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March 24, 2009

Jim: The Lowest Form of Serial Romance

Of all the beaches on all the Thousand Islands, this one was Giovanni’s favorite because this is where he'd met Daphne. He remembered her on that warm summer day so long ago, her French braid glistening with seawater while she joked about his formerly thick Italian accent. “Eets-a wonderful-a here,” she’d mocked playfully. “Thees-a would be a good-a place to build-a a House.”

Giovanni now had it all. Well, almost all. He owned the beach and the magnificent house he’d had built for the two of them. “If only I still had Daphne”, he sighed.

Meanwhile, back at the Ranch…

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Comments

I know, I know. There's a special place in Hell for punsters. This was the only thing I thought of.

At least I didn't write: Suddenly he turns and Caesar.

Posted by: Jim Parkinson at March 24, 2009 11:54 AM · Permalink

Oh. I guess I wrote it after all. Imagine that.

Posted by: Jim Parkinson at March 24, 2009 11:57 AM · Permalink

Once again, I come up with an idea during work, and get home to find someone beat me to it.

Curse you.

Posted by: lj at March 24, 2009 6:50 PM · Permalink