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• #2752
New story is great, last sentence does it.
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• #2753
^This.
Also liked the line about sucking a rat's foot. Not sure why.
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• #2754
^^ definitely this.
It's Stirling Moss by the way, not Sterling.
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• #2755
Nice read, full of atmosphere. Feel like I need to watch a puddle freeze now.
We've got rats in/around our garden, pretty much the same situation but it's our neighbours bird feeders they're at...got an air rifle but not sure I'm keen on shooting them (our neighbour is up for it). The only thing I shoot is our hens when they get ill...not fun shooting things. -
• #2756
Good story.
Air rifle seems better than going after them with a spade (which I watched as a kid but never quite caught the frenzy enough to take part). Also seems better for the hens... My Dad used to wring their necks but next time around it'll probably fall to me. I don't relish that thought.
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• #2757
Stirling Moss use sealed a quality read for me
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• #2758
It's really good having LFGSS as my editors.
You lot say it how it is, pull my punctuation and spellings, let me know when my words are weak. I love it. I don't reckon I'd still be tapping it out if it wasn't for you lot.
I also love it when my stuff reminds people of their own experiences - killing hens with an air rifle?? Head shot? Intriguing...
Cheers for reading, lads and lasses. -
• #2759
sealed or spoiled? I will edit.
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• #2760
Sealed as in the context of a putdown. Balanced reality check. As if youd picked up on advertising cars on open roads in stunning mountain roads with soft tops and fit girls to people queuing up briggate
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• #2761
As if youd picked up on advertising cars on open roads in stunning mountain roads with soft tops and fit girls to people queuing up briggate
Now that's a sentence I like. Poetry, mate. Poetry.
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• #2762
Love that one Luci. Perfect length and I'm sure you're not a gun cunt.
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• #2763
killing hens with an air rifle?? Head shot? Intriguing...
hens don't move much when ill....when it's dark, point blank range back of the head....very quick which makes me feel better about it...strange experience, stops suffering, not nice though... would rather find a dodgy vet who'll give me a syringe and a bucket load of anaesthetic... Vets charge £20 a pop if you ask them to do it. We have rescued ex-battery hens, they don't always last long the poor things, would cost a fortune if we took them all to the vet at the end.
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• #2764
Loved the story, as always.
Got some sub editing for you:
Baited, not bated.
By, not buy.
And your apostrophe use in "it's" for possession is consistently wrong.
Gun cunt < grammar cunt?
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• #2765
Another good story. I like these better than the old tales of sodom.
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• #2766
This is the thread that just keeps on giving, thanks Luci
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• #2767
^^ I think I agree. I like the odd bit of sodom as much as the next man, but these are really great.
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• #2768
top read. cheers luci
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• #2769
strong work. very strong work.
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• #2770
Cheers mate - I think I've found all my rogue 'it's' now. They are a proper blind spot in my writing, I must brush up on stuff like that.
I rely on grammar cunts because I'm so bad at it!! Keep it up!
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• #2771
Also, I'm really chuffed the new stories are popular. I'm not sure they're stories about anything much, really, but that's the idea. It's things I've done that meant something, even if I don't know what that meaning is.
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• #2772
Much as I like the new stories, I'm still a fan of ear-fucking, Bogwanker and tales of drunken sodomy.
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• #2773
Yep, I like both. Variety is the spice of life and all that.
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• #2774
I like both. But I think the trilogy shows you've matured as a writer, as you're no longer relying on the bizarre characters at work to drive the narrative.
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• #2775
There is room for all genres in the Church of Lucifer.
All are welcome.
Brilliant stuff.
Reminded me of clearing a nest off my in-laws balcony, dressed head to toe in ski gear, in high summer.
Personally I'd gone out, in me shorts and vest, carrying the biggest hammer I could find. Causing serious damage to both myself and balcony. But my father in-law had supplied me with the clothes, a wall paper scrapper, and a strict plan. A plan he continously signalled from the safety of the other side of the balcony doors, while I slowly died of heat stroke.
....about the only stroke I got for my troubles.