Interview with Vanessa de Largie
Vanessa de Largie talks feminism, fellatio, and freedom of speech in this EXCLUSIVE interview with Horror Sleaze Trash.
Read the full interview HERE!
Here's fool. This is about 75% into"Family Practice." Too much went prior to make this segment coherent. However, it is an action scene and therefore probably as interesting as the last zombie sex freak movie anyone saw. Wish I was doing pictures when I did this.
Flustered, Connie tried to be playful, but Benito pushed her away. She hoped that this might be the start of a new game and tried again. But Benito again pushed her aside and said; “Take your stupid fucking pictures and get out of here. Don’t come back without what I want. Then, maybe I’ll allow you something.... Maybe.”
She had been treated roughly in the past and generally liked it, but previously she was always rewarded. This was a new strange feeling that she didn’t like, so she took the photos and left. The soaking she received getting to the car didn’t cool her off.
Mark took the pictures from Vicky and put them in one of his desk drawers. He dejectedly said; “See ’ya. I’m going home.” When he got into the hallway, he saw two burly men in soaked, dark, pinstriped suits walking quickly his way and before he could think, one grabbed his arm, spinning him around and the other punched him in the stomach. The wind knocked out of him, Mark fell to his knees, but they picked him up and frisked him, slamming him into the wall.
He got another shot in the belly and slumped down, thinking that these guys looked a bit like the duo he met at the warehouse entrance on Hook Harbor Road. They pulled him to his feet by the arms. One took out a knife and held it to Mark’s throat, saying; “This is a friendly message from Callie. If you keep following him, the next message will be delivered by the bad guys.”
They let him go, turned to leave and one turned back to give him another one in the gut. Mark fell to the ground again. His assailant pointed at him and said; “Don’t think we’re fucking around. You’re getting close to stuff that’s way over your head.” Mark sat there, not yet ready to move and remembered Connie’s comment about “statutory.” For the first, time he considered that he might be totally in the dark. If Connie was concerned with statutory rape, why didn’t she go to the cops? She must have meant “statutory” as a short hand way of merely describing the situation. And given her and her family’s lifestyle, why did she have a problem with Candy’s desires? Maybe Connie considered it too early to be playing with a fossil. But it’s 1972 and anything goes. And what kind of “way over my head” stuff is the thug talking about? Sonny and the Feds had warned him about Hook Harbor Road. But, no one said anything about the Thunderbird. He wanted to continue as he was making good money for the first time in his life. He knew he was missing something important.
When he felt better he dashed through the rain and drove back home, dripping wet. Allison greeted him at the door, saying; “I’m glad you’re back. I’m really feeling strange today.” She let the bathrobe slip from her shoulders, took him by the hand and said; “Come on, baby. Make me feel better.”
She sat on the couch, the only sound in the apartment the driving precipitation drenching the windowsill. He forgot about his bellyache.
When Connie got back home the first thing she did was put the photos in the family room chest of drawers where she kept Mark’s business cards. Warren entered the room wearing a robe and kissed her neck. He said; “Everything go okay?”
“No, but I don’t want to think about it.”
“You’re not in any trouble, are you?”
“No. I just may have lost an admirer.”
He slightly laughed and said; “Well, you’ll always have me.”
She gently kissed his lips and continued with increasing fervor. She said; “I love you so much.”
“I love you, too.”
“I’m also hot as hell.”
She sat down and he went down until the rain stopped. She got up, took his hand and put him in the chair. In a few minutes the precipitation again struck the open window. He stroked her hair tenderly and again said; “I love you.”
After five languid minutes, Connie got up and said; “I think I’m going to sleep the day away. I’ve been through a lot and I’m really tired.”
He said; “I’ll rest, too.... on my favorite pillow.”
She rubbed his cheek, saying; “Thanks, honey, but not now. I really need some sleep.” They kissed and she went upstairs to bed. Warren was wide awake, dressed and decided to use the idle time to check on Mark’s progress. He drove Connie’s Camaro to Journal Square. When he entered the vestibule of Mark’s office, he saw Vicky with her voluptuous black legs up on her desk, reflecting on the pictures she had taken out of Mark’s drawer of Connie’s exploits.
She was startled and embarrassed and quickly put her feet on the floor, knocking Connie’s photos all over. Warren bent down and picked up some of the pictures and was immediately elated.
As Vicky straightened her dress, Warren said; “Don’t be embarrassed. I do it all the time. Are there any more of these photos?”
“No, they’re all here.”
“Great. That’s what I came for.” He continued picking them up off the floor. Vicky picked up the phone and said; “I’ll get Mark.”
“Don’t bother him. This is what I came for. This is good stuff. Tell him to keep getting more; I’ll be glad to pay.”
“This IS good stuff. Mark hasn’t been paying attention to me lately and I’m lonely; you know what I’m saying.”
Warren used his advantageous position to get a different view of her rainy Afro. He kissed her and when she didn’t move, he got up and locked the outside door.
She continually moved around on the chair. She said; “You white guys are crazy freaks. But, I love it.”
After an hour they thought was five minutes, she said; “I’ve got to get to the other little room.” He held her and said; “No, right here is fine.” The rain once more blasted and Warren imagined that he detected water
Flustered, Connie tried to be playful, but Benito pushed her away. She hoped that this might be the start of a new game and tried again. But Benito again pushed her aside and said; “Take your stupid fucking pictures and get out of here. Don’t come back without what I want. Then, maybe I’ll allow you something.... Maybe.”
She had been treated roughly in the past and generally liked it, but previously she was always rewarded. This was a new strange feeling that she didn’t like, so she took the photos and left. The soaking she received getting to the car didn’t cool her off.
Mark took the pictures from Vicky and put them in one of his desk drawers. He dejectedly said; “See ’ya. I’m going home.” When he got into the hallway, he saw two burly men in soaked, dark, pinstriped suits walking quickly his way and before he could think, one grabbed his arm, spinning him around and the other punched him in the stomach. The wind knocked out of him, Mark fell to his knees, but they picked him up and frisked him, slamming him into the wall.
He got another shot in the belly and slumped down, thinking that these guys looked a bit like the duo he met at the warehouse entrance on Hook Harbor Road. They pulled him to his feet by the arms. One took out a knife and held it to Mark’s throat, saying; “This is a friendly message from Callie. If you keep following him, the next message will be delivered by the bad guys.”
They let him go, turned to leave and one turned back to give him another one in the gut. Mark fell to the ground again. His assailant pointed at him and said; “Don’t think we’re fucking around. You’re getting close to stuff that’s way over your head.” Mark sat there, not yet ready to move and remembered Connie’s comment about “statutory.” For the first, time he considered that he might be totally in the dark. If Connie was concerned with statutory rape, why didn’t she go to the cops? She must have meant “statutory” as a short hand way of merely describing the situation. And given her and her family’s lifestyle, why did she have a problem with Candy’s desires? Maybe Connie considered it too early to be playing with a fossil. But it’s 1972 and anything goes. And what kind of “way over my head” stuff is the thug talking about? Sonny and the Feds had warned him about Hook Harbor Road. But, no one said anything about the Thunderbird. He wanted to continue as he was making good money for the first time in his life. He knew he was missing something important.
When he felt better he dashed through the rain and drove back home, dripping wet. Allison greeted him at the door, saying; “I’m glad you’re back. I’m really feeling strange today.” She let the bathrobe slip from her shoulders, took him by the hand and said; “Come on, baby. Make me feel better.”
She sat on the couch, the only sound in the apartment the driving precipitation drenching the windowsill. He forgot about his bellyache.
When Connie got back home the first thing she did was put the photos in the family room chest of drawers where she kept Mark’s business cards. Warren entered the room wearing a robe and kissed her neck. He said; “Everything go okay?”
“No, but I don’t want to think about it.”
“You’re not in any trouble, are you?”
“No. I just may have lost an admirer.”
He slightly laughed and said; “Well, you’ll always have me.”
She gently kissed his lips and continued with increasing fervor. She said; “I love you so much.”
“I love you, too.”
“I’m also hot as hell.”
She sat down and he went down until the rain stopped. She got up, took his hand and put him in the chair. In a few minutes the precipitation again struck the open window. He stroked her hair tenderly and again said; “I love you.”
After five languid minutes, Connie got up and said; “I think I’m going to sleep the day away. I’ve been through a lot and I’m really tired.”
He said; “I’ll rest, too.... on my favorite pillow.”
She rubbed his cheek, saying; “Thanks, honey, but not now. I really need some sleep.” They kissed and she went upstairs to bed. Warren was wide awake, dressed and decided to use the idle time to check on Mark’s progress. He drove Connie’s Camaro to Journal Square. When he entered the vestibule of Mark’s office, he saw Vicky with her voluptuous black legs up on her desk, reflecting on the pictures she had taken out of Mark’s drawer of Connie’s exploits.
She was startled and embarrassed and quickly put her feet on the floor, knocking Connie’s photos all over. Warren bent down and picked up some of the pictures and was immediately elated.
As Vicky straightened her dress, Warren said; “Don’t be embarrassed. I do it all the time. Are there any more of these photos?”
“No, they’re all here.”
“Great. That’s what I came for.” He continued picking them up off the floor. Vicky picked up the phone and said; “I’ll get Mark.”
“Don’t bother him. This is what I came for. This is good stuff. Tell him to keep getting more; I’ll be glad to pay.”
“This IS good stuff. Mark hasn’t been paying attention to me lately and I’m lonely; you know what I’m saying.”
Warren used his advantageous position to get a different view of her rainy Afro. He kissed her and when she didn’t move, he got up and locked the outside door.
She continually moved around on the chair. She said; “You white guys are crazy freaks. But, I love it.”
After an hour they thought was five minutes, she said; “I’ve got to get to the other little room.” He held her and said; “No, right here is fine.” The rain once more blasted and Warren imagined that he detected water
Petra Eggs wrote the following review;
"The Long Haul: A Trucker's Tales of Life on the Road
by Finn Murphy
Petra Eggs's review Nov 30, 2017
(The author is talking about packing up a house for a move) "Books are completely disappearing. Remember in Fahrenheit 451 where the fireman's wife was addicted to interactive television and they sent fireman crews out to burn books? That mission has been largely accomplished in middleclass America and they didn't need the firemen. The interactive electronics took care of it without the violence,"
True. And electronic books can be altered to reflect the changing times if someone in power, a government, Bezos, or the author deems it necessary.
Music to listen to: Commander Cody and his Lost Planet Airmen's Mama Hated Diesels so Bad.... "
I've been advised by a conspiracy theorist who I did not believe at the time, that it is even a bit more insidious. Portions of books considered not in the interest of the powers that be, even when formatted for physical distribution, are having the "inconvenient" parts changed. I thought that it sounded like a small and difficult bang for the buck, But, I was watching one GR disagreeing conversation which they finally narrowed down to one page or paragraph of the book. One's book said one thing and the other's book said another. My former conspiracy theorist friend wants only old issues.
"The Long Haul: A Trucker's Tales of Life on the Road
by Finn Murphy
Petra Eggs's review Nov 30, 2017
(The author is talking about packing up a house for a move) "Books are completely disappearing. Remember in Fahrenheit 451 where the fireman's wife was addicted to interactive television and they sent fireman crews out to burn books? That mission has been largely accomplished in middleclass America and they didn't need the firemen. The interactive electronics took care of it without the violence,"
True. And electronic books can be altered to reflect the changing times if someone in power, a government, Bezos, or the author deems it necessary.
Music to listen to: Commander Cody and his Lost Planet Airmen's Mama Hated Diesels so Bad.... "
I've been advised by a conspiracy theorist who I did not believe at the time, that it is even a bit more insidious. Portions of books considered not in the interest of the powers that be, even when formatted for physical distribution, are having the "inconvenient" parts changed. I thought that it sounded like a small and difficult bang for the buck, But, I was watching one GR disagreeing conversation which they finally narrowed down to one page or paragraph of the book. One's book said one thing and the other's book said another. My former conspiracy theorist friend wants only old issues.
Great article. Had a great response. Can't post it. Why? I don't have the energy to get cyber-mobbed, stalked, and bullied by an angry, socially "progressive" mob. Hypocrisy, indeed. The worst kind: cloaked in righteous indignation, and shielded by the PC-Stasi.
(Disclaimer/CYA: No disrespect meant to anyone affiliated with Germany, German descents, or anyfuckingthing German, okay? It's an historical reference. Read a fucking history book, and take a break from jezewhatthefuckever.com)
JA, OUT.
Think I understand, except the progessive reference, which your parentheses rightly and effectively negated in sarcasm.
IDK. So, here comes the horse gift. Open the gates.
IDK. So, here comes the horse gift. Open the gates.
G4 so far today. It's the eighty millionth version of the same story. Apparently the only ones who haven't heard one of its versions are the dead, deaf and blind ones the rest of us elect to supposedly be in charge. Wonder what would happen if they gave an election and nobody came?
Unaware of the first returning promise of warm air, they were still huddled together inside. Perhaps in consideration of the “new” kitten additions to Pacific Lane they were simultaneously reading a very old book written by currently and of course thereby temporarily out of fashion Enid Blyton titled “The Cat with a Feathery Tail.” Lucky perched himself over Bella’s shoulder whenever Bella wasn’t perching herself over his. The only “issue” ever mentioned by others worthy of articulation and in Lucky and Bella’s case kindly un-articulated, was who had to bear the “burden” of holding the book open and turning the page at an appropriate time for their partner; that “burden” potentially and ideally regarded as a pleasure.
Stylized cover of Enid Blyton’s “The Cat with a Feathery Tail”; property of the author.
Bella said; “Oooh, that nasty cat wants to catch that poor bird. He’ll kill it!”
Lucky said; “No, his tail is feathered just like the bird. He just wants to play.” Distracted from the book, Lucky got a view through their tattered floor-to-ceiling double windows. Just like the other residents of Pacific Lane, he saw that the snow was in the process of making a rapid retreat. In fact there were small puddles right near their house, where the ground was unable to absorb all the water at the rate it was forming. He said; “Look at this, Bella.”
Bella said; “Don’t tell me. One of those cats has a dead bird in his mouth.”
Lucky said; “Stop that nonsense and look.”
Bella went to the smaller window to the side of the double ones. Despite its size, it worked perfectly. In fact it worked better in some respects; as on a practical basis, all of its panes were almost perfectly clear, at most the candidate for a monthly rag wiping. On an aesthetic basis, the little one’s exterior molding was not exactly the way it was when new, but the beauty of its time acquired patina could only be damaged through any foolish attempt to apply a modern purchased stain. The match was not possible through the perfunctory, electronically clicked on, mechanical use of a mass merchandising, Home Depot machine, even with its attendant use of a dried out sample piece. The frame looked as it had always had, if not put under the one-eyed scrutiny required by a state-of-the-art microscope, soon to be superseded by the inevitable “new and improved” version.
Bella jubilantly said; “The snow is finally melting!” She went to the front door, opened it, and beckoned Lucky to come with her.
Lucky thought he was cute. Just to be a roguish joker, he took his sweet time going through. Bella didn’t mind at all.
Windows; one requiring some cosmetic repair; property of the author.
Unaware of the first returning promise of warm air, they were still huddled together inside. Perhaps in consideration of the “new” kitten additions to Pacific Lane they were simultaneously reading a very old book written by currently and of course thereby temporarily out of fashion Enid Blyton titled “The Cat with a Feathery Tail.” Lucky perched himself over Bella’s shoulder whenever Bella wasn’t perching herself over his. The only “issue” ever mentioned by others worthy of articulation and in Lucky and Bella’s case kindly un-articulated, was who had to bear the “burden” of holding the book open and turning the page at an appropriate time for their partner; that “burden” potentially and ideally regarded as a pleasure.
Stylized cover of Enid Blyton’s “The Cat with a Feathery Tail”; property of the author.
Bella said; “Oooh, that nasty cat wants to catch that poor bird. He’ll kill it!”
Lucky said; “No, his tail is feathered just like the bird. He just wants to play.” Distracted from the book, Lucky got a view through their tattered floor-to-ceiling double windows. Just like the other residents of Pacific Lane, he saw that the snow was in the process of making a rapid retreat. In fact there were small puddles right near their house, where the ground was unable to absorb all the water at the rate it was forming. He said; “Look at this, Bella.”
Bella said; “Don’t tell me. One of those cats has a dead bird in his mouth.”
Lucky said; “Stop that nonsense and look.”
Bella went to the smaller window to the side of the double ones. Despite its size, it worked perfectly. In fact it worked better in some respects; as on a practical basis, all of its panes were almost perfectly clear, at most the candidate for a monthly rag wiping. On an aesthetic basis, the little one’s exterior molding was not exactly the way it was when new, but the beauty of its time acquired patina could only be damaged through any foolish attempt to apply a modern purchased stain. The match was not possible through the perfunctory, electronically clicked on, mechanical use of a mass merchandising, Home Depot machine, even with its attendant use of a dried out sample piece. The frame looked as it had always had, if not put under the one-eyed scrutiny required by a state-of-the-art microscope, soon to be superseded by the inevitable “new and improved” version.
Bella jubilantly said; “The snow is finally melting!” She went to the front door, opened it, and beckoned Lucky to come with her.
Lucky thought he was cute. Just to be a roguish joker, he took his sweet time going through. Bella didn’t mind at all.
Windows; one requiring some cosmetic repair; property of the author.
Just for female educational purposes of course, did Vanessa demonstrate any techniques at the close of the interview? If so, is there some webspot which has a film?
Jeez. Some prude just unliked their like.
COME ON FUCKHEADS. IT'S THE 21st CENTURY.
Oh, it was Hackle. Watdahelyugonnado?
Tra-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
COME ON FUCKHEADS. IT'S THE 21st CENTURY.
Oh, it was Hackle. Watdahelyugonnado?
Tra-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
RennieD wrote: "Jeez. Some prude just unliked their like.COME ON FUCKHEADS. IT'S THE 21st CENTURY.
Oh, it was Hackle. Watdahelyugonnado?"
Actually, I'm pretty sure it was some fuckhead named StanK.
deleted user wrote: "BUNCH OF CONSTIPATED ASSHOLES"YEAH
Arthur wrote; "Actually, I'm pretty sure it was some fuckhead named StanK."
Your attention to picky details jeopardizes the big picture. I mean, don't you understand meta?
Your attention to picky details jeopardizes the big picture. I mean, don't you understand meta?
This writer is looking for women who might record their stories for possible use in an offbeat book. In addition to a small gratuity the women may expect the benefits of future fame and lucrative Oprah interviews.
I'm trying to find if there is any woman out there who has not been sexually molested, groped, or otherwise inappropriately treated by rich, Hollywood old farts. I'd also have to know how you managed to avoid that. Stories will be fact checked.
Thank you.
I'm trying to find if there is any woman out there who has not been sexually molested, groped, or otherwise inappropriately treated by rich, Hollywood old farts. I'd also have to know how you managed to avoid that. Stories will be fact checked.
Thank you.
Such a good interview! She's so interesting. I went to find her Kim Kardashian article after I read her interview and god, people were harsh. I agree that it's crazy that she was treated so badly by self-proclaimed feminists. I mean. It's crazy, I'm not surprised, but it's crazy and deeply hypocritical.Anyway, she's a wonderful writer and super interesting. I really liked the interview.
J.A. wrote: "Hypocrisy, indeed. The worst kind: cloaked in righteous indignation"When conservatives go after people like Vanessa, at least it's in line with their general worldview, but when liberals attack in kind, it really shows the full magnitude of the shit she's up against. Openly expressing unpopular views is always a risky bet, especially (apparently) when you're a woman.
Arthur wrote; "Openly expressing unpopular views is always a risky bet, especially (apparently) when you're a woman. "
It's the fucking Millennials working in groups which have reached the lowest common denominator. If there's any mistake made it's in talking with them at all.
Fellatio is an "issue." Yeah, right. Reading of it, just keeps the non-participanting fantasy blow jobbers indignant and surreptitiously entertained. Shit's got its advantages. You don't have to shower afterwards.
SUCK THEM CROTCHES
It's the fucking Millennials working in groups which have reached the lowest common denominator. If there's any mistake made it's in talking with them at all.
Fellatio is an "issue." Yeah, right. Reading of it, just keeps the non-participanting fantasy blow jobbers indignant and surreptitiously entertained. Shit's got its advantages. You don't have to shower afterwards.
SUCK THEM CROTCHES
Saw a book review you liked yesterday. Could go VERY long and change the allegedly un-sociable one's response in many ways. Given the level of intelligence the dumb ass book displayed, I'll go with; "Fuck you, bitch. I'm outta here."
India wrote: "it's crazy that she was treated so badly by self-proclaimed feminists"Even the rejection of certain approaches to feminism can be seen as inherently feminist, but apparently this is lost upon those who'd reflexively condemn her.
Arthur wrote: "India wrote: "it's crazy that she was treated so badly by self-proclaimed feminists"
Even the rejection of certain approaches to feminism can be seen as inherently feminist, but apparently this is..."
It's group think or group non-think shit. Might as well pay attention to the claims made by used car salesmen.
Even the rejection of certain approaches to feminism can be seen as inherently feminist, but apparently this is..."
It's group think or group non-think shit. Might as well pay attention to the claims made by used car salesmen.
So fuck all that. Let's get on something of real relevance. Walmart. They've been trying to compete with Amazon in various ways and one of them is to provide less checkout people. Not bright, okay? Today I waited on line sufficient time for an elephant to thaw out, never mind my TV diinners. And right in front of me was this cheerful fuck in a Santa Claus hat, him likely a speed freak, trying to cheer up every poor ass mutha within earshot. Fucker was almost as old as me. Shit.
I wasn't in all that good of a mood to start with, due to all the other fucks on the road doing stupid and unenforced illegal shit I had to compensate for fearing a collision. So, here's Mr. Happy Sociability inflicting it on me for what seemed an interminable length of time. If stupid ass Walmart ain't gonna provide enough checkers, at least they out to have a sign there saying; "Shut the fuck up." Good manners is common sense.
I wasn't in all that good of a mood to start with, due to all the other fucks on the road doing stupid and unenforced illegal shit I had to compensate for fearing a collision. So, here's Mr. Happy Sociability inflicting it on me for what seemed an interminable length of time. If stupid ass Walmart ain't gonna provide enough checkers, at least they out to have a sign there saying; "Shut the fuck up." Good manners is common sense.
Looking good on the book and rightly so from what I've seen. Now you just have to figure out how to make them pay through the nose for it.
RennieD wrote: "Looking good on the book and rightly so from what I've seen. Now you just have to figure out how to make them pay through the nose for it."Thanks, but I'll gladly accept payment through other bodily orifices as well.
Billy the Kid is a fucker all right.
Read it so quick I'll have to read it again. Any official" review I might write would quickly be deleted, but all it would say would be "Wow and I'm saddened that you have the material to do some of this."
Anyone reading this might think I'm very biased. Well I am and I'm not. I was sufficiently pissed today to give Arthur the kind of shit I sometimes do. But try to find fault as I may, if they allowed me to vote, this book would be my book of the year.
SHIT.
Anyone reading this might think I'm very biased. Well I am and I'm not. I was sufficiently pissed today to give Arthur the kind of shit I sometimes do. But try to find fault as I may, if they allowed me to vote, this book would be my book of the year.
SHIT.
Remiss. Music. See, the goddam thing most don't comprende is "That Smell" is only up the nose of the smeller.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hib4n...
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hib4n...
If the offered advances for the sequel are not yet streaming in, you just got the wrong fucking agent. That's all there is to it.
Radical boomers took substantial risks too. It would take a long story to compare and contrast. The short story is that now things are more organized through the web.
IDK. If they're not going to be fair about it, fight fire with fire? They have jobs and business interests which don't want negative publicity. Just dox em. It's not against the law yet.
IDK. If they're not going to be fair about it, fight fire with fire? They have jobs and business interests which don't want negative publicity. Just dox em. It's not against the law yet.
Fuck. Slipped into that troll shit again yesterday. Deleted. You know it's not entiely my fault. Fuckin' Millennils.
Be that as it may, I'm just not ever again clicking that "like" button on blank reviews. If they can't take a minute to write a few words FUCKEM.
1993 "Wild Palms" was on our exact topic. I guess I could bitch about originality, but I guess the shit is chronic.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wild_Palms
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wild_Palms
RennieD wrote: "if they allowed me to vote, this book would be my book of the year."Nice of you to say, but if you're being serious, I'd suggest trying the far superior works of Douglas Hackle instead.
Yeah, I'm being serious. Harry can articulate the technical aspects I can only sense. But, fuck yeah.
I'll gladly put Hackle on my list. Be aware that your recommendation has raised expectations, and that is usually a recipe for disappointment.
I'll gladly put Hackle on my list. Be aware that your recommendation has raised expectations, and that is usually a recipe for disappointment.
This is getting perversely amusing, unexplainable to a cyber entity.
You see that if you remain solely within the text, in consideration of the purposely incorrectly perceived ontology of the bookish, factor in the sheckels of some important-to-themselves GR politicians, the resultant charade is a much too obvious Ludlum played by actors with no talent.
You see that if you remain solely within the text, in consideration of the purposely incorrectly perceived ontology of the bookish, factor in the sheckels of some important-to-themselves GR politicians, the resultant charade is a much too obvious Ludlum played by actors with no talent.
Got a good beat and you can dance to it, at least until speculative math collapses the wave function.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lQ2q-...
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lQ2q-...
“There's nothing wrong with giving up all your principles for a suitable financial reward. It is indeed the basis of our society.”
― Manny Rayner
Yeah. How's about 350 "like" clicks and a fake honorable mention as having assisted in the translation of a Dalkey book?
― Manny Rayner
Yeah. How's about 350 "like" clicks and a fake honorable mention as having assisted in the translation of a Dalkey book?
RennieD wrote: "You see that if you remain solely within the text, in consideration of the purposely incorrectly perceived ontology of the bookish, factor in the sheckels of some important-to-themselves GR politicians, the resultant charade is a much too obvious Ludlum played by actors with no talent."¿Qué?
Arthur wrote; "Qué?"
Pasa? Sigh. Just gotta find someone brighter or with a better sense of humor to speak with.
Pasa? Sigh. Just gotta find someone brighter or with a better sense of humor to speak with.
Excepting chromosomally enhanced rednecks, the simple fact is that there is no dispute between homosexuals and heterosexuals. There is a long running dispute between sexuals and non-sexuals which is not worth bothering with because it’s like Clayton Kershaw striking out little leaguers. That’s all there is to the whole fucking thing if one ignores the “issues” presented by “slick” GR scam artists angling for cabfare.
If you disagree with that, tell it to a redneck chromo-star. I don’t care and don’t want to hear it. This is the fucking simple shit.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6FOUq...
If you disagree with that, tell it to a redneck chromo-star. I don’t care and don’t want to hear it. This is the fucking simple shit.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6FOUq...
If that last one is not of an acceptable "genre" for you, perhaps you'll prefer this one. Personally, I don't give a shit either way.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bM9SH...
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bM9SH...
But, you well know, like Vanessa was saying this censorship has gotten out of hand. Not even getting into anything one could reasonably call borderline, they're banning children's books; one because the adults weren't portrayed nicely enough, and a series of others which "were too old fashioned."
BUNCH OF CONSTIPATED ASSHOLES