Last night hilst they selpt i decided that I neededd to be back home where i B elong! If they had slept in our bedroom...their bedrooom now...they would have heard me. They didnt!

I carried some clothes, my box of olfest comics and my comp little by little back to my old rppm here in my step-dad's house.

No sleep. No worries. No more pain. No more sanity.

one glad morning when this life is over IIIIIiiii will fly ayaw!


These Are The Days Of Our FUCKYOUFUCKYOUFUCKYOU Lives...

Day four in the attic.
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Sleep comes seldom. I hear them downstairs but they don't bother me. At 9am Emily brings up my meds, but she's not Lora and is easy to fool.


Memories of days past keep floating thru my head. Memories of living next door, being young and alone sitting in the dark night after night on my comp, in my room, just looking at the world thru a screen.
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I think I will be lost soon.

Things keep me company up here. Little things that scurry around on the floor, invisible to me but I can hear them. Big things that sometimes look over my shoulder, breathing heavy with the smell of rotting teeth, to see what the world is doing online. I never turn around to see what they look like.
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Suggested to me in an email; "Take a walk. Get some fresh air to clear your head. Talk to the animals."

But my head hasn't been this clear in a very, very long time. I can hear the chattering of insects as they spread their madness across the world.

Dead grandma walks around behind me singing, "One glad morning when this life is over IIIIIIII will fly awaaaaay." Old song, I think. I think she use to sing it often when she was alive. When I was a little girl.
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I think.

She sometimes sits on the floor next to me, laying her head on my knee and asking in her sweet, monotone voice, "Just strooooke gra'ma's haaaair, prettypretty. Gran'ma liiiikes it when you strooooke her haaaair."
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I try to oblidge her but she has rotted away so badly since her last visit that the maggots crawling round the holes in her head keep falling off, squirming on my leg, dropping on my feet and squiggling their plump little yellow bodies between my toes.

She gets up and walks around the attic singing again. I always know where to find her tho. Just follow the trail of maggots.

Thankfully the little invisible things on the floor make a meal out of most of them.

Heh, thankfully.

Emily comes up again at 9am and everything hides. She puts my meds on the desk and talks to me. Or, PRETENDS to talk to me. Her lips move but no words come out. I play along and smile, laugh when she laughs, kiss her reassuringly to let her know that all is good.
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All is good again.

Warren Ellis has sent his little spidery creatures to visit. They sit on the outside of my windows tapping their ninth leg on the glass over and over letting me know they're here. They're connected to Warren's brain and he sees what they see. Sometimes I put on a show for him.

He does so like to watch me masterbate. Last night I did it over and over...and over again for him.

The Bendis Board is full of tripe and nonsense. I read thru their posts and try to make use of their public thoughts, while trying to use their words to see inside their heads. I don't think anyone likes me there. I messaged Jim but FUCKHIM he seems to be ignoring me so...

Kent thinks it's funny to reply to me with jibberish. He mixes up the letters in his words and expects me to sort them out. I can't sort your words out for you, Kent. We twenty-something witches can barely sort out our own words.
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I read Angelle's blog often and look at her pretty face. I imagine me sitting on the floor next to her while she surfs the net late at night alone, my head on her knee, asking her to just stroooooke my haaaair.

Mostly I just sit here watching you all. You think I can't see you but I can. You come here from Google Image search and a few of you sick bastards think a search of "Christians masterbating is it wrong" thru ask.com might lead you to some glorius answers here.

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Just above the ninth level, I suspect. Just so you can still look down on Judas. (YOU SHOULDN'T HAVE FUCKING KISSED HIM MORON!)

Last night very late I got up and walked around the floor with dead grandma. She kept stopping me, touching my face, asking, "Siiiiing with meeee, prettypretty," but I can't sing worth a crap, so I just hug her then quickly pull away, brushing the maggots off when she's not looking. I don't want to offend, after all.
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My head hurts sometimes. Taking in the world will do that to you. I try to make it stop. I keep thumping keep thumping keep thumping my head against the wall and that usually makes the pain go away.

Dead grandma points to a spot in the back of the attic where the sharp ends of nails are sticking out and says, "Here, prettypretty, heeeere."

Sometimes I think she may be right.
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Either that or maybe off I go to the Land of Eng. Agric would surely have a spare room for me. A spare room or a doghouse. I'm not picky. I'm sleeping under a FUCKING desk now. He asked me what pb&j is t'other night. (Fuckin' NON-American!)


I'm on my second jar. Nothing else can satisfy the hunger. Pb&j, coffee and marshmellows stuffed with chocolate chips. That's all I need. That and to listen to my dear, dear sweet maggot infested dead grandma singing old songs I barely remember behind me.

I think I will be lost soon.

I've brought this all on myself. STUPID LOW-RENT WHORE THAT I AM!
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I get nothing but what I deserve. Atone for my sins. I have to pay. I have to pay. I have to pay. Three times three. Reap it! Just fucking REAP IT!

The insects are still chattering in the distance and I think I'm lost.
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Latest Stats, A Beautiful Woman, My So Called F'D Up Life!

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"I have often wished I had time to cultivate modesty... But I am too busy thinking about myself." ~Edith Sitwell (1887 - 1964)

The lastest visitor statistics for Sara's Darkness!
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Just giving BIG SHOUTS to an old friend who I lost contact with long ago but is now back in my life. Take a walk down the road to Whoville with me and say hi...
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I made a HUGE mistake recently that I'll explain in detail some other time. Right now I just wanted to make a public apology to my one and ONLY true love, Lorabelle Tempest Riley. Without her I would be dead right now.
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Special thanks to Agric, Jim and Angelle for listening to my problems and helping me to make sense of life.

That's all for now.


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Okay, These Three Lesbians Walk Into A Bar...

A PICTURELESS Adventure Of The Witch, The Belle and The Grave. (Because I didn't have time for pics tonight.)

Sara Poe = Witch Sara
Lora Riley = Lora Belle
Emily Ellison = Emily Graves

Saturday brunch. Usually eggs with pork and fried potatos. Toast and jam, too. Coffee, the ANYTIME drink, of course. Not all lesbians are vegans, eh. Phone rings. The Witch and the Belle continue eating knowing that the Grave will jump from her seat and try to catch it before the second ring. (It's a thing. :\ )

"Someone named Deanna," says the Grave and points the phone towards the Belle.

"Ohso cool," says the Belle, "We haven't heard from her since before Yule."

After a few minutes of chit-chat...

"Hey, you guys wanna go to St. Louis tonight? To a GAY BAR!"

The Witch's eyes widen. "I don't like bars. And you remember what happened the last time we went to a bar." (BANNED! From walking the streets alone in downtown Toronto. Or maybe it was Ontario? Whichever one is across the river from Detroit, MI.)

"C'mon, Sara" says the Grave with her usual giddiness at trying new things. (Mmmmmmmmmm, giddy young lesbians.)

"C'mon, baby, Deanna's uncle is a manager. We won't get carded." Coaxs the Belle with a smile. (Mmmmmmm, smiling young lesbians. :p )

"pweeze?" Begs the Grave. "I'll owe you...FAVORS!" (Hear it echoe? Favors favors favors...)

"Well," says the Witch with a half smile, then she almost whispers the words, "I DO like favors."

Long pause....

"Fluck it. Let's do it."

"YAY!" The Grave jumps from her chair and starts dancing and singing all over the kitchen. "Weeeeee'rrrreeee going to a GAY bar! YAY! YAY! YAY!" And she looks so very sexy jumping up and down wearing only a T and no undies.

The three have to start getting ready soon. St. Louis is only an hour and a half away but prep time could last forever.

Later, as they're getting ready...

"Is it gonna be safe? I've only been to St. Louis once when I was little," says the Grave. "We'll be good," says the Witch. "Deanna's totally cool."

"How are we getting home after the bar?" Asks the Grave. "We're staying at Deanna's apartment," replies the Belle.

"Are we gonna have a foursome," asks the Grave. (Right outta the FUCKIN' blue!) The Witch and the Belle stop in their tracks and both turn to look at her together.

"Deanna's NOT gay," says the Belle, matter of factly.

"And you're a big hoe," follows the Witch with a laugh. (Just for the sake of arguement, Emily isn't actually a big hoe. She's just new to this thing we call Lesbian Life and asks a whole lotta Q's, which can get slightly annoying, but on the upside she is willing to do...anything!)

After a long drive and a quick meet-up at Deanna's apartment, our heroines walk two blocks and arrive at *says in BOOMING voice* THE GAY BAR DEANNA'S UNCLE MANAGES! (Yup, forgot the name of the place already.)

Let me stop here and emphasize how different the three are. When arriving at the bar...

The Belle is calm and collective, talking to Deanna as they walk thru the door.

The Grave is so excited she's almost bouncing and keeps giggling to herself.

The Witch starts having second thoughts and wants to go home, but says nothing, just holds the Grave's hand ever so tightly.

After a quick chat with the Uncle, they sit and are approached by the bar wench. "Wuddaya have?"

"Four rum and cokes," replies the Belle. "Bacardi light," she adds.

"Wait!" The Grave speaks up. "I think I want to try..." She looks at the Belle and The Witch and smiles. "...a slow screw."

"HOE!" The Witch thinks to herself. The waitress, a catty wench for sure, replies without missing a beat, "You want that up against the wall, sweety?"

The Grave looks surprised, "I...don't know." To which the Wench lets out a small laugh then walks away saying, "Three r&c's and a slow screw commin' atcha, girls. Right back inna sec." (Just in case you didn't know, a slow screw is slo gin, vodka and oj.)

As time passes, the three begin to settle in rather well. The Belle is talking to Deanna and some new friends whilst they play pool. The Grave, too, has met new friends and stands at the bar laughing with them. The Witch...well, the Witch has the most IMPORTANT thing of all to do.

She sits quietly and guards their table as the others roam about the bar.

Just sitting.

Alone. :(

Like the TOTAL little wallflower that she is when it comes to such public outings.

Her girls are very open and outgoing when it comes to these sitch's but the Witch is different. Other than the fact that she truly believes MOST PEOPLE should be locked up in her cellar suffering the pangs of torture and imprisonment, there just didn't seem to be anyone of interest at the bar.

Well...there was ONE person that might be interesting. Sitting at a corner table, alone and reading a book (Hmmm, I've never heard of reading at a bar.), was an older looking blonde. She looked to be in her thirties, tall, very slim, almost like a retired model. Very pretty. The Witch was sure she had caught the Blonde stealing glances in her direction.

Just then the Grave appears, "Sara!" she half yells, flops down on the Witch's lap, hugs her tightly, "Danth with me, Lora won't."

"How many of those slow screws have you had?" The Witch asks.

"Uuuuum, five! Plus the one we had this morning before brunch," the Grave slyly says, then presses her forehead against the Witch's and adds, "And I could SHORE use anudder one rights `bout now. Wanna play Texas cheerleader?" (She meant to say "Carolina" cheerleader and if you don't get the reference... http://www.courttv.com/people/cheerleaders/photogallery/index.html?curPhoto=1 )

Now, normally the Witch would JUMP at such a chance, but a quick glance around the bar said three things to her.

1) There were WAY too many people standing in line at the bathroom.

2) Lora had already taken notice of the two and kept looking at them. The Witch knew she suspected and would poo-poo the whole idea, and...

3) The blonde across the bar was now watching them and didn't turn away when the Witch made eye contact with her.

"I'm wallflowering tonight, go have fun. Dance with your new friends," said the Witch.

"Nooooo," the Grave drunkenly hugs her tight, "They're too...butch. I wanna be with you." (As you may have guessed, our three heroines are VERY much into girly girls. Not large on the butch.)

After being assured by the Witch that she was going to be NO FUN tonight, the Grave reluctently gets up and joins the Belle by the pool table. The Witch looks over where the blonde was sitting, but she's gone. "Bummer," the Witch thinks to herself.


Within a few minutes she hears from behind her, "Hullo. Would you mind if I joined you?"

It was the blonde, and she spoke with the SEXIEST British accent the Witch has EVA heard. She sits, they talk. Her name is Elizabeth, but "Beth" for short. She's lived in the U.S. for three years and works at a law firm in St Louis. The two seem to be connecting pretty well, but then reality jumps up and smacks them both in the face.

"Hey," The Belle says as she sits down.

"Who's this, Sara," the Grave asks as she sits beside her with a AND-WHY-THE-FUCK-IS-SHE-HERE look on her face.

"This is Beth," she answers, "Beth, this is Lora and this is Emily.


"Both of you?" The blonde asks then looks at the Witch.

"It's a THING," the Witch says.

"I'm sorry," the blonde starts to get up, "I never intended to..."

The Witch interrupts and stands with her, "You didn't, my girlfriends are just over protective. You're welcome to stay."

At this, the Grave gets up, lets out a "HMMPH!" then walks away. The Belle stands and says, "She's drunk. I'm sorry. We didn't mean to come over and get all COMMANDO on you." She then kisses the Witch and says to her, "But we're about ready to go, okay?"

"Ready when you are," The Witch says.

While the Belle heads back to the pool table to gather the girls, the Witch apologizes again to the blonde. "It's fine, really," says the blonde, then writes her phone number down on a napkin and hands it to the Witch. "Perhaps you'll call me sometime," she says with a smile.

The Witch can't help it. She smiles back and stuffs the napkin in her back pocket.

The night ended with the girls back at Deanna's apartment eventually passing out together on the sofabed. They spent most of the next day sleeping and didn't make it back home to Quincy till late Sunday night.

The Witch hasn't called the blonde.





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My pussy loves Emily very much. They even share the same favorite song. It's called "Beautiful," (313kb, mp3 file, Right click, save target as... http://geocities.yahoo.com.br/raaage_more/Beautiful_.mp3 ) Yesterday I walked into the bedroom and there lay the two of them, snuggled up together, with Emily singing the song to him as it played in the background and he just purring away in her arms.
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I stood there and watched till Emily saw me and smiled her sweet little smile, then held her arms out for me to join them. I walked to the foot of the bed and slowly started to crawl up to her face, the evil intentions betrayed by my eyes and slight smile. My pussy took the hint, made a snarfing sound, then got up and walked away. (My other pussy took the hint, too.;p) The song played over and over while we made love.

This was after a very LONG and boring visit to the doctor. Emily hasn't been feeling well these last few weeks and lately she's felt like crap. So she and I spent the day at our doctor's office along with a visit to Blessing Hospital so they could take some blood samples.
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Lora, working at the community center across the street from our house, must have called a dozen times. She's such a worry-wart! She came home right after while Emily and I were in the shower and, after making the comment, "GOD! You guys fuck all the time!," joined us. Small shower, but that just made it all the better.
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It's late now. Night has fallen and we're all sitting on the porch. I'm on Emily's laptop. Lora is reading and Emily has the headphones on listening to "Beautiful" play over and over again. I imagine that she's reliving our love making in her mind. The Nighthawks and bats are swooping around the streetlights catching insects. Right now it seems as if time has no meaning and moments like these are the ones I never want to end.
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But they always do.

Emily just got up and said that she wants to run so she and Lora are running around the community. Emily has this thing, see, where whenever she's feeling INTENSE she likes to run. After we got home from that HORRID visit with her parents she ran lots.

"Just run," she says, "and everything starts to make sense."

My athletic sweety Lora will run with her whenever she's home. Me...Lora and I tried jogging in the mornings when we first moved in here. The first day I got as far as the main road to town then turned around and walked home. The third day Lora said it was no fun jogging alone so she quit, too.

I like the alone time, anyways. Sitting here in the dark with no sounds except the insects screaming in the trees and chirping in the grass, along with the occasional howl in the distance.

Tho now that I think about it, those two will probably run a couple miles, get all HOT and SWEATY, collapse on the ground...and I'll let your imagination take care of the rest.

I shoulda went with them. :(
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AAARGH! Fuckin', STINKIN', sweaty lesbians!

Drifting now. Better come back to the keyboard lest I get carried away and go upstairs to give my pussy a massage. That one purrs sometimes, too.
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p.s. I've also just recently discovered...THE SIMS!
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Things are going badly for my widdle peeps.


EE has been updated.

We Are Very Small...
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Tho some things in the heavens shine brighter...
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...and brighter...
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...and the brightest of them all.<3<3<3
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by Edgar Allan Poe (No relation.)
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Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore--
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
"'Tis some visiter," I muttered, "tapping at my chamber door--
Only this and nothing more."

Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December,
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
Eagerly I wished the morrow;--vainly I had sought to borrow
From my books surcease of sorrow--sorrow for the lost Lenore--
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore--
Nameless here for evermore.

And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
Thrilled me--filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating
"'Tis some visiter entreating entrance at my chamber door--
Some late visiter entreating entrance at my chamber door;
This it is and nothing more."

Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
"Sir," said I, "or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;
But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,
And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,
That I scarce was sure I heard you"--here I opened wide the door--
Darkness there and nothing more.

Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortals ever dared to dream before;
But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token,
And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, "Lenore?"
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, "Lenore!"--
Merely this and nothing more.

Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,
Soon again I heard a tapping something louder than before.
"Surely," said I, "surely that is something at my window lattice;
Let me see, then, what thereat is and this mystery explore--
Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore;--
'Tis the wind and nothing more.

Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,
In there stepped a stately Raven of the saintly days of yore.
Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he,
But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door--
Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door--
Perched, and sat, and nothing more.

Then the ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,
"Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou," I said, "art sure no craven,
Ghastly grim and ancient Raven wandering from the Nightly shore--
Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore!"
Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."

Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,
Though its answer little meaning--little relevancy bore;
For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being
Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door--
Bird or beast upon the sculptured bust above his chamber door,
With such name as "Nevermore."

But the Raven, sitting lonely on that placid bust, spoke only
That one word, as if its soul in that one word he did outpour
Nothing farther then he uttered; not a feather then he fluttered--
Till I scarcely more than muttered: "Other friends have flown before--
On the morrow he will leave me, as my Hopes have flown before."
Then the bird said "Nevermore."

Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,
"Doubtless," said I, "what it utters is its only stock and store,
Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful Disaster
Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore--
Till the dirges of his Hope that melancholy burden bore
Of 'Never--nevermore.'"

But the Raven still beguiling all my sad soul into smiling,
Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird and bust and door;
Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking
Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore--
What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt, and ominous bird of yore
Meant in croaking "Nevermore."

This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing
To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom's core;
This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining
On the cushion's velvet lining that the lamp-light gloated o'er,
But whose velvet violet lining with the lamp-light gloating o'er
She shall press, ah, nevermore!

Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer
Swung by Seraphim whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor.
"Wretch," I cried, "thy God hath lent thee--by these angels he hath sent thee
Respite--respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore!
Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe and forget this lost Lenore!"
Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."

"Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil!--prophet still, if bird or devil!--
Whether Tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,
Desolate, yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted--
On this home by Horror haunted--tell me truly, I implore--
Is there--is there balm in Gilead?--tell me--tell me, I implore!"
Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."

"Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil!--prophet still, if bird or devil!
By that Heaven that bends above us--by that God we both adore--
Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn,
It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels name Lenore--
Clasp a rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore."
Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."

"Be that our sign of parting, bird or fiend!" I shrieked, upstarting--
"Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore!
Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul has spoken!
Leave my loneliness unbroken!--quit the bust above my door!
Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!"
Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."

And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming
And the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws his shadows on the floor;
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
Shall be lifted--nevermore!


In Search Of...

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I'm currently looking for a movie called "Lost and Delirious" and would be grateful if anyone knows where I can download it. Winmx is gone so I have no p2p device. It stars the AMAZINGLY sexy Piper Perabo and FABULOUSLY adorably Mischa Barton *both in pic below* and YES, it's a lesbian schoolgirl movie, but it's also a very powerful love story. (It even has the standard I-have-to-pay-for-being-GAY ending.)
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Check out the trailer here, (wmv file, 9mb) http://www.lost-and-delirious.com/multimedia_index.htm , and an excellent video about the flic called "Pour paulie" here, http://groups.msn.com/theLostandDelirioussite/multimdia.msnw


If you have it on dvd, and I know you, I can give a snailmail addy, too. Thankx in advance!



Origional D.e.b.s.
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D.E.B.S. is a super-secret paramililtary organization dedicated to fighting crime worldwide. Lucinda Reynolds aka Lucy in the Sky (Clare Kramer aka Glory from Buffy the Vampire Slayer), is an ex-DEB gone bad. Amy (Alex Breckenridge) is Lucy's girlfriend, even though Amy is still w/ D.E.B.S. Lucy has captured Amy for the sole purpose of them having sex together (it's the only way they can be alone w/ each other). They kiss passiontely and take each other's clothes off while the rest of the D.E.B.S. try & rescue Amy. Lucy fingers Amy & gives her the big O.

This is intended to be a spoof of the spy genre w/ lesbian overtones. It's more funny than sexy (like 'Kissing Jessica Stein') but the 2 actresses go at it w/ gusto, which is more than can be said for most g/g scenes. I give it 2 thumbs up.

Quicktime ( .mov file ) 16.7mb, 11 minutes long