It was raining like a bastard...
How does a bastard rain?
>>25546446FINEIt was raining like a poor bastard with gallstones standing over the john at 4:00 in the morning...
>>25546446Bloody...
Fat, heavy drops spattering across the city's dark night windows, as if a vast homely man pounded away at a hapless maid or nurse somewhere behind the clouds, shuddering and delivering droplets of sweat onto her rapt body, which was also the city btw.
When that dame tapped into my office I took one look into those blue eyes that didn't and mistook her for justice
>>25546458She was legs galore and had a body that could wake a dead man from a thousand year slumber, the last thing on my mind was the case.
>>25546468>had a body that could wake a dead man from a thousand year slumber,Makes me think of that line from that one Rolling Stones song...
>>25546468By a glance of her face I knew she was trouble. She frowned like someone who had been gangraped by a train of Indians and had no idea how to get rid of the stench.
There was a rhythm to what the anon said that was just magnificent, I mean. Critics will say that it is not, but I cannot think that it would be anybody else
>>25546441It was raining like a motherfucker.
Parmello came in. He had the complexion of rosé, and I was to be his sommelier. As he turned to shut the door I noticed his panty-line was creased . . . just my luck.
>>25546505Kek
>>25546441>It was raining bastards...
>It was a dark and stormy bastard
This writing is great you guys have real talent
>It was raining likely bastards...
>>25546441It was just after seven on a hard cold November evening and the raindrops were hitting the window as though it owed them money.I didn’t care about the weather. I had other things on my mind.The science-fiction author, Ray Bradbury, had a guaranteed system for people trying to break into the literature racket. Novels were for suckers, according to Mr. Bradbury. Short stories were the thing. Just write one short story a week, he said, and at the end of a year you’ll have fifty stories and it will be mathematically impossible for all fifty to be duds. Well, I’d been following his system for less than two months and I was already seven and a half stories behind schedule.I stared grimly at typewriter in front of me. Two paragraphs if you included the title and I wasn’t happy with either of them. I went to the sideboard and mixed myself a big scotch and soda. The soda had run out two weeks ago but that was all right with me.I heard the lift coming up. A moment later footsteps sounded in the corridor. Maybe it was the publishing director of Harper Collins, beating a path to my door. Well, if it was, he’d just have to do without soda, that’s all.
>>25547420noice
>>25546441The loveliness of Paris, seems somehow sadly gay. The glory of what was Rome is of another day. I've been terribly alone and forgotten in Manhattan. I'm going home, to my city by the bay.
>>25546441The rain was cold and relentless. The wind was also cold, and also relentless, but not as much as the rain. I was sitting in my office, which was also cold, and relentlessly drinking a glass of cold whiskey, when the longest pair of legs on this side of the ocean relentlessly walked into my cold office by relentless pushing the cold doorknob of my office door, which relented under the force this stunning, emotionless, ice-cold stare of a temptress was relentlessly casting towards my cold, tired heart.
