So clearly, Mahogany Row has decided that the incident with the Star Vampire at Annabelle's was just too much and he must never know about the glamour that has been cast over Harvey Nicks.
]]>CODE: COME WHAT MAY
]]>But, the monarch really, really doesn't want to go there, unless absolutely pushed, simply because government is complicated enough already, & there are standard procedures for most things.
]]>'Quod licet Jovis non licet bovis' (What is allowed to Jupiter is not allowed to an ox)
that is really asking to be updated and applied to Boris...
]]>I'd made a point that I am NOT writing military SF (screw you, Jerry and Vox Turd). I started on this, and this was going to be perhaps the hardest to write, because this person sees the full destruction of his city (alien invasion of an interstellar colony, 400 years out). It was incredibly slow going. Then I realized, last Wed or so, that I had been trying to write it as military (he was in the called-up reserves), and realized that was wrong, and redid it all from his viewpoint, or following him. Wrote about 3k words in a day or two.
Then, Friday, in addition to getting most of my work done at work, and hours in front of my workstation at home... I wrote over 8k words in one day. I think it only needs polishing, and some descriptive verbiage on the characters themselves.
This is serious spookiness.
mark
]]>Who the fuck is Jorris and why does he get away with even more than BoJo?
]]>My guess is, Bob sits down, straightens his Wily Cayote tie, listens with half an ear to assorted mangled quotes from Cicero, ignores the deliberate back brushing of the hair and, after seeing the green coiling horrors behind the eyes, collapses the wavefunction of the entropy sucking parasite from beyond space-time that is Boris: his overheated class 6 ward burning out and leaving little more than a slight smell of charred paternity suits and an Eton mess on the Wilton carpet.
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