"Curse her traitorous anatomy! This was not the place for swollen nipples, not the time for cloying wetness, or creeping warmth at the delta of her skirt-clad thighs."
Elf, I curse you. I curse you to the bad side of St. Lucia, Our Lady of Plot Devices. I curse you to read the whole of that stinker as penance for inflicting it upon us. I curse you to be devoured by ravenous hordes of bloated plot-hares.
(Seriously, it gives me great hope. I was better than that even when I was bad)
no subject
Date: 2006-02-15 04:49 am (UTC)Elf, I curse you.
I curse you to the bad side of St. Lucia, Our Lady of Plot Devices.
I curse you to read the whole of that stinker as penance for inflicting it upon us.
I curse you to be devoured by ravenous hordes of bloated plot-hares.
(Seriously, it gives me great hope. I was better than that even when I was bad)