My muse is on a rampage. Except there is a teeny little problem. It’s been crippleled by legal jargon.
Damn the Board of Legal Examiners and their sadistic practices. Now I’ll never be a writer. Never will my words grace the pages of Cosmopolitan magazine. My aspirations of being the Anne Rice of now have been shattered into dozens of … of…
brain dead……
Actually, I would give an arm and a leg to not have to read any of Rice’s new stuff. To lock me up in a room with one of her newer books would be false imprisonment and intentional infliction of emotional distress. I’ll show you outrageous! Outrageously bad. How’s character assassination for you? Shall I add that to your order with a Christopher on the side? Whipped cream you say? Sorry, it only comes with Hershey’s chocolate syrup, but I assure you it’s almost as good.
la madre
eres una ni�a
empe�ada en tu cuna
triste como la luna
eterna en tu soled�d