Ramblings from the Desert

The man who trades freedom for security does not deserve nor will he ever receive either. ~Benjamin Franklin

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Location: New Mexico

Author of the urban fantasy novel, The Music of Chaos, and the paranormal romance, The Canvas Thief.

Friday, July 08, 2005

A Dark and Stormy Tryst

Some Friday silliness, generated via Smart Bitches Madlib

It was a dark and steamy night at Haflinger*-Colt Manor. Lord Haflinger-Colt's gaze hallucinated the slim body of the nubile young chit who stood before him. She whipped in trepidation.

'What is your name, little one?' he moaned.

'Rat Dog,' she squealed. Her limpid aqua eyes clung to his face like a persistent sponge, soft yet stinging.

As he gazed at her, a burning sensation shot from his groin to his kidney. It may have been hanta virus, but he doubted it. The finest cunts in the land had tried their wiles on him, but all had failed. He was far too cynical about women after seeing his mother betray his father time after time again, the jade. But this girl's innocence touched him in unexpected ways. His gaze dropped to her pouting ruby pinky.

'Well, Rat Dog,' he sneered, 'I believe you will get exactly what you were looking for!' With those words, his hands shot out and pulled her to him. She yelped in dismay, but her protest soon turned into sighs of pleasure as he ravaged her soft, unpracticed mouth. He ground his hard, aroused body against her hips. He heard her give a shocked gasp, and she pooped away from his grasp.

'My lord!' she exclaimed. 'Was that your manly... tomato I felt?' She blushed furiously. 'I'm afraid that was most improper of you!'

'Oh my dear,' he purred, 'Before the night is through, you will do a lot more than feel the potency of my man-Spam!'

'Caveat emptor,'** she cried, before he covered her mouth yet again and overwhelmed her qualms with a melting kiss.

**Because sweet virgin little thing is actually a trollop with a festering case of the clap.
*For any early readers out there who remember Bill from "The Novel"; he's a Haflinger.

Yew Ain't Never Read a Book and Yew Ain't No Friend of Mine...
Like this blogger, I'm hard pressed to think of any constant friend who isn't a reader. My sister-in-law, at her most annoying (and some of ya'll know how much she bugs me), is superior company to someone who doesn't read. When I was younger I might have tried to get to know a person who proudly professed that they didn't read. Nowadays, it's just not worth the effort.

For me, someone declaring, "Reading is boring," translates as "I'm a major asshat."

Listening To...
No playlist, very random radio station. Still can't make out the lyrics to Manfred Mann's "Blinded by the Light."

Blinded by the light
Wrapped up like a douche...?

And "Rock Lobster" by the B52s? Heard it for the first time, today. Sober. Previous interactions with this song happened during college years, drunk off ass in a Juarez discotech.

Damn Stupid Song.

Friday. Feeling uninspired, obviously.



Graphics and Content Copyright © Patricia Kirby 2005