"God no, don't, you'll kill yourself," my

  • "God no, don't, you'll kill yourself," my bawling wife implored as she pulled at my robe sleeve. I batted her arms away. "Stand aside, woman! I am going to submit 100 folds today

  • if it's the last thing I do!" My wife was suddenly silent. Too silent. I looked up from my folding obsession. There she stood, nekkid & with a slingshot in one hand. "Dammit, woman

  • !Put some clothes on! I can't concentrate with you standing there like that." A red hot steel ball imbedded right over my left eye. Blood was everywhere! Staggering, I folded anoth

  • er 180 characters. Neither nudity, the blood dripping from my eye, nor common sense would stop me, and I finished my fold in less than 4 minutes. Then I pushed my life alert button

  • but my fold hadn't been accepted! I had to copy & try again. Blood blinded me and I could only sense the paramedics wrestling my mouse from my hand as they strapped me onto the str

  • ing cheese web they used instead of stretchers thanks to budget cuts. Drowning in dairy, I grasped air feebly with my hands. "My fold," I croaked as they rushed me to the hospital

  • to find a princess whose cheesy kiss could restore me. My fold was sent to the ICU where its bloatedness from too many puns and irritable vowel syndrome was treated. The bill

  • Clinton "painted" dress fetched a pretty penny. This money was used to outsource my fold writing to Sri Lanka. I had an entire village writing folds under my name.

  • Don't you be bamboozled. Today it is I the real MoraEnd who is writing for your entertainment my rahti ho. I will be writing more amusements than my Uncle Vikram has

  • rows of teeth, and he once won an oral tug of war with Jaws' retainer. Crazy Uncle Vikram. 'Course, nowadays, he don't got a face, but he can whistle in harmony with himself now.



  1. lucielucie Feb 23 2014 @ 15:51

    This explains much.

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