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Message-ID: <42083asstr$1051319407@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: Hammon Wry <Hammonwry@spamtrapyahoo.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} Hammon Wry's Words of the Day for December 28, 2002
Date: Fri, 25 Apr 2003 21:10:07 -0400
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Hammon Wry's Words of the Day for Saturday December 28, 2002

Note: Due to copyright laws, I am hesitant to include the definitions
and pronunciations of the words of the day.  I have provided the
websites for each so that you can look up the words for yourself.  

This is an exercise in writing discipline.  I am trying to get into
the habit of writing something every day.  I figure if I use the words
of the day from two sources in a sexual context, I will have
inspiration and motivation.
(Denny, that word keeps kissing my butt.  Spell check finally stopped
haranguing me. Three's the charm, they say.)   

And now, on to Hammon Wry's Words of the Day!
(C) E. Howe   2003
All rights reserved

Dictionary.com's word of the day: pugilist
http://dictionary.reference.com/wordoftheday/archive/2002/12/28.html

"...He walked down the iron-cold streets, his hands in his pockets,
clutching the bottle of purloined either and a clean, dry washcloth.
His step was in time with the music blaring from the megaphone speaker
mounted outside a shop window.  Simon and Garfunkel's 'The Boxer'
reverberated from the buildings.  The gunshot sounds of the chorus
echoed from the glass and steel that rose above him in the night sky.

He stopped when he saw the prostitute leaning over, her head in the
window of  a car.  Her shiny skirt was hiked up to the tops of her
thighs, and fishnet stockings descended into the top of her patent
leather boots just below her knees.  

The speaker continued its tinny rendition.

'...Just a come-on from the whores 
On Seventh Avenue' 

All his life, he'd fought for every possession, every concession,
every acquisition.  He was tired of fighting, being bruised and beaten
over and over.   He was tired of the cold solitude of nights, and the
lack of companionship.  

Like the pugilist of the song, he decided in his loneliness to take
some comfort there.  He pulled the bottle from his pocket, and stepped
into an alley to wet the cloth with the odiferous liquid."

Hammon Wry

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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