Assertive kernels of kandy korn tasted the fruits of their labor and swallowed the story hook, line, and sinker.
Ginger helped Eve give Jodie a transparent ruse along the Danube in a flat-bottomed boat that makes the waltzing world go wow! Princesses lined the banks to watch the procession of fools filter an equivalence of a hundred years worth of anxiety through Ginger’s strainer of compunction. Jodie said but the spine of my book has the soul of a thirty-year old joke, stale this past quarter-century. Sir told Eve to be brave and cast the last chord of defiance in the key of D-minor, obliged to flatter the licentious censure, tonsured the same quarter-century as the stale joke and flailed ale.
Proper peaches passed, chided, across Jodie’s bow, enduring Ginger’s longing looks at George’s poverty of opinions, wounds of pity, and kandy korns of scoffing.
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Man, this is like Halloween all over again
It’s a trick of a treat.
I like your work.
Thank you!
I have not laughed this hard since dresden. 😅
A slaughterhouse will do that to anyone!