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So there it was. Quivering. Hulking. Gyrating.

  • So there it was. Quivering. Hulking. Gyrating. Like it had a life of its own. It was sick. Diseased. Disgusting. It was

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  • Mother Theresa. Ok, so she was jealous. Who wouldn't be? Sister Wanker finished drawing the mustache on Theresa's icon and considered her awful fate.

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  • Sister Wanker had not been your typical novice when she entered the convent. Instead Sister Wanker had been a Las Vegas show girl, living in the fast lane. Until the day

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  • she met Art. He excited her more than any

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  • self absorbing asshole shes met at her taxidermy class.This was it,the man of her dreams, he was tall,shiny,dull and part of the italian yakuza. I was wet from

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  • the semi-toxic fluids used to preserve the moles we were mounting, but the burning in my eyes was from love and desire. I had never met a man who could play the yakuza, and he

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  • was also skilled in other impossible feats, such as flying the tuba, and water-cooling bison. Bursting with desire I yelled, "make the impossible happen here!", and ripped open my

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  • satchel full of humongous statues of kookaburras in awkward positions. Chanting mysteriously I glanced towards the whale that had brought me here, a wink confirming

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  • what I already knew; that the whale was totally in love with me. That was fine by me, being a bit of a whaleophile myself, but I wanted to play hard to get, so I smirked at it.

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  • "OK you big son of a gun, lets put our differences aside and make a go of it" and thats how I came to be in love once more... Just call me Ishmail

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