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Thursday 28 March 2013

Poached Poachers

I typed in about 1,200 words today, some at home and some in Starbucks. I seem to written more of my books in Monk's Cross Starbucks than Central York Starbucks. Just pasted the last 300 words I've done so far into the document.

How do you make an elephant laugh?
Tickle his ivories.

That's if he still has them and they haven't been pulled out of his head by poachers. Poachers, maybe they should be poached, as in egg.

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