Can We Stop Calling Things People Like to Watch, Talk, and/or Write About Porn Already?
Overused Clichés 101
Can we stop calling everything people like porn already? I guess it was sort of cute and interesting and maybe even descriptive the first time I saw somebody call something (whatever) porn. However, now that I have seen it for the ten thousandth time it has lost whatever power it had to engage my interest. Much like actual porn (insert whatever) porn loses some of its attractiveness with time, especially if you watch the same porn over and over and over again. Not that I would know anything about that. I mean, I would have no idea about that. Of course.
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Everyday Junglist
About me. You know how everyone says to be a successful writer you should focus in one or two areas. I continue to prove them correct.
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Twilight Zone Resident Surprised to Find Everything Perfectly Normal
Long time resident of the Twilight Zone farmer Bill Moss reported that he was very surprised to find nothing out of the ordinary in his barn after he noticed strange flickering lights coming from inside it for most of the previous night. In an interview that day he said "Typically if I were to see strange flashing lights all night in the barn and then go check on it the next day I could expect to find any number of strange or unusual phenomenon. For example, I might discover that the lights were actually the flashing signal beacons of a vanguard fleet of miniature sized aliens training to invade the earth. I would have to spend the entire day battling those little buggers to clear them out of my barn. Alternatively I might find that the lights were actually the energy signature of a trans-dimensional time rift which had flung a recently deceased Civil War soldier through time and space to end up confused and alone in my barn. I would just think he was an everyday civil war soldier time traveler until the very end, when I would realize he had actually died. At that point I would have to figure out a way to break the news to him and help him find his way to the afterlife. A third possibility could be the lights were the afterglow of the rocket engines of a ship piloted by an astronaut from an alternate earth who had somehow slipped through an interdimensional hole in space to end up crashing right next to my barn. He would be desperately searching for his loved ones calling any and every number he had, but in each case not finding the person he was looking for, but instead someone eerily similar, but not actually the same, as that person. Yep, it could have been any one of those things, or a million others, but instead I discovered that their was a single flickering light bulb on the edge of burning out that was responsible for the whole thing. Mystery solved, and just in time too, I heard ultra intelligent aliens had just arrived on Earth claiming they will cure all human diseases and usher in a Utopian age. They even carry a book around with them called, To Serve Man. Can you believe that? They must really like us for some reason."
By Everyday Junglist2 years ago in Poets
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