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The masked men stormed in, yelling, "This

  • The masked men stormed in, yelling, "This is a stick-up!" But the tellers of Tightwad Bank had been trained to fight back. They jumped over their desks and

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  • locked all the exits. "You done fucked with the wrong bank this time jerkoff" said the head teller as he pulled a Louisville slugger out from his trench coat and walked toward the

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  • the check-bouncing meth head on roller skates. Another CHASE creep locked the front doors and said, "Now you's can't leave." The methster thought quick, because of the meth

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  • still outside where he couldn't get to it, how would he get high? He noticed a bottle of glue, but as we all know, it's no substitute for meth. But still, desperate times call for

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  • liquidated equine phalli. Pleonastic agnostic platypi acquiesced to requests that Martin Van Buren would arabesque back to his holly oak desk. Charleston the dog chewed my shoe

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  • and Dannon the parakeet nibbled on my earlobe. All was going well until Martin Van Buren realized that he didn't how arabesque and that his desk was pine, not holly oak. I suggeste

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  • d we sit right down & discuss how arabesque he wanted to be. Martin Van Buren tossed his top hat aside & laid his head on his pine desk. "As arabesque as a horse," he whispered. We

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  • were utterly flabbergasted at this admission. Of course, at the time we didn't realize that what Martin Van Buren was actually trying to tell us was that his desires were unnatural

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  • and that he was being controlled by a horde of rabid, crazy monkeys with human brains injected in their skulls and that they were making him do all of the things he had done.

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  • So, you see, things don't change that much over time. History repeats itself. What was then is the same today and there's not a damn thing any of us can do about it.

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