Every member of this chatroom knows I write extremely graphic (but tasteful) Lord of the Rings erotic fan fiction. What most of you do not know is that, in case my apartment building burns down, I always carry a USB with my life’s work saved on it. And … yesterday … yesterday I lost the USB at a Baskin-Robbins.

I called her,

Lily on 1st April,

Julie on 15th,

Rekha on 3rd May.

She didn’t complain, yell, or punch me in the face.

The verdict on the last featured menu item had been given, (“These maple turkey necks are through the roof and out the chimney”). Moments later, as it had hundreds of thousands of times previously, the iconic ’67 Camaro convertible—driven by the show’s host Guy Fieri—sped into frame.

You have matched with Ariel

6:03am: In my recurring dream, I’ve been transformed from a dinner plate into a decorative plate. I’m mounted on the kitchen wall, imperiously looking down at the workaday dishware as they toil away. No one speaks to me. No one places anything upon me. Passersby admire my rendering of the Queen Mum on her 90th birthday.