Author Topic: My Novel  (Read 5780 times)

Offline Mince

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Re: My Novel
« Reply #15 on: January 23, 2008, 12:39:36 AM »
Twice, at an orgasmic crossroads, a tramp with a cramp

Now we're getting somewhere.

Offline Tarquin Thunderthighs lll

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Re: My Novel
« Reply #16 on: January 23, 2008, 12:42:39 AM »
If you say so.
I apologise, in advance.

Offline The Peepmaster

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Re: My Novel
« Reply #17 on: January 23, 2008, 09:59:55 AM »
Twice, at an orgasmic crossroads, a tramp with a cramp

Now we're getting somewhere.

Twice, at an orgasmic crossroads, a tramp with a cramp
A little tramp with clogs on,
Well, I declare,


Nostalgia is not what it used to be. 😟

Offline Mince

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Re: My Novel
« Reply #18 on: January 23, 2008, 11:09:08 AM »
I can't take my novel seriously now.

I will have to start again.

Dust hammered like lazy smoke at the hairs in his nostrils. Two fat splinters of light sprawled across the heavy mahogany of the room's only table, giving a smug glow to the blood-splashed winning poker hand lying upturned on a pile of crisp fifties in the centre.

Offline The Peepmaster

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Re: My Novel
« Reply #19 on: January 23, 2008, 12:23:57 PM »
I can't take my novel seriously now.

I will have to start again.

Dust hammered like lazy smoke at the hairs in his nostrils. Two fat splinters of light sprawled across the heavy mahogany of the room's only table, giving a smug glow to the blood-splashed winning poker hand lying upturned on a pile of crisp fifties in the centre.

What was the pile of crisps doing in the centre?
Nostalgia is not what it used to be. 😟

Offline Tarquin Thunderthighs lll

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  • They call me Tarqs... and other stuff.
Re: My Novel
« Reply #20 on: January 23, 2008, 12:42:27 PM »
Would that be "Red dust hammered..."?
I apologise, in advance.

Tom

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Re: My Novel
« Reply #21 on: January 23, 2008, 07:59:22 PM »
What was the pile of crisps doing in the centre?

They'd had all of the rest of the buffet and they were left.

Offline The Peepmaster

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Re: My Novel
« Reply #22 on: January 23, 2008, 09:39:43 PM »
What was the pile of crisps doing in the centre?

They'd had all of the rest of the buffet and they were left.

So, someone's made off with the buffet... This could be a defective detective novel.
Nostalgia is not what it used to be. 😟