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"I am not a whore, but a space whore!" screamed

  • "I am not a whore, but a space whore!" screamed the senile old man. Long ago he was one of our nation's brightest minds, but now as he sit in the retirement home I can't help but

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  • wonder what goes on in his mind. One day I found myself sitting in his study papered with news clippings. "I bet you think I'm senile, eh? But we're all space whores kid! I can pro

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  • am with the best of them. Then he busted out his NES, "What to race, the Devil?" That's when he realized he was roommates with Satan. He wet himself.

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  • With desire. His roommate's eyes burst into flames and a grin of glasslike shards stretched from ear to ear. "Hell yes," said my satanic roommate as he searched for Mario Kart.

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  • Nothing gave my satanic roommate more joy than hitting me with a thunderbolt right before the Wario Stadium ramp. Ha, I could play dirty. I replaced his nasal spray with holy water

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  • and hacked into the Muzak on the elevator so that whenever he rode it up to his fifteenth floor apartment, it would read the Rite of Exorcisism cranked up to 11. He he he - if I

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  • May guess it was a man - proposed a ceremony to kill off all the rats and bedbugs and mice en masse, so the overworked exterminators would have a long overdue vacation.

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  • By the time the ceremony was done they had all missed their vacations and the rats, bedbugs, and mice were still with us. Then they started looking for that ambiguously gendered p

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  • -arakeet who said he'd eat anything. They finally found the ambiguously gendered parakeet at a county fair cockroach eating contest. "Please devour our problem pests!" they begged

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  • The parakeet agreed to munch the pest probono as long as they agreed to do an endorsement of his cockroach eating contest tour. They were relieved and soon pest free!

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