“Goodbye America. Goodbye Earth. Goodbye 21st century. Hello, Right Hand of God. “

11 Nov

See the author who punched Phillip Gregory, or Greg Phillips (unsure) in the flesh and bone (bring a towel)

The Polecatz has written over, and including, 900 novels and unloved stageplays and YouTube meesterstuk (many legible) to date and possibly woe.

If anyone knows where they are, please contact the author. NOTE telephone now available, but only if you call this tull* free number

*Not toll

Pigtime O’Clock (available from all good bookstore wholesalers, and mediocre butchers, for a paltry 29.990 or nearest offer, credit and trade available, please ask your parents) combines everything you thought you loved, some of it about his books, and 17% more. It is a certain amount of unnumbered pages of fun-esque substances, and all for the price of an upmarket novel!

But don’t take my paid copywriter word for it, check out this modest yet succulent selection of praise for The Polecatz’s previous sequel  Is that a Gun in your Back? (I’m Happy to See You): A Pick-Pocket Guide to Mugging

 

The Polecatz is back again, lock the door

–Anon

Suitable for public release….free of some toxins…don’t…no…bad…quality…recommend

– National Health and Services, second class

 

About the author/lover: The Polecatz was born, before rising to the middle of the literary pile in his late twenties (they came when he was 36). It’s pretty much that since then, regardless what you read (unless you read this, than its completely in regardmore)

A special question and answer session will be conducted by the Metropolitan Police, and family.   Then cake!

Ladies over 12 get in for free, but with a forfeit to be discussed privately.

No refunds, no disappointment!

Please check your local website for accurate information, dates, times and horoscopes if you don’t have a clock, just don’t forget to count!

 

As my girl-love boarded the shuttle, I broke the news and the mood. This was room only for her.

I would die on this repeatedly exploding planet.

We held hands as long as wasn’t gay, and as the ship rose into the poison fog, I looked at the note she left in my grieving palm. A $20. She owed me $50.

How the frick am I going spend that?

 

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