My phone rang, I answered and I heard: Hi my name is Bob and I like pie
It's a commonly held belief that imaginary friends cease to exist when their human creators grow up. However, that simply isn't the case...
I was 13 years old when I first encountered my doppelgänger. Walking down the high street, on my way to the post box, he peeled off from the wall where he had been loitering and
He was handsome, a banker type, touch of grey at the temples, just my type. We made eye contact and I smiled. He fletched his teeth. Ughh braces, with food particles. My fetish
My full heart bids me boldly sing the horses of the ravisher from Dis and the stars darkened by the shadow of his infernal chariot and the gloomy chambers of the queen of Hell.
So, it's time again. The moon's satellite station, sending down yet another carbon rod to the surface. Rising up above the horizon a distant flare of light shone as bright as
"Oh, really? Really? Oh, oh, that's just, that's just great. Oh, yeah, fantastic. You're a real charmer. You should take that act on the road."