- I Hate Canada
- By: Trent Reznor's Ballsack
- Canada, again. I've never really liked Canada, it's so fucking cold. This tour is sucking, my life is terrible, and now I'm cold. And Canadian bacon is just ham. I fucking hate Canada. I can't wait until this tour is over. After this, I am done. No more. Nine Inch Nails “live” is over as far as I am fucking concerned. Oh great, there's Justin. He's just going to ask me what's wrong, why I am biting my nails down to nubs, and why I am staring at his hair.
- “Hey Trent.... what's wrong? Why are you biting your nails again, I told you that you need to stop that, and stop staring at my hair!” Sure enough, that's exactly what he said.
- “Oh shut the fuck up, I am in no mood for your shit. This bacon is not bacon, it is ham.” Well, it is just ham. Canadians, all fucking liars!
- “Okay then. But really, what's eating you? You look more depressed than usual, which is really saying something.” He's such a fucking retard, I swear.
- “Nothing. If you don't know by now, then it doesn't matter. Just leave me alone, and go style your whiteboy-fro some more.” I'm so fed up with him, seriously. I turn my back to him, almost cuddling my iPhone, hoping he gets the point. He doesn't.
- “Trent... I know I haven't known you long, but I can tell when you're hurting.” I hear Justin walking up behind me, to where I sit basically curled up on the couch. I feel him sit down next to me, but my back is still turned on him. I wish he'd just go away. “I want to help, in any way I can. I really can't stand to see anybody I care about like this.” He touches my shoulder, lightly. I was about to shrug off his hand, but something stopped me, and I just let him keep it there.
- “You... care about me?” I ask, still not wanting to look at him, firmly clutching my iPhone, and staring at it's clock. 12:34 AM.
- “Well... yeah... I mean, I care about you, because we're in this band, this amazing band. You can do anything, everybody loves you. I love you.” I feel myself let out a little tear, it lands on my iPhone's screen, damn it.
- “Justin, stop. Please. I can't.... deal with this right now.” I don't know what this fucker is trying to do, but I wish he would just stop and go away.
- “Do you really want me to stop, Trent?” His hand has moved from my shoulder, to my bicep, and he squeezed it lightly. I am frozen in time, I can't do anything. “Trent, I love you, and I would do anything to make you happy... anything.” It was that last 'anything'. Something in his voice, it told me that he really does mean anything. Including what I think he is proposing. But I don't want to go there. I can't. Not yet.
- “Justin...” I manage to whisper, tears still coming out of my eyes, landing on my iPhone, probably damaging it in some way. Good thing I got the protection plan. Hopefully it covers water damage.
- “Shh...” And I feel him closer to me now, his breath on my neck, his hair tickling my skin. He smells like cherries, and I am not sure how or why I even recognize that smell. The whole situation is sending shivers down my spine. And now he's moving his head down, his lips are against the back of my neck, not really kissing, just sitting there. I can't move.
- “Justin...” I say again, my voice uneven and shaky, I don't know where he plans on taking this. I'm not sure I want to know.
- “Shh...” He releases my bicep. His hands find the hem of my shirt, and I know what he's wanting to do. He tugs up a bit, hoping I'll get the hint. I know what he wants. I'm in shock, really. I don't know what to do other than go with it. I lift my arms, so he can take off my shirt.
- “Justin...” I really can't say anything else. His arms are now wrapped around me, and I can't comprehend why this is happening, or how, or where this is going to lead. If I get too into it, and he stops, I feel like an idiot, and the whole band will just laugh at me. I'll just sit here and stare at my iPhone.
- “I told you, I would do anything...” He's saying this right into my ear, his mouth practically up against it. He starts nibbling on my earlobe, and I shudder a bit, the sensations are getting too much to handle. Must stay sane, must stare at iPhone.
- I have nothing to say. I'm just letting him touch me, his hands exploring my chest, grazing over my nipples, moving downwards towards my belly button, and then finding my belt buckle. I have to do something. I can't let this happen. I grab his hand, and can feel him being surprised about it.
- “Trent... you know where this is going...” Yes, yes I do, and it can't. Not now. “And I want you to just relax and let me do this for you.” Oh right, for me. Sure.
- “Justin... no.” I can't do this, seriously. But he either didn't hear me, or doesn't care, and continues working on my belt buckle, and I let him. There's no use fighting it. And now his mouth has made it's way onto my neck, kissing, licking, lightly biting. Damn it, I feel something in my pants stirring. So not cool.
- “Trent, yes.” Why must he do this to me? All I want is just to sit here and mope with my iPhone. But no, of course. He finally undoes the buckle and pulls off my belt, throwing it elsewhere. And then goes to work on getting my pants undone. “I guess you're excited about this, too.” I can practically hear that fucking smile of his, spread all across his face, when he feels how aroused I am by this. My body betrays me so much, I hate it.
- “Justin, shut up, please...” It's not long before he has my pants undone, however, and he is trying to get me to lift my hips to pull them off of me. Fine, I'll oblige. There's no way to fight it. He gets them off, and throws them elsewhere too. Damn it, of course I pick tonight to be laundry night, and I am not wearing any underwear. Good going, Trent. Always thinking.
- “That's so fucking hot, Trent.” His breath is hot in my ear. I can't stand the way this is making me feel. I'm already pretty much completely hard, this is so not cool. I hate myself. I hate my body and I hate myself. I want to die. His hand found it's way to my erection, and now he's stroking it. Oh good god... why me...?
- “Justin please, please, don't do this...” My body is betraying me in every way, my dick is so hard, and my head is leaning back onto his shoulder, and there's nothing I can do to stop it. So what does this fucker do? He pumps me faster. Fucker.
- “I'm not going to stop.” He's such an asshole, god what a fucking asshole. His fro is tickling my cheek, and somehow I am starting to love that feeling. I should just go die in a fire. I'll set the bus' gas tank on fire later. I should just die. What the fuck? My hand is now reaching back to touch his cheek, my thumb on his lips, and now he's sucking it in. Swirling his tongue around it, making me go insane, wishing he was doing that to my cock. I hate him. But not as much as I hate me.
- I just moaned. It was deep, primal, and didn't sound like me at all. This is bad, this is not going to end well. His mouth releases my thumb, and he grabs my face, bringing my mouth to his. Kind of painful, really, bending my neck that much to meet his mouth, but now I am just too into it, and I deserve all the pain I get. Our tongues dance around each other's, and he continues working on my dick with his hand, making me despise him even more.
- “I want to taste you, Trent.” Must he say these words like that? Fuck him, fuck him, fuck him. He gets up, and moves in front of me. Hey, don't throw my iPhone! But I can't yell at him, I'm too shocked and lust-drugged right now. Suddenly, his mouth is on my cock, and I throw my head back and moan. He starts deep throating me, and that damn fro is tickling my thighs. I grab his hair, getting my hands in good and deep, and tug lightly, this is all too much sensation for me.
- This is bad. I hate this, so much. Actually, I love this, which is why I hate it. I am not supposed to feel good, what the fuck is this shit? I don't know if Justin has ever sucked dick before, but he sure does know how to do it. He's not even gagging. I don't know how he does it. This makes me self-conscious, what if my dick is not as big as he would have liked it to be? Why do I even care about this? I close my eyes, I can't bear to look at this anymore.
- I am so close to orgasming, I can't even express any of this to Justin. He just continues, my cock hitting the back of his throat, and me moaning and pulling on his fro. I hope this hurts him. He deserves it. Actually, no. I would deserve it, but I don't have my long hair anymore. Apparently he knows I'm close, however, and starts going faster. I hate the both of us.
- And then it happens. I cum harder than I have in a long, long time. All into his mouth. And he swallows it all down. I am very impressed, actually. He has this look on his face, like he wants more, and this scares me, because I know he's ragingly hard, and I really don't want to get fucked in the ass. Interscope already did that to me once this week.
- But he is looking at me with those blue eyes. And something tells me I have no choice in the matter. So I just roll over on the couch, ass up, ready to accept what I know is coming to me. I deserve it, anyways. And sure enough, I feel him upon me, suddenly naked, in two seconds flat.
- “Trent, this will be good for the both of us, I promise.” I do nothing, say nothing, as I hear him spit into his palm, makeshift lube, and start rubbing it on my asshole. Gee, this will be so pleasant. And he enters me, which really, really, really fucking hurts. I scream out, and he covers my mouth with his hand, and eases into me gently. I get used to him inside of me, and he removes his hand from my mouth.
- He thrusts into me, starting slowly. He's right, this does feel good, and it makes me so fucking pissed off. That's not fair. He's moaning, into my ear, and now nibbling on it again. I hate him. So much. This is just too much. I bite my lip, waiting for him to go faster.
- Which he does. I hate him so much for this. He's so fucking fired, if I don't kill him first. He's going pretty fast now, hitting my prostate in all the right ways. I look up at him, behind me. He's got his eyes closed, and his fro is bouncing comically with every thrust. I resist cracking a smile, however, and turn back forward. God damn it, why must he do this to me? I'll kill him, I swear I will, if I don't kill myself first.
- “Damn Trent, you're so tight.... have to say, I didn't expect that..... honestly...” I should kill him for just that remark. He just called me gay! He's so dead. But, I just keep biting my lip. I think it's bleeding now, but I don't care. Faster, now he's going faster. I think he's close, I hope he is. I hope this all just ends soon.
- And there he goes. Screaming, practically, in my ear. His hot cum is filling me, and I have to say, it felt nice. Too nice. Fuck him. He's so dead once this is all over and we catch our breath. He's fucking dead. So dead.
- I just lay there on my stomach, sobbing into the cushions. Literally sobbing. Like you've never heard before. He pulls out of me, I can tell he's worried.
- “Trent, Trent! Are you okay?! Did I hurt you?! Oh god, I 'm so sorry! I didn't mean to, I mean, I was just trying to make you feel better!” He's dead. So dead.
- I roll over, my dead eyes staring into his. I hope he takes that as a warning and gets the fuck out soon. I get up and go to my bedroom in the bus, to find My Box. He's dead. I get back, with My Box, and he's still sitting there. Staring at me looking worried. He should be. He should've left while he had the chance. Now there's no escaping me.
- “Trent, what are you..” is all he manages to get out before I grab my new knife, brand new, never used, out of My Box. I grab him by the throat and pull him up to meet me.
- “Nobody ever fucks with me like that. Nobody. Ever wonder why I go through band members so fast? And why you never hear from them again after they “quit”? Yeah. Get ready to say hi.” And then I slit his throat. And then he's dead. His blood spurting out, and running down my arm, coating his body and mine.
- Ahh yes, my body. I can't forget about my body. And it's betrayal. I drop Justin, and cut my wrists. Just for dramatic effect, really. That wont do anything to me. So I find the gun I keep also in My Box, for security reasons. But this time, all my anger is directed at me. I need to die. And I hope whoever finds me and Justin blames Canada and it's inferior bacon for this.
- he couldn't believe how easy it was
- he put the gun into his face
- (so much blood from such a tiny little hole)
- problems have solutions
- a lifetime of fucking things up fixed in one determined flash
- everything's blue
- in this world
- the deepest shade of mushroom blue
- all fuzzy
- spilling out of my head
- THE END
- (end lyrics taken from “The Downward Spiral”)
Trent Reznors Ballsack
a guest Dec 6th, 2008 96 Never
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