 |
| See: this is just the kind of thing I'm talking about. One minute you think you're having a pleasant conversation, and..., I dunno, maybe there was something that upset her or something, but when you wake up you're naked and gagged, upside down in a canvas sack bumping along a country road to goodness knows where... I guess it's a Mars/Venus thing. |
 |
| When they next see Trevor, I expect they can ask him how the special effects wizards manage to make the torture and murder look so realistic. |
 |
| Thank goodness all that's behind me. |
 |
| Poor thing. I expect he has no idea how much pain she's been going through, the heartless bastard. |
 |
| Yeah 'trodden'. It is a ridiculous language, actually. Perhaps Gal could give me a few Hebrew lessons. I'm sure I'd be a very conscientious student. |
"...And between her legs, he smelled... The smell of a man!"
ReplyDeleteThank You, Servitor!
Did he? I must have missed that bit. But I expect you're right. And why not? The smell of this man is mainly cleaning fluids and the occasional hint of urine, but other men are usually more fragrant. Except when they've been engaged in vigorous physical activity for most of the noght, obviously.
DeleteLove the Wonder Woman ones.
ReplyDeleteThank you. So do I. Your use of the plural implies you already know this, but for other worshippers at the church (or should it be synagogue?) of Goddess Gadot, you need to click on 'whimpering in adoration' in the little wordcloud thingy up there.
Delete