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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Commercial Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
Of Perverts and Pirates

Submitted: February 17, 2007

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Submitted: February 17, 2007

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Lying there screaming at the ceiling, words without meaning, seemed all too appealing. In fact it seemed like the only logical thing to do when to one side of you there was a man trying to climb into his own stomach and opposite was a pirate who’s peg leg had been stolen by a leprechaun who used his magic to replace it with the leg of a white man he had died black. Now there was a small Irish man with a quite exquisite cane which he had no claim to and even get him started on his Asian eye. Phil hadn’t known pirates were so racist. Then again he hadn’t known much really before he came here. He was a poet living in a bed sit aping the struggles of those who had come before him. The only problem; he was very sociable by nature and a total extrovert. His mother had been head of the school board and his father a man who drank only in moderation, showed no interest in distributing unjustifiable beatings and only had love of the socially accepted, legal kind for his son. How was he supposed to be a great poet revered for generations to come if he hadn’t any hardship of which to speak? When he got older he trawled the internet looking for paedophiles and perverts but despite the horror stories he fond neither to be abundant in either the physical or electronic domains. With his teens petering out without major catastrophes, one too many successful relationships sent him over the edge. If he was to been seen as any kind of failure then he must do something drastic. After a brief and wholly unsuccessful flirtation with anorexia, insanity looked like the best option. So here he was strapped to a bed screaming his poetic little heart out about the disproportionate sizes of birds and bees being overwhelmed by the strength of their hearts. If it wasn’t for his strong Irish accent it is possible that Phillip J. Smith would have gone on to be remembered for evermore but as it is the only record of his existence was a short obituary telling of the twenty-something tragedy who signed himself into a psychiatric hospital and was strangled by a man who believed him to have stolen his left kidney in the local paper, a man who would go on to top the best sellers list in over twenty countries with an epic novel based around the adventures a 16th century pirate.


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