In the sun-drenched, smoke-filled atmosphere,
there's a dominant aura of sin.
There's a time and a place, but there's no excuse,
to get to the state that I'm in.
Why do I get the impression by reading your posts that by the end of every night's posting, you're to be found collapsed in a broken heap on the floor, bend double, with a bottle of vodka hanging out the side of your mouth like you're trying to blow the ship back into it?
In the sun-drenched smoke filled atmosphere, there is a dominant aura of sin. The prostitute's clothes smell of fumes as the economist pulls up in his highly polished Bentley.
"Want any business?" she asks, leaning into the cool air-conditioned car's window.
"Baby, I'm a business man. Get in!"
He pulls her over to him so that she is inches away from his face and whispers, "Can you tell me what I could follow this line with: 'In the sun-drenched smoke filled atmosphere, there is a dominant aura of sin'?"
She tilts her head back, cackles, and slowly starts to narrate:
"In the sun-drenched smoke filled atmosphere, there is a dominant aura of sin. The prostitute's clothes smell of fumes as the economist pulls up in his highly polished Bentley....."
In the sun-drenched smoke filled atmosphere, there is a dominant aura of sin... cant finish this, but it would lead to something nice I think. Have never had a word blockage this bad before. Would reading the likes of 'Wind in the Willows' help maybe, in the same way that listening to Mozart sharpens the mind a bit? who knows...
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