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It doesn't matter who you are or how smart, stupid can always get you; directly or indirectly. Take Aeon Peck, for instance. Aeon was on a space survival vacation on Io when Doofus
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only cute for the first 15 minutes, but then I called the police, using a secret button under my desk. But I hit the wrong button by mistake (lotsa buttons down there) and called
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to this elite, erudite group include: a) Monthly chapstick massages in the flavor of your choice, as long as it is 1) Mint or 2) Cherry; b) Mentions in Chapstick! Magazine; c)
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Temporal Hecuba was the granddaughter of Harold Hecuba. Not that that matters to our story but there it is. Temporal isn't even in this story past this fold. See to that, please.
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that if I played this guy's game we'd find ourselves in a second rate Abbot & Costello "Who's on 1st?" loop. "How do you know that I am not He who must be Obeyed?" A look of panic
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"Ma'am, I don't know if you have ever been in the position of showing up to school wearing Kmart Blue Light Special sneakers when everybody else is sporting Chuck Taylors. Middle
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"I didn't get a harrumph from that seraphim," God said to his Messenger, the archangel Gabriel. Gabriel looked around. "Which seraphim, Lord Almighty?" "I was what it was & never
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God didn't create the world so much as he's running a multifaceted simulation of a world. A world where the 1st thing he did was create Seraphim; who's only job is to praise him.
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"First off, WTF is this, "allow me to tell you my life story" shit. You didn't give me a chance to allow or not allow a damned thing. You just showed up already running your story.
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Which it won't be if it is filled with the vacuum of space. It is the little details like this that will bite you in the ass when you book your next Space Survival Vacation on Io.
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The money is all that mattered to me. Until the day I got fed up of having to fuck NPC after NPC, after NPC, over and over again for some player's fetish side quests. VR sex work
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Ike liked Wilkes-Booth Bootlickers, French Ticklers, & Apothecary by Royal decree Brothers bagels in the morning with his raw egg & kale slurry. It soothed his Hessian roots he was
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I think I have ever seen that done right once. It was one of those thought bombs. It seems to be a dud at first hearing but then explodes after a minute of thought.
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Another one that puzzles me is, "Now the man who needs no introduction", is always followed by them introducing the man they said needed no introduction.
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when all you really had to do was unscrew it, throw it in the trash, and get another dad-blamed light bulb. Dad blamed everybody for his lack of bright ideas, but everyone knew
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I have never understood the whole concept of "without further ado" always being followed by further ado.
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A History written by the vanquished. Each letter written in blood. Each syllable not spoken a syllable forgotten. A wish to unspeak the wrong deemed wrong itself. Where goes that
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The Rasputin dragging myself out of the frozen Neva routine was getting old. As old as these scars that I have in place of my Russian manhood that lies suppurated upon the annals
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Ain't even a bulb anymore. No, it is some glass spiral ass pig dick shit that even that is so last century that you're wondering if you got all 13 of your crackerjack buttons left.
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The avenue of light the stars afforded me tonight leaves me in awe. But only because your seeking gaze comes at me like a playful kitten. That susurration intimating a surrender of