HOW TO BE A LEGEND IN YOUR OWN TIME, INVOLVING LATRINALIA
There were three girls' bathrooms at Sacred Heart Holy Angels. Four, if you counted the girls' locker room in the gym. All of them scrawled over with the girls' cursive script graffiti. You could break girls' graffiti down into three basic categories. ~ Instead of phylum, genus, species, girls' graffiti filed down like this: Love, Sex, and Inspiration. Love (The most basic and boring): Brandy and Thomas 2Getha 4Evah Show your boy some class. Don't write his name while wiping your ass. I (heart) Javier.
Sex: Sex is good for your complexion. Juli Sung gives great head. Astrid Thornton is a Whore on the Hill.
Inspiration (Or Philosophy. Depending on how seriously you take this kind of thing.): It's hard to make a comeback when you haven't been anywhere. I hate calculus. If it has tires or testicles, you're going to have trouble with it. You're too good for him. A closed mouth gathers no foot. And a picture of a penis next to it.
Early February when we were bored and had nothing better to do, Astrid started her own category. She began carrying a black Sharpie in her blue suede satchel. She carried it everywhere and started inking the bathrooms at Sacred Heart Holy Angels. Don't mess with the Whores on the Hill. The Whores on the Hill will fuck you up. Be a Whore on the Hill. You know you want to. Beware of the Whores on the Hill. They know what you did.
Slowly, she started penning the walls of all our favourite hangout spots: the Coffee Trader, The Oriental, Metropolis. The Whores on the Hill are coming to a town near you. Invasion of the Whores on the Hill. The Whores on the Hill were here. You missed it. Whores...not bores. Want to be a feminist? Be a Whore on the Hill. Got a question? Ask a Whore on the Hill. She knows all. Hail Whores, you art in Sacred Heart, hallowed be thy names. The Whores on the Hill are God.
"There," Astrid said, snapping the cap back on her black Sharpie. "Much better, right?" The whole word written with our name.
Since this community is fairly inactive at the moment, since there are v. few members and the book is still new, i've decided to post quotes from the book whenever i feel like it...to keep things interesting. :D (if you feel so compelled, feel free to do the same.)
Church of Deb Scott
Before us, there was another. Deb Scott sniffed modeling glue. She ate speed. She smoked hash instead of cigarettes. Deb Scott was the ultimate, the uber, the super badass bad girl. Astrid and Juli talked about her all the time. All the girls from Sacred Heart Holy Angels did. "Deb Scott got caught in the track shed, shagging a kid from Fenwick." "She Frenched Father Flynn in his car once. Just to freak him out." "Deb Scott boosted a pickup truck once and cut clear across Shumacker's field. Drove a crop circle right into the corn. Three thousand dollars worth of damage. I'm serious. For real."
Deb Scott danced late nights at the Metropolis with her skinny white arms over her hair. She gave a guy head during the middle of a midnight movie at the Oriental. Deb Scott spun herself in circles in the middle of the night at the all-night diner, like, out of her mind.
Somebody started spray painting. First the brick wall of the sacristy. Then the windows to the gym. Always outside, on the walls of Sacred Heart Holy Angels, in an embarrassing, public way. DEB SCOTT'S DEAD, it read, in a crazy, curzive script. DEB SCOTT'S DEAD, everywhere on the walls of Sacred Heart. Until Fritz, the walleyed janitor, painted over it with a roller and a can of weatherprood paint. "It took three coats," he said. Son of a fucking bitch. You know?" "Deb Scott isn't dead," Astrid said. "Never." Astrid worshipped at the altar of Deb Scott. Gave alms to Deb's memory. She tore her skirt as short as Deb Scott's, ratted her hair like Deb Scott's, ran fast, maybe faster, than Deb Scott, the baddest of all the bad girls. Astrid believed in her name. The Deb Scott she knew was flying cross-country on the back of a roaring blue Norton. Deb Scott of the black hair. Deb Scott of the blue smoky eyes. DEB SCOTT'S DEAD, the graffitied walls said.
i'm suppose to find something to memorize for my acting class and was thinking i'd do something from Whores on the Hill since its so fabulous and i re-read it. can anyone think of a part that would be partucularly easy or interesting to memorize and recite? i was thinking either "How To Be a Legend In Your Own Time: Involving Latrinalia" (or whatever it is) or . . . "My Good Arm" where Thisbe starts throwing stuff. anyways, i'm just brainstorming. thanks very much in advance.
Alright I figured I should introduce this community since its bound to be fabulous . . . once someone joins. ^_^ hahahahaha oh, I kill myself. Moving on. My sister is kind enough (not to mention more technologically intellectual than I can ever hope to be) and made some banners, which can be found on the info page.
(i like this one the best. its purdy.)
anyways, its my hope for everyone who joins this community to enjoy themselves and the book in discussion and what not and all that good stuff. so, yes. get on with it. and have fun. and please, spread the word.