Sleeping with the Wanton Sisters

Honey, there is a fine line between negative criticism and downright insult. And if you had your porn history straight you would know that the Marquis didn’t indulge in any such act; it is but only a figment of your defiled imagination. You may have confused yourself by watching the film in which they show him writing with s***. But fascinations are truly a b*tch!

You think Britney Spears is a significant name? God help you. And Oedipus; go figure why I used that one.

Listen Maul-a-lot, if you want to continue with this I suggest you write me on my personal email address (you’ll have it before you can say vermiculated French fetishes)

Regards,

Zuhair

Ps. I must thank you for your trouble of going through the other short story.

Funny. Do you always act like a pms`ing tart if your work isn`t scrutinized positively? You have as much right to be proud of your work, as Sade was of devouring his own faeces, but that doesn`t mean others have to toe in line, or do they? And I assume that the melaena is part of the same stream of thoughts that produced the literary disaster that made you pout significant names randomly in order to get a higher appraisal of it? Now, next time you don`t want to make sense, please do use the shredder.

Cheers.

P.S: Oh, your other article was refreshing nonetheless and inconsistency isn`t a vice. I`d have liked to belief otherwise, but it seems that you`ve reached the zenith already. Happy trundling!

The only difference, Mr. Marlboro Medium, is that the shredder doesn’t give you money for it. And when you say ‘Lord’ my assumption is that it is the god of past tense that you refer to in a state of hapless frenzy. C’mon man, you broke my freaking heart; as if I need someone named Maulabux to do that! Did you ever wonder how the time you wasted typing that comment could have been used for something more rewarding, like maybe trying to slit the wrists using a Britney Spears CD.

Relax Oedipus, I’m no James Joyce and neither is your daddy.

And ummm… this isn’t soup kitchen; take your decadence someplace else.

Looks beautiful somehow in an indescribable way.
The visual imagery woven through the lines seems realistic. Or maybe i`m just dreaming.
The details seem vivid.
Has that first-written-piece feel to it. The virgin piece, untouched, unedited, unadulterated?

Good one.

We all write such pieces, and then hand them over to the shredder. And you managed to got this published twice. Lord!

Nice. What`s the title all about?