by Anne Glynn
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See you next week.

4/26/2017

3 Comments

 
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You should skip this week's blog. It has little redeeming value, there aren't enough words in it to fully count as a complete blog, and I'm sorry to subject you to it. I'm willing to take responsibility for discussing the upcoming ridiculousness, but I'm not to blame if you proceed past this point.
 
From here on in, you're on your own. Consider this fair warning.

My allergies have been terrible this year, for whatever reason, and I've been feeling miserable. Coughing and sneezing, getting too little sleep, I was thisclose to demanding that Glynn take over the blog and force some magic from Microsoft Word...except that his week has been exceptionally busy, and I didn't want to put too much on his plate. Since my magical shoe-cobbling elves don't do words, this meant that I still didn't have a blog for 04/27/2017 and I didn't have any energy to write a blog for 04/27. All of which left me thisclose to leaving this space blank today -- which was something I didn't want to do.
 
My head is clouded, my mind is foggy, and I didn't even have a subject to discuss. Or I didn't until I learned, just today, that dinosaur erotica was a thing.
 
I read about the subject on a much more reliable website than my own. I didn't believe it truly existed, then couldn't wait to mention the idea to the Good Witch. She said, "Oh, sure, I've seen it. The covers, anyway. Go to Amazon, you'll find loads of the stuff." So I went to Amazon. I found loads of the stuff. I was -- and am -- fairly astounded. Not only are there buckets of these stories, many of them have glowing reviews.
 
I'm not saying that the crowd views this stuff as Pulitzer material, but it has its audience. 
 
It turns out, if you're of a particular mind, you can pick up a copy of Ravished by the Triceratops at this very moment. The story led one reviewer to offer, "I like the triceratops sex better than the human sex; after all, there's only so many things two people can do" -- and, at $2.99 for 15 pages, I don't care how many things that triceratops did, I'd want a little extra value for money. In seeking more pages for my dinosaur-erotica buck, I came across Helicopter Man Pounds Dinosaur Billionaire Ass. This is the oft-told tale of a man with the ability to transform into a helicopter who falls in love with a terribly wealthy male stegosaurus. One reviewer referred to it as, "The new 50 Shades of Grey." Other reviewers claimed that they, too, were able to transform into various flying machines and were happy to finally find a novel that featured one of their kind as the hero.
 
For $3.99, the reader gets 114 pages of dino lust. Or, if you should so choose, you can pick it up in paperback for $7.99.
 
In case you're wondering, I didn't pick it up but I did hope the subject matter would make for an amusing blog. G.W. told me I shouldn't bother. "Everybody knows about dinosaur erotica," she shared. "That's so two years ago."
 
That being the case, I'll see you next week. Bring some Kleenex.

3 Comments
A.S. Akkalon link
4/29/2017 12:27:17 pm

This totally cracked me up. The reviewer is entirely correct. There are only so many things two people can do to each other. That doesn't necessarily make the next logical step dinosaur-human erotica, though.

Reply
Anne
4/30/2017 06:48:44 pm

But...but there are SO many things two people can do together. Plus toys! Plus costumes! Plus accents! (Yes, Glynn, I want you working on that English accent.)

Reply
A.S. Akkalon link
4/30/2017 07:29:36 pm

Ooh, I like doing accents! I'm terrible at it, though. My husband tells me I can't even pronounce my own accent, which is pretty bad. Maybe I should stick to costumes. Dinosaur costumes...

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    Welcome!

    At the back of my paperbacks and e-books, you'll find this:
     
    A collector of vintage Barbies and younger boyfriends, Anne Glynn currently resides in the American Southwest.
     
    The truth is a little more complicated. I'm Anne and my S.W.P. (Significant Writing Partner) is Glynn. Together, we write as 'Anne Glynn'.
     
    However, I am a collector of vintage Barbies and I have, on occasion, collected the younger boyfriend. Not so much these days.
     
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