Oscar Wilde Gets a Little Lost in the Sauce
He could tell at once that this luncheon’s company would be quite dull, which was always exciting.
He could tell at once that this luncheon’s company would be quite dull, which was always exciting.
You may have noticed by now I’ve not typed a single word in over three hours. Don’t be alarmed. It’s all part of the process.
Goes without saying, but no rhyming means no sonnets. I don't care if Shakespeare wrote 154 sonnets; you will be writing zero in this truck.
It’s the story of one man’s life of tears and anguish, obscured by a drawn-on smile and a perennial cloud of dirt.
He ruffles my feathers. He overcooks my sunny-side-up eggs. You know what I mean? Really Mondays my Garfield.
“Makes you glad to have nerve endings.” — Kirkus Reviews
February 1: Someone told me the ice cream bowl was basically just a cone. Total hater.
The word was poised to leap out of my mouth. I could feel the word coming loose from whatever papillae it had stepped in.
Before Lex Luthor’s hedge fund bought us out and we started reporting only by telephone, I loved running to crime scenes.
Prompt 4: Do you think you’ll ever grow out of being a nerd?
I do feel this horrible event on a visceral and personal level, like way worse than how anyone else is feeling it, for sure.
If they have a mentor over the age of sixty who spends most of their day wearing robes, then you are dealing with an absolute keeper.