20 Minutes timed writing number 1

Twenty Minutes timed writing £1

Here we are and it's time to write something witty and wild for twenty minutes.  Should it be tasteful or erotic, or both?  Who knows, can't wait to find out.  I'm not even checking to see what I write, just typing away at full speed.  I have to stop editing my typos next.  Thwat will look uglier but who cares, right?  So what's the idea of the day?

Timmy was a young lad who fell in love with a girl who didn't even notice he existed.  She was in fact a very open and sexual person, but reserved her love and her body for older, more mature gentlemen who would dominate and abuse her to her pleasure.  Timmy didn't know this -- he thought he was being nice, and that nice was the way to win the woman he loved.  He didn't find out until years later that nice is only a good idea for certain girls, and they're not necessarily the ones Timmy wanted.  Poor Timmy.  When he did actually find a girl who responded well to "nice", she turned out to have serious issues.  Isabella was a wounded creature, product of an unpredictably violent father and a weak, vacillating mother, and all she wanted was to escape her first marriage to a large, violent brute.  Timmy's niceness was just what she needed.

As soon as Isabella had Timmy in her clutches, she turned into a composite of her parents.  She became weak and indecisive, asking Timmy to make all the important choices for her.  The moment he took action, she would herself turn unexpectedly violent, slapping Timmy in the face and berating his poor management, his low-paying job, and his ugly sisters.  Ugly sisters?  Where did that come from?  To be explored in a later chapter.

Poor Timmy went to the Love Guru and it was a very expensive trip, too.  He had to board a plane to Tibet, join a touring group hiking to a remote mountain, then break off the group at a prearranged point and hike straight up until he found an apparently empty but very smelly cave.  The foul creature that greeted him from out of the darkness was indeed the Love Guru, and he immediately took a liking to Timmy.

"Fetch me those chemical handwarmers for my ass, boy, and I'll tell you what you've been doing wrong."  Timmy hastened to comply, even slipping the little chem-packs under the wizened old butt.

"How did I get myself into this mess, Love Guru?", warbled Timmy.

"First of all,  my name is Harold.  Let's get that straight."

"Yes, Harold."

"And second, you're too damn nice.  Whoever told you that you would get ahead in the world by having people like you?  They lied.  Wanting people to like you is about the most self-destructive and painful way to live there is.  If you think being addicted to alcohol is bad, you haven't seen anything until you've seen some poor man (or girl) addicted to approval.  Your psyche stays frozen at about age 4, and everyone can see it.  And that's where you are, Timmy.  A 4-year-old, hoping to be liked, and being nice to everyone."

"Well, of course I wanna be liked!" retorted Timmy.  "If people don't like you, you can't get anywhere in the world."

The old man wheezed.  "Kaff---kaff -- is that so?  Well, boy, do you have a boss at work?"

"Yes."

"And do you like him?"

"Well, he's a fine boss, but, well, no."

"So you're the only one in the office who doesn't like the boss?  Everyone else adores him?"

"Uh, no.  Most of us think he's an asshole."

"And why is he the boss then and not you?  You're much nicer."

"Ah---.    Right."  Timmy was beginning to see the light, but he tried again.  "But surely my wife -- I should be nice to her, right?"

"Well, Timmy, think about this for a moment.  Think of the girls you used to want in school.  What kind of men did they marry?"

"Assh-- oh."  Timmy looked glum.  "You really are the Guru, aren't you?"

"Harold.  I told you, it's Harold."

"Yessir."