Suicide is painless

So my last post went over well, but not well enough. No one sent me any angry e-mails. And the linetrap post hasn’t been knocked off the most hit list. Not that I mind Bailey Jay bringing all the boys to the yard, I just thought a post about anal sex (well, a story about anal sex) would blow her milkshake out the park.

I was wrong, of course. Instead, my review (can we even call it that?) of a poorly written erotic story (can I even call it that?) was noticed by someone whose blog I linked. Huzzah! to me.

Perhaps, I found a niche for the blog. I promised no reviews, and technically the last post wasn’t a review. At least not in the sense of book review. Those who can, do; those who can’t, teach. I haven’t written a decent story since 2007. My writing well dried up.

But it won’t always be poorly written stories that hit my blog. I’ll feature well written stories – I’m reading one that will be remarkably awesome. Before I sign off for this post, I just want to let you know that the following is a very real book. Adios.

 

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