Date: Mon, 30 Apr 2001 00:11:13 EDT
From: Blue4Clue4@aol.com
Subject: Instant Message: Part 1 (Boybands)

Disclaimer: The following piece of writing is that of pure fiction, and
should not be taken seriously. The characters inside the story do not
portray any real life celebrities or people, and if so are purely
coincidental. The characters mentioned in the story living, dead or
imaginary, should not, in the authors' intents, reflect upon anyone's
personalities. If you are not of legal age in your city, town, state,
province, country, world, universe, or any place of habitation, then you
should not be reading this story!

Author's Note: This story is a collaboration between two authors, Leo and
Scott, and we do use the first names of many celebrities, namely the band
members of the Backstreet Boys and N Sync. However we have changes last
name's, age's and ranks of ages within each group, etc etc etc. As to our
knowledge this is the first time on the Nifty Archives that this kind of
boy bands story has been tried, so bare with us. Also, after reading this
story, please email either or the both of us at....

(Leo) ComicGuy22@aol.com

(Scott) Blue4Clue4@aol.com

Oh and if you are wondering why I am using the Nifty Author, Stu's,
e-mail address is because I am his boyfriend, and he is the one mentioned
in this story.

******************************

Instant Message: Part 1

Beep, beep, beep! That damn alarm clock of mine has definitely got to go.
But then again so does the crap ass job of mine, working at Abercrombie
and Fitch. Have to be there from seven in the morning, on a Saturday
nonetheless, 'till two o'clock in the afternoon, the peak hours of
getting things crunk on the weekends. But nooooo, I have to drag my ass
out of bed at Six A.M., the ungodly hour when the sun is just peaking
it's nice little head over the horizon. Anyway, I slam my hand down on
the snooze button, before dozing off again. My rest, however, is once
again disturbed, but this time a little bit more pleasantly, as my
boyfriend, Stu, rolls over onto my back and kisses the back of my neck,
along with wrapping his strong arms around my waist, I love it when he
does that.

" Come on Justin, time to get up. Can't stay in bed all day long." he
says, before dozing off as well. The snooze alarm goes off, this time
actually waking me up, at six forty-five, and we both have to be at work
in fifteen minutes! I quickly sit up in bed, look next to me and shake
Stu awake.

" Shit Stu, we're gonna be late, get your ass up!" I yell at him, while
shaking his hundred and fifty-two pound body like crazy. He groans and
rolls over, facing away from me. Just so you all know, Stu also works at
A&F with me, but he's the manager of the store, so I don't think that it
would be all too good if he missed work, along with me, it'd seem really
weird and down right obvious how I got my job. " Come on, it's quarter to
seven already!"

" Alright, go get the shower going, I'll be in with you in a sec, ok?" he
says, slowly sitting up. I shake my head, before getting out of bed, with
absolutely nothing on, we had a little 'fun' last night if you know what
I mean, *wink wink*. The two headed shower of ours comes to life as I
turn the handles, adjusting to a nice and hot temperature. I cannot stand
water that's anything but hot, it's just not right. I start to lather up
as I hear Stu walking into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him,
and then hopping in the shower, yelling his usual complaint about the
water being too hot. That's probably one of his funniest routines, the
morning bitch ritual. Anyways, we're both in a rush, so I'm soaping all
over my smooth, semi muscular body, kinda like jogger built, all the
while Stu is washing my hair with this strawberry scented shampoo that
smells so good when mixed with piping hot water. I quickly get all that
out of my curly blond-brownish hair, then turn around so I can do my
boyfriend's, who gets a little grabby as I turn, hey I can't blame him,
it's not like I don't have a nice ass to grab.

" You know, it's not going to be so horrible if we're late. I'm the
manager, I'm the one who fires people." he says as some shampoo gets in
his eyes and he clamp them shut, making a hissing noise in pain.

" See what happens when you think like that." I say before finishing him
off and shutting the water off, hopping out and grabbing some fluffy
terrycloth towels. I toss one to Stu while drying off, looking at the
bathroom clock, that I can't see for shit through 'cause the steam from
the water fogged it up. So, I run back into the bedroom, towel barely on,
and look at the one of the night stand, 7:05, fuck! Over to the dresser,
where I pull open three drawers, throwing out my work shirt, a pair of
Boss blue jeans, some midnight blue boxer briefs, and some socks, before
sitting down on the bed, finally noticing that my towel had fallen off
me. Stu comes into the room, towel on his head, soft penis and large sack
dangling between his legs as he goes into the closet, pulling out all of
his clothes... dress pants, shirt, tie, and some Old Navy boxers, blue
flannel style. I bend down, fully clothed, to put my shoes on, as Kaos
runs and jumps right at my feet, licking my face. I cringe at that, not
that I hate it, it's just that I just got out of the shower, before
pulling him up on the bed. Kaos is our.... well originally Stu's, but our
seven month old black lab puppy, who's having a bit of a growing problem,
'cause he's still about the size of my foot... if not a bit larger. I get
my shoes on, pick Kaos up and take him outside, where he can run around
all day, 'cause the backyard is all fenced in, so he's not going
anywhere. Stu meets me out in the kitchen, where he grabs his keys, gives
me a kiss goodbye and gets in his Jeep, as I get in my Blazer and take
off for the mall.

While I speed through the highway, passing all these old people driving
twenty miles an hour, I think I'll tell you a bit about me. My name is
Justin, one of the six siblings of the Jameston family of Clearwater,
Tennessee. My brothers and sisters rank in age like this, Joshua who's
25, myself who's 20, Chris who's 17, Lance who's 15. Then there's my two
sister's, Brittany and Christina, who are 14 and 11 respectively. Quite
the clan, huh? My mother and father, who right now, at this point in my
life, I'm not all that happy with, but their names are Joseph and
Maryann, who, for some reason, everyone calls Mandy. Don't ask me how
that is, 'cause I don't know, and I don't like my parents to begin
with..... well maybe my mom, but certainly not my father, and I'll tell
you why. All my life, that's all that my dad did was either beat me or
yell at me. Seriously, he even did that to all my brothers, well, he was
a little light on Chris, the 'jock' of the family... well he tries to be,
but he absolutely sucks at any kind of game he plays. But none of this
tops the moment when I came out to them, hell my mom didn't say anything,
and my dad beat the shit out of me, then threw me, literally out of the
house. That was the last time I ever spoke to him... I did talk to my
mom, and still do, every other month that is. I was 17 when I came out to
them, and after that I lived with Josh for a year, before coming out here
to sunny Florida, the land that is infested with old people. I mean,
there's so many senior citizens here that the state flag should be
nothing but a steering wheel with two knuckles on it.

So I pull into the mall's parking lot, go into it, and get to the A&F
store where I work, before Stu does, hehe, I beat him, I beat the boss to
work! Behind the register, I check myself in the mirror I keep under the
counter, before opening up the cash register, as Stu walks in, his tie
completely off center, and shirt not even tucked in, hell at least I had
time to make myself look decent.

" Lucky you got here earlier than the boss did, Justin." I heard my jack
ass of a friend, Jeremey, say, before turning back to his counter. In all
seriousness, Jer is a good friend, he goes to the University of Miami
along with me, although he studies Architecture, not English Literature
like I do. I'm telling you, if I have to read one more of Shakespeare's
poems or plays, I'm going to scream. I mean, how many pieces of freakin'
writing can one man write? Oh look, there's our first couple of the day
to walk in together, a heterosexual one that is. You know, I'm glad that
I like getting piledrived in the ass, 'cause seriously, I cannot stand
women. Nothing can be simple for them, they can't do one thing at a time,
they have to do six! And don't even forget about that deadly four letter
word that they just love to see, SALE! If something's on sale, they'll
buy it, it doesn't matter what the hell it is. It could be a left handed
can opener, and she'd be right handed, yet she'll still buy it 'cause
it's on sale. A man will buy something for two dollars, that's worth one,
because he needs it. A woman will buy something that's worth two dollars,
for one dollar, that she doesn't need, only 'cause it's on sale. That's
one of the reasons why I have no time for the women in this world.

" Your total comes to one hundred fifty-seven dollars and thirty six
cents." I say to the guy, as he opens his wallet, and hands me eight,
twenties. I give him his change, and his girlfriend's clothes, three
large bags, to him, and they head for the exit. " Whipped man walking!" I
yell, as they walk out of the store and the guy gives me the finger.

" Justin, what have I told you about that? Stop harassing the customers."
Stu says from the doorway of his office, a grin on his face.

" Sorry sir, but they already bought their stuff. It's not like they
could give me it back and ask for their money." he just shakes his head
and goes back in, sitting down behind his desk, and going back to working
on his computer. So a couple of hours later, looking at my watch, seeing
that it's 1:57, and that the guy on the next shift has walked in, I close
the register, and walk into Stu's office, giving him a kiss and saying
that I'll see him tonight.

" You gonna make dinner? Or is it pizza night for us?" I just shrug my
shoulders before kissing him again, then leaving. As I go home, why not I
tell you more about me. I'm about 5'7", 137 pounds, yeah I know I'm
small, but I bet I could kick some of your asses! I like rock and pop
music, detest rap and country. Favorite TV shows are "Seinfeld", "The
Drew Carey Show", and "Whose Line is it Anyway". I've got green eyes,
dirty blonde curly hair, that changed to platinum blonde on Stu and my
recent trip to California, where I also got my navel pierced. One of the
things that I love to do the most, next to singing, where I swear to god
that I'm good, but for some reason Stu, and all of my friends think
differently, is talk to people online. I hate to admit it, but I am an
Internet junkie, can't get enough of it. Now I did say junkie, I didn't
say nerd, ok? I have my normal circle of friends online, but I really
enjoy talking to my online buddy, Brian, and his brothers. So, as normal,
I get home, let Kaos inside, and turn my computer on.

*************************************

Clumsily I roll over feeling my sweaty skin scrape over the sheets. I
shake awake by the restless nights that plague my tired body. I rub my
eyes slowly and quickly they adjust to the black of the room that
surrounds me.

"Brian..you okay?" I hear a familiar and concerned voice whisper from the
slightly ajar door. "I heard some rustling and I thought I'd check on
you.."

"Yeah Kev, I'm fine, it was just a weird dream." I stutter back. He
relented back into the hall and I redirect my gaze to the starry, moonlit
night.

The truth is, my night sweats are back. The restlessness and
listlessness..it's all back. The insomnia and the shortness of breath.
And everything that sucked away my life before and the fear that would
keep me from confronting it...

I shuffle into the bathroom and splash my face with cold water and seal
the dripping tap. My eyes meet my own in the cold bathroom mirror, and I
look away too ashamed to face the truth and to look myself in the eye. I
open the medicine cabinet and am greeted by the clear brown bottles I am
all too familiar with. I quickly down two pills and this sends me into
the all too real conclusion--it's back and I have to face it.

I awake next feeling slightly refreshed and renewed, but the thoughts of
my disease still lurk in the cool night. But today, well tonight, it's
the big show. I'm a musician. Music is my passion, my love, the driving
force that propels me through life, and tonight, I would share that
passion with the world, or those who show up at the coffee house.

I open the refrigerator and catch a glimpse of a small, pale yellow
post-it note equipped with the one phone number I was slowly trying to
forget, or at least those attached to it. I avert my gaze and the
thoughts of 'OJ or Milk' crash into my thoughts.

"G-O-O-D M-O-R-N-I-N-G!!!!!!!!!!" shouted, well screeched AJ, he's just
to damn chipper all the damn time. He repositions himself and his chin
comes to rest on my shoulder. "So the ever present beverage decision,
just make up your damn mind and get yo ass out the way!"

I am in such a mood, that his annoy tactics seem quite funny. I am in a
place that I longed for somewhere immersed in the relief that only pure
expression can cause. My music has always acted as a buffer to whatever
is out of my control and then opens it up for more than a single mind,
and maybe another will share my thoughts, my reason for reason. It's been
a long time since I have found someone who understands me, and who lives
a life like mine. The last time I had something that wonderful was almost
two years ago, and these past two years have been spent trying to live
each day without breaking down.

My exceptionally wonderful boyfriend Paul, he's more than wonderful, he's
everything I have, and he has practically carried me through these past
two years. If it wasn't for him, and my brothers, there is a good chance,
that I wouldn't be alive. I have been dating him for almost two years,
and I love him with every inch of my soul. I give him everything I have,
every day, because his love is by far, one of the most important things
in my life. I have never met anyone who fulfills everything I could ever
ask for in a lover, a soul-mate, a friend and confidant, he's my
everything. We share so much through each day, and each day brings
something new to our relationship. We both gave each other our love, our
hearts, and our virginity--something I say as a token of pure, and only
true, L-O-V-E. Because to me, and to Paul also, sex is a beautiful and
important aspect of relationship, and it's not something to do with
anyone. As of late, however, we're kind of on rocky ground, because of
some recent events which I may elaborate at a later date.

I manage to make my way back into the serene bliss of my room, my
solitude, as to perfect whatever songs I was going to perform..Oh shit! I
never picked out the songs!! I've always been a perfectionist, well at
least when it comes to the acoustic wonder than escapes my being and
floods the air with the noise I call the music to my ears. (I know cheap
plug)

I scramble through my notebook--well, makeshift notebook--(a collection
of poems, songs, tabs, riffs, drawings, words, pictures, catch phrases,
and the memories that have made me who I am proud to be today.) I pick
out the two songs that mustered the most feeling and emotion from me and
would take an equal part of courage to perform. Only thing is, that these
songs could either make or break the night. See, I could choke and
completely fuck them up, which would butcher them any way you slice it,
but I could pour all of the pent emotion that burned so deep inside me
and belt these songs and play my guitar and just wow them...and then I
decide that I know exactly what I have to do. I have to prove myself to
my audience like I prove myself to everyone everyday of my life. But the
pride that I discussed earlier wasn't always so bold, in fact, I've never
been in a better place in my life than I am today.

So, I suppose I'll just begin at the beginning, as to confuse you
less..or maybe more. My name is Brian, I'm 17 years old and I'm about
5'7" with blondish brownish hair, although currently it's RED!! Yes RED!!
My boyfriend, Paul, and I went out and dyed our hair. His is bleached
blond and he has blue tips. (It would make you melt...) I have six
brothers and they are all my best friends. We were raised in a two
bedroom little house (not on the prairie) and being in very close
quarters you would think that we would be at each other's throats, but
really, it brought us closer together because we were each other's
support systems and still are to this day. My two older brothers, Kevin,
21, and AJ, 18, raised me. Our parents just left them to deal with both
me and my twin brother, Nick, also 17. Then Howie's 13 and then two
younger ones, Jake is 6 and Dan is about 6 weeks. In the house where we
grew up, in our bedroom there were two sets of triple bunks, and recently
a crib was added for Danny.

I don't get along with my parents at all, and we hardly speak, especially
my father and I. Growing up, my father was both, physically and verbally
abusive to all of us, and we all feared him and his strong hand. My mom
is very subservient to my father as far as, not stepping in even as he
made us bleed, gave us scars, and broke bones. It's like she still lived
in the fifties or something and never thought to open her mouth, not
once. I think we all resent her a little bit for this, but we can't
completely blame my fathers's actions on her, in fact, we can't really do
it all.

I came out to my parents when I was fifteen years old, and it was the
most proud and sorry day of my life, all rolled into one. I had known
that I was gay for about a year and that point, and was comfortable with
it. I also had told all of my brothers, except the younger two (as Danny
wasn't born yet) and they were completely supportive and were there for
me just as they had always been. It was a breath of fresh air, because I
think I feared their reactions a lot more than either of my parents'. I
actually believe AJ's exact words were.."ok, so you want a cookie or
something?" It made me laugh, and it acted to break the tension in the
room. When I finally did tell my parents they reacted as I somehow knew
that they would. My mom was silent and wouldn't even look at me, but my
father had plenty to say. He called me every name in the book, and a few
I think he just plain made up. He then beat the living shit out of me (
still have two scars, one on the back of my neck, and one on my left
forearm), and booted me out of the house. I walked across town to where
my brother Kevin was living at the time, and have been living there ever
since. AJ has since moved in with us, and we've become incredibly close
during this time.

Anyway, I spend my days working very hard giving my all to any situation
in my life. I give my all in every aspect of each day, because I believe
that for some reason the cards are against me, at least right now, so I
have to work twice as hard as the next guy to get myself out in the mix
and heard. This may seem very pessimistic, but to me, it's just life. In
school I pull decent grades because I can't really afford college and I'm
banking (and praying) that I land some kind of scholarship. I also work
at a guitar shop were I fix 'em, sell 'em, stock 'em, clean em', and I
teach lessons. The rest of my time is spent, eating, sleeping, hanging
out, doing homework or chillin' with my good friend Dr. Burns, my
oncologist.

I have also found, that recently, the Internet has interested me more and
more. I'm kind of technology-phobic, if you will, and I've been trying to
learn more about it, because that's the way the world's headed. I keep in
touch with all of my distant cousins and some of the other relatives that
will actually speak to their gay (ahh!! The damned taboo word) family
member. I also have met some great friends, including someone who is
always there for me, even if it is 3:00 in the morning and he has classes
the next day. His name is Justin, and no matter what he says..he helps me
more than he will ever know.

I sit slowly down on my bed and remove the acoustic guitar from its
safekeeping underneath my bed. I squint my eyes at the paper with the
lyrics and tabs and start to site read the songs that I haven't played or
ever looked at since I wrote them.

"I'm out of control, I just need to get off this, Because it isn't worth
it today, I pray, It won't be worth it tomorrow, Cut me open, see what
you see, run from me, you'll find my disease, Let me bleed, drip between
your fingertips, Why won't it go away? Take my life, have it, I'll be
much happier once I'm gone, Watch my insides boil in the radiation,
steadily simmer, Learn about whatever the hell, But please, move on I'm
on my way, It's all poisoned and dirty, broken, destroyed me, I'm not
hollow, inside out, This is me and my disease, I've turned my back on me,
Laugh off your guilt, I promised I never would, And I'm so afraid that
tomorrow will come, To take me away from today."

I sat back as the final chord faded into the air, and then decided that
this song would be done as intended, with an electric guitar, amp turned
up high, and all of this pent up aggression could finally escape my
aching body. I again turn towards the notebook and flip through the pages
determined to release the one poem I had hoped to never read again.
However, it's become suddenly important for me to get all this off my
chest, after all these years, it's time, I know it's time.

"Eye for an eye, Breath for a breath, What if he forgets to breathe?
Stained hands imprint me, He cries tears of blood, Muttering a sweetness,
Muffled restraints, the hollow, the undeniable emptiness, the unforgotten
time, the day his soul melded with mine, The day his lips squeezed his
final goodbye, And the tears well and the tears fell, As the ice slices
through him, And finite time holds precedence, Mortality in control now,
As his eyes glaze over and close, Steel doors slam shut on me, Cutting
into my heart, Slicing me into pieces, Runover, and crash into the
pavement, And only he can lift them, and fix them, and rebuild me, Eye
for an eye, Breath for a breath, did he deserve death?"

I wipe the expected tears from my eyes and moist cheeks. And then, I
breath a sigh of relief because the emotion has escaped me, and it can
only be easier the next time. I find my left leg trembling beneath me,
and I know that that next time is going to be coming far too soon. I
beeline for the bathroom and wash off my face, and again catch a glimmer
of the reflection as I walk out onto the cold wood. My bare feet guide me
towards the computer where I begin to boot it up. I relax in the chair
and lean back. As windows appears on the monitor screen, from the black,
I direct the mouse towards the Internet and double click. I then look at
the clock and it says quarter to three. As I am singing online, I
silently hope that Justin is doing the same.

"Welcome......You've Got Mail!" That man, is so damn cheerful 24 fucking
hours a day....but then again, it's not a real man, because if it was,
that job would suck....

I glance at my buddy list to find that Justin indeed was online, so I
quickly double-click his name..ComicGuy22...and up pops the IM Box.

Blue4Clue4: Hey hey!! Curly..what's UP??

ComicGuy22: hey hey Bri... hey, you stole my greeting

Blue4Clue4: that was most of the point

ComicGuy22: well... I kinda stole it from Krusty the Clown, so I think
it's ok

ComicGuy22: lol

Blue4Clue4: so whatcha doing?

Blue4Clue4: i meant doing

ComicGuy22: lol, oh I'm not dong nuttin, just got back from work like ten
minutes ago

Blue4Clue4: ah..the perils of A and F

ComicGuy22: yeah.. I swear the number of pimple faced teenagers who crawl
into that store grows each day

Blue4Clue4: so..any SALES i should be aware of?..cause you know how much
i love that store...

ComicGuy22: yeah right, you wouldn't use our clothes to wipe your ass
with, let alone wear

ComicGuy22: lol, :op

Blue4Clue4: that me some mighty expensive toilet paper..lol

ComicGuy22: yup yup

ComicGuy22: better than triple ply toilet paper

ComicGuy22: and comes in a variety of colors and patterns! hehe, lol

Blue4Clue4: for 50,000 a square fucking inch..it better be

ComicGuy22: speaking of fucking... how've you and Paul been these days

ComicGuy22: lol

Blue4Clue4: one track mind...i swear

ComicGuy22: yup

Blue4Clue4: well..as far as fucking's concerned..we're not

ComicGuy22: thats a shame

ComicGuy22: :-P

Blue4Clue4: as far as working through our "issues" it's getting
better..getting better all the time (and yes to the tune of the Philips
commercial)

ComicGuy22: that's one commercial I don't need to see

ComicGuy22: lol

ComicGuy22: j/k

Blue4Clue4: DIRTY!!

Blue4Clue4: ok i got a good joke for you

ComicGuy22: whats that?

Blue4Clue4: where do you find a dog with no legs?

ComicGuy22: umm not sure

Blue4Clue4: right where you left it

ComicGuy22: lol

ComicGuy22: thats about as good as AJ's four gay guys walk into a bar
joke

Blue4Clue4: yeah..that's pretty dirty

ComicGuy22: yet funny

ComicGuy22: lol

Blue4Clue4: yeah..he's got a pretty sick mind

ComicGuy22: tell me about it, lol, but anywho I get a kick out of him

ComicGuy22: him and his Larger Penis Theory

Blue4Clue4: no no..the Endowments of The Gay and Flaming theory

ComicGuy22: oh my bad

Blue4Clue4: that's right..lol

ComicGuy22: I didn't know I couldn't call it other than it's technical
name, lol

Blue4Clue4: I suppose that's true....

Blue4Clue4: so did Nick send you those pictures?

ComicGuy22: yeah, lol, was looking for dirt on AJ... guess I got more
than I bargained for

Blue4Clue4: so you've seen the full (or not so full) monty

Blue4Clue4: well..that's what he gets for being straight

ComicGuy22: to say the least

ComicGuy22: hehe

Blue4Clue4: so whatcha doing tonight?

ComicGuy22: nothing, just relaxing after Stu's and my round of nookie in
the hot tub, that thing works wonders I tell you

ComicGuy22: has three nice settings of low, medium and who needs a man

Blue4Clue4: LOL.

Blue4Clue4: I need to get some..but tonight, I have a show.i'm so nervous

ComicGuy22: yeah I think AJ told me something about that, where are you
playing again?

Blue4Clue4: this little coffee house a couple miles away

ComicGuy22: sweet... I like singing a lot... though I get booed off the
stage at karioke night at this one club Stu and I go to every now and
then

Blue4Clue4: yeah..i here from Jer that you have this complex about your
singing

Blue4Clue4: so i'm not going to say a word

ComicGuy22: hey I'm a damn good singer, it's not my fault that they don't
like the style I sing

Blue4Clue4: if you say so

ComicGuy22: I do!

Blue4Clue4: jeez...don't get your balls in a bunch

ComicGuy22: dude Chris had that happen to him once, don't even joke about
that

ComicGuy22: lol

Blue4Clue4: do tell do tell

ComicGuy22: there's not much to tell, I mean, one day during basket ball
practice, he didn't wear his jock like the coach said for him to do, and
doesn't he do something so dumb as to try and slam dunk, next thing you
know he's on the ground bawling his eyes out 'cause in fact he did get a
minor case of twisted testicles

Blue4Clue4: ow!! damn..what dumb ass

ComicGuy22: lol, tack that to the list of bonehead moves he has pulled

ComicGuy22: lol

Blue4Clue4: yeah really

Blue4Clue4: Justin, man I gotta run, I'm going to go pick up Paul and
then Jarred to come to the show tonight..I'll catch ya later man

ComicGuy22: yeah Bri, I've got to go to, and take Kaos to the vets... he
needs his shots, though he doesn't like them

ComicGuy22: cya

Blue4Clue4: oh..pet the puppy for me!

Blue4Clue4: good luck with that

ComicGuy22: yeah really, bye

Blue4Clue4: bye

************************

Leo and Scott's Final Thought:

Well, hope you enjoyed the first installment of Instant Message. There's
more to come, and as always, please, FEEDBACK is so good. Email us at
ComicGuy22@aol.com or Blue4Clue4@aol.com, and we'll try to respond to all
of them. Thanks for reading and ya'll come back now..ya hear??