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I had been collecting my sweat for two years

  • I had been collecting my sweat for two years now. I kept it in mason jars. Thousands of them littered around my trailor. I was proud of my collection. I had names for each jar.

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  • This one here is from June of last year. Look at that color, hot that day. You might ask, 'Why collect sweat?' It is physical proof of my labors. Lets go further back, now this,

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  • this sack here ~he indicated a large burlap bag~ is filled with my hair and skin flakes, cuticles and such. Why collect those? Well, I hope to amass enough to create a life-size

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  • bag of granola that I can feed to

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  • the Quaker child I caught scavenging my oatmeal. The buckle on his little Quaker hat had rusted, and his little Quaker boots weren't polished, so I took pity. "Have a Chewy bar," I

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  • said, and forced it into his hand. He looked at it, puzzled. What is this made of?" the little Quaker boy asked. "Woodchips, nails, and flat black paint," I said.

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  • He took a bite & munched on it. *It reminds me of my mami's oatmeal cookies after they get dry, but they have more nails & less woodchips." The Quaker boy smiled at me showing his

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  • breeches. "Well, I have an enormous hat!" , the quaker boy yelled nervously. His horse was standing a few feet away and I

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  • looked in amazement as the Quaker boy's horse vanished into thin air! We stopped our argument with each other then and there. We were terrified. Suddenly a nearby wagon vanished

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  • and we were nearly out of our minds with fright, when jolly Cardinal Fantômas, Archbishop of Gotham, strolled out of the woods. With a few silly jokes he put us all at ease.

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