Backseat of a Cab
  • Backseat of a Cab
  • The Henry Clay People
  • Twenty-Five For The Rest Of Our Lives

Give it up, and come on out. That stupid dreaming is over. In the backseat of a cab, you lost everything you ever had. And you had to call a number to get it back. Strangers always interested you most. What you could, you did to bring them close. And when you fumbled for your keys at the bottom of a bag, you grabbed a hold of something you couldn’t have.


The Henry Clay People - Backseat of a Cab (live) (by nesslurpee)

If you’re a fan of Japandroids and Deer Tick, you will certainly enjoy The Henry Clay People. Here is a live performance of a track from their just released album “Twenty-Five For The Rest Of Our Lives.”


so one time while i was at Ohayocon i went drinking with a few of my friends, and afterwards i had to get myself a cab back to my hotel. mind you, i’m a lightweight, so after 2 (very yummy) sour apple martinis i was slam damn drunk, so i was kinda nervous doing this sort of thing all by myself in the state that i was, but there really was no other option for me at the time.

so i called up and got myself a cool orange cab (with free wifi service!), plopped my drunk ass into the backseat, and happily greeted my cab driver.

it is to be noted that i was cosplaying nepeta at the time - a very VERY drunk nepeta. my cosplay of course caught the attention of the cab driver, and sparked a friendly conversation where i explained that i drove down from lansing to go to this convention and dress up as my favorite character from this online webcomic (i was too drunk to even begin explaining to him what homestuck was)

now i might’ve been intoxicated, but i’m still pretty sharp at noticing things, especially when he started taking unnecessary turns that was basically making the trip back to the hotel purposefully longer, racking up the payment for the ride. i wasn’t too concerned with it, since i was pretty well off with cash, but it was still really shady.

we finally make it to the hotel, and the ride ends up being something like $8 ($3 more than the trip to the con center was). even tho the driver had obviously jipped me, i decided to tip him at least a dollar. i take out a $20 and hand it over to him, and i told him, “i’d like $11 back, please”

this piece of shit fucker hands be a $1 and says “ok here you go thank you goodnight!”

i started flapping that dollar in the air going “ohhhh nononono i need $10 more sir you only handed me a one” and the asshole laughed and said “i’m sorry i must’ve misheard you!” and handed me a $10

TL;DR i will not be taking another cab home by myself again lol

nobodymendes said:

Hey its me again haha I would like a jealous sebastian blurb please 😍

literally writing this for you rn omfg i’m so sorry to keep you waiting asjafb

you’d be at the club with jacob and sebastian and you’d ask sebastian if he wanted to dance and whenever he would decline your offer, jacob would step up and take his place and omf you’d be grinding on jacob and purposely put yourself all over him because sebastion refused to dance with you and asfhgkj he’d pull jacob by the forearm and push him away and he’d take his place behind you and he’d murmur “that was some stunt you pulled, huh babe?” into your ear and you’d gulp and tHEN HE’D PULL YOU OUT OF THE CLUB AND HAIL A TAXI AND TEASE YOU IN THE BACKSEAT OF THE CAB UNTIL YOU GET HOME asdkjf bye

( nobodymendes ) x

In the same breath, never leave Constantine alone in your car. All your pre-sets will be changed to classic rock stations and something will be broken in the car. You don’t know what. But, you will feel like John broke something and hid it. This is why Chas makes John sit in the backseat of the cab.

So a 26-year-old was attacked by her cab driver last weekend and, upon reporting it to the police, learned that her complaint was one of many. Disturbing. But, even if the cops failed to share this information with the women of Montreal, surely they have some great tips to keep this from happening again.

Montreal police spokesperson Laurent Gingras, confirmed there are a few open investigations of this kind.  He would not provide a number but said most victims were young woman, leaving downtown late at night, who had been drinking.

Gingras says people should always order a cab, never hail one off the street.  He says sit in the backseat, take a picture of the cab drivers information and text it to a friend.

He also says people should not take a cab alone if intoxicated.

If that isn’t a ‘Get Out of a DUI Free’ card, we don’t know what is.


He raised a bemused eyebrow, flagging down a taxi before responding to Xephos’ question. “Hm, that’s a tricky one.” He said, sliding into the backseat of the cab and ordering the driver to take them to the bar. “I’d personally use maybe like a grappling hook or somethin’ like that, but if not, I might have a buddy of mine sneak in and toss a rope down for me.”

Lalna sighed, closing his eyes contently and relaxing against the passenger window with a smile. “Another case of yours, or were you just trying to get me to confess something?”

Xephos clambered in after him, arranging his too-long body into the cab and considered for a moment. A buddy… Right. “You’d use a friend, someone on the inside…” He mumbled, pursing his lips and gave a little bobbing nod before Lalna’s words actually registered in his ear.

He smacked Lalna’s arm with the papers. “They’re not cases! I’m just helping a young friend out. She had her jewlry stolen and asked me… To look into it. She heard about the incident with Parv and thought my skills might- nevermind!” He flapped his hands at Lalna. “Not cases. And if you were stealing jewelry I have a sneaking suspicion you’d probably have gloated to me by now. Especially if you had used a grappling hook to do it.”

The Still Beast


I look out the window from the backseat of the taxi-cab.  It smells like old leather and a potpourri of human scent.  (Perhaps potpourri isn’t the word.  Maybe “jambalaya” or “hodgepodge” would be better suited to that particular musk.)   I wonder if the the bus driver in the lane next to me still gets the same drop in his stomach when he sees the skyline as we ascend over the Williamsburg bridge into Manhattan.  If so is it enough to keep him driving that bus day after day?  And I think ‘that is his life’.

As Zack put it… At any given time, when you look into the city from across the East river, there are thousands of different scenes playing out.  It’s true.  A placid view yes.  But a still beast rumbles with life.  All these different lives, stories and moments.  As I write this from the back of the taxi I see an older Chinese woman in a raincoat picking plastic out of a garbage can on the corner of Bowery and Delancey.  She doesn’t seem to mind the rain.  One scene.   We make our way around some midday hustle and bustle and drive past the venue we played last night.. The Bowery Electric.

Given, I am pretty stoked right now but I could say without hyperbole that it was our most well received show we have ever had in the Big Apple.  It was wild.  People danced like crazy and waved our metallic Mylar around themselves in a frenzy.  I watched little dreams of mine materialize in front of me.

For the most part this tour has been about a road trip with friends and sharing times with new people.  In most cases the shows simply justified the means of getting to those places and sharing those experiences.  But last night it was, pardon the cheese, about the music bro.

And for a few reasons it really had to be.  Our manager Graham flew from La to have meetings and see the show.  Our friend/connector extraordinaire James also came to New York and brought multiple people to the show that are, well the kind of people that make you nervous if you know they are coming to your show.  We were also playing for Ben Lovett’s birthday party.  He is in a band called Mumford and Sons.  Well apparently he thinks we are ok and wanted us to headline his birthday party.  Luckily he is one of the nicest guys ever.  The show was kind of a blur but I just remember things feeling and sounding right.  I didn’t feel like I was trying to convince the NYC crowd that it was ok to let loose.  Instead they were pushing me to keep taking it further…  That can be rare with an unfamiliar NYC audience and I am filled with gratitude for it.

A polish guy came up to me after the show, hugged me and in a thick accent said “I’ve lived in this city 18 years and that was one of best shows I’ve ever seen here.  Keep doing what you’re doing and don’t try to make make the money.  Don’t sell out.  Don’t make money.”  I looked at him a little apprehensively and he smiled and said “well ok make a little money.”

Our manager said afterwords.  “Well if you aren’t happy after that we may as well quit.”  He is a very dry British man so that is equivalent to him jumping up and down and yelping with glee.

Now I sit in a taxi on the way to a meeting; last night still loud in my brain.  The sun is no where to be found and the first day of October is a few degrees cooler than yesterday

.  Clouds hang low enough to smother the top of the Empire State Building.  The other skyscrapers spread their broad shoulders.  They are ghoulish caricatures looming over the busy bodies that buzz this way and that.  A grey drizzle weaves it’s way in and around the avenues and holds the city in a suspended gloom.  Last night my tiny little indie band had one of its brightest shining moments right here in this beast.  And today, no one, in all this ever-churning madness could give a shit.  Isn’t it wonderful?  Indeed.  It’s a perfect day in New York City.


From across the River.


From our Brooklyn show


Amidst our little sea of mylar.



It was sunny before October came.



Can you ever have too many skyline pictures?


My logic: Wear cute matching underwear at all times because you never know, you might run into a wealthy British model at the supermarket who accidentally bumps into you and spills your spiced cider on you so they take you out to lunch as an apology and then one thing leads to another and soon enough you’re going out to fancy night clubs, making out in the backseat of a cab and hooking up in a nice hotel with classy bed sheets and room service and you do NOT want to be caught there wearing lame underwear, okay?

Trenchcoat Treat {Priya + Emmett}

As Priya clasped her fingertips to the sides of her black knee-length coat in the backseat of the cab, shielding herself from the lingering glances of the driver, she began to wonder if this was a bad idea. Agreeing to spend the weekend with Emmett with the clear intention of getting intimate was one thing, but going across town with nothing but her unmentionables and a trenchcoat was something out of the ordinary for the fashion-conscious masseuse. It seemed like a great idea as she was getting ready. Sexy, adventurous, something Emmett would never forget. But as the cab rode along to the middle neighborhood, Priya squirmed uncomfortably, having that little seed of doubt grow in the back of her mind. What if it was too over the top? What if she’d misunderstood his intentions somehow? Before she could pipe up to tell the driver to turn around so she could quickly throw some actual clothes on, he’d parked outside of Emmett Lewis’ house and was waiting for his fare. Taking a deep breath once she’d settled her bill, Priya carefully slid out of the backseat and adjusted her trenchcoat tails. She flipped her hair over her shoulder and lifted her head high, pacing toward Emmett’s place with the most confident look she could manage. He would love this, she promised herself. Without giving herself another moment to re-consider, Priya pushed the doorbell. Resting her fingertips on the belt of her coat, she waited impatiently for Emmett to answer.    

*i gasp quietly against your lips as my tongue slips past your lips, swinging my other leg over your waist so I’m straddling you* -Helena

*I smirk between your lips and push your body against mine, grinding up to you slightly* Are we gonna have some fun to Iron Man, babe? -Michael
*i smile as I wave down a cab* Let’s go to my place, that way when we go see Zayn tomorrow it’ll be easier. -Harry

Okay. *My smile widens a little, holding your hand as we get into the backseat of the cab, and you tell the driver your address* -Mathilde