Books are made with the tears of sparrows.Either that or people scribble stuff down, crudely glue it all together with pritt stick and then post it under their neighbour's door in the forlorn hope that their neighbour (who they've never met) is a publisher or something.
The usual setting is a squalid bedsit in Leeds (Gay City of the Year 2005).
wheelybird mreee!,
Fri 6 Jul 2007, 13:17,
archived)
So no jelly fountains then?:( *dispairs*
(
We are the lemon irked your craw on,
Fri 6 Jul 2007, 13:25,
archived)