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7 chews, one more than average. Was it fatigue?

  • 7 chews, one more than average. Was it fatigue? I recorded my results in the Graham Cracker Eighth column. I pulled at the perforations; crumbs fell. To account for this, I divided
  • my attention between the huge void in my heart and the Graham cracker. My soul was dry and crumbly. Those cruel words uttered by my Volleyball Coach came back, "
  • so I smacked the hell out of coach without even thinking twice about I will never regret this on anything
  • except maybe on oath at my trial for grievous bodily harm. Coach turned up in a wheel chair waving his crutches at me on the stand. In mitigation, I stated that I didn't like him
  • when every week for the last 2 years he had been giving me a rigorous prostate exam with his third hand but I just found out that at my age I don't need a prostate exam that often.
  • Feeling awkward, I decided never to see the perverted prostate doctor again.
  • But wouldn't you know it, the very next day I ran into him again at the grocery store. The perverted prostate doctor reached for my grapes but I slapped his hand away. "Doc,
  • you must be nuts if you think I'll let you inspect my prostate again," I told him. His face fell like a man slipping on a banana peel and he ran from the grocery store, bawling.
  • A strong scent of bananas hung heavily in the air. As I was about to pass the produce section, I saw the fruit lady stocking shelves. "Nice mangoes." I paused and picked a pair of
  • Green mangoes who greeted me back. They talked the whole time I was shopping and the cashier was most impressed. She had to buy some too but they wouldn't speak to her. Blimey!

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