kyser_soze
Hawking's Angry Eyebrow
It is rather splendid, isn't it?
I think the jelly needs to be inside something inflatable.
You would think that I'd be able to find a suitable illustration for this, wouldn't you?
The results from google for 'jelly wrestling' are very dissapointing.
It is rather splendid, isn't it?
... I am writing anonymously here as I always have done, on a site where you have to register to read it,
Telling somebody to drop something doesn't work if you respond to them when they don't drop it. Basically, you're insisting that you want the last word on the subject.
Look, I think the only way to resolve this is for BK and cesare to fight it out.
In bikinis.
In a tub of raspberry jelly.


I don't want to get involved with your argument with Cesare... but are you aware that you don't have to register to read U75 (with the exception I think of the community and HRS forums)?
Anyone can read U75 without registering, and the contents of threads are subject to google searches.
Also, you know that your profile links to your blog which has details of your book and everything else on it?

On that basis, presumably you have no reason to object to my criticism? BK handed her critique of the man and his work over for comment - with total freedom on the part of the critic/s.
It's exactly like someone trying to recount the plot of a film in excruciating detail. Hence the leaden exposition and forgetting to mention stuff that is later important. And the extremely short length, because films can only ever capture about a third of the plot of a full length novel.Jesus H. shitting bum-fuck. That's got to be the most horrific opening paragraph I've ever read. It even surpasses Mein Kampf. The author is a man who obviously loves the sound of his own inner voice, and doesn't particularly care whether what the voice says makes any sense.![]()
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Jesus H. shitting bum-fuck. That's got to be the most horrific opening paragraph I've ever read. It even surpasses Mein Kampf. The author is a man who obviously loves the sound of his own inner voice, and doesn't particularly care whether what the voice says makes any sense.![]()
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Folks say that if you listen real close at the height of the full moon, when the wind is blowin' off Nantucket Sound from the nor' east and the dogs are howlin' for no earthly reason, you can hear the awful screams of the crew of the “Ellie May," a sturdy whaler Captained by John McTavish; for it was on just such a night when the rum was flowin' and, Davey Jones be damned, big John brought his men on deck for the first of several screaming contests.
The wind dry-shaved the cracked earth like a dull razor--the double edge kind from the plastic bag that you shouldn't use more than twice, but you do; but Trevor Earp had to face it as he started the second morning of his hopeless search for Drover, the Irish Wolfhound he had found as a pup near death from a fight with a prairie dog and nursed back to health, stolen by a traveling circus so that the monkey would have something to ride.
Jesus H. shitting bum-fuck. That's got to be the most horrific opening paragraph I've ever read.
no!? really!!I don't want to get involved with your argument with Cesare... but are you aware that you don't have to register to read U75 (with the exception I think of the community and HRS forums)?
Anyone can read U75 without registering, and the contents of threads are subject to google searches.
Also, you know that your profile links to your blog which has details of your book and everything else on it?

