribe me with? (Correct answer: amphetamines, frankincense, and myrrh!) The site will be updated with new material ONCE I HAVE NEW MATERIAL. I've come to a point in my career where my focus needs to shift to larger, more profitable projects. While I do love adding to the site on a regular basis, I doubt I'll return to updating once a week.

Q: Where can I find: "sexy co-ed witches sex rituals", "third base love", "japan cyborg sexy", "ass splitting sex", "pro-communist speeches", "requirements for becoming a nun", "nastasia big boobs sex story" (Jesus, ew, WTF?!) and "myspace pics of yul brinner [sic]"?

A: Right HERE, except for the last one. (And when you DO find sexy Yul Brynner pictures for myspace layouts I fully expect you to share them!)

And for those INTERNET DETECTIVES out there that've been abusing this journal's SEARCH FUNCTION and prying Google for information THAT I CAN EASILY GIVE IF THEY JUST CONTACTED ME (Oh no! A's sending out mixed messages again - and talking about herself in third person!): NO, THERE ARE NO RAPE STORIES (yet!). Please keep your rape panties on until they're removed by force! There will be rape, I PROMISE! (The inclusion of rape in my/our work acts as an angry reponse to patriarchal inability to peacefully coincide with mankind's former matriarchal societal structure - LOL! J/K! Rape's just sexy! Take that, feminists!)

(On a darker note: NO, there's absolutely no information about THE DIVACUP to be found here, and there most likely won't ever be. You can't please everyone, but you can at least displease the people who aren't happy further.)

Whoever must've been looking for BUKKAKE probably had an aneurysm when IT, OH MY GOD, ACTUALLY POPPED UP ONCE OR TWICE IN MY JOURNAL ENTIRES (keyword spamming works, people!). The story Educated Guess has been removed from the site, and no amount of trying to find it on Google is going to bring it back. (Secret: if you really, really like a certain story but it's no longer 'public' just EMAIL ME AND I MIGHT JUST UPLOAD IT FOR YOU TO READ!)

And, dude - I don't know if it's the same goddamn person who's been searching for CUCKOLD on BB for years - but FOR FUCK'S SAKE, IF THE KEYWORD HASN'T EVEN BEEN MENTIONED ONCE IN A FUCKING FIVE OR SIX YEAR PERIOD IT MOST LIKELY WON'T BE APPEARING ANY TIME SOON. I CAN recommend that you keep an eye out for necrophilia, pedophilia, bestiality, rape, demon sex and more, though! That is to say...I'll get around to it eventually. Search away! Just make sure to remind yourself that we here at Benway Bunnies don't cater to disgusting sexual practices; there are sites out there for perverts like you, and this isn't one of them! (PERVERT!)

...so anyway, just a quick update this week due to the generally increased effort:productivity ratio that seems to be in effect. I don't have any evidence to support this conjecture, but I'm pretty sure the delay in writing this story (and everything else I need an excuse for) is somehow connected to those SOLAR FLARES that someone told me about (against my will, obviously). If anyone reading this dares to argue with my theory I intend to defame and misrepresent them via the medium of proselytical comic strips in the style of Jack "potentially misleading website address" Chick! Further information on this subject (the inevitable defeat and destruction of my enemies, for those having difficulty keeping up) can be found in my soon-to-be-published tract, LI'L SUZY CONTRA WAGNER.

With the requisite filler now just a bad memory, on to this week's story! Double Shift features the debut of a new character, Leigh, and is inkeeping with Halloween's all-supernatural theme here at BB even if it might not seem to be initially. A insists that she "meant" to write a different story but somehow ended up with this, which is a possible indicator of mental illness and/or demonic possession - and no, don't encourage her - but it seems to have turned out quite well regardless. The same can't be said for the rest of this update (even compared to the first half, shut up!) because I've just been told not to go into too much detail about her and am consquently unable to employ the barely amusing pun that I had planned to repeat over and over again until a suitable length had been reached. Sigh!

Double Shift should be followed by something slightly more involved (and possibly more revealing) with the same character this month, although mentioning the possibility may have just doomed it to never happen. The internal (italicized) dialogue is something that may need to be fine-tuned a little as it evolves, but YOU'LL ALL GET USED TO IT otherwise I'll FIND OUT WHERE YOU LIVE and FORCE YOU to SMUGGLE HEROIN. As one reader recently pointed out, interactivity is a GOOD thing!

I'm starting to feel irritated by the fact that the word "smuggle" sounds like a neologism which could have been created for an also-ran puppet show like Fraggle Rock, so I'll take that as a cue to wind this up and focus more on my charity work - forcing disadvantaged children to watch me act out the entire first series of Fist of the North Star, alone, with musical numbers. Patrick Stewart wasn't available.

To defibrillate your dying will to live, read Double Shift. If you're feeling dangerous and want to risk your own life unnecessarily you can take the longer route to the same outcome by crawling over to the Misc. Sexy Girls section first.

Concentrate, Alana, CONCENTRATE!

Right! Yes! October is HERE! And if you're A) a seasoned reader or B) read last week's entry (cheater!), you'll know that this update kicks off Benway Bunnies's 2005 Halloween Spectacular! For the next month (or the next 5 updates) my work will be exclusively focused on all things spooky, creepy, and supernatural. I'm planning to cover three of the most important 'horror' bases (i.e., EXPLICIT SEX, SCARY STUFF, & EXCESSIVE GORE - not necessarily in that order), and if anything else manages to sneak in we can just consider it a bonus.

At this point characters involved AREN'T set in stone, save two (i.e., Liberty & Justice). Ideas are being tossed around that might involve some Co-Ed Witches or Creepy Family members, and, if we're all lucky, a brand new character. Since I'm notorious for never preparing for anything (except for zombie attacks which I take VERY SERIOUSLY, so please don't break in this house because R will confirm that I keep a machete in the bedroom) I can't give you any more information, other than 'IT'LL BE GREAT! TRUST ME!'.

So for the next few weeks you'll be on a supernatural ride (YOU, YES YOU, SIT BACK DOWN AND KEEP YOUR HANDS IN THE CARRIAGE AT ALL TIMES!) culminating in a SUPER AWESOME TERRIFIC Halloween update. Those with medical conditions, children (do your parents know that I've had a hand in raising you so far?), and pregnant women (remember ladies - abortion is ALWAYS an option!) can thumb through archived footage (i.e., 2004 Halloween Spectacular) to desensitise themselves in preparation for the main event. I highly recommend Extra Credit with Kathleen - it's the lighter side of necrophilia!

I bet you're asking yourself (just play along, and yes, you do have to speak in all caps or shout at the screen) 'ALANA, WHAT AMAZING CHARACTER STARTS THIS YEAR'S HALLOWEEN SPECTACULAR?' - ignoring the fact that I already mentioned Ostia at the start of the update. Sex zombie experiment gone wrong, ahoy!

I was PLANNING to fleece you with a bogus reason for the story's format (i.e., 'it let me solely focus on her narration without the distraction of writing about actions!'), but, honestly, I was a lazy cunt this past week and didn't even bother starting this week's story until it was due. Business as usual!

Dear Dad chronicles another high octane Ostia adventure, complete with blood thirsty penguins, nymphomaniac polar bears, and some forged notes. Life's never dull when you can grow back limbs and you were created for the diverse purposes of KILLING and DESTROYING! Since I've admitted that I kind've sort've phoned this story in and quite a few people have written in this past year requesting more Ostia material, I promise that she's a character I'll try and 'revisit' before the year's out.

To read Ostia's arctic adventure, Dear Dad, click HERE! Or you can start your own mini-expedition by hunting the story down in the Misc. Sexy Girls section within Fiction - watch out for those penguins and aliens trapped under the ice! Dear Dad can be found under the 2005 header, but you'll need to dig a little deeper to exhume other assorted Ostia goodness. If you're a loser science nerd and don't like the sound of that, you can skip the corpse metaphors and just look up her name up in the Character Index. Quit being boring!

I did actually intend to return to work SOONER; however, a project that was supposed to take less than a week (i.e., gutting and remodelling the kitchen) took almost a month. I bet you think eating take-out for the majority of the time, washing your dishes in the bathtub, not having a washing machine or dish washer or oven or stove and only being able to cook with a toaster and microwave would be THE TIME OF YOUR FUCKING LIFE, but you'd be wrong (naturally!).

Just under a week into eating various Chinese dishes off of inappropriate plates (which, incidentally, were impossible to find since the house was a motherfucking labyrinth of displaced food, utensils, and dishes) and 'chipper' meals deep fried to heartattack-inducing perfection (I live in a country whose national dish is Haggis and battered Mars bars) I already began to feel the stirrings of Jack Torrance.

Just writing this shit is giving me heartburn and beginning to make me feel anxious (take 'HEALTHY DIET' and 'REGULAR EXERCISE' from me and I WILL turn into raving lunatic with an axe). The kitchen isn't DONE, but it's usable, and sufficient room has been made for me to begin exercising again (as this new bruise on my forearm with attest - now with more 'accidentally punching self!' action). In conclusion, I could've thought of better ways to spend my 'vacation', but I didn't really have a choice.

So, I'm back, which is kind've sort've rushed, but if you've been around Benway Bunnies long enough you know that I make October (and Christmas) a big deal. Even though I (usually) love summer and all it entails, the second the end of August slips by I'm at the edge of my seat for October. I love Halloween. I mean, I REALLY FUCKING LOVE HALLOWEEN (but I'm not one of those scary women who dresses up like a 'sexy' cat and burns candy corn scented candles and hangs up those awful 'cutesy' scarecrow and corn husk ornamentation around the house).

And so for the past few years I've dedicated the entire month to everything creepy, spooky, and supernatural. October is the time that EVERY update will somehow have an otherworldly element, and, hopefully, cover topics I love to write about but rarely feel confident enough to address (something genuinely scary, something explicitly sexual, et cetera). It's taxing, but rewarding, and seeing how the month has FIVE weekends this year I'll have my work cut out for me.

This particular update and my return to work does have a rushed element because I'm desperate to have interest in Benway Bunnies revoked BEFORE the first October story appears. I'm a realist (or I pretend to be for paragraph-extending purposes), my presence has been non-existent for nearly three months so readers and visitors have begun slacking off (it's okay for ME, not for YOU.)

I now have something like a week to convince everyone that I'm back for GOOD, they should return to sitting on the site and refreshing the index page every three seconds, and everyone should do whatever it takes to PUBLICISE on their sites, journals, diaries, forums, projects, collectives, WHATEVER, that all of THEIR visitors MUST, MUST, MUST check out Benway Bunnies and the 2005 Halloween collection (there'll be sex! There'll be gore! There'll be heart-stopping suspense!).

Now that I've gotten all of my Benway Bunnies vs. Halloween propaganda out of the way (at least until next week!) I can focus on this week's story, the FIRST story to get the site in motion after an inexcusably long hiatus. A story that probably deserves a little more love than I'm giving it, since I'm late in updating, rushing the update itself, and more or less focusing on next month.

Charlie! I really love some of my characters, and then I REALLY love some of my characters. Charlie's just one, huge, sentimental lovefest. I know I mention this almost EVERY TIME I update with her, but...she was the FIRST recurring character story I wrote (which is still popular today with readers, and whenever I mention removing it I'm always met with vocal opposition.)

This week's story isn't entirely different from the last one (Short Fuse), although I think it's an improvement stylistically. I'm still not satisfied with her narrative, but I'm aware that it's something that should fix itself the more I work with her (practice, practice, practice children). When you have so many 'angry' characters (i.e., Kir & Valda, to name a few) it's easy to slip into a default voice, so my focus for the remaining year is to find that spark in the character that individualizes the 'angry' element.

So, anyway, Charlie's in a bad mood and Melanie's attempting to make it better; business as usual. I meant to introduce another character - via dialogue - but never got around to it. It just means I have a foundation for another story, one that will probably revolve around similar circumstances since she's only ever in a GOOD mood when she's sleeping (that's probably a lie, but I'm not entirely sure.)

To read Charlie's new story, That Bad, click HERE. Or you can meander about the site like you've just been punched in the face and find it under the 2005 header of Benway Bunnies within the Fiction section. Enjoy, and don't forget to plug Benway Bunnies any chance you get - it's good karma!

Ahem!

As I was saying, I almost wrote last week's update. Although I don't really want to go into the details of what happened (lucky you!), suffice to say that the situation could be accurately summed up by words like "misunderstanding", "disagreement", "fight" and "debacle", most likely in that order. Of course, given the fact that I'm now writing this week's entry instead - you on the balcony, don't make me come up there! - you can obviously add words like "resolution", "agreement" and "compromise" to that list. I'm not entirely sure where this paragraph is going, but seeing as I've given you a sophisticated lesson in negotiating strategy (or the basis for a beginner-level crossword puzzle) already, who are you to complain? Please, don't write in and try to answer that question. It's a waste of everyone's time, unless you're an underage virgin no more than partially allergic to the traditional barnyard animals. If you are, please contact the New Talent department to submit 8x10s and contact information. Thanks!

So, I'm writing this (or attempting to) a couple of days earlier than usual to give A fair warning in the event of another last minute bailout of the sort that can no longer make James Bond movies even marginally entertaining. (Ha ha ha, the car goes invisible! And hey, there's Madonna! What's that stuck in the space between her front teeth? OH, IT'S AN ENDLESS ABYSS OF BANALITY THAT'S CONSUMED ANOTHER HUNDRED MILLION DOLLARS. HEY ART, GO FUCK YOURSELF.)

...which brings us (or me, with you following a few feet behind carrying torches and pitchforks) to the point where this week's story gets discussed. More specifically, this brings us (see last parentheses) to the point where I say "This week's story, TITLE OF STORY HERE," and then something about it. Or it would, anyway, if this week's story actually had a title at the moment. Inkeeping with the fact that A has recently been forced to learn the hard way that things like medical science and the structure and functions of the human brain won't (necessarily) conform to her every whim, the story's original title was invalidated in one fell swoop by a google search which seemed to say "NO, it doesn't work like that! LOL@U...OWN3D."

(Now, the more reckless among you may be wondering why I didn't abstain from writing the last paragraph in favor of inserting the story's eventual title once it had been determined. Although I applaud your willingness to subject the worlds of the past and future to the horrors of time travel, please bear in mind that some of us are of a more responsible breed. Besides, I have an outstanding wager with other members of the infamous Hell Street Gentleman's Club that I can refrain from subverting the process of history for a period of at least three days. You'll have to attend that bar mitzvah without me, I'm afraid. That and it's filler, of course.)

As far as the story itself goes, I don't want to say too much. This is partially due to laziness and feeling inarticulate (alright, mostly) and partially due to the fact that I think analyzing something before people (you) get a chance to read it might influence their (your) reaction to it...in a potentially sinister fashion! Okay, it might not be quite that exciting, but do you really need to fill up your limited cognitive space with another thousand words of me saying what A and I like or think could be improved about this story or any other? What's that? You do, or you'll die? Oops. Okay, here's a little: we both liked how this one came out.

...for those of you still or holding on to respiratory functions with their last few ounces of strength, this week's story, AS YET UNTITLED, features Kir doing what she does best: drinking and being angry. Although the reasons for her frequently revisiting such territory are only hinted at here, you'll have to take our collective word for it (which you can tattoo on your forehead or chisel into some stone tablets if you like) that we've spent LITERALLY YEARS AND YEARS making that and a lot of other stuff up. The fact that this site is exclusively full of material only meant to be practice is a subject I should probably get around to addressing in more detail eventually, but for now you'll have to be satisfied (or otherwise) with the knowledge that the content presented here represents a tiny fraction of the work that we'll one day hopefully be motivated enough to complete. The updates on the site are intended to be much more like excerpts than stories, so all the major events and ideas that are implied in the writing available here will be covered in a more, uhm, extended format, let's say. I'd feel pompous(er) saying anything else before we actually get off our asses and do something.

And hey, if we don't, maybe we can start a gambling and prostitution ring instead! We've already got the logistics covered, including a PayPal account! Applications for unpaid internships to the usual address, please!

To read Kir's latest foray into the world of bitterness and regret, go here. To revisit past traumas and realize nothing about your life has ever been worthwhile, go through the Band section before jumping off the Fiction bridge.

* I'm aware that the monoalphabetic nomenclature might make it seem like we've given ourselves codenames of a sort that would only be appropriate for those involved in espionage. To those people who find themselves feeling amused or derisive should bear in mind that sometimes a marriage (creative or otherwise) needs this kind of thing to keep it interesting. That kind of thing as well as a knife and some duct tape. Just not on Sunday!

'I have this scrape,' I've been announcing for the past several days, sniffling and pointing at the yellow-red abrasions on my arm. You'd think that within four days I would've flogged saying so to death, but you'd be wrong. After every tearful proclamation comes a wave of concerned sympathy from R, culminating him kissing the spot and me shouting 'EW, WHAT THE FUCK, DON'T KISS IT, YOU'LL GET GERMS ALL OVER IT AND I'LL DIE OF LOCKJAW' (maybe he could use it as an excuse for not paying his taxes, hey, it worked for Thoreau!).

Ill-fitting clothing was the cause of my close brush with death. I absolutely refuse to retire a pair of pants that are so big they keep falling off, and they've now become a health hazard. The flaps of material around my ankles got caught beneath a pair of oversized flip-flops and I dangerously pitched over the threshold of the door towards a flight of steps. The only thing that saved me was I bracing myself against the car and an abrasive wall.

Anything could've happened if I tumbled down those three, unforgiving concrete steps. A concussion, a broken spine, complete and total paraplegia. I was lucky that day, and live to tell the tale (and the tale begins with 'I have this scrape...'). R said 'those pants need to go'. I protested, 'BUT THESE HAVE SENTIMENTAL VALUE, MY RECENTLY DECEASED MOTHER GAVE THEM TO ME' (the first part is bogus, the second part is true.) It may take another death-defying stunt to convince me.

God's clear favoritism aside, I'm currently taking it easy. After writing several months worth of updates in a short space of time I was on the verge of feeling burned out. Fall's always represented a period of getting back to work for me, so I decided to go on a mini-vacation until September. I'm still around and still updating the site once a week, but I'm not pressuring myself to get anything significant done when there are still days I can continue working on getting skin cancer topless.

Having said that, THIS is the best time to get in contact with me. Usually I'm too fucking busy working to reply to email, so, as some of you already know, R's had the dubious honour of acting as a filter for me. Seeing how I'm taking things easy for the rest of the month your chances of getting a proper response go up exponentially. Besides, I like putting names/personalities to email addresses, it gives me a sense of the perverted masses that read my writing.

So, if you've ever been tempted to send me a note this is the time to take the plunge. Contrary to very popular presumptions I DO like receiving letters, provided you've read through my FAQ and DON'T DO WHAT I TOLD YOU NOT TO DO. I ALWAYS look forward hearing from readers and visitors, especially when characters are involved.

Nothing makes me happier when I receive an email from a person going on about their favourite character or one of the stories I've written. I even welcome suggestive letters from seasoned readers - as long as it's in a format like 'I really like character X, will you be writing with X in the near future, if not, could you try?', and NOT 'I think it'd be good if you had X do X, or X do X with/to X'. (Please let me reiterate that I won't acknowledge or act on any suggestions of the second sort, ever, so please don't send me any.)

Speaking of narrowly missing death...

This week's story is narrated by Vienna, the non-ghost ghost girl who also had an unexpected encounter that left her sort've dead for a while (see how I flawlessly worked that in?). I'm sure having your entire family die and then spending ten years trapped in the house you grew up unable to communicate with anyone or anything is bad, but...I HAVE THIS SCRAPE.

During my ten character challenge a reader wrote in requesting to see Vienna again. I had all but forgotten about her (I'll stress yet again how hard it is keeping up with 60+ characters), so I was impressed by the suggestion and quickly added her to the supernatural list that also features Liberty, Mert, Ostia, & Valda. Even more recently she managed to snag second place in the public 'which supernatural character would you like to see next?' poll, which was another surprise.

I remember writing this, and I remember having a difficult time with it. It was written in the middle of the night after I downed five cups of instant coffee. It was one of the last stories written during the prolific period that spanned May/June and it was like pulling teeth to write (wasn't in the mood for it, uncomfortable with the character, and really fucking tired of writing in general.)

R mentioned that there's an archaic feeling to it, which was intentional - ha! At this stage Vienna's still a relatively new character and I haven't settled on her personality; I have an idea where it's going, but it'll take another several runs with her before I make up my mind.

I've been meaning to write this story for months so I can get ready to introduce a third character in the Daniel/Vienna saga. Old Time's Sake kind've sort've deals with grief (much like Abberlaine's Until Sleep), but there wasn't a conscious effort to address it in relation to my own situation. The connection is incidental, but probably strengthened by losing my mother recently.

I'm not entirely sure what's going to happen to Vienna. Currently I have larger, more urgent projects that require my attention, so characters who have little to no connection with them will be on the back burner for a while. As with most ideas I prefer to give them a chance to mature before I really begin working with them; characters within the Benway Bunnies and Band groups have been around for years, and have an advantage when it comes to character and plot development. Eventually Vienna will be in the same position, but it won't be happening anytime soon. Then again, she's dead, so it's not like she's going anywhere anyway.

To read Vienna's new story, Old Time's Sake, click here. Or you can develop your interest in necromancy (don't like, you're interested!) by summoning the Misc. Sexy Girls link (pst, it's within the Fiction section). Sacrifice a virgin or goat (or a virgin goat!) and you'll find Old Time's Sake under the 2005 header. Vienna's other two stories (Vienna & Breakfast) are further down the list.

...so, things like 'mother's unexpected death due to fractured ankle' and 'blood clots appearing 11 days after period' come as a shock sometimes; I suppose they might prove that I'm not infallible - but don't tell anyone else, I have a reputation to uphold. Either that or those same things just prove (once again) that my mother was a crackwhore whose only calling was to completely fuck with my outlook on life. Everything I did, no matter how insignificant, was because R knocked me up.

I decided to clean the chaos formerly known as a teenager's bedroom? Pregnant! ('You're subconsciously nesting to make room for a baby'). I felt remotely sick after eating any sort of dairy because I used to be lactose intolerant? Pregnant! ('It's morning sickness'). Blood stains two weeks after my period? Pregnant! ('the embryo has attached itself to the uterus!')

Most parents come from beyond the grave to divulge some super huge secret that usually involves MONEY or TREASURE or at least A MAP TO EITHER OF THE ABOVE. Those LESS lucky they get told things like 'WE ALWAYS LOVED YOU EVEN IF WE BEAT YOU DAILY' and 'WE WERE HARD ON YOU BECAUSE WE KNEW YOUR SIBLING WOULDN'T AMOUNT TO ANYTHING'. I'm at the very bottom of the ladder for this particular spiritual experience; my mother's voice crosses time and space so she can continue pushing her pregnancy propaganda on me.

Seeing how I've begun dispensing advice on writing and living in every entry now (said tongue-in-cheek, TONGUE-IN-CHEEK DAMMIT!) I might as well offer this little gem (GIRLS - pay attention, you'll thank me for this later.):

If you get a kit with TWO pregnancy tests, DO NOT THROW OUT THE INSTRUCTIONS, no matter HOW AMAZING YOUR MEMORY IS, and NO MATTER HOW OBVIOUS THE RESULTS SHOULD BE. Trust me - two years later you'll be fishing for the extra test (that's been expired for a month) in the back of your underwear drawer and realise YOU HAVE NO FUCKING CLUE WHAT TWO PINK DOTS MEAN.

You'll try and be logical. You'll say 'well, the cap is pink, and the indicator that says you've taken the test correctly is pink, so clearly the other pink dot means NO YOU AREN'T, NOW STOP BEING A WHORE because for it to be positive the result should really stand out instead of blending in'. You'll try and convince your significant other you're right, then you'll go to bed and out of no where he'll say something like 'BUT PINK IS ASSOCIATED WITH BEING PREGNANT.'

So the next morning you'll take ANOTHER test - one that isn't expired and uses a plus and minus result system - and after it shows up negative you'll complain about the waste of money, how you got urine all over your hands, feet, bathroom floor and opposite wall, and how even thinking you could be knocked up was the stupidest thing in the entire world and how the experience cut into valuable Dr. Mario time.

This is the point where I try to bridge the gap between 'personal life' and 'professional life' with a tenuous link so Benway Bunnies can continue being listed as a 'journal, diary, blog' in various directories for increased traffic (joke's on THEM!). I fail to see a connection between PREGNANCY CRISIS and MAGDALENA so I'll confuse you with MORE WORDS IN CAPS and then jump into the topic of this week's story as if a link existed that you could only have missed if you were stupid.

Magdalena (hear the chorus of 'awww!' from regular readers and visitors)! If you're somewhat new to Benway Bunnies fiction then all you need to do is think of the cutest, most endearing thing in the entire world...and then multiply it by a million. That's Magdalena. She's MORE adorable than a cardboard box filled with fluffy baby animals with Precious Places eyes, and possibly a psychopath on top of it.

Not entirely satisfied with my previous story attempt (Hopelessly Devoted), I decided to take another stab with her. Bad Traffic, this week's story, was a conscious effort to focus on Magdalena's voice by subtracting something I find easy - dialogue, or most of it, which has been a recurring trend in a lot of stories I've recently written. Whatever reservations I had about working without my conversational safety net disappeared after a thousand words or so.

In Bad Traffic we find Magdalena, once again, obsessing over Friday (yes - new and uncharted territory!). While there IS more to Magdalena than that, I like to seize on the concept since it lends itself to extreme emotions, which in turn lend themselves to more effective first person narrative practice. Until now work with Magdalena could be considered 'light, occasionally X-rated comedy', so with this one I tried to unearth some emotional depth and show the more heartbreaking side of silent, obsessive love.

I know I'm slightly biased since I have an emotional attachment to my characters, but I couldn't help but experience just a twinge of sympathy for her while rereading the story. R said the same thing - and THAT'S coming from someone who's known the character for years, and knows exactly where she's headed.

Bad Traffic is, so far, one of my absolute favourite stories. I wouldn't say it was PERFECT, but it does exactly what I wanted it to - it gives a clearer, more defined personality with a visceral sense of the agony and ecstasy of unrequited love. I'm even willing to wager that YOU DON'T HAVE A FUCKING SOUL if you don't find yourself wanting to comfort poor Magdalena at some point during it - although I suppose I'll also accept 'I want to bang her!', since that isn't too far off Rocky's method of trying to cheer her up.

To read this week's new story, Bad Traffic, simply click here. Or you could go the involved route and worship at the temple of desperation (the Co-Ed Witches area within the Fiction section) where Magdalena acts as high priestess. Bad Traffic is located under the 2005 header. To read about more of her (mis)adventures, be sure to look her up in the Character Index.

I can also proudly announce that I got NO WORK DONE THIS WEEK! Hooray! And, better yet, I spent the weekend eating PIZZA and CHOCOLATE CAKE for breakfast! Double hooray! I could almost deal with needing an entire fucking week to recover from 'FRANK'S MAGIC ACID PARTY' (don't ask, it made sense to R) if it weren't for the fact that it feels like I ate a bag of motherfucking glass. Christ, so much for 'structured'. Where was I supposed to be going with this again? Oh, right...

When I was in dire need of inspiration a few months ago I gave members of the notifylist an opportunity to suggest characters they'd like to see more of. I promised that I'd prioritise the first ten responses I received provided they weren't repeats (some characters just stand out more than others) and that the choices seemed at least a LITTLE thought out (no better way to impress me than show some inherent knowledge of virtually unknown characters!).

The characters the readers picked pleasantly surprised me. I knew that Charlie, Iona, and Valda would be popular choices (and they were), but I wasn't expecting anyone to mention less known characters like Ottavia, Mert, or Nastasia. I mean, I DID suggest that I'd be insanely happy if readers requested girls no one's really heard/read of, but they weren't obligated to follow through on the less than subliminal message.

Someone said 'what about a ballerina?'. And, in response, I blinked and said 'dude, I HAVE one of those!' (with 60+ characters you inevitably forget about one or two). So Nastasia, winner of the coveted Miss Confrontational title for two millennia running (the 20th and 21st!), was apprehensively added to the growing list (a deal's a deal, right?).

Nastasia's one of those characters that gets lost along the way. I wrote her first story, Ballet, years ago. Afterwards she made a brief appearance in the story Rebecca, and then managed to secure another story (One Drink) a year or two later. While she's definitely one of my OLDER characters, she isn't as 'complete' as some of the others and has a tendency to get eclipsed by Aspasia.

I'd like to gently (BUT FIRMLY) point out that despite their apparent similarities, they both have two totally different personalities. No, I'm not going to sit here and hold you hand while I list every difference that should be obvious. Yes, you CAN read their stories and come to the conclusion YOURSELF. I think my reluctance to work with her could be halved if I was absolutely sure that people COULD successfully see them as two separate characters, so START SEEING!

Sex is Sex is Nastasia's third story - and the winner of the most misleading title in the history of fiction (hooray!)! It was written in one agonising morning ('OH GOD, READERS ARE JUST GOING TO THINK THIS IS ASPASIA WITH A RUSSIAN ACCENT!') where my non-existent love for writing sunk to a new low. I didn't get into writing it as much as I'd have liked, but I don't feel particularly bad about it.

Sex is Sex was written when I worked for seven consecutive days, so, realistically, I was expecting one or two 'average' stories. I suppose I COULD beat myself up for not writing a billion amazing stories in a row, but it's hard to complain when A) you're really fucking exhausted and want to throw up when even thinking about Word and B) you've written some of your best material BEFORE and AFTER one so-so story. Of course there's always a chance that I'm just being hard on myself, but that excuse doesn't really appeal to my pessimistic nature / evil genius status.

To read Miss Confrontation's newest story, Sex is Sex, click here. If you'd rather draw out being KOed by ballet's most aggressive prima donna instead, simply pirouette towards the Misc. Sexy Girls link in Fiction. You'll find Nastasia's latest adventure under the 2005 header. Be careful, she's got a nasty temper and an inferiority complex that manifests in biting people's ears off ('LOL, SHE'S JUST LIKE ASPASIA, LOL!').

When I first began working on these characters their respective ages were SHOCKING and ENVELOPE PUSHING (unintentionally, anyway). Yes, it was THAT LONG AGO. Years later, thanks to rampant liberalism that would've horrified Rome, the average age that kids become sexually active is seven. All right, so maybe I'm exaggerating a little (Alan Colmes isn't responsible for the downfall of society's standards even if he DOES look a bit like Skeletor and the actual age for engaging in one-night anal sex stands is eleven, ten if you're one of the popular kids at school.)

I might've lost the AGE edge, but I've still got necrophilia, incest, and bestiality cards to hold onto (I give the world another three years before it makes me seem prudish and old-fashioned) so I'm not cashing my chips in just yet. Each family seems to have a favourite vice to pass the time, something that's unavoidable since leading scientists have used various studies to prove that EVERYTHING is controlled by GENETICS. EVERYTHING.

So, clearly, when you take ONE set of chromosomes that has 'NECROPHILE' in it and mix it with another set that has it as well, you produce a new member of the family to have sex with who's also into necrophilia. This is all very scientific (I've done my own studies - no, really!) so I'm not going to bore you with that whole thing about Mendel and his sweet peas/my plans on creating a superior sexy race to further my quest for self-gratification.

Ottavia hails from the dwindling Italian branch of the Creepy Family. The French have almost completely died out (and will, if Morrigan insists on exclusively using cadavers as sex partners), and Ottavia's family a rides a close second. The only branch not under the threat of extinction is the Spanish, and they can thank their incestual nymphomaniac tendencies for that. The Italians and French have always played the studious and more serious counterparts of the free-for-all Spanish line, but still manage to meet the necessary criteria to be considered Creepy Family material.

I can't remember what I did on the night of my fifteenth birthday, but I'm pretty sure that I DIDN'T leave my own party to lose my virginity with two handsome strangers intent on showing me the best night of my life (but if I had a Delorean and a Flux Capacitor...). Thanks to one night of underage excess, Ottavia became a noun, verb, and adjective ('Dude, I totally pulled an Ottavia last night!'). Unable to cope with such infamy she swore celibacy (much to the chagrin of the demons that scored with her who're still looking for a repeat performance), took up drinking and self-mutilation, then embarked on a crusade of violence and perpetual scowling.

Exchange Student is another instalment in the Ottavia saga. There's a little violence, a little bad mood, and a little rehashing of the night she got OTTAVIA-ED (okay, I need to work on that as a neologism) for readers who aren't familiar with the character. She first appeared, years ago, in the story Ottavia (clever title, I know). Last year she resurfaced in Medium Rare, and this year she makes her annual visit in Exchange Student (which is the best of the bunch, but I'm sort've biased).

I'm super insane pleased with how it worked out. I felt the narration was constant and paced well, and managed to work in enough of what I wanted. I'm EXCEPTIONALLY happy with the end and the somewhat ambiguous introduction of a character that'll eventually play an important role. Exchange Student is one of my absolute favourites out of the recent work I've done, so I'm really excited to see/read people's reaction towards it.

To read Ottavia's new story, Exchange Student, click here. Or you could go the longer (yet sexually fulfilling) route by locating the Creepy Family section within Fiction. Exchange Student has been neatly filed under the 2005 header, not exactly the Dewey decimal system, but ordered nonetheless. If you're interested in my Creepy Family (mis)adventures make sure to peruse the other stories listed; if you're dead set on getting more familiar with Ottavia simply look up her information on the Character Index.

My taste matured quickly once I became a full-time student. Red Sonja and Barbarella had a special place in my heart, but I needed to be intellectually challenged. So, as a kindergartener, I was introduced to AGNES OF GOD. And from THAT point I abandoned any hope or interest in becoming a forest ranger when I grew up, because, oh my God, BEING A NUN IS SO MUCH COOLER AND FUN(NER). The entire 'losing and refinding religion' theme was lost on me, the movie was all about ICE SKATING IN WINTER IN A BEAUTIFUL CONVENT.

'I WANT TO BE A NUN,' I announced after years of fantasising. My mother, with a knowing snort, promptly dismissed the idea. 'Every girl wants to be a nun at some point,' she explained, which wasn't exactly true since half of my friends wanted to be ballerinas and the other half wanted to be veterinarians. But I was DEAD SET on becoming a nun, even though we weren't really religious and we didn't attend church regularly. So I was forced to bide my time until I was old enough to take my holy vows and become a bride of Christ.

...then I discovered masturbation, began having sex, dabbled in witchcraft, found some of my female classmates 'cute', and decided I was better off being something else. Ironic, I guess, since I fulfilled all of the crucial requirements to be a medieval nun (I'm what happens when you're born a few hundred years too late and you have A VERY BAD MOTHER). I later compromised on career choices, so 'government assassin' was replaced with 'forensic pathologist'. The entire 'nun' fantasy is still nice, but so is having an orgasm - and IT isn't going to wake your ass up at an ungodly hour to pray, either.

I eventually ended up with this stint (i.e., writing professionally) allowing me to have characters who are NUNS, CONTRACT KILLERS, and FORENSIC PATHOLOGISTS. It's a decent trade-off, since I'm not really into praying, too lazy to even leave the house most days, and my interest level in other people is nil (have I ever mentioned that my 'emotional intelligence' is lower than that of most retarded people?).

All of this nun talk DOES have a purpose other than to amuse you ('DID YOU HEAR THAT THE CRACKWHORE BENWAY BUNNIES CHICK WANTED TO BE A NUN? WTF? LOL!')! It's all a long-winded introduction to a character that 90% of you are probably NOT familiar with - Prudence! You thought Magdalena was cute? Just wait until you get a load of Prudence! Besides, Magdalena has an evil streak that hasn't surfaced yet, but more on that later.

Her creation was to balance out the stereotypical personalities found in any group or clique in a fictional setting. The Kidnap Coalition already had the smart one (Mercy), the bitchy one (Solange), and the other member who was formally runner-up to the Miss USA title who writes down everything she eats in a little journal (Ursula (okay, fine, so she isn't totally worked out yet)). Prudence provided the necessary 'cute, nice, happy, and na�ve' to lessen the edge of everyone else's aggressive personalities.

She very briefly appeared in the old story Panty Stakeout, which ostensibly introduced the Kidnap Coalition to the world, but hasn't been seen since. There are a few reasons for her absence (and the overall absence of any character involved in the Coalition) in my work. Prudence is a bit of a slippery fish when it comes to portraying her personality. I want to emphasise 'SHE'S REALLY NA�VE', but if you underline that sentiment one too many times she comes across as being dense and stupid (which she isn't). It's a very delicate rope you've got walk when working with a character like her, and it becomes increasingly harder when you aren't entirely confident that you've got the 'sound' down right.

Mercy, Prudence, Solange, and Ursula currently exist in burnout territory thanks to an ill-advised brush with impromptu novel writing a few years back. I spent the better part of a year working on a book that I didn't bother planning and it was only after 75% was done I realised IT WAS NEVER GOING TO WORK. I'm NOW simultaneously HORRIFIED and AMUSED that I managed to write in the excess of 100,000 words before coming to that realisation. For years I was so embarrassed by the misfire that I refused to mention it or work with the characters that were involved.

Older and wiser now, I can only cringe at the shit I did when I was younger. Authors and writers always trip over one another with their feelings of self-importance when giving out advice to aspiring whatevers, but they never actually say anything useful. They never say NOT EVERYONE WAS BORN TO BE A WRITER or MAYBE THE REASON WHY IT'S BEEN REJECTED THREE HUNDRED TIMES IS BECAUSE IT'S SHIT or WHATEVER YOU DO DON'T FALL INTO THE EAGERNESS TRAP or DON'T WRITE A MOTHERFUCKING NOVEL WITHOUT HAVING EVERYTHING PLANNED IN ADVANCE, although after reading extensively all my life I suspect that most of writers aren't actually aware of the above.

Prudence is the first Kidnap Coalition member to come in out of the cold. After several angry/grumpy stories I was advised to do 'something different' and Mr. Whiskers was the result. R read it, laughed in the appropriate places, and then told me it had worked. Three cheers for Prudence, Mr. Whiskers, and me.

To be truthful, I'm sort've so-so with it. I felt her narrative wasn't STRONG enough, that she comes across a little too ditzy and out of touch for her own good (R might argue differently). Because it was such a narrative-driven story, I had an agonising time trying to END it, that all important 'and in conclusion...' paragraph refused to materialise. Regardless, it came out a little better than I expected - especially since this is my first attempt at writing something with her when I actually know what I'm trying to do and despite the fact that I had originally planned to work with someone else.

I'm excited with the prospect that Prudence might now be in rotation, and hopefully this is a not-too-subtle indication that the Kidnap Coalition ice age is officially over. I've wanted to work with Ursula for a while now, but I've been going back and forth on that desire. Prudence and Mercy have always been the strongest characters of the group, so there's a better chance you might see them in the near future. Mercy, at least, does have her own (old) story, and has had the chance to narrate a few others. Urs and Solange can't say the same, however, but I do plan on changing that...eventually.

To read Prudence's first story, Mr. Whiskers, click here! Or, of course, you can go the arduous route of chastity and guilt and locate the story in the Kidnap Coalition section of Fiction. You'll find Mr. Whiskers located under the 2005 header. I dare you to read it and NOT go 'awww!' once. SHE'S SO DAMN CUTE, how could Rocky have missed her? (She's a giant incubus checklist - nice, happy, virgin, and nun-to-be!)

I thought the bottom of the barrel was sleep paralysis (something I experienced twice as a teenager, both scaring the lucid dreaming SHIT out of me), but I was wrong. Nothing's topped waking up screaming (and not knowing if you're the one screaming so, naturally, you scream even LOUDER and HARDER to determine if it is) on the floor in a pitch black room in a strange, deserted house with your husbands grip so desperately tight on your arm that it immediately left bruises.

To this day I still have NO IDEA what I was dreaming about (a common symptom of night terrors), how I fell off a bed that was nearly three feet off the ground, or why I couldn't stop screaming - even though there came a point where I knew I was sprawled on the fucking floor with my husband clawing at me as if I was dangling off a cliff to my death. I tried capturing the confusing horror of the event in Abberlaine's story Until Sleep (the first story I wrote after my mother's untimely death), but I later learned you just can't put that sort of shit in words. Seriously.

Needless to say, we packed up our shit and slept uneasily at my mother's house that night and I was lectured to NEVER AGAIN EAT CHEESE BEFORE BED, EVER (apparently that doesn't help.) I grudgingly agreed even though I REALLY FUCKING LOVE MUENSTER (dude, you can't get it over here in the UK!) because I wasn't the one who got white hairs thanks to the ordeal (I got every shitty ass gene from my mother EXCEPT the one that makes you go prematurely grey.)

Anyway, this isn't just another lame attempt to make me look a super genius (night terrors + zero emotional intelligence + violent temper + perfect jaws = SUPER GENIUS, OBVIOUSLY!) it's actually GOING somewhere. Or was SUPPOSED to go somewhere until I began rambling about sleeping habits that no one really cares about. Right now my conversational skills are about as sharp as those retarded plastic 'safety' scissors, so please bear with me.

STRESS.

There, that was succinct! STRESS and EMOTIONAL DISTRESS bring on night terrors, and since we know I'm a robot incapable of real emotions we can blame my most current episode on the former. Last night's episode is the byproduct of nearly 14,000 words written in a week, which doesn't necessarily seem a lot unless you know that some novels are only 60,000. In just seven days I've written almost a quarter of that, which is something I haven't done in fucking YEARS.

The good news is I've got enough material to cover my ass for the next month (and then some), the bad news is my ability to appear coherent is running on empty. R offered to do the update this week but I waved him off thinking I could handle the responsibility. And I was clearly being delusional about it, since I've already written something like seven hundred words and I haven't even managed to get to the story.

SO I AM, getting to the story that is.

There are some characters that are important, and then there are some characters that are REALLY FUCKING IMPORTANT - like Charlie Benway. Without Charlie there would be no 'Benway Bunnies' (quite literally!); the foundation which my writing was based on. Through out years things about characters inevitably change and evolve but three things have already remained constant with Charlie: she despises the size of her tits, her love of guns borders on fetishism, and she has a dangerously short fuse.

She's so fucking popular that when I mentioned I was considering removing her first story (which, incidentally, is one of the first ones I wrote) I was met with a wave of homicidal threats thinly veiled as indignation. Rather than provoking the vengeful wrath of Charlie fanatics I let the story stay even though I cringe every time I'm reminded of it. One of these days it'll be sacrificed to the almighty EARLY WORKS folder, but only once my safety is assured by bodyguards.

Short Fuse was the fourth story written on my ill-advised writing rampage and, I think, it begins to show exhaustion on my part (I came back with full force the next story, but only after I took a day off from writing). The switch between pure narration and dialogue isn't as seamless as I would've liked, up until that point I was really pleased with how the story was flowing. Once Melanie appears things start to get choppy, and once I realised that I began panicking (hence the really abrupt end). I'm disappointed with the story because I knew it could be A LOT better, but I realise that my expectations were a little off since I had been working for DAYS without a break. It'll be better next time around, so please hold onto your letter bombs and rethink about sending Mossad my way.

To read Charlie's newest story, Short Fuse, click here. Or, of course, you can go the long route to big boobs and guns (but why would you want to?) by hitting up the Benway Bunnies section of Fiction. Short Fuse is listed under the 2005 header just above her sister's latest story, On the House. Charlie's graced and narrated many a story so if you're all about Benway love then make sure to look her up in the Character Index.

I'm now going to pass out, someone please remind R to wake me up for next week's update if you don't see it by Saturday evening. Thanks.

Because of that (well, not the magic part), I have to force myself to get something written now so that the story can go up; it marks the return of Magdalena, who several people on the notifylist have demanded to see again. A had tried to write something with her recently but found it difficult, meaning that what she started was shelved and then replaced by Third Base, which turned out better anyway.

Hopelessly Devoted came together quite quickly (i.e., in a couple of hours) and somewhat spontaneously. It also finishes in a similar way, although that's a consequence of the fact that it was pushing a couple of thousand words by the time it actually got going. A decided to wrap it up and post it before there were any further delays in this week's update, although obviously she didn't account for my laziness...ha!

So, after the first section (which both of us feel is obviously the best part) the story ends before anything else gets a chance to happen - although in this case you can probably guess what "anything else" would be. It's also only the first part of what should end up being several updates with the same character over the next little while, so all of you SICK FREAKS who think DEMONS, ASS SEX and NICE GIRLS go together every day (and not just Sunday!) should have something to look forward to. I'm looking forward to being able to write something that takes less time and is more engaging next time I agree to do an update, but there's no guarantee that'll happen.

ATTENTION: The Kay's Bargain's Blogette Award voting also ends on the 25th of this month, so there's only a day or two left to vote for Benway Bunnies! If you haven't done so already (and forced everyone you know to do the same), please expend the energy required to move as many eyes as you have over to the side and follow the link! Both of us are very thankful (and pleased!) at the number of people who've actually bothered to vote for the site so far, so don't let something like the contest almost being over and the result already being decided stop you from doing it anyway.

To read the new story or put yourself in danger until the person you love relents and lets you have your way, go here! To suffer in silence and eventually end up attempting suicide, go to the Fiction area and then the Co-Ed Witches section. If you'd like to read the other stories narrated by Magdalena (you would, and if you say otherwise you'll be framed for murder!) you can find them via her entry in the character index.

Actually, slacking can be blamed on my notoriously bad work ethic (what, you mean I have to actually DO something to become rich and famous?) and my notoriously bad 'Alana doesn't drink enough water' habit. Half the week I was obsessed with stacking pills, the other half was spent moaning FOR pills. Once again your most humble of writers and internet personality extraodinaire was in a dire state.

Thankfully R had a cure for diet brain - fried mozzarella sticks, potato skins with bacon, and chicken wings with three types of dipping sauce courtesy of TGI Friday's. My level of resistance was nil; I simply dove in. This experience gave me some sage wisdom; sometimes you've got to eat BAD to feel GOOD.

With my concentration having been boosted a million percent, I FINALLY managed to finish an Aspasia story that's been sitting around since early March. And when I say 'finally' I mean, FINALLY because this entire week can proudly boast of SEVERAL aborted attempts to get this fucking story done. Not only did I manage to tack on another thousand words, but I even bit the bullet and WENT BACK TO REWRITE EARLIER SECTIONS.

Arrogance aside (YOU MEAN THAT SOMEONE ON THE INTERNET MIGHT HAVE AN INFLATED EGO?!), I must be getting 'better' because warning signs went off when I reread the first thousand words I had written months ago. But because I REALLY HATE WORK I pretended like nothing was wrong and tossed the finished product on my editor (AKA, R)'s lap.

So there I was, happily licking diet safe mousse from the back of a spoon while watching the news with magazines spread across my lap when he entered the room. And he didn't just ENTER, he entered WITH A LOOK, and then closed the door BEHIND HIMSELF. I summed up the glaringly obvious response with just a 'oh no' (not even a gut wrenching 'OH NO!' just a semi-whispered 'oh shit he's smarter than I thought!' one).

'THE SECOND HALF IS WRITTEN ENTIRELY DIFFERENTLY THAN THE FIRST HALF,' I confessed with a tearless sob, knowing that my ass would be BACK in my fucking computer chair for rewriting purposes (I'll fucking DO it but it doesn't mean that I have to LIKE doing it!). He said something about it at least being indicative that I've progressed quite far in a short time, but I didn't let something like ACHIEVEMENT get in the way of the fact that I WOULD HAVE TO REOPEN WORD AND DO MORE FUCKING WORK.

Not to go ON (and ON and ON) about how great I am, but I'm starting to get a FEEL for this 'rewriting' thing. It's not that I was TERRIFIED of the concept, it was just that I wanted to dump a story the second after writing it like an unwanted pregnancy. In fact, it's only been within this past year that I've been able to reconcile my inability TO READ MY OWN FUCKING WORK. Just because I had WRITTEN it didn't mean I had to READ IT once it was done, dammit.

The blue blood Aries in me wants things MY WAY ALL OF THE GODDAMN TIME, but unfortunately writing isn't (or isn't always) one of those careers that's willing to bend over backwards to facilitate my stubborn streak. I've spent years dragging my feet and struggling against the absolute to the detriment of my work, and it's only been within the past six months (or so) that I've reconciled some NASTY habits into some occasionally OBSTINATE habits.

While I'm happy that I was able to go back and finish a story that had been sitting around incomplete for the past several months I'm even HAPPIER that I've grudgingly resigned myself to the knowledge that IT'S ALMOST NEVER PERFECT THE FIRST TIME AROUND. The difference between shit being GOOD and shit being REALLY FUCKING GOOD is the willingness to go back and MAKE it really fucking good.

Don't get me wrong here, I'm not saying that I've now MASTERED the redrafting technique, I've simply identified it as a (previous) obstacle, one that I have to tackle HEAD ON if I even want to entertain the notion of improving. Even better, I don't necessarily mind going back to rewrite whole sections because I know it's for A REALLY DAMN GOOD REASON.

Last week's story, Third Base, is a good example. I felt that it was rough around the edges until I took a second shot at it, and that extra effort proved to really MAKE the story. While I did alter some content of this week's story (Student Handbook), I don't feel that it had as big of an impact as it did with Third Base. There's a definite improvement, but it didn't feel as radical.

In fact, the ONLY reason why there's a new Aspasia story is because I REALLY FUCKING HATE leaving work undone. Thanks to dehydration, Dr. Mario, dieting, and other assorted 'D' activities, I thought I'd scam my way through this week by just hammering out 1,000 words to finish an incomplete story (which turned out to be easier thought than done). So enjoy Miss Spastica, because she's going on a mini-vacation while I begin working on a long list of characters who haven't seen the light of day in YEARS.

To read Aspasia's new story, Student Handbook, simply click here. Or, of course, you can go the long route by clicking the Misc. Sexy Girls link in the Fiction section. Student Handbook has been filed under the 2005 heading. If you're interested in reading other obnoxious adventures of Aspasia and her cereal-eating dog, Planck, be sure to hit up the Character Index.

PS: And just because I've been lazy this goddamn week doesn't mean you can. If you haven't already voted for Benway Bunnies in the 2005 Blogette awards I hope it's because pirhanas gnawed off all of your limbs, or you've recently been attacked by some Komodo Dragons. Voting ends June 25th so I POLITELY SUGGEST that you click here, select BENWAY BUNNIES, and cast your vote...or else!

While I don't mind bearing all (the neighbours can attest to that), I learned last year it may lead to dire consequences - i.e., the universe giving you a karmic caning. So all I'm going to say is that my unexpected absence had to do with my mother's recent death and the inevitable problems that've arisen from it. What, you think a well-adjusted person would be inspired to write about sex-starved eight-year-olds (Abigail) and medical students with an unhealthy interest in necrophilia (Kathleen)?

Thanks to my God-given gift of bad timing, Benway Bunnies was put on hold just as a crazed reader (she's crazy, an Eskimo, and allergic to fish!) nominated it for the Blogette award. Even though I know it isn't going to win (ballot stuffers off the starboard bow!), I'd still feel like the most important person in YOUR life if you voted for it anyway.

All you have to do is pop open this link (or cast your eyes towards the information to your right in the Monthly Poll box), check the box for Benway Bunnies, and cast your vote.

So this is the PERFECT time for YOU to draw attention to the site! While you can't vote twice, your can threaten, bribe, and seduce other people to vote FOR you using their IP addresses! You don't need dignity here; shove your family, friends, and dead relatives over there with the promise of a totally hot Angela story (and if that doesn't work, tell them it's WILDLY EXPLICIT SEX STORY with HARDCORE SIXTY-NINE ACTION GOING ON!). OOPS, I gave away this week's not-so-secret theme!

Normally I make a point of not working with the same character in the span of two months, ESPECIALLY since in this case she was only introduced just two updates ago (Good Catholic). Thanks to being the mental equivalent of a ten-year-old, however, I noticed that I was one story away from having sixty-nine sitting in the folder. I'm not afraid to admit it, I'm immature. I'm SO fucking immature that I STILL SNICKER whenever I hear Bing Crosby sing '...make the Yuletide gay...' in Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas.

So, it was only natural when I ended up shouting 'OH MY GOD THE NEXT STORY IS SIXTY-NINE! IT HAS TO BE A SEX STORY!' at R, who didn't seem that shocked by my logic (he's used to it by now). Not having had a 'proper' sex scene since Good Idea (Made Not Born and Extra Credit don't count because both scenes are interrupted) I thought it was time to get gratuitous again. Easier said than done, but I remained deluded to THE VERY LAST SECOND (business as usual!).

This week's story, Third Base, is a conscious effort to put a distance between older and newer work. I made a point of really limiting myself to ensure I wouldn't repeat previous mistakes and fall into the same rhythm found in more dated pieces, and because I did I REALLY think that the story is BETTER for it (and I didn't have to sacrifice any of the explicit content, honest!).

While Third Base can be classified as a 'sex story' (please don't use 'erotica' when describing my work, ever!) the main character, Angela, doesn't actually have an orgasm. Because, let's face it, if you have any experience in taking part of the mythic '69' position you'll know first hand that's it's REALLY FUCKING DIFFICULT to enjoy getting eaten out when you're focused on giving head at the same time. That minor point might not seem like a big deal in the larger scheme of things, but I consider that tiny difference evolutionary.

Like I said earlier, I hadn't originally intended to with work with Angela again so quickly, but I was desperate. I was going to use an idea I've been sitting on for months, but by the time I popped open Word everything went blank. I had to discard two other stories (sorry Magdalena, I promise you'll have a new sex adventure with Rocky soon!) before finally settling on Angela. So, really, the entire 'dude this is the sixty-ninth story with sixty-nine going on' is coincidental, but a nice surprise (and the first sixty-nine scene on Benway Bunnies!).

I'm pretty proud of Third Base because I managed to achieve two things: strengthen narration with some minor editing and rewriting, and NOT USE THE SAME CLICHED WORDS I TYPICALLY USE WHEN WRITING SEX SCENES (there is no 'throbbing', at least not in a sexual context - HA!). For a story that I felt was somewhat rough around the edges when I began it, I'm pleased with how things panned out after I bit the bullet and gave it some uncharacteristic tweaking (I really hate rewriting shit, which is an obstacle I'm just going to have to get over).

In Third Base we find Angela doing what she does best - exploiting someone! When she isn't stealing shoes from men she's slept with she's preying on barely legal teenagers. I got into the dynamic between her and 'the kid' pretty easily, so don't be surprised if a part two eventually pops up with the same characters - Angela does anal! As Rhiannon would say, 'SEXY!'...unless she was talking about Angela then she would say 'ANTIBIOTICS!'.

To read Third Base simply click here. If you want to go the long route and find her other story, Good Catholic, simply click on the Misc. Sexy Girls link within the Fiction section of the site. Both Third Base and Good Catholic are located under the 2005 header. And once you finish (READING, you pervert!) be sure to vote for Benway Bunnies in the Blogette award...and force everyone you know to do it too.

Thanks to being neurotically focused on work (which is working, by the way) and trying to keep grief capped as best as possible (which isn't working as well) any and all free time is spent in sheer exhaustion. It's hard enough to write an update when I just don't have the drive, it's a million times worse when I'm so fucking depressed that I spontaneously burst into tears when grocery shopping.

I was less than thrilled when faced with the prospect of leaving my crudely constructed tent-bed just to write an entry last week, so R agreed to cover my ass. Which is, I guess, a natural progression regarding his involvement with this site since he's written a lot of the non-update site text, edits all of my work, and answers my email when I'm busy.

After listening to me complain for the billionth time about writing the update since Thursday, he graciously offered to reprise his editor-in-chief role. I ALMOST took him up on the offer, but then declined at the last second - I didn't want people to think I was just too fucking lazy to update myself for a second week in a row.

The truth of the matter is ALANA'S GETTING VERY BUSY. Work tends to be all consuming, so I'm forever fighting an 'all or nothing!' battle, with the first almost always winning. I understand that these updates embody the last TANGIBLE presence of myself on the site, so I promise that I'll make genuine effort to continue updating whenever I can.

I'd just like to point out that R updating for me isn't a BAD THING but a VERY GOOD THING. It means that I'm A, being productive and B, you're getting your weekly fix on time and without all of the personal bullshit that I need to include to have this site listed as a 'weblog' in various directories.

While the transition of duties will be gradual I wanted to assure you guys that the shift will be for the better. I'll still be around in one form or another, and you guys will always have the ability to contact me whenever you want. This is just one of those unfortunate realties that was inevitable once I started taking my career seriously (I'm 25 and a grown-up now!).

Now that the formality's out of the way I can concentrate on more important things, like this week's new story.

Are you sitting down? Your bladder's not full, is it? Good, because I'm going to say the single most thrilling thing you'll ever hear (no, not 'I SCANNED MY BOOBS FOR YOU AND HERE'S THE URL!' or even 'I'VE JUST GAINED OWNERSHIP OF SMALL SLAVIC COUNTRY - COME OVER AND BE MY PRIME MINISTER!').

This week's story introduces A BRAND NEW CHARACTER (OMG!)! Not only is she a NEW CHARACTER but she's the FIRST new character of this year (OMFG!)! It's about fucking time, too, since we're already five months into 2005 and at least a quarter of the updates so far have involved Ms Spastic Extraordinaire (Aspasia).

Angela's relatively new but somehow managed to make an appearance in a story years ago (Park & Ride) despite not having a complete character history (dude, that sort've shit takes YEARS!). Having always focused on more developed characters she got lost on the sidelines, so she must've bribed / killed / stolen someone's shoes to have been able to pop in my head earlier this week.

The choice was totally unexpected, then again every story for the last month has been unplanned and written at the last second. Although it's interesting to note that these stories seem to 'inspire' the character for next week (i.e., Rhiannon in Road Trip and then again in One Favour, the story after featuring Melanie who mentioned Angela in On the House, and now Angela in Good Catholic).

I'm not going to bother going into Angela's history since I think I covered the bases in the story (make sure you hit up On the House and Park & Ride for a further glimpse into the character). I told R that she's supposed to be a nastier mix of Jerusalem and Melanie, so it was something of a surprise when an almost EVIL personality came through. I was going less for CHILD OF SATAN than unapologetically self-centered, but you be the judge of how that worked out.

I felt like I struggled with the pacing towards the end, but that largely has to do with the style of the story (and me being 'crazy' and 'insane' and 'stupid'). I suppose in reality I'm still trying to get a better grip on this narration thing, so things aren't as comfortable as they used to be. It almost feels like I'm relearning how to write. I was told that the story was much stronger than last week's story (On the House), which I thought was a super huge amazing big breakthrough.

As much as I love all my girls I can't help but feel a tiny spark of excitement with the notion that I have something that resembles a proper villain (at least one I can write about without divulging future plans). I don't think I'd be remiss in saying that I expect Angela to reappear in the near future, provided her saintly presence stays in the back of my mind.

To meet Benway Bunnies' newest character, Angela, simply click here. Or you can go the long route and locate the story in the Misc. Sexy Girls section of Fiction. You'll find Good Catholic under the 2005 header. For more Angelaness, be sure to hit up Park & Ride and On the House.