What a coincidence! Joey LeGay ate the same crap, mutton, goose and of course washed it all down with Vin Mariani! I'll be pulling up the posts from About shortly.

Man, you REALLY need to switch gears. You're too damn predictable and dull. Always the same shit, the same boilerplate for a story line, always the France/Brittany shtik..... Gary, travel some and then come back with new material. Or bring back other characters like the gay model or Unseen Dave.




PS - GK. Unlike THME, some of US can see right through your "patina of excrement". (remember that line of yours?)

You have become the literary Beacon of PWR, Devon.

Given the level of incandescence and illumination here, you probably won't need more than two double A batteries to power your Beacon...

I only need the severed leg of a frog attached to electrodes to power me.

Devon

What a coincidence! ura1.gif Joey LeGay ate the same crap, mutton, goose and of course washed it all down with Vin Mariani! I'll be pulling up the posts from About shortly.

Man, you REALLY need to switch gears. You're too damn predictable and dull. Always the same shit, the same boilerplate for a story line, always the France/Brittany shtik..... Gary, travel some and then come back with new material. Or bring back other characters like the gay model or Unseen Dave.




PS - hello.gif GK. Unlike THME, some of US can see right through your "patina of excrement". (remember that line of yours?)

To stand on the saw dusted floors of these forums as the 20's repass by in a flash.





i was sitting in mcsorley’s]
E. E. Cummings
1925

i was sitting in mcsorley's. outside it was New York and beautifully snowing.

Inside snug and evil. the slobbering walls filthily push witless creases of screaming warmth chuck pillows are noise funnily swallows swallowing revolvingly pompous a the swallowed mottle with smooth or a but of rapidly goes gobs the and of flecks of and a chatter sobbings intersect with which distinct disks of graceful oath, upsoarings the break on ceiling-flatness

the Bar.tinking luscious jigs dint of ripe silver with warm-lyish wetflat splurging smells waltz the glush of squirting taps plus slush of foam knocked off and a faint piddle-of-drops she says I ploc spittle what the lands thaz me kid in no sir hopping sawdust you kiddo

he's a palping wreaths of badly Yep cigars who jim him why gluey grins topple together eyes pout gestures stickily point made glints squinting who's a wink bum-nothing and money fuzzily mouths take big wobbly foot

steps every goggle cent of it get out ears dribbles soft right old feller belch the chap hic summore eh chuckles skulch. . . .

and I was sitting in the din thinking drinking the ale, which never lets you grow old blinking at the low ceiling my being pleasantly was punctuated by the always retchings of a worthless lamp.

when With a minute terrif iceffort one dirty squeal of soiling light yanKing from bushy obscurity a bald greenish foetal head established It suddenly upon the huge neck around whose unwashed sonorous muscle the filth of a collar hung gently.

(spattered)by this instant of semiluminous nausea A vast wordless nondescript genie of trunk trickled firmly in to one exactly-mutilated ghost of a chair,

a;domeshaped interval of complete plasticity,shoulders, sprouted the extraordinary arms through an angle of ridiculous velocity commenting upon an unclean table.and, whose distended immense Both paws slowly loved a dinted mug

gone Darkness it was so near to me,i ask of shadow won't you have a drink?

(the eternal perpetual question)

Inside snugandevil. i was sitting in mcsorley's It,did not answer.

outside.(it was New York and beautifully, snowing. . . .

DEVON STRIKES AGAIN. HE COMES AND SLAPS DOWN A STORY THAT MAKES PEOPLE THINK. I CAN SEE THIS FROM THE RESPONSES. BUT WHO IS DEVON REALLY? I SUSPECT SOMEONE OF FAR GREATER INTELLIGENCE THAN THE ATTENTION WHORE WHO WANTS TO CONSTANTLY CALL OUT TO GODDESS.

BUT WE WILL REALLY NEVER KNOW.

IF A PROFESSIONAL WRITER CAME HERE--THEN THE QUESTION IS WHY?

UNANSWERED.

FOLLOWER NOT IDOL.

there, fixed that for ya.

I like the title. Your recent stories have been leaning towards science fiction. Cool

Trevor are youse gonna teach a class on how to be something your not with the WWWWOOOOOOOO as yer first pupil? You have not even got yer own self down to a resonable fax yet. These rolls are damn flaky.

He enjoys pointing out my personality flaws, he doesn't necessarily want to help me fix them in any way. Then he would no longer have anything to point at............

Thanks. I hope I don't disappoint you. The title may be misleading, but to tell you how or why would give away the plot. I like science fiction too, but my type of science fiction has very little science in it, and that is a problem. One editor of Analog wrote back to me once that I needed to study physics. I got the same comment from the Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction twice. I sucked in all scientific subjects in school, only took the required elective classes, and then slept through most of them. I totally stink at technology. It's a wonder I know how to turn these computers on. You need to know some technology in order to write good science fiction, so I veer toward more dark fantasy than anything else. I like futuristic stuff because, as an economist, I am always prognosticating. That is what we do. So creating multiple futures is very interesting to me. Multiple futures based on current trends.

Practicing economists always see the world differently than others. We see things coming that are not in the mainstream news. Often we are wrong (for example, last February I soundly predicted $7/gallon gasoline by August), but then we are right sometimes too.

So I hope you like the next story despite its lack of science.

You can tell me when you see it.

Devon