tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-86632133620792253692011-08-04T06:42:26.355-07:00A place to dump my brain when it hits overload.A.N.Onymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01734534971335865489noreply@blogger.comBlogger431100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8663213362079225369.post-66004393721752977482010-09-17T10:53:00.000-07:002010-09-17T10:53:21.313-07:00

So here I sit.  Hot tears streaming down my face.  My throat raw with the need to scream.Muscles quivering with unspent anger. I feel like a caged beast too long tormented.  I want to bleed.  I want to show the pain I carry. The phone rings, buzzing insistently.  The first shriek tears itself loose from the handset.  My breath catches, my heart jumps into overdrive.   I try to unscramble the

Daniel Caseyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02087685109092478482noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8663213362079225369.post-17264806892989455202010-09-06T04:10:00.000-07:002010-09-06T04:10:46.991-07:00

Hello anybody who might be hopefully following this little corner of the Net'Verse. I must apologize for my absence from these forums, but I've been busy.  First, it's summer, so there's an insane amount physically demanding tasks that take up large amounts of time, meaning less time to create and write.  Second, the last three things I've written are unsuitable for a general audience so I can't

Daniel Caseyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02087685109092478482noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8663213362079225369.post-72946576844628406582010-07-27T09:19:00.000-07:002010-07-27T09:19:06.124-07:00

(A Flash Fiction Contest Entry, once again I didn't win, but I do like this one.) She was flushed, hot with anticipation.  This secret tryst had been a long time coming, and everything had to be just right. The windows were slightly open, the scents of fresh hay mingling with the vanilla and lavender from the candle. The deep red sheets trimmed in gold were turned down ever so perfectly.  The

A.N.Onymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01734534971335865489noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8663213362079225369.post-88128346895239639942010-07-24T22:50:00.000-07:002010-07-24T22:51:46.539-07:00

Flying with the Gods of Torque Flash Fiction ( 281 words) The sun gleamed off her dark golden hair. It reminded him of the color of ripe wheat in the fields back home where he practiced. Sweating and cursing inside his racing leathers, Jake waited impatiently for Kellie to be finished with the tweaks and get him back on the track. His competitors were thundering past eating up his two lap lead

A.N.Onymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01734534971335865489noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8663213362079225369.post-9075286625601011132010-07-24T22:49:00.000-07:002010-07-24T22:49:08.407-07:00

A New DirectionFlash Fiction (280 Words)Jerking awake, Jake felt the whole sailboat roll to port as a massive incoming swell lifted the wooden vessel over thirty feet straight up, the bow dipping briefly then recovering as the strain on the anchor chain caused it to snap clean off. The sound of the tortured metal apparently summoning a fog and rain on the instant. "What is going on?" He wondered

A.N.Onymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01734534971335865489noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8663213362079225369.post-85600424382351795972010-07-24T22:47:00.000-07:002010-07-24T22:47:05.392-07:00

Frozen In History (995 words) As he drove the ice pick deep into the caves vertical face, hanging from the slenderest of lines, Aaron thought back on how he ended up here on his honeymoon. His shy and retiring bride had turned out to be not quite so retiring as she would have everyone think. Aaron had set up a relaxing tour of Greece and the surrounding islands, but as they were getting ready

A.N.Onymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01734534971335865489noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8663213362079225369.post-42460985637799302452010-07-24T22:46:00.001-07:002010-07-24T22:46:10.121-07:00

Choices and motivations of a darker weaker spirit July 20th entry for the Writer's Cramp (874 words) He picked up the rattan sword, hefting it easily in his left hand. The training grounds where he was meeting his contact were dusty and windswept, the sun-baked Texas clay almost as hard as the concrete of the buildings it surrounded. Dave had asked him to be here at nine in the morning,

A.N.Onymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01734534971335865489noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8663213362079225369.post-62762601242373437752010-07-24T22:44:00.001-07:002010-07-24T22:44:51.657-07:00

Timing is Everything Flash Fiction(296 words) As I shifted the the old freight-liner down into first gear, pulling off for fuel, I wondered again what could be so valuable? Posting an armed guard inside the trailer broke more rules than I could count. This contract trucking business meant some odd contracts, but this one was by far the strangest I'd had yet. "Fred, we need to find us a stable

A.N.Onymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01734534971335865489noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8663213362079225369.post-21709405900482651292010-07-24T22:43:00.001-07:002010-07-24T22:43:17.489-07:00

Stung Awake He could feel the ground, hard and cold beneath his back. He was confused, wondering why he was on the ground at all. The last thing he could remember was being up on the roof, he was pulling sheet metal off to replace it, and the last sheet he had pulled up, right at the edge of the roof, was hiding a beehive in the trim. He grunted the sequence of events came back to him. He

A.N.Onymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01734534971335865489noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8663213362079225369.post-44979207288165597582010-07-24T22:42:00.000-07:002010-07-24T22:42:08.996-07:00

Less One Count Flash Fiction (269 words) Angelina looked up from her morning tea, "Phillip, what is it? You look pale." "I slept badly I'm afraid, today's hunt will have to be postponed." Crown prince Phillip, replied. "This is about that mercenary becoming a Count isn't it dear?" Phillip looked at his consort, grateful for her blunt manners. Again she had cut through the court's

A.N.Onymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01734534971335865489noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8663213362079225369.post-34038353643581911232010-07-24T22:40:00.001-07:002010-07-24T22:40:26.340-07:00

Hi People.  If you like it here, great, if not tell me why, I'm only an e-mail away, and three words or three hundred, either will make my day.  *grin* Contact me at the following e-mails, either one will work daniel.o.casey@gmail.com Andre.Nonymous.2009@gmail.com I'll go update the sidebar in a minute. Now, having said that, I've been thinking that this is a great place to put the things I

A.N.Onymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01734534971335865489noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8663213362079225369.post-53562171667513953812010-07-11T14:16:00.000-07:002010-07-11T14:16:18.471-07:00

Hi all.  I was daydreaming the other day, and this story line somewhat came to me out of the clouds, literally. There I was staring up at the clouds, thinking random thoughts (like meditation except that I am on my back staring straight up into the sky while the children gambol and caper around me in the yard. I saw a cloud formation, somewhat like a fat horseshoe shape with a very bulgy middle

Daniel Caseyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02087685109092478482noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8663213362079225369.post-29129630689232898872010-06-30T12:51:00.000-07:002010-06-30T12:51:22.930-07:00

I know it's been done, maybe to death as a sci-fi thing.  But what about a character focused take on it? What would humanity look like to an outside race?  We look at other cultures like they're some form of alien creation rather than a divergent track of evolution.  So, thinking further afield than that, what would we look like to an alien species? First, what would we focus on? the culture

Daniel Caseyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02087685109092478482noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8663213362079225369.post-27715132563227397912010-06-29T12:18:00.000-07:002010-06-29T12:18:27.969-07:00

In the interests of complete honesty, I have cross posted this on both blogs, here and here, because I put it up on the writing site, then felt that it might be better situated on the how to deal with life side of my whining.  Back to the actual typing now. Ok, wow. I was just thinking lately about what I was feeling and how overwhelming life has been of late. Then I read this post. Humbling.

Daniel Caseyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02087685109092478482noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8663213362079225369.post-17394602832470492812010-06-22T06:40:00.000-07:002010-06-22T06:40:50.862-07:00

The title sums it all up. I feel like a handfull of darts that were thrown off a cliff, I'm fracturing and heading off in too many directions all at one time. I posted the other day about trying to re-dedicate myself to a goal or two, and since then I've been scattering worse than a handful of marbles in a skateboard pool. I wanted to focus on writing, but all I'm doing is reading about

Daniel Caseyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02087685109092478482noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8663213362079225369.post-65010198009181415302010-06-07T09:50:00.000-07:002010-06-07T09:50:37.045-07:00

Well, the trip to Vancouver wasn't as productive as I thought it might be, seeing as how I was suddenly riding herd on the bulk of the boys on the trip, and the simple nature of the beast is that I was the driver, the one in charge, the navigator and one of only two men in the whole sequence of things that was willing to go. So, in short, not a blessed moment to write. I made a choice to try

A.N.Onymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01734534971335865489noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8663213362079225369.post-35042209572640547042010-05-31T01:48:00.000-07:002010-05-31T01:48:18.807-07:00

Dust. Mud or dust. The only two things in this damned country. That and cows. God I wish I had never agreed with Carol to move out here for the baby. The house on the hill, and the countryside is a good thing, it's much better than the cramped quarters we had in the city back east. But, damnit I miss the life, the energy, the excitement. It's boring here. Yesterday I got up and walked the

A.N.Onymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01734534971335865489noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8663213362079225369.post-4263159318254711712010-05-18T16:05:00.001-07:002010-05-18T16:05:38.564-07:00

“Commander, there seems to be a problem” This blunt statement interrupted my pleasant reverie of last night's entertainment. “Joe? We've been on this crate together for your entire adult life, can't you relax the formality just a little? My name is Sam.” “Yes comm..., sorry, Sam.” came the reply from inside the headset of my science officer. Don't get me wrong, Joe is a good enough cat,

A.N.Onymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01734534971335865489noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8663213362079225369.post-29723466780296885222010-05-11T22:30:00.000-07:002010-05-11T22:30:05.192-07:00

Author's insert. This is the first one I've ever done.  I have quickly edited it, and proofed it.  But I was waiting to hear back about if it was any good, and the three I asked never answered me.  So I take it to mean that it sucked, but there you have it.  I like it.  So there. And the Story. ************************************ JibJab's Release “Jibjab, we need you downstairs.” The

A.N.Onymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01734534971335865489noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8663213362079225369.post-56568662835725382462010-05-04T15:15:00.000-07:002010-05-04T15:15:11.484-07:00

Hiya all. In an effort to hone my ability to write, fast and accurate, impact resistant and all that, I'm going to start putting flash fiction up here, I'm aiming for at least one per week.  I can send them from wherever I am on the globe via my phone, so hopefully this will work out.  I can't say for certain what genre they might fall into, or what tone, and all that, but I"ll give it my best

A.N.Onymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01734534971335865489noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8663213362079225369.post-87233339552358240552010-05-02T21:59:00.000-07:002010-05-02T21:59:12.907-07:00

Wa whooo.... I gone done did it.  *grin*  made 100 pages of script in April, barely, and only by sheerest willpower some days.  'specially since we're busiest at that time of year anyhow. So, as I mentioned, goodness knows how many posts ago, I was going to try doing script frenzy, now I don't claim to have enjoyed it as much as novel writing, and I'm not sure I like writing scripts, (format is

A.N.Onymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01734534971335865489noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8663213362079225369.post-60166983855081552612010-05-02T21:21:00.001-07:002010-05-02T21:21:20.507-07:00

Well, you heard it. This is just a test post to see if and how this thing / process works.Thanks for reading.Andre.

A.N.Onymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01734534971335865489noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8663213362079225369.post-44673742654981834882010-04-29T11:29:00.001-07:002010-04-29T11:29:47.684-07:00

It's amazing what a person can achieve when they have enough energy drinks and some moderate determination, I've pulled a major push and put out 30 pages in the last 24 hours, and the next 24 will see me finished, ish. see:  http://www.scriptfrenzy.org/eng/user/539286 k, gotta get back to work. Andre

A.N.Onymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01734534971335865489noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8663213362079225369.post-79975084049063231682010-04-28T12:52:00.000-07:002010-04-28T12:52:13.649-07:00

Should I try to do it? God only knows if I can make it. There are three days left in April, I need 50 pages, that's about 20 pages per day to be safe. so couple of hours each night.  I think I can make it, but.... oh hell, I don't know.  I've gotta get to work here, I'll let it percolate and then I'll be back to deal with what I'm feeling. it's three hours since I wrote the first two lines

A.N.Onymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01734534971335865489noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8663213362079225369.post-66528860837946118562010-04-24T10:21:00.000-07:002010-04-24T10:21:15.882-07:00

I will make it as a writer of fiction and other things.  I will sell something I wrote. Now, having said that, I only have a couple of things in progress so far, most of the great ideas are floating around in my head, and that's were they've been for quite some time. Umm...  First, to write. Second to learn to review. Third to learn to market one's self and one's work Finally, to cash cheques

A.N.Onymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01734534971335865489noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8663213362079225369.post-29100546831291986922010-04-20T10:49:00.000-07:002010-04-20T10:49:56.842-07:00

We live in an internet age, where most anybody who's under 80 years old knows what the internet is, and anybody who spends any time on the internet, for work or play, will know what a domain name is. You have to pay domain hosts to carry your name, etc, etc.  It's all about money. So in my typical fashion, I've transposed the letters again, and the image that sprang to mind was  was _odd_ to

A.N.Onymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01734534971335865489noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8663213362079225369.post-56395830687922693032010-04-13T09:45:00.000-07:002010-04-23T15:08:22.793-07:00

A limerick, I thought I'd try to write a poem to my love, but, well, I'm not real classy, so here goes. Self-Worth There once was a boy from Burks Falls Who didn't have near enough balls, But he moved to BC And there found his Sweetie, Now he feels almost ten feet tall. what do you think?  I actually chuckled out loud when I read it back to myself.  it's soo very bad, but it's a start,

A.N.Onymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01734534971335865489noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8663213362079225369.post-66081489167374023072010-04-03T10:54:00.000-07:002010-04-03T10:54:38.214-07:00

Yup, I've caved, I need a plot outline, even in brief, to make this script thing work. umm... not sure what or where to go with it all, So far we have Jamie at the Dam realizing things are getting bad, and Mike in the tower, about to get a call from Jamie. So, we have this little town Northfork, and the reservoir is boiling, and it's damaging the concrete dam, threatening the town, (this gives

A.N.Onymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01734534971335865489noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8663213362079225369.post-7411839450947469122010-03-25T12:32:00.000-07:002010-03-25T12:32:28.768-07:00

Let me open this blog entry by stating that I have no idea where it is headed. That's why I am typing it in a wordprocessor, I'll upload it to the correct blogsite later on. (writing? higher thoughts on consciousness and life? or petulant whining?) Ok, it's probably not the petulant whining, but the other two are open game right now. Although I'm leaning towards setting out a rudimentary

A.N.Onymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01734534971335865489noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8663213362079225369.post-73877957807829593712010-03-04T17:16:00.000-08:002010-03-04T17:16:44.705-08:00

October, 27, 2009. That was the date of the first post on here.  I just reread it and realized that while my conscious intentions of late were to use this place to air my creative jaunts, the original stated purpose was to give those pesky little voices in my head somewhere to be heard. Nothing to do with my super-ego at all, but rather a sandbox for Andre Nonymous' back brain personalities to

A.N.Onymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01734534971335865489noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8663213362079225369.post-89431368038992727062010-02-22T23:22:00.000-08:002010-02-22T23:22:06.109-08:00

Hey y'all, since I can't justify submitting this to the actual NaNoWriMo site, so I thought I'd put up my wrimo report  here for the edification of....  well....  ok, who am I kidding, it's for me.  I had to put it in perspective so that I can  get on with my life, and with my story. maybe after this I'll put up the next chapter, first draft anyhow, it'll likely get completely cut and re-written

A.N.Onymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01734534971335865489noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8663213362079225369.post-17313273868289756262010-01-11T09:33:00.000-08:002010-01-11T09:33:34.081-08:00

I was going to try a shot at poetry this morning, a sonnet to my beautiful wife?  a limerick to my 12 year old son who keeps getting up each morning, with only a minimal amount of procrastination, I don't really know.  but poetry is just not in my purview today.  Sorry. I don't look like a poet, I don't have the angst to be a good poet, it's supposed to be 5-10 degrees all week, sunny and

A.N.Onymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01734534971335865489noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8663213362079225369.post-29270625925508964362009-12-31T01:29:00.001-08:002009-12-31T01:29:28.120-08:00

Hiya all. I did it.  I signed up for the free account at Fictionwise and started to take advantage of the giftcertificate that I was awarded.  That's kinda cool.  the down side is that this is yet one more site on this blasted nefarious internet that I have to remember the password to. Anyhow, it's like one thirty in the morning, and I have to get to sleep here soon.  I'll just leave it at that

A.N.Onymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01734534971335865489noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8663213362079225369.post-13512202756611797742009-12-06T00:47:00.000-08:002009-12-06T00:47:45.774-08:00

Hi there, as I was driving, listening to the radio, a song came on about a snowman made of dirty snow, and the treasure he was. That got me started on the what-if tangent trail. Treasure, precious metals, titanium, precious metals used... titanium, Animated figurines, high technology, What if Frosty the Snowman was actually animated by chains of nano-bots.  They could have been part of the

A.N.Onymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01734534971335865489noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8663213362079225369.post-77558955136455828942009-12-01T09:27:00.000-08:002009-12-01T09:27:25.703-08:00

This is not my prayer, I did not come up with it.  Somebody came up with this one so long ago that it eludes my brief search. Regardless, it's recital this morning is prudent. Prayer to St. Michael Saint Michael the Archangel, defend us in battle, be our protection against the wickedness and snares of the devil. May God rebuke him we humbly pray; and do thou, O Prince of the Heavenly host, by 

A.N.Onymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01734534971335865489noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8663213362079225369.post-74348893603660921922009-11-30T23:20:00.000-08:002009-11-30T23:20:23.683-08:00

To live is to feel, to feel is to bleed. Dreams bypass life, give lie to feelings. Help to escape, a means to cope. But dreams aren't life.  Life is not a dream. Can I dream my life away? Or failing that, live as though it were a dream? I used to dream of sails Of honour, of chivalry, heraldry, travails Then I dreamed of love, life and love. Ah, to love, to have one's heart realized, fulfilled.

A.N.Onymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01734534971335865489noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8663213362079225369.post-76847377867067463692009-11-30T08:58:00.000-08:002009-11-30T08:58:25.104-08:00

Welcome back to the Void. I Arose today, to see the smiling face of my little boy, we played in the blanket for a few minutes. That was the last time I smiled. Since then it's been miserable. I can't eat, I gag on most everything, including water. I am hoping that a day of work (probably the only one this week that won't be shattered all to hell with her phone calls) might help me. I feel (

A.N.Onymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01734534971335865489noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8663213362079225369.post-61636005413646081262009-11-25T22:15:00.000-08:002009-11-25T22:15:28.860-08:00

Well, I did it.  Made the 50,000 for the NaNoWriMo contest for 2009.  What a month.  Oh, and the books not finished, so I had to unwin the contest so I can finish the story.  figure i have about 10-15 thousand left to punch out, and five days to do it in. Not to cut things short, but the winner's badge is on the right, and will stay there until it's replaced by the 2010 entrants badge, I have to

A.N.Onymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01734534971335865489noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8663213362079225369.post-16043251267349588122009-11-23T09:41:00.000-08:002009-11-23T09:41:12.487-08:00

A Poem - Mired in Darkness Awakening, I do not see. This stale air that suffocates me. I surge upright to find the dark outside my mind; Struggling to catch hold a concept so very bold; Worth have I, and purpose? No?  Do I belong in a hearse? No!  There must be a reason for my breath in this season. I arise into the dark and empty place full, alive, moving apace. Strive forward, which way?

A.N.Onymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01734534971335865489noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8663213362079225369.post-69023996122486487592009-11-18T02:25:00.000-08:002009-11-18T02:25:57.419-08:00

Well, without preamble, or much in the way of editing, here's the prologue.  I thought I'd put it up here because I'm probably going to slash this sucker to 1/3 of it's current length before the editing is all done. Prologue:  840 AD, Connacht Kingdom, Eire The king patted the last of the newly placed earth back around the base of the twelfth mountain ash sapling, effectively completing the

A.N.Onymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01734534971335865489noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8663213362079225369.post-10771201829176160792009-10-31T23:48:00.000-07:002009-11-02T11:52:18.075-08:00

Hiya all.  (ok, I'm talking to myself again, but that's what happens when you are borderline nuts) Anyhow, on another and totally related note, here I am and it's now about 20 minutes to 12 midnight October 31, 2009. I Have Signed UP For NaNoWriMo.  (dispirited cheer at this point) that stands for National Novel Writing Month. what this means is that I have signed up to try to write at least

A.N.Onymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01734534971335865489noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8663213362079225369.post-89708013709371187262009-10-29T22:14:00.000-07:002009-10-29T22:14:00.365-07:00

What can probably be considered my first poem in more than 20 years, and unless I'm mistaken, it's the first I've ever written outside of school assignments. PAIN The feeling, ignore it!  I cannot. The heart's pulse, driving lances, deeper. Broken shards, piercing, stabbing. The pressure cast holds it all in, but not yet at all; the pain, to be stabilized, to mend, but the pressure is pain.

A.N.Onymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01734534971335865489noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8663213362079225369.post-85047075504786324472009-10-27T00:42:00.000-07:002009-10-27T00:42:25.350-07:00

Hi there, As the title says, this is where the voices in my head reside.  They've been complaining lately about not having a place of their own. So guess what guys and gals.  Here you go, get out of my head, maybe you can drive some other people nuts instead of me all the time. I'll leave it at that, and move on to doing something productive, like writing a little improbable hypothesis

A.N.Onymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01734534971335865489noreply@blogger.com0