Ageless: All the Time in the World by Pettyexpo, literature
Literature
Ageless: All the Time in the World
“Gray fucking hair, Bethany” Lara shouted through the phone in her hand. “Calm down boss” Bethany chimed in through the hysterical shouts of her boss. “So it’s a few strains of gray hair. Happens to the best of us. It’s not the end of the world. Besides with your tits and ass in his face, it’s not like he’s going to notice a few gray hairs.” “But, but, but” Lara tried to continue but each time her lawyer and friend cut her off and dismissed what had happened. “You don’t know anything about your condition. You’ve just always assumed that you were immortal. What if you just age really really slowly? I mean this could be no big deal. If you’re really worried we could always see a doctor and let them in on your secret” Bethany stated as bluntly as she could through a yawn. “No doctors. You know better than that Bethany” Lara said as a bit of composure returned to her. “Then stop freaking out, and go out there and enjoy your night with that sexy young thing who is probably wondering
BA#7: The Art of the Body by firewarrior121, literature
Literature
BA#7: The Art of the Body
______________________________________________________________________ BRIEF ACCIDENTS CASE #07: The Art of the Body Thread topic: / Life / Experiences / “Has anyone else gained lots of weight??” Post Title : “I felt connected to a pose model I had one time” posted by: p_a_renoir posted : Sunday, 10 January 2021 ______________________________________________________________________ “ I saw it happen to someone. I never shared a word with her. I never even learned her name. I heard “Sadie” one time, “Sabina” another, mentioned off-hand by people who were just as ignorant as myself, if not more. They claimed she’d transitioned. I didn’t think so. In retrospect, I didn’t want to think so. But then it started to make sense as signs emerged in small fits and starts, and to my surprise, I found I didn’t care that it was true. I suppose I wanted to care, but the want was an old one, and it felt stale in my mind. It was too weightless to bear at this stage of my life. If it was true
Og Hardclub charged down the trampled dirt path, skidding to a stop outside of the cave. "Elder!" He held up a slab of stone with lines etched into it. "Og make new thing!" The tribe's elder looked up from the fire he was tending. Even in an era where the amount of inventions could be counted on both hands - one of which was, in fact, counting - he was fairly sure that stone had already been invented. Still, it was best to give Og the benefit of the doubt. "What you make, Og?" "Og make way to say word to man!" "We -have- way say word to man," Krug Bonepile said, striding up. "This -new- way!" Og gestured to the surface of the stone. "Man put word on rock! Then new man see word on rock and know what old man say!" "So man say word to rock," the elder began, "then rock say word to new man." Og nodded. "Og call it... wri-ting." "What word can rock say with wri-ting?" Krug asked. "Many word!" He narrowed his eyes. "-All- word?" Og nodded eagerly. "All word! For all man!
"Denied." It was a very short letter, to say the least, though the letter itself said the least as it only used a single word to inform Zorkin that his manuscript would not be published. It was disconcerting, to say the least - as far as promising authors went, he was under the impression that he was at least partially respected among Gradvograd literary circles, and if not that, then at least tolerated by the Party's intellectual supporters. It was also somewhat curious, as no reasons were given; he was certain of this, as he had checked both sides of the letter no fewer than three times and fished the envelope out of the trash to make sure nothing else was in there. So, in search of answers, Zorkin set out into the city to locate the publishing house which had refused him which, conveniently, was the only publishing house. He crossed the threshold and spoke with the secretary, then was directed to an office further within, passing by Party-approved paintings by Party-approved
Money For Nothing (and Shrimps For Free) by zumberge, literature
Literature
Money For Nothing (and Shrimps For Free)
A lyrical tribute based upon Dire Straits' "Money For Nothing," dedicated to the hard working women of the video game streaming industry. If it's any consolation, it's written with a woman singer in mind; ideally, the singer would -be- a streamer, mostly because it completes the parallel with "Money for Nothing" - that is, a rock musician (Mark Knopfler, the original songwriter and singer) singing in the role of a working-class man talking about the easy life of rock musicians. I want my... I want my Twitch TV I want my... I want my Twitch TV I want my... I want my Twitch TV I want my... I want my Twitch TV [Verse 1] Now look at them brainlets, that's the way you do it You play some Minecraft on the Twitch TV That ain't workin', that's the way you do it Money for nothin' and your shrimps for free Now that ain't workin', that's the way you do it Lemme tell ya, them gals ain't dumb Maybe get a blister on your clickin' finger Maybe get a blister on your thumb [Chorus] We got to