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Christmas Girls Lit

I normally try to wait a while–at least 6 hours, but often an entire day–between posts to, you know, let each post live and breathe a little before it gets pushed down the feed.  Not today.  That Luke Scott post, as quietly and unintentionally droll as I find it, is bugging the hell out of me.  I wasn’t even looking at it, happily going along with my day, but I couldn’t shake the little hissing voice in the back of my brain, reminding me that it’s there.  And like the little guy said, “We hates it, Precious.”

You’ve likely heard of buyer’s remorse.  This is writer’s remorse.  I will compensate with a slew of silly and provocative Christmas-themed images because I can, and because the ridicule I reap locally for such incursions beyond the realm of politeness make for excellent holiday party conversation fodder.  Girls lit up light Christmas trees: a little bit sexy, a little bit seasonal, and a fairly popular theme.

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By JunkChuck

Native, Militant Westsylvanian (the first last best place), laborer, gardener, and literary hobbyist (if by literary you mean "hack"). I've had a bunch of different blogs, probably four, due to a recurring compulsion to start over. This incarnation owes to a desire to dredge up the best entries of the worst little book of hand-scrawled poems I could ever dream of writing, salvageable excerpts from fiction both in progress and long-abandoned. and a smattering of whatever the hell seems to fit at any particular moment. At first blush, I was here just to focus on old, terrible verse, but I reserve the right to include...anything. Maybe everything, certainly my love of pulp novels, growing garlic, the Pittsburgh Steelers and howling at the moon--both figuratively and, on rare occasions, literally.

4 replies on “Christmas Girls Lit”

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