My great aunt Lillian is a famous author, but I am infamous, as in "not" famous, or so I thought the meaning of the word. I wrote that once in a biographical sketch for undergrad
I sent my eyes into the hills to search the dark places; to see the dark places. My eyes returned with good report.
Two days ago, Catatafish, of the Salmon School, was summoned by Lemmiwinks, hero of Mr. Slave's digestive sistem to help him kill his evil cousin, Sokratis.
Ashamed, I sped Veronica to the ER in my convertible. A banana was lodged in her throat. I warned her about practicing fellatio on fruit while laying down, but she didn't listen.
If only there was a song for every room, every room a song, then there would be room for every song. A song for every rock, a rockstar for every song. Who thinks he’s a rockstar?
Mozart faked his death so that he could do something else.
Ironically, it happened on a Thursday.
He told the women that Gabriel had told him that he was to father the new Messiah. He also told him that the demons also knew and would try to stop him. So he needed to have sex wi
Starship NX5-231 was conveying her human research crew through the Tergulian Sector when she detected the faint strains of Joteo Prang's cover of "Starfaring Stranger" on channel
