I can't write. I think finishing that damned thesis broke something instrumental in the cogs of my brain, and nothing creative will leave it now.
Have you *any* idea what this means?
No more sappy-slushy Spashley fiction! Oh, the horror!
On the other hand, as the latest idea I had revolved around Spencer passing gas at the most inopportune
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Mr. V
(Stumbled across this page quite by accident the other day.)
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I truly hope this was not an incident based in reality.
Patience, my poppet! It'll come back to you, just like the drinking did after you dropped out of AA.
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And, dearest, you do remember that I started drinking before dropping out of AA? (Or, rather, before I was summarily kicked out when they caught me passing the flask around.)
*sigh*
Some people just have no sense of humor...
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