[locked post]

[burning_blake]

Well, that was educational. I now know what's it like to have stitches, and broken ribs, and partial amnesia. I have also seen a shoe with most of a foot in it and many other charming artifacts of fanaticism.

Are your tea parties always like this, Jobi?

Comments

[eliza_phelp]

What happens if your mother finds out?

[burning_blake]

God only knows. You never met her, did you?

[mad_byron]

Give me her number. I'm going to call her right now.

[burning_blake]

In all good faith I meant to leave you alone, but I'm starting to think you WANT to be persecuted. Are you that lonely?

[mad_byron]

Oh yes, Blake, by all means. Because I fopped about with your little twiggy prince for an afternoon, I want to have my jacket returned sans diary and sent back to Stoker, while you stand there and lecture me about what it is to love somebody.

Yes, I love not being able to get a word in edgewise to your fragile submissive dove, who much like a kitten follows and mewls in your footsteps, in order to at least apologize to him past transgressions. I owe you nothing.

And to top it all, I hear you were 'being bad' on purpose, to impress he who will always be impressed with you because you supposed your cock wasn't as big as mine (even though you've never seen it, fal-der-all) and now I can't seperate either of you with a crowbar. You ought to just walk around in one set of clothes and call yourselves Neddy Blake.

I don't like being used for wangst, Blake. I am not a dragon to be slayed.

[burning_blake]

I have a feeling that was supposed to be in English, but I'm not sure what it was meant to say. Is it a Markov text generator result, I wonder?

[mad_byron]

Right, well, I'm off to Italy. Your obnoxious takeover is no longer amusing, Blake.

[neddy_l]

She wouldn't let him play with me any more. Of course she'd have to find us first.

[burning_blake]

That's what the tree by my window is for!