It amuses me, that a good piece of writing will make me lust after the author more than their looks, intelligence, or any other factor.
I should have that as a warning/disclaimer sign, somewhere.
Write something beautiful and brutal, and I'm yours.
At least for the night, anyway.
Wednesday, July 22, 2009
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"O that your too, too solid flesh would melt, thaw, and resolve itself into a Sybian..."
ReplyDelete"There are more things in heaven and earth, V, than are dreamt of in your endless monologues..."
"O what a rogue and peasant Beta am I..."
"To boff or not to boff ... that is the question. Whether 'tis nobler to suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous priapism, or to take arms against a sea of twats, and by gaming, nail them. To lie, to fuck, and to blow the thousand natural loads that cocks are heir to. 'Tis a consummation devoutly to be wished. To dream, perchance to wank - ay, there's the rub."
The rest is silence.
And to thine own self be true.
If I had been drinking coffee when I read this this morning, sir, I would have spewed it all over my monitor.
ReplyDeleteI wasn't sure this fit afterward, as I did it late at night. You said brutal and beautiful, and I went for funny. But it *is* great writing, or at least a parody stab in imitation of great writing.
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