Wanda Pedersen > Recent Status Updates

"Now, if you were Nathaniel in a temper, being followed about by Joseph, what would you do?"
"I don't rightly know," said the Sergeant, staring.
"Then all I can say is you've taken more of a fancy to Joseph than I have. If I had a wind-bag like that on my tail, I'd lock my door, and very likely shove a heavy piece of furniture against it as well."

Dana clenches her jaw. Roland is a lovely man. And she'd rather chew aluminum foil than let him touch her again. Probably.

At first his mouth barely brushes hers. Dana is wary. Most men are utterly terrible at kissing. So much that she avoids this oral activity whenever possible. The moisture levels, the crushing pressure, the race to cram the greatest length of tongue muscle down her esophagus as aggressively as possible.

"How did Louise lose her foot?"
"Childbirth."
"Having a baby, or when she was a baby?"
Ben shrugs. "No one knows."

On an idly curious Sunday afternoon, she hooked up with one of those elderly penii, and while the staff was not exactly mighty, he was an undeniable wizard in bed. That octogenarian went down on her like he just about invented it. If she could ever be with the same man more than once, it would be Gandalf the Grey.

When next you eat a golden Peach
And lightly throw away the pit,
Consider how it shines with Life--
God dwelling in the midst of it.

God gave unto the Animals
A wisdom past our power to see;
Each knows innately how to live,
Which we must learn laboriously.

According to Adam One, the Fall of Man was multidimensional. The ancestral primates fell out of the trees; then they fell from vegetarianism into meat-eating. Then they fell from instinct into reason, and thus into technology; from simple signals into complex grammar, and thus into humanity; .... Then they fell from a joyous life in the moment into anxious contemplation of the vanished past and the distant future.

We praise the tiny perfect Moles
That garden underground;
The Ant, the Worm, the Nematode,
Wherever they are found.

Toby couldn't remember being hugged by a child. For the children it must have been a formality, like hugging a distant aunt, but for her it was something she couldn't define: fuzzy, softly intimate. Like being nuzzled by rabbits. But rabbits from Mars.

They all entered the house. To attend a fucking dinner party, with conversation and--Trystan shuddered--socializing.
It would surely end in murder.

It's as if I've walked into something written by Edgar Allan Poe, complete with ancestral seaside castle, a mysterious old woman, and a collection of family secrets.

It has just happened that I have found myself in the vicinity of murder rather more often than would seem normal.

"Just wait," said Becks. "When he gets really worked up, he swears in Cantonese. It's like listening to a macaw have a seizure."

Another guard was waiting there, this one holding a testing unit in each hand. I gave him a smile. He didn't give it back. "My man! Is it time to prove that we aren't planning to eat the other guests?"
"We have a strict policy of non-cannibalism here at the Agora," he replied.

While they waited to hear back from suppliers, Hands slipped Robles six rolls of toilet paper to swap for food. Humans were obsessed with toilet paper, and you could flip it for a lot of goods or coin.