Oh boy! It is 2018 and just today I learned that "some sort of dog" had passed away 12 years ago....
A few days ago I was thinking about what makes good story writing and then I remembered a decades ago reading and re-reading some BE stories that were written with such a flow and style, that I've got from usenet. I started searching, remembering a dog was involved in the authors name and after some time ended up in the bearchive archive by way of waybackmachine. Downloaded some files, started reading and it all came back. Not the aspect of BE, but the way the characters were written and the way they spoke with such a natural wit and humor. And the style that is light as a feather. I am now, as I was then amazed by the first class style of the writing and feel just the same as then: this is how a good story telling is done.
But who is this author? In a few hours of furious searching I learned that most of my favorite stories were written by the same author under different pseudonyms and that this author is dead and has been dead for more than a decade. I feel crushed. I missed telling him this by 12 years.
Well, to you doggo, the only one, I am going to pour a little of something strong and conteplate what i did in last 12 years.
"CAN you put this in the washing machine, Mum?"
Mrs Smith turned pale. "What is it?"
"Sian's T-shirt."
"But it's covered in blood! The poor **09**. Where is she?"
"In the bathroom, probably. But it's only tomato ketchup. If you scrape it off carefully, we can put it back in the bottle. That's the last there is."
"You dirty little girls. You're a disgrace. What's she wearing now?"
"I borrowed one of Zara's old tops out of the laundry. It nearly fits Sian. It's got some funny white stains all down the front, but Sian said it's okay. They look like cum. And Sian says they smelled like cum. They must have been cum."