Nuts.

[hackthis_archive]

I no can has pinch hit. :-( So. First ten people to drop me a pairing and an improv word will get a sentence of a story that doesn't exist. And by sentence I prolly mean like 100 words. Okay, I have my ten. No more! And before I forget:

Dearest Awesome Yuletide Writer Person:

I am out of town next week, but as soon as I can I will be sending you most slovering and effusive feedback.

<3,
Me.

Comments

[hackthis.livejournal.com]

There is no such thing as bad press. All press is good press. Even press about baby daddys and gay box office stars and putting a quarter in a Coke machine and getting your very own adopt-a-baby. Except that George doesn't want a baby. "Of course you want a baby," Ari protests, bouncing on George's bed and not thinking bad-dirty-wrong things. "Everybody wants a monster to corrupt! That's why Brad ran away with the surrogate, cos you didn't want a kid."

Ari ducks as a shoe comes flying out of George's closet. "I don't want a kid, Ari."

"I'll give you one of mine," Ari offers. "Half price!"

George walks out of the closet, his tie draped around his neck. "Ari, for the last time, no kids. I have you, I don't need another ankle biter."

[raveninthewind.livejournal.com]

Ahahahaha! Ari the Ankle Biter, perfect.

[mahaliem.livejournal.com]

Ari protests, bouncing on George's bed and not thinking bad-dirty-wrong things.

Ari is going to have to visit his wife afterwards.

I love how you do so much in so few words.