So we’re watching the military channel. H.E. is drinking a V-8, and I’m crocheting a cap, while a promo for a new documentary on weapons plays. I’m in the middle of a stitch, so it’s no wonder I’m easily confused. “Did they just say ‘stronger body odor‘?” I ask. H.E. immediately stops drinking and stills for a moment as he works to keep the fluid in his mouth, and seconds before he finally responds, I realize what it was I…
I don’t think I’ll get much done today—it hurts to do anything, let alone sit at the computer. I had a stiff neck all day yesterday, probably from sleeping on it wrong the night before, and it’s worse today, the pain spanning from the top of my head, to the middle of my upper right arm, and to my mid-back. Heck, just glancing down at the keyboard causes pain, and I couldn’t get comfortable while lying down in bed. What…
I’m working tonight under deadline, so just a photo today. It’s Huntington Beach on a gray day. Very unusual. Larger version here. Share this post:
Dionne Galace aka Bam‘s rules: Story: I want something nuclear. And I want it hot… like summer-hot. I want to be able to feel the heat (as in the weather) and smell the sunblock lotion. But that’s just the background. On top of that, I want sexual tension and your hero and heroine […] just aching to tear off each other’s clothes off. [O]ne caveat: no explicit language and no overly purple prose. Can you convey sex without using sexually…
Kayelle Allen‘s and Lila Dubois‘s rules: Goal: Use as many descriptive words as you can cram in the paragraph. Length: 100 words The alabaster complexioned anchorite, the erstwhile poetaster, concluded from decades of solitary ratiocination that his unique aptitude of penning poesy in describing his singular steadfast adoration could not suffice. Only a constant demonstration, thrice-daily rituals swollen with emotion, could properly express his need. Blinded by lust, he’d worship the object of his affection from afar, unable to caress…