![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
3/10/06
Chapter six! Whoo-hoo! *waggles butt in a cheeky way*
*snorfle--she said cheeky*
*snorfle snorfle*
Just for you here's the beginning of chapter six--shhhh!Don't tell anyone. *looks all shifty eyes*
"It was a dark and stormy night; the rain fell in torrents--except at occasional intervals, when it was checked by a violent gust of wind which swept up the streets (for it is in London that our scene lies), rattling along the housetops, and fiercely agitating the scanty flame of the lamps that struggled against the darkness."* or so the small white and black spotted Beagle typed (for it was a canine of particular intellingence who typed these words) on his ancient beloved old workhorse of an Olivetti, a manual type writer of the sort no longer used by the average person. But what my friend is average? Indeed.
The door flung open and on the windswept, damp and dreary doorstep stood a tall,lithesome figure, remarkable not only for it's great physical beauty but for the fact it was bald, bald he was (for he was undeniably, utterly masculine)and rich beyond most peoples dreams--most*average* peoples...
remember ya'll, mum's the word.
*thank you, Edward George Bulwer-Lytton,
eta: I hate spellcheck and my brain....
*snorfle--she said cheeky*
*snorfle snorfle*
Just for you here's the beginning of chapter six--shhhh!Don't tell anyone. *looks all shifty eyes*
"It was a dark and stormy night; the rain fell in torrents--except at occasional intervals, when it was checked by a violent gust of wind which swept up the streets (for it is in London that our scene lies), rattling along the housetops, and fiercely agitating the scanty flame of the lamps that struggled against the darkness."* or so the small white and black spotted Beagle typed (for it was a canine of particular intellingence who typed these words) on his ancient beloved old workhorse of an Olivetti, a manual type writer of the sort no longer used by the average person. But what my friend is average? Indeed.
The door flung open and on the windswept, damp and dreary doorstep stood a tall,lithesome figure, remarkable not only for it's great physical beauty but for the fact it was bald, bald he was (for he was undeniably, utterly masculine)and rich beyond most peoples dreams--most*average* peoples...
remember ya'll, mum's the word.
*thank you, Edward George Bulwer-Lytton,
eta: I hate spellcheck and my brain....
What Sound Does A Lemming Make?
3/10/06 08:05 pmThis might be a very useful thing....Anyhoo, I have also created a GJ account. Ummmm...squeak, squeak?
http://roxymissrose.greatestjournal.com/
http://roxymissrose.greatestjournal.com/