Fictionlet

Jul. 2nd, 2014 07:44 am
the_gneech: (Jeeves Unsuitable)
"Oh, I found an answer to that question," Brigid said.

"And good day to you, Captain Out-of-Context," Greg replied. "Which question?"

"You remember a while back, I was wondering what the male equivalent of a 'fag hag' was?"

Greg winced. "I was hoping that had been merely a bad dream."

"Turns out the answer is 'lesbro,'" said Brigid.

"Don't tell me these things," said Greg.

"What's wrong with 'lesbro'?" she demanded. "It's a perfectly good slang term. Way better than 'fag hag.'" Greg merely gave a sort of soft whimper, and Brigid continued, "Typical, tho. The guys get a neutral or even guy-positive term, and the women get abuse."

"Excuse me," said Greg, "but I would very much like to be excused from the rest of this conversation now, please."

-The Gneech

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Fictionlet

May. 15th, 2014 11:34 am
the_gneech: (Writing)

“You can’t trust a thing kids say any more,” said Greg. “A bunch of girls outside just spend fifteen minutes telling me that London Bridge was falling down, falling down, falling down. But I checked the news, there’s nothing about it.”

“Uh huh,” said Brigid.

“Of course they might have just been confused,” he added. “They seemed to have mistaken me for an attractive woman.”

“I hope you realize,” said Brigid, “that this kind of malarkey is why you don’t have any friends except for that cat.”

“Harumph,” said Greg. “Ozymandias and I share a bond of true friendship, and tuna fish.”

“Don’t kid yourself,” said Brigid. “If Ozzie had opposable thumbs, you would be so evicted.”

-The Gneech

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Originally published at gneech.com. You can comment here or there.

Fictionlet

May. 15th, 2014 11:34 am
the_gneech: (Writing)

“You can’t trust a thing kids say any more,” said Greg. “A bunch of girls outside just spend fifteen minutes telling me that London Bridge was falling down, falling down, falling down. But I checked the news, there’s nothing about it.”

“Uh huh,” said Brigid.

“Of course they might have just been confused,” he added. “They seemed to have mistaken me for an attractive woman.”

“I hope you realize,” said Brigid, “that this kind of malarkey is why you don’t have any friends except for that cat.”

“Harumph,” said Greg. “Ozymandias and I share a bond of true friendship, and tuna fish.”

“Don’t kid yourself,” said Brigid. “If Ozzie had opposable thumbs, you would be so evicted.”

-The Gneech

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Originally published at gneech.com. You can comment here or there.

Fictionlet

Dec. 16th, 2013 09:29 am
the_gneech: (Kero shouting)

“I don’t know why, but I was thinking about Blame It on Rio last night,” said Alex.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” said Greg.

“You were thinking of what?” said Brigid.

Blame It on Rio,” said Alex. “Cheesy rom-com from the ’80s, had Michael Caine and Brooke Shields doing this May-to-September romance–”

“Not Brooke Shields,” said Greg. “It was Demi Moore.”

“Oh, wait, I remember that now,” said Brigid. “You’re thinking of Bo Derek.”

“No,” said Alex, “I’m pretty sure it was Brooke Shields. Anyway, her father and Michael Caine were like best friends, and Michael Caine’s wife was having an affair with Brooke Shields’s father while Michael Caine was having an affair with Brooke Shields.”

“Demi Moore,” said Greg.

“That movie did crazy things to my hormones when I was a kid,” said Alex.

“It certainly didn’t improve your long-term memory,” said Greg.

“Wait, I thought Blame It on Rio was the one where the guy spills Pepsi on his keyboard and suddenly his computer comes to life and starts fixing his love problems,” said Brigid.

“That was Electric Dreams,” said Greg.

“Then what was Woman In Red?”

“You mean who was the Woman in Red?” said Alex.

“Kelly LeBrock,” said Greg.

“Sigourney Weaver,” said Brigid.

“Kim Cattrall!” said Alex.

“Pam Dawber?” said Greg.

“Clara Peller,” said Brigid.

“Shields and Yarnell,” said Alex.

“Joe Isuzu!” said Greg.

“The Dunkin Donuts guy!” said Brigid.

There was a long pause.

“What were we talking about, again?” said Greg.

“Your long term memory’s not the greatest either, it seems,” said Brigid.

-The Gneech

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Originally published at gneech.com. You can comment here or there.

Fictionlet

Oct. 18th, 2013 10:51 am
the_gneech: (Default)

When driving a car on such a gorgeous day, there was no recourse but to roll all the windows down and sing at the top of one’s lungs, and Greg did so. “Non te deseram, non fraudabo te! Non infidelem, et non te deserant! Non te calamus, nolo dicere vale! Et ego nolo fallere laedere…”

Brigid, curled up in the far corner of the passenger seat looking vaguely like a long-dead spider, said, “Did you really just rick-roll me in Latin?”

“What’s ‘rick-roll’?” said Greg.

“You know,” said Brigid, “I could yank that wheel and run us into oncoming traffic. It would be easy. EASY! And no jury would ever convict me!”

“How can you be so cranky on a day like this?” said Greg.

-The Gneech

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Originally published at gneech.com. You can comment here or there.

Fictionlet

Oct. 14th, 2013 02:04 pm
the_gneech: (NIMH Scariest Icon)

“Halloween, Halloween, the most wonderful time of the year!” Greg said in a happy sing-song as he swooped in with the mail. “Check it out, a retro-style actual paper catalog of Halloween costumes!”

“Wow, there’s a blast from the past,” said Brigid. “Lemme see.”

“I thought you hated Halloween,” said Greg, dropping the catalog into her lap.

“I do,” said Brigid. “I just like catalogs.” She opened it up and started flipping through it. “Ugh. No. Gah! Jeeze, this is awful. This isn’t Halloween at all!”

“Hmm?” said Greg. “What is it?”

“Halloween is supposed to be spooky. This crap is all just stupid! Gory rubber body parts, prop roadkill, yuck. And what’s with these costumes? ‘Sexy nurse.’ ‘Sexy devil girl.’ ‘Sexy vampire girl.’”

Greg sighed. “Ah. Yes, I do hate that.”

“‘Sexy witch,’” Brigid continued. “‘Sexy pirate girl.’ ‘Sexy maid.’ ‘Sexy prison inmate.’ ‘Sexy nun.’”

“Too bad they don’t have ‘sexy celibate monk,’” said Greg.

“Think again, buster,” said Brigid, and showed Greg a page.

“I hate what our culture has become,” Greg replied.

-The Gneech

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Originally published at gneech.com. You can comment here or there.

Fictionlet

Oct. 2nd, 2013 03:05 pm
the_gneech: (Jeeves Strangle)

“My next book will be a non-fiction,” Greg said. “I’ve already got a contract and advance on the title alone.”

“Oh really!” said Brigid. “What is it?”

The World Is Going to Hell, and It’s Your Fault: A Bestseller.

“Um,” said Brigid.

“The subtitle is, If You’d Spanked Your Children, Obama Would Not Have Been Elected.”

Brigid just shook her head, finally managing to say, “…Wow. I assume you’ll be releasing this under a pseudonym.”

“Well naturally,” said Greg. “I’m also looking into an older, doughy guy to play me at book signings.”

“Of all the times I’ve wanted to kill you,” Brigid said, “this is the first time it was for the good of humanity.”

-The Gneech

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Originally published at gneech.com. You can comment here or there.

Fictionlet

Sep. 6th, 2013 09:46 am
the_gneech: (Jeeves Strangle)

“Exposure is the first step on the road to tolerance,” said Greg. “By spending time with people different from yourself, and getting to understand them, you learn to value who they are and what they believe.”

“Mmhmm…?” said Brigid.

“However, having spent the entire weekend at your family reunion, I have come to the conclusion that yes, you’re right, most of your family is made up of horrible people the world would be a better place without.”

“I told you,” said Brigid.

-The Gneech

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Originally published at gneech.com. You can comment here or there.

Fictionlet

Sep. 3rd, 2013 09:20 am
the_gneech: (Alex Spaz)

Brigid slammed open the door. “Greg! Greg, you miserable little popinjay, don’t just sit there staring at me with your mouth hanging open, get up! Come on! We’re celebrating!”

Greg blinked at his obviously-already-sloshed roommate, as outside one of Brigid’s co-workers honked the horn of his car several times to hurry along proceedings. “Hello? What brings on all this indecent merriment?” said Greg.

“The entire office is having a party,” Brigid said, “and we’re all supposed to bring guests. Since I don’t have a date, I’m taking you. Now come on!”

“Yes, yes,” said Greg, standing. “I get that part. What I want to know is why?”

“It’s huge!” said Brigid. “It’s colossal. It’s a first in the entire history of the company and quite possibly in the history of American business!”

What is?” demanded Greg.

“You won’t believe it,” said Brigid. “I e-mailed a client about a work order they sent over…”

“Yes…?”

“And they sent me a reasonable response!”

Greg sank back into his chair. “…for real? You wouldn’t lie to me about something like this?”

“You should have seen my boss!” Brigid said. “She wept openly.”

“I don’t blame her,” said Greg.

-The Gneech

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Originally published at gneech.com. You can comment here or there.

Fictionlet

Aug. 20th, 2013 09:53 am
the_gneech: (Writing)

“‘Gone are the days when you could expect your reader to hang around waiting for the story to get good,’” said Greg, reading a blog post on his laptop screen. “‘Today’s busy editors and readers want to get to the good stuff right away.’”

Brigid rolled her eyes. “Let me guess: another post on crafting the perfect opening sentence?”

Greg didn’t answer directly, merely kept reading. “‘It used to be that crafting the perfect opening sentence was the key to getting published. But even that’s not good enough any more– these days, you have to grab the editor with your very first word! How many manuscripts have started with a lackluster The?’”

Brigid narrowed her eyes. “Seriously?”

“‘You should never begin with an article. The readers want to know your hero. They want to see action from the very first syllable! Try to begin with a word that conveys strong emotion, such as bleeding or gunshots.’”

“You’re making this up, aren’t you?” said Brigid.

Greg raised a finger, continuing to read. “‘Above all else, make sure the very first letter of your story is a hard consonant. Never start with a vowel or a weak consonant such as H, S, or W.’”

Brigid shook her head and headed for the kitchen. “The need to fill column space has wreaked more evil upon the world than malice ever did.”

Greg continued reading aloud, apparently enthralled. “‘The letter R is good because it sounds like the growling of a dangerous animal, but your best bet is probably a T, P, or an elusive Q to create a sense of mystery.’”

-The Gneech

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Originally published at gneech.com. You can comment here or there.

Fictionlet

Aug. 7th, 2013 09:22 am
the_gneech: (Jeeves Strangle)

“Wait,” said Brigid. “You’re not writing another sequel to Retrograde Maneuvers? It’s your biggest success so far.”

“I know,” said Greg, “and I fully intend to go back to that, but this horror novel idea has really grabbed me, so to speak. Like Mary Shelley did with Frankenstein, I think I could really explore not just what means to be human, but how to–”

“When do they have sex?” said Brigid. “The marketers will need to know.”

“Uh, what?” said Greg.

“The vampire and the werewolf, when do they have sex?”

“You mean, like, with each other?” said Greg.

Brigid shifted her weight, switching into lecture mode. “I don’t know that much about literary fic, I realize, but I can teach you something about publishing horror. Where in the story the vampire and the werewolf have sex determines your genre, and in publishing, genre is everything. If it happens in act three, it’s ‘fantasy/horror.’ If it happens in act two, it’s ‘paranormal romance.’”

“There aren’t actually any vampires or werew–”

“If it’s acts one, two, and three, of course, it’s porn. Which honestly, is your best bet for sales. I can suggest some authors if you want to study their technique.”

“Yes, well,” said Greg. “You’ve certainly taught me something about publishing horror.”

“That’s what friends are for,” said Brigid.

-The Gneech

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Originally published at gneech.com. You can comment here or there.

Fictionlet

May. 22nd, 2013 01:42 pm
the_gneech: (Classic Style)

“So I have this shaving cream…” said Greg.

“Promising start to a conversation,” replied Brigid.

“Hush, let me finish my sentence,” said Greg. “So I have this shaving cream, marketed specifically and in bold letters ‘For Men!’ which, for some inexplicable reason, is this day-glo neon blue color.”

“What, like gel toothpaste blue?” said Brigid.

“Yeah, pretty much like that,” replied Greg. “And I can’t help but wonder, what are the thought processes that led to this? I mean, did they have a focus group, where a bunch of guys came together and said, ‘Yeah, I really like this shaving cream, but I wish it was more comic-book-radiation-leak colored!’ or what?”

Brigid smirked. “Well obviously, day-glo neon blue is a very masculine color. Shaving cream for women is all pastel pink. All of it. No exceptions.”

“And it’s not like the color is even indicated on the packaging!” said Greg, warming to the topic. “So how can it be a marketing element? You don’t discover that it’s the color of something you’d never want on your face until after you’ve bought and opened it. Therefore, it has to be intended to get guys to buy that same shaving cream again. ‘I remember that shaving cream, it was neon blue! I’m getting that one!’”

“Maybe they’re depending on the fact that guys are, overall, a bunch of idiots.”

“Or the marketing team are all a bunch of idiots themselves.”

“They’re probably guys, aren’t they?” said Brigid.

“You’ve got me there,” said Greg.

-The Gneech

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Originally published at gneech.com. You can comment here or there.

Fictionlet

May. 13th, 2013 03:54 pm
the_gneech: (Shush)

“I was over hipsters before being over hipsters was cool,” said Greg.

“No, no, stop right there,” said Brigid. “That’s too obvious. Too cliché. You’re just phoning it in, now.”

“Aw, c’mon,” said Greg. “Do you realize how hard it is to be have just the right amount of world-weary cool while still maintaining a kind of innocent charm? It’s not easy, what I do!”

“Well it’s too late now,” said Brigid. “You just blew the whole thing. Toss it and start over.”

“Um…” Greg shrugged. “No idea. I got nothing.”

“So you’re going for straight-up nihilism, now?”

“A-ha! I’ve got it!” said Greg, and cleared his throat. “Being a coffee-loving hipster is hard. I just burned my mouth because I drank my coffee before it was cool.”

Brigid just stared at Greg, flatly. “Go back to phoning it in,” she finally said.

-The Gneech

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Originally published at gneech.com. You can comment here or there.

Fictionlet

May. 3rd, 2013 10:13 am
the_gneech: (Kero class)

“Do a little dance,” said Greg. “Make a little love. Get down tonight.”

“You can’t make me,” said Brigid.

“Well, no,” said Greg, “I just thought I’d suggest it.”

-The Gneech

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Originally published at gneech.com. You can comment here or there.

Fictionlet

Apr. 30th, 2013 10:15 am
the_gneech: (Jeeves Strangle)

“So I’m going to pick up some dinner,” said Greg. “I can grab some for you too if you want. Would you prefer pizza or Chinese?”

“Ugh,” said Brigid, staring at her laptop on the table. “Not another decision. I’ve been making decisions all day. I’m worn out!”

“Well that’s not surprising,” said Greg. “It’s a dangerous and wearisome business, making decisions.”

“‘Dangerous and wearisome’?” said Brigid, raising an eyebrow.

“Every time you make a decision, you split the timeline, creating another alternate universe,” said Greg. “Formal wear or business casual? Universe. Less filling, or tastes great? Universe. Stuffing, or potatoes? Universe. When you stop to think about it, it’s an awesome and terrible power! You create not just worlds, but whole new universes! You are like unto a goddess! Of course it’s going to wear you out.”

Brigid just gave Greg a smirk. “Right. Well the goddess wants pizza,” she said.

“Oooooh!” said Greg. “And the Chinese takeout universe implodes under a collapsed waveform! Pizza it is. Billions of lives snuffed out; billions of new lives created. I won’t tempt fate by asking what toppings you want, I’ll go with the usual.”

“You do that,” said Brigid. “Meanwhile, the goddess is going to go take a nap.”

“I shall inform your supplicants, Your Terrible Majesty,” Greg said, pulled on his coat, and stepped out.

-The Gneech

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Originally published at gneech.com. You can comment here or there.

Fictionlet

Dec. 4th, 2012 01:35 pm
the_gneech: (Jeeves Strangle)

Greg blinked at the little slip of paper. “Okay, that’s probably the weirdest fortune cookie I’ve ever seen.”

“Hmm?” said Brigid. “What does it say?”

Greg shrugged. “It says, ‘All your friends just lost The Game. Ask them why.’”

“Gaaah, dammit!” said Brigid.

“Huh?” said Greg.

-The Gneech

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Originally published at gneech.com. You can comment here or there.

Fictionlet

Nov. 19th, 2012 11:43 am
the_gneech: (Jeeves Strangle)

“So, are you ready for Thanksgiving?” asked Isadora as she walked into the apartment.

“Mom! Thank God you’re here!” said Brigid, hustling Isadora into the living room. “You’ve gotta help me!”

Isadora raised her eyebrows. “What’s the matter, dear?”

“Greg watched a Star Trek: The Next Generation marathon over the weekend and now he won’t stop making references to it. He’s in the kitchen right now, chopping up cabbage to ‘Make it slaw!’”

“Greg hates coleslaw, doesn’t he?” said Isadora.

“Yes!” said Brigid. “But you know as well as I do that wouldn’t stop him when he gets like this!”

At this point, Greg opened the shutters of the pass-through from the kitchen, and put a pumpkin pie on the counter. With a very serious expression and a very bad Michael Dorn impression, he said, “Today is a good day to pie!” before disappearing back into the kitchen.

Isadora watched him go, then turned to Brigid. “Don’t worry, I’ve got a gun in my car. I’ll be right back.”

“Great, mom, thanks!” Brigid said as her mother headed for the door.

-The Gneech

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Originally published at gneech.com. You can comment here or there.

Fictionlet

Aug. 28th, 2012 01:05 pm
the_gneech: (Jeeves Strangle)

Brigid slumped into the couch, causing Ozymandias to flee from the splash. “Ugh,” she said. “I get laid off, break a tooth, the car breaks down halfway home forcing us to walk in the rain, and finally we have to pay the apartment complex $35 to let us into our own place because we’ve both lost our keys. This has been the worst day ever.”

“Eh, it’s not so bad,” said Greg. “You could have woken up with ‘Stacy’s Mom Has Got It Goin’ On’ going through your head.”

Brigid shuddered, turning visibly pale. “Oh God,” she said. “Don’t even joke about something like that.”

-The Gneech

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Originally published at gneech.com. You can comment here or there.

Fictionlet

Jul. 24th, 2012 11:18 am
the_gneech: (Jeeves Strangle)

To: Brigid
From: Mandy
Subject: Document Estimate

We need an estimate on creating a document; please get this in by COB today. Thanks.

To: Mandy
From: Brigid
Subject: re: Document Estimate

Details, please. What kind of document, what is it for?

To: Brigid
From: Mandy
Subject: re: re: Document Estimate

It’s for a proposal. Don’t worry, this is just an estimate, we won’t hold you to it. Please get this in for COB today.

To: Mandy
From: Brigid
Subject: re: re: re: Document Estimate

I’ve heard “we won’t hold you to it” before. Please give me more details; I can’t give you a reliable estimate with all these unknown variables.

To: Brigid
From: Mandy
Subject: re: re: re: re: Document Estimate

Can you detail the unknown variables you’re referring to?

To: Mandy
From: Brigid
Subject: re: re: re: re: re: Document Estimate

Please specify which unknown variable you would like details on.

To: Brigid
From: Mandy
Subject: re: re: re: re: re: Document Estimate

I don’t have time for push-back on this. It’s due by COB today.

To: Mandy
From: Brigid
Subject: re: re: re: re: re: re: Document Estimate

Fine. The document will take 100 hours.

To: Brigid
From: Mandy
Subject: re: re: re: re: re: re: Document Estimate

100 hours is a completely unreasonable estimate for this project. We’re looking for something like 4 hours.

To: Mandy
From: Brigid
Subject: re: re: re: re: re: re: re: Document Estimate

If you knew the number you wanted, why did you even ask me?

To: Brigid
From: Mandy
Subject: re: re: re: re: re: re: re: Document Estimate

Because the creation of documents is your department’s role. We have to have your sign-off on the estimate. So, 4 hours to create a document? This is due COB today.

To: Mandy
From: Brigid
Subject: re: re: re: re: re: re: re: re: Document Estimate

Until you tell me more about this document, I’m standing by my 100 hour estimate. How long is it? Three pages or 300? How many collaborators are involved? Is it a pamphlet, a book, a website, what?

To: Brigid
From: Mandy
Subject: re: re: re: re: re: re: re: re: Document Estimate

I am very upset by how uncooperative you are being. This thing is due COB today, why are you wasting time! I told you 100 hours was completely unreasonable. Please revise your estimate to 4 hours.

To: Mandy
From: Brigid
Subject: re: re: re: re: re: re: re: re: re: Document Estimate

My estimate is 200 hours.

To: Brigid
From: Mandy
Subject: re: re: re: re: re: re: re: re: re: Document Estimate

Why are you doing this??? It’s COB now I’m putting in that you estimated 4 hours.

To: Mandy
From: Brigid
Subject: re: re: re: re: re: re: re: re: re: re: Document Estimate

Why won’t you tell me what it is??? And I want it on the record that I did not estimate 4 hours.

To: Brigid
From: Frank
Subject: Way Over Budget

Why did you charge 35 hours on this document? According to the proposal, it should have been 4 hours. Please be ready to explain in a meeting at 2:30.

To: Frank
From: Brigid
Subject: re: Way Over Budget

Please see attached.

To: Brigid
From: Frank
Subject: re: re: Way Over Budget

I don’t see the issue. It looks to me like it should have taken four hours.

To: Brigid
From: Facilities
Subject: Broken Chair/Window

Please do not throw any more chairs out windows. It is very dangerous and expensive to replace.

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Originally published at gneech.com. You can comment here or there.

Fictionlet

May. 17th, 2012 09:50 am
the_gneech: (Jeeves Strangle)

“So how about that Irene Adler episode of Sherlock?” said Alex, scooping a handful of pretzel sticks out of a bowl that walked by. “Was that awesome or what?”

“Eh,” said Greg, as if it were a subject he’d rather not talk about, “I dunno…”

“Oh, here it comes,” said Alex. “Let me guess, you think it’s too sexy, right? You hate that they dare put eroticism into your oh-so-intellectual Sherlock Holmes stories, don’t you?”

“Well, no,” said Greg, “that’s not it. I mean, I don’t like that, but I’ve pretty much come to expect it from anything on television– everyone in show business is constantly giggling like a 13-year-old about how ‘naughty’ they are. Why should Sherlock be any different? That’s not what bugged me about it, but I haven’t quite put my finger on what it was.”

“How about this?” said Brigid, and swigged her drink. “They pretend to make Irene Adler a ‘strong woman’ by turning her into a dominatrix, specifically for the purpose of knocking her back down again. How about, for having the gall to be so uppity that she actually gets a brief advantage over Sherlock, she has to go all fluttery over him, then get swatted and crushed into crying and begging? How about the way at the end she’s finally kneeling in a freakin’ burqa, where she gets rescued like a goddamn damsel in distress because Sherlock had the ‘grace’ to be merciful after putting a whore in her place? How about because it’s the same damn misogynistic crap, just with a fresh coat of paint?”

Greg blinked at Brigid for a moment, then said, “Yeah, I think that might be it.”

-The Gneech

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Originally published at gneech.com. You can comment here or there.

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