I'm a straight, gay dog who has spent nearly ten years as an advertising copywriter for radio and television. This has left me with a debilitating work-related disability. I had always planned to try my hand at writing the Great Canadian Novel and several years ago decided to begin during a two-week vacation. Day one I spent with my feet up searching for an idea. On day two I kept myself busy sitting beneath a tree, nibbling potato chips and scribbling plot points and back story onto a pad of yellow paper. Early on day three’s morning, I sat down at my word processor and began to write. When I finished, I went back over my work cleaning up spelling and typos occasionally changing a word or phrase to something more elegant. Finally, I read my story to Fizzgig, the grey Persian/Maine Coon mix who allows me to sublet part of the rooms I rent. It took exactly sixty seconds to read.Premature exposition! I know, but I’m working on it.
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As this is a writing site, GingerKitty, I like to post something every now and then which requires literacy.And I'm not a Mr. I'm a The.
http://upload.lushstories.com/327595491-Spam Referral.jpg Man: What you got? Waitress: Well, there's egg and bacon; egg, sausage and bacon; egg and spam; egg, bacon and spam; egg, bacon, sausage and spam; spam, bacon, sausage and spam; spam, egg, spam, spam, bacon and spam; spam, sausage, spam, spam, spam, bacon, spam, tomato and spam; spam, spam, spam, egg and spam; spam, spam, spam, spam, spam, spam, baked beans, spam, spam, spam and spam. Wife: Have you got anything without spam? Waitress: Well, there's spam, egg, sausage and spam. That's not got much spam in it. Wife: I don't want any spam! Man: Why can't she have egg, bacon, spam and sausage? Wife: That's got spam in it. Man: It hasn't got as much spam in it as spam, egg, sausage and spam has it? Wife: Could you do me egg, bacon, spam and sausage without the spam then? Waitress: Ech! Wife: What do you mean ech! I don't like spam! Waitress: You can't have egg, bacon spam and sausage without the spam. Wife: I don't like spam! Man: Shhh, dear, don't cause a fuss. I'll have your spam. I love it. I'm having spam, spam, spam, spam, spam, spam, spam, baked beans, spam, spam, spam and spam. Waitress: Shut up! Baked beans are off. Man: Well, can I have her spam instead of the baked beans? Waitress: You mean spam, spam, spam, spam, spam, spam, spam, spam, spam, spam, spam, and spam? Poster's Note: I removed the Vikings, no one wants Vikings with their spam.
This is hilarious. But did they honestly think this would make the Super Bowl? I have concluded that several of the edgier advertising agencies are creating on-line ads, purporting to be television commercials, which they know are beyond the pale for broadcast TV. These generate notoriety, so people purposefully search out the ads on YouTube, etc. and expose themselves to the sponsor's message. The sponsor pays only for the agency's efforts producing the ads, not the bigger expense of buying blocks of television time in which to air the commercials. Everybody wins except the broadcasting companies.
Roses are red,But cactus are prickly.One tastes rather tangy,The other is squickly.
Roses are red.Violets are blue.If you won't take my flowers,I'll just chew on my bone.
"Me, fa, so," sing I.
...HOISTORY IS REPEATING ITSELF.. Perhaps the reason why "hoistery" keeps repeating itself is because every time someone makes an intelligent attempt at correcting the problem, fellows like you go off like a bunch of "petards."
Roses are red.Violets are blue.If you're buying drinksI'm a Lush for you.
Somewhere the shade of Rube Goldberg is smiling.
A trifle harsh, perhaps, but I've had days like that.
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