No more trampling my turf, wolfing down my fruit, embarrassing my noble lady friends. Gay sex The press. I took pity on…”Medusa’s snakes were bouncing like bedsprings. I heard she went over to Omphale’s for a cry.”“Drat. We can pay.”“You’re SOL,” she parried.“What’s that?”Her turn to capitalize, “Shit Outta Luck. And…and…it’s on the tip of my tongue – you used to date that girl Helen over in Troy. I’ve got eighty journey-tired tars who need TLC.”“What’s that, some new curative?”“Tender, Loving Care,” he capitalized. Ed.] with Plato, both draped in their bedsheets (which is why philosophers look alike at a distance), opining learnedly on the action. And…and…it’s on the tip of my tongue – you used to date that girl Helen over in Troy. A finger in each side of her embouchure, she whistled with the intimidating force of steam [To be discovered, the moment was that prophetic. I’ve got eighty journey-tired tars who need TLC.”“What’s that, some new curative?”“Tender, Loving Care,” he capitalized.
