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The black clouds were rolling up above. I

  • The black clouds were rolling up above. I could hear the crack of thunder. I was cold, hungry, and tired. Still, I pushed on. I needed to get out of the rainforest and back to
  • the place where it all began -- the Fundamentalist Church of Latter Day Saints. Suddenly, a bolt of lightning struck a tree close by, scattering flaming vegetation like shrapnel.
  • Pulling a TEC-9 from within his robes the reverend showed his dedication. "SONS OF WHORES!" he shrieked, bullets shredding ipods, hollister shirts and the mass of tweens to pieces
  • - it truly was a gruesome film. Not that I minded, the more children's hind ends that were introduced to the Giant Cheese Grater of Bal'Atorish, the closer Alice moved to me.
  • Unfortunately, my weak stomach minded. I threw up a rainbow river of Sour Patch Kids all over Alice's receding hairline. Realizing that chivalry was a lost cause, I reached for
  • my good friend Bill Cosby. If ever there was a time when I needed a Jello Pudding Pop, this was it. With a cool, but hearty smile, my sweater-wearing friend gave me a delicious
  • frozen treat and a swift kick in the tuckus. "Look like a fool with your pants on the ground and put that hat on straight." Cosby was slightly crabby in his old age. "Hey, hey, hey
  • " had given way to "Hey, hey, hey, knock it off." Cosby just wasn't funny anymore. Ever since he'd had to apologize publicly for a sexual assault he just couldn't make show busines
  • show business anymore. It was the start of the end of a career that had lasted way too long. A show that bears your name, should only last three years. It's like marriage, after
  • two years you start resorting to extreme S & M to keep the excitement going, and by year three you're experimenting with squid bestiality... and it's all downhill from there.

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