in the outcast country…

Habeas Crapus

Pasted and made agent, once again, I earned the title of Chancroid of Elfador. I understood public relations and quickly assembled a fleet to sail to Festicularis. Never had so many sumptuous furs been made execrable by laying upon them and evacuating our bowels upon them. The Chancellor of Quas made an appearance by summons of habeas crapus. In our midst he exhibited a prowess for combat with crabs and lice, in a manner so expert, that we allowed him to search and clean our bodies. This was a satisfied accomplishment — maybe even an occasion for pity. We were all destined for history in the outcast country. We would certainly overtake the heathen and Papist alike. We had the flinders of the saints. We had them by the short hairs.

“The most important thing is you can’t write what you wouldn’t read for pleasure… You need to write what you would read if you expect anybody else to read it.”
— Nora Roberts

About istsfor manity

i'm a truncated word-person looking for an assemblage of extracted teeth in a tent full of mosquitoes (and currently writing a novel without writing a novel word) and pulling nothing but the difficult out of the top hat while the bunny munches grass in the hallway. you might say: i’m thee asynchronous voice over in search of a film....
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