March 3, 2007.
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I went walking tonight. The moon was heavy and full, almost too bright. I was thinking about some things:
vacant houses people leave with all the lights on,
my vacation next week...
I was also thinking about a short story I want to write called "The Request Line." It's the erotic story of a disc jockey named Charlie Grease, and his sexual conquests via the request line at the local rock radio station where he works. I haven't written a word of the story yet, but I have composed the disclaimer:
WARNING: The following story is merely an excuse to describe scenes of gratuitous sex in pornographic detail. Many readers may find it disturbing...everyone one else will be whipped into an orgiastic furry.