to make irregular arrangements with my clients to get reimbursed what they owed me. Mr. T., for instance, was allowing me to shelter in place in his guest cottage. He expected sex

retain its original packaging and be kept in just the right climate-controlled environment to retain and accrue value. After I obtained this prize, I lived and thought like a spy –

I was aghast. I was to0 late to take my husband's seed and he shot his shot all up in the downstairs maid's unprotected womb. I shuddered to think what she new privilege she would

nny boy, that right there is the hero of the town." The mom replied, ruffling her son's hair. The caped wonder ran like the wind, carrying discount clothes and milk bottles and

Unlike that time she had flicked something else whilst quagmire had been peeking in with a camera. Peter shuddered. It really ground his gears sometimes, just like that chicken

, Southern, Eastern or Western, nobody was safe from the Falkland drums. Wherever you went, the drums followed you. Thump. Thump. Thump. Only the volunteer punks could withstand

Araidne the Lesser Gorgon. Nobody else would try to pull that shit. I couldn't concentrate on my maths. My empathy went off the charts on the low end. Who could Araidne be seeing?

far from knowing how to use his new dorsal fin. To his stepfather, who just happened to walk into the dining just then, he looked like the fish was shitting the boy. He grabbed a

irresistibly al dente. The flatulence, a serendipitous byproduct of my gluttony, saved me from the doom that met virtually all other human life. My only company was an IBS-afflicte

I considered the question, glancing at my partner. A couples adventure of discovery on a mysterious island sounded amazing. She gave me a slight nod. "We're in!" I said. I didn't

But Moon Doggy felt threatened and struck out with some fung fu moves. He took the butterflies by surprised and all bunched together. He wiped out hundreds with his first swipe.

Roseanne Barr, amongst other members of the Moo World Order. The steaks were high, she had some major beef and nothing, nor nobody was going to stand in her way.

heads. Regrettably, the four children were told, they would now be inseparable. Like conjoined twins, the filthy kids were bound by their mutually-tangled hair.

How about "Come to my cooler, you little darlin'" or "Jump on the hook and laugh at George Carlin"? But no, he had been trying to write a serious poem about fishing, not a comedy

felt the usual pleasant surprise at gin's subtle flavour. She thought, "If only I could get Dr Goodfeel to love me..." Goodfeel arched an eyebrow. "Doris?" She gasped. Did she say

That all it took was the exactly right shot for the puck to go in for a score. Roman found the goalie was not as easy to fool as he had thought. The referees were watching closely.

before anyone could see her and exclaim, "There she is, the baby witch who slaughters mountain goats with her visage!" But then she realized that someone WAS shouting that, and she

Lly inhabited by varmints and met Mr. Tarantula about noon over coffee and donuts. We planned our approach to rebuild the old armory.

ntly clear that the path of stoic friendlessness suggested by "Jane Eyre" had shunted me down a very unsavory path indeed. Then I felt the kind hand of Prester Inspector Hathaway

and making lewd remarks at passersby. "However," he went on, "Guildenstern knows a fire escape with a hidden entrance to heaven behind some loose bricks. Ask him to show you."