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Comments we get…

Theyre right on top of us, and Savous and Hyle are both on the surface. Salin had accepted that from the time hed first seen his brother as a babe. Eyrhaens inability to control her gifts has brought about changes that should benefit us all. Eyrhaen thought to watch Tykir suck him. She was the one to blame. Be proud of what you just accomplished. But maybe we could eat first? A soothing warmth pulsed within her, her goddesss spell primed. Even after all shed done to push them away, they were still there for her. I realize just saying it isnt enough, but I have to start somewhere. Goddess, the raw physical power of him was intoxicating. Did you mean what you said before? Thoughts rolled over one another in her head. Both Brevin and Tykir burst out laughing. Chuckling, Brevin slid arms around Tykirs chest. She ended up draped over his chest, her cheek resting over his heartbeat. You may be different, but you most certainly belong. I was, for all intents and purposes, dead for an endless time. As shed known she would, she melted. No more magic than whats natural?

WTF! We at Cats have a robustly liberal comments policy. Say what you like as long as it ain’t spam or liable to have the Kitty Kounters becoming bar counters. If it’s the first time you’ve commented your comment may take a while to turn-up. We moderate new commentators. This is for your own enjoyment because it enables us to tell if you have something to say (and say pretty much anything – I do) or whether you want to sell iffy viagra. I only mention this because a coupla days ago I had to approve 6 new comments one morning. All to the point and, folks, please return and sorry it took a while but this is not all we do. A blog without comments is like masturbating over a used jazz-mag you found under a hedge* compared to making love to a beautiful woman. I mean it gets the job done but what is the point?

*Money doesn’t grow on trees (can someone please tell Alistair Darling that) but male-interest “reading” material flourishes under hedges. Leeds is particularly good for it. Bordeaux has it’s grapes, Switzerland has it’s spaghetti but West Yorkshire has it’s Frankie Vaughn harvest. “Come to West Yorkshire and dredge our hedges for left-handed reading material!” It might as well be their tourism slogan because there is fuck-all else to do in Leeds (the “Milan of the North” – I almost choked on a pint of beer when I first saw that and I was with a bloke from Milan at the time) and Bradford is I think rightly styling itself these days as the Mogadishu of the West. My wife knew a bloke when she was a student in Leeds who broke an ankle going to a lecture. He walked out one fine morning and fell because some scrote had half-inched the doorstep during the night. Meanwhile the least said about Huddersfield the soonest mended…


  1. CountingCats says:


    I wasn’t sure whether to delete that one or let it through. I ended up taking the easy way and let it sit in the queue for a while.

    Looks like comment spam to me.

  2. RAB says:

    Looks like it belongs on the Skunk thread to me!
    Someone has surely been smoking way to much of the stuff.

    That is utter drivel, and badly written drivel at that.
    Jesus you guys have been featuring John Donne of late, and someone turns up with that?!!

  3. Roue le Jour says:

    Sorry, I’m confused. Is this an excerpt from Pachauri’s book?

  4. RAB says:

    Tee Hee!
    Like your thinking there, Roue Le Jour.

    Coming to a remainder bin near you soon!

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