I don't know. I've been hitting it pretty

  • I don't know. I've been hitting it pretty hard. She smiled, "Yeah, I know. It can get pretty hard when you're laying it on pretty thick." I couldn't stop staring at the
  • fondant I had smeared all over the wedding cake. We were commissioned to do a "Twilight" with extra sparkles but the vampires looked like misshapen GI Joes. She handed me a chisel.
  • "What's this for?" I asked. "To fix Edward," she replied. "The fondant is too dry and hard to be pliable anymore so you'll have to use the chisel." I cut into the wedding cake
  • & chiseled away at the rotund waist where the icing had sagged as it cooled. The icing version was embarrassingly close to the real Ed. But as I worked, Ed felt his beer bel
  • ly slowly leak down to slightly healthier proportions. Ed's eyebrows shot up to his hairline. Was this some kind of trippy Dorian Gray stuff?!? No matter, gastric bypass may not be
  • the best name for a band, but that's the one they picked. It was better than the one Ed came up with on his own, the Moon Magnates' Party Poopers. Dorian look rather colorless
  • After the meal at mister ricky's.
  • Mr. Ricky was found dead. Probably something he ate at his shitty restaurant. Well, better he kill himself and not a costumer with his cheap and rotten meals. He was billionaire,
  • but the lawsuits against his establishment were taking their toll. He had put at least half the population of his city in the hospital, and poisoned to death a good # of the rest
  • Alas, they must move forward. The legal system slogs ever onward. the cynics say the purpose is for the power of moolah, but I'm interested in seeing final justice, eh.


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