Well, it's rather embarrasing to be honest..
I euh.. I can't get a hard on anymore.
It's been like this for about a month, or three.
And its not like I really give a damn, but my girlfriend is getting really offended, you know.. since a few weeks it's the same crap over and over again; you don't love me anymore, do you still find me attractive, is there someone else, blablabla.. you know how it goes.. And i can't stand that bs anymore so here i am..
No i don't have someone else.. please, i just can't get it up anymore.. and it's not like I don't try.. I've tried about everything there is to try.. and so did she, if you catch my drift..
Imagining my girl is someone else; no efect, watching porn; no effect, and really, I've tried every sort of porn there is; softcore, hardcore, anal, lesbian, gangbang, bdsm, piss and shit, milfs, asian, hairy, hell, I even watched bestiality and goddamn guy on guy porn.. Everything there is to watch I've watched; no effect..
What? Urologists? Tests?
I'm really not going to let some stranger check out my semi-dead cock up close..
It's been hard enough to come to you..
Haha, yeah, at least that's hard. But really; taking it out and showing it to god knows who? Not gonna happen..
Look, can't you just give me medication or something 'cause it ain't funny no more..
Ah, nevermind, forget I was ever here..
Thanks for nothing..

He was convinced she was going home with him. He paid for her drinks and kissed her ass all night long, for nothing. By the time she was totally wasted she told him L'Hotel Dieu was still open, next thing she'd fallen asleep so he just left without her.
I wouldn't know, probably just drunk talk.. Never heard of a Hotel Dieu..
Yeah, ok.. You finish up here, I'll get her out of here.
*Guy walks over to the sofa the woman fell asleep on
Hey lady, wake up. We're closi.. What the fuck?! You drunk piece of shit! You threw up all over my new jacket! Get up, you skank! Hey!
David? I think we have a problem.. Come over here..
Well.. We could call an ambulance but that's going to be such a hassle..
Personally I think we should just pick her up and dump her outside somewhere.
Please, it's 5 in the morning and she's dead anyway so it won't really matter.
She not breathing and I don't feel a pulse. That's dead in my book. Besides, she threw up on my jacket, she doesn't deserve a damn ambulance.
If anyone comes here asking questions we just say she left, drunk as hell. Who's going to know she died in here in stead of on the street?
It's not a big deal, people die all the time when they've had too much to drink and fall asleep. Especially in the wintertime, especially outside.
look, it's not like we killed her, we're just.. We're just getting rid of her.
Do you want to wait for an ambulance? Do you want to explain to the cops why she died in your bar?
Thank you.
Just a second, I'm going to see if she's got any money left, she didn't pay for her drinks so..
Sweet.. 200.. that should be enough to get my jacket drycleaned..
You want some too?
It's not like shes going to need it anytime soon.
Oh well, your loss.. Let's get rid of her, I wanna go to bed.
I'll take her by the shoulders, you take her legs and we'll dump her across the street.
*Two guys carry the woman out, dump her across the street and lock up the bar
David.. See you on monday.
Yeah, you too..

*In the smokingroom on one of the wards in a random psychiatric hospital

Why is Daisy's mum looking so down? And why's she visiting her if she's not around?
She disappeared? Didn't she just go out?
Oh, what did it say?
Sure she will..
They close the doors in 30 minutes.. I bet you she's back by then.
Sounds like we have a deal.
Cigarette?
I hope so too.. last time someone killed hisself here everybody got all.. emotional. it was really annoying. People crying and yelling, cutting and biting and scratching themselves in public. Not to mention the "wardmeetings", it was hell. Hell, I tell you..

*10 minutes pass, people enter the designated smokingroom and leave again, tiptoeing, whispering, serious.

Finally, some good news. Looks like you owe me.
Sure, that's all I care about.
I'm aware of that. But enough about me and back to Daisy. And don't hold back on the greasy details if you'd happen to know them. Entertainement is so rare around here.
Don't bother, I don't care about ethics.
Did she come back on her own?
No way.. How did she do that?
We're in the middle of fucking nowhere and she manages to get herself found by the cops?
It's dark outside, has been for hours. How hard can it be to stay hidden around here?
It's just a scam, she needs attention. I mean, to be "found" that easily..
Where did she go? The fucking trainstation?
Here she comes.
*Daisy walks in
Daisy, darling.. What did I hear, missed your train?
*Daisy runs back out
What?
Inappropriate but funny..
Yes it was, you people wouldn't know humor if it jumped up and bit you in the ass..
Screw you..





PS; This one, all my previous journalentries and the ones that will follow this one are purely fictional. Fictional, as in not real, fabricated. Keep this in mind, please.

*A trainstation in Brussels, noon;
You fucking piece of shit faggot! Do you have any clue what time it is?
A bit? I sat here for five fucking hours! Five! I should punch you in the face..
Yeah, yeah.. of course you're sorry..
Believe me, you're going to be even more sorry when you're jerking off alone tonight..
What do you mean, what? I'm going back home.. What did you think?
I stayed because I wanted to call you a faggot while I was still pissed of..
Now that's done so I can leave..
You'll make it up for it?
You call that making up for it?
So, follow with me here.. You are going to make this up to me by getting yourself laid? That's what you're saying?
Well, you can go find yourself a piece of fifteen year old ass to fuck somewhere else. Sick wanker.
Because I'm fed up with you, seriously fed up..
Well, I guess that means we're done. Aren't we?
*fifteen year old piece of ass walks away down a stairwell;
Asshole.. Five hours..
No, we're not going to talk about this, my train leaves in ten minutes!
And thanks to you my discman is out of juice! Should be real proud of yourself!
Hell.. two hours and a half on a train and no music..
Didn't even bring a book..
Stupid me..

*At an anonymous dokter's office in an anonymous city.
Mr. Davis, what can I help you with?
Excuse me?
Could you repeat yourself a bit more clearly, please?
Your lung?
And why would I do that?
Ooooh, Pirelli sent you here. Why didn't you say so immediately?
Your lungs are in good condition?
Did you ever smoke?
No illnesses of any kind?
Good.. that's all I needed to know.
You'll get paid at delivery, don't worrie about that.
5000..
Take it or leave it, I don't care.
If you rather think about it for some time longer..
You're absolutely right, sometimes a man must make sacrifices in order to take care of his family.
If everything goes as it should, which it does 95% of the time, you'll be up and about in a day or six. With few to no side effects. At least nothing to be worried about..
Pain, of course, and some discomfort breathing. I'll perscribe you something for the pain, and the discomfort will gradually disappear on it's own.
Now, the practical side, it goes like this; In a day or two my secretary will give you a call. When she does, do exactly as you're told and for your own sake; don't be late.
Mr. Davis, I'll see you in a few days.
Save your gratitude for Pirelli, he did you the favor, not me.
Goodbye Mr. Davis.
Could you close the door behind you on your way out, please? Thank you.
Dumb bastard..
Miss Romero!?
*Secretary walks in
Could you call Mr; Pirelli for me please, tell him I recieved the spare parts. And tell him not to worrie, Davis won't walk out of here again.