Underwhelming. Could have done without the weirdo chick insisting on writing, and reading aloud, porn and telling me she "thought of" me while she was writing it. How very nice. I think she thought she was being devastatingly funny. But these things remind me that I am no longer 19, and this, in fact, is a good thing.
Also: more snow. It's like Chicago is trying to torture me in small increments.
4 comments:
Was it at least good porn?
No, no it wasn't, alas. The author is still working on her prose stylings. Although in some ways, it was better than the last story she did, which featured an excruciatingly detailed scene of loyal dogs dying one by one. It had its own flow, you could say.
I was just glad not to be the poor girl who had to read it to our class. She waited until absolute last and her face was an unhealthy shade of red. And this is a chick whose own work is pretty sexually frank.
Only thing worse than poorly written erotica is teen love poetry.
Oh, god yes.
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