I pulled the plug, but the light bulb didn't
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I pulled the plug, but the light bulb didn't blink. The entire house was lit up and buzzing. I flailed down the hall to the breaker and pulled them all, without effect. The doors
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screamed insults as I sprinted past, telling me I was no runner and should go back to Kenya for more training. I stuck my tongue out at the mahogany and shouted
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"Hwrashwetg ashte aksdnwm auh uh ilsksh," before I realized that it's impossible to yell and stick my tongue out at the same time if I want my words to be understood. Luckily, I
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magic jack so I can waste time on the phone. Next time I call Korea to talk to Uncle Loo I will open with a knock knock joke. This is all part of my experimental
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joke therapy for my Korean uncle, Skip Loo. Unbeknownst to me, romper room bullies saddled my uncle with his lingering moniker, "Skip Tooda Loo." My innocent joke went awry, and
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one day my uncle snapped at a children's store when he heard that infamous nursery rhyme. "I'll show YOU Skip Tooda Loo!" he shouted as he opened fire, a spray of bullets
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kicking up a skiff of freshly fallen snow. It fluttered earthward like so many angel kisses, and my uncle was so appalled by his own actions that he retired that gun. Now he
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contemplated the twitching corpse of the last carrier pigeon. The burial was swift. The stone read simply, "Returned to Sender." It was a sad day for ornithology. A sad day indeed.
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Alternatives were suggested, of course. Carrier bees, carrier bats, even carrier dust-mites with nano-fiche affixed to their nano-butts. Maybe narrow-casting wasn't the answer. We
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Killed all of the custard cremes that made my mother sick. The end.
2
- Started
- 2010-12-02 02:08:03
- Finished
- 2011-01-11 17:14:19
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