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I reached out with my mind and subtly milked

  • I reached out with my mind and subtly milked the endocrine glands of the kid next to me in lab, causing a surge of adrenaline to flow throughout his body. With a mighty jerk, he
  • could always win over his guests. His Jerk chicken recipe had been obtained from the tomb of a king from the Bahamas. Now that his glands enlarged, his Jerk chicken would get us
  • across the ocean on a full stomach, at least. Damn, that Jerk chicken was delicious. That king probably died of cardiac arrest, my God. Anyway, if foodgasms were possible
  • I'd be one satisfied wombat. After eating all the jerk chicken, coconut cream pie, tater tots, pancakes, brownie bites, special K diet shakes and a low calorie Snapple - I was
  • full and ready to begin my journey. I looked at the treasure map. Right at crash diet mountain, down binging lane? I've got this down
  • syndrome that's complicating my Lyme disease treatment. One day it's "eat your vegetables" the next day it's "Rest, Ice, Compression, Elevation". Advice is like
  • some sad way of giving me hope, like there's something i can do to change things. But we all know, there is nothing I can do.
  • The members of the Optimist Club just stared at him. He was an infiltrator, there was no doubt about that. All of the sudden, Al started singing, "The sun'll come out, tomorrow..."
  • The Optimist Club joined in the chorus and suggested Al join them on their club holiday. Al wondered if he could fit in with the tight schedule of snorkellin the Great Barrier Reef
  • and hanging out with a bunch of ignorant solipsists who were whizzing society's problems down their legs, and ultimately sided with pretty undersea life instead. He had a fun time.

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