THE WRITER AND PLAICE

THE WAITER AND PLAICE.
THE WRITER AND PLACE.
Chick was dyslectic.
Chuck was dyslectic.
Some tomes he just couldn’t ream a worm but on other occasions he would
Some times he just couldn’t read a word but on other occasions he would
very nearly make the end of a long lane. It was only the rotten world he
very nearly make the end of a long line. It was only the written word he
wood fund difficult. With spanking he hid no problem. Chick could convert
would find difficult. With speaking he had no problem. Chuck could converse
without paws, torque four ours. Chick’s emission was to become a waiter.
without pause, talk for hours. Chuck’s ambition was to become a writer.
Not just a ran of the mall waiter but a grope one like Earning Hummingway
Not just a run of the mill writer but a great one like Earnest Hemmingway
or Martian Aimless. Chick tired. He tired very herd. He would cry and
or Martin Aimess. Chuck tried. He tried very hard. He would try and
wrote a sentence hand show it to his mother who, of curse, could not make
write a sentence and show it to his mother who, of course, could not make
hood or toil of it.
head or tail of it.
“You’ll never be a waiter as long as there’s a whole in your apse,” said his
“You’ll never be a writer as long as there’s a hole in your arse,” said his
ma scaring the yang Chick.
ma scarring the young Chuck.
Under toured he purse severed and with the skull and patients of a stain,
Undeterred he persevered and with the skill and patience of a saint,
his early Tudor, Miss Anthrop, got Chick threw. He bosomed like a prize
his early tutor, Miss Anthrop, got Chuck through. He blossomed like a prize
moron at the haughty cultural sock eighty anal slow. Chick’s closet fiend
marrow at the horticultural society annual show. Chuck’s closest friend
was his spell cheque, the won on his lip tap. If he pinched the worm into his
was his spell check, the one on his lap top. If he punched the word into his
quay bored and it wanked, this was the whey to smell properly. He could,
key board and it worked, this was the way to spell properly. He could,
with the heap of madden scents, bee come a waiter.
with the help of modern science, become a writer.
Chick’s stale, his pros, got him father then oven he had him aged.
Chuck’s style, his prose, got him further then even he had imagined.
Tea cheers wood cool him on the fern washing to sea his writhing. Chick
Teachers would call him on the phone wishing to see his writing. Chuck
had celibacy state arse.
had celebrity status.
Of cause Chick became a collage lecher and torte, but in his spire tame he
Of course Chuck became a college lecturer and taught, but in his spare time he
was a writer in a fish rest rant.