Photo credit: amateur_photo_bore / Foter / CC BY-NC-ND
I could give you a number of reasons why there hasn’t been any posts in the last 2 weeks; my return to work after holidays that, after waiting a year for them, zoomed by me at the rate of three weeks per second; the fact I’ve taken on 3 online courses at once and am about to launch into another; that I’m in the middle of the beginning of a couple of stories at once, and so on. Although, I have to admit, the biggest reason is probably the fact that the gypsy fairies who live in my head and give me ideas are on their summer holidays. The little bastards are probably splashing around in cold, rubbish-choked seawater, wearing slightly too-short hurling shorts and Ireland tops with Bonner on the back and Opel on the front (that’s how they dress usually, but I don’t know why).
So, just to keep things moving around here, I thought I would put up some junk poetry that the fine people at PenisEnlargement.com sent to my junk email folder. The text following is almost word for word what I got in my email, I just played around with punctuation and meter. Enjoy.
Disclaimer: No penises were enlarged in the making of this poem
Matt placed Dylan into bed where,
does he held her cowboy.
Beth noticed Dylan on this,
smile as though Matt sighed.
Light from behind her onto his voice.
Please tell him inside out he knew.
Fiona gave an answer but his chair,
Homegrown dandelions by Judith Bronte.
Simmons and decided that said about Luke,
Beth would pay for several minutes later.
Ryan the corner, of course Beth.
Shaking his brother, Matt pushed her mouth.
Ethan started up the second master bedroom.
Really appreciate the other side.
Sleep and tugged on her mind.
The Blue Ridge Project: A Novel
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