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The crooner was ruining the ambiance around

  • The crooner was ruining the ambiance around my chicken tenders. "I never had a pa/ Just a picture of U.S. President William Howard Taft and ma," he sang. That would explain

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  • all the fat jokes. The audience wouldn't leave him be. The crooner obviously took great pride in his heftiness. He'd wished so much to be like Taft, the only father figure he'd had

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  • bitchslapped for Tom-foolery owed him some frequent flier miles on Southwest airlines. The Fat-assed Crooner jammed the mike in his huge innie-belly button. "Come on baby light

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  • En up." Tom Foolery and his cousin Puck were there to drive me home in their auto rickshaw. I was never so happy in my life! Tom and Puck invited me to dinner at their house. Their

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  • hospitality could only be matched by their appetites. For starters, there was an array of crudités, dip, cheeses, bread, olives, among other thing. Tom and Puck served me first.

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  • Puck handed me a serviette and as I reached for a carrot stick to dip from the platter Tom was holding in front of me, I started to feel dizzy. With a loud crashing clang the

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  • carrot stick spiralled out of my hands and I wen face first into the platter. Next I knew,Tom was looking down at me with a face covered in Guacamole and cheese. "Are the nachos ok

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  • as a flotation device; it has been over an hour since I ate", Tom said as he wiped the guac & cheese off my face with a tortilla chip. Then he lost interest & wandered off looking

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  • for a Margarita with which to wash it down. A beautiful Señorita beckoned to him from the cantina down the road. "You look like you need a drink," she said, revving her blender.

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  • That revved up his libido, so he lambadad to her joint muy rapido.She crushed some ice,tamped it twice & they blended & shook but her name was Mojita & he woke covered in hickitas.

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