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I punched a hole in my makeshift dirt hovel,

  • I punched a hole in my makeshift dirt hovel, peering outside. Sun poured in. I breathed a sigh of relief, I had survived the night. Punching the wall out, I walked- sssSSSSSsss

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  • "Did I leave some iron smelting in the furnace again?" I said to myself. As I reached for the torch my hand pressed upon something green and furry. "Oh shit..." BOOM! My body

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  • reacted negatively to the concussion of the exploding green haired lizard. But at least I had followed tradition by saying "Oh Shit" just before the Boom. The emergency room giggle

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  • is unlike any other giggle. The Emergency Room giggle comes on suddenly, like an epileptic fit. It's triggered by unbridled ghastliness like pussy face wounds and boiled blistered

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  • skin. We giggled for a while, then broke into beals of laughter. We couldn't help it. With the world coming to an end around us, and us trying to save a few people, it seemed

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  • totally hopeless and without purpose. Like life. Like love. Like... like... like... like Like. Right - like California! The world coming to an end in California. Who cares

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  • about sunny California? At least that's what Neville thought as he made his way to work on a cold Tuesday in Sheffield, the numbing wind tunnelling down the collar of his suede

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  • gorilla suit. He held up the Carpet King placard in the way of the chilling breeze as cars whizzed past. He wanted to be an actor, this job bites big time.

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  • He was thinking, just as a stretch limo pulled over & a man in dark glasses lowered the window. "Say, you wear a gorilla suit very stylishly. Interested in an acting job?".

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  • "Do I get to play a gorilla?" he asked. "That you do," said the greaser in the dark glasses in the limo. "That you do." Turned out years later, they really thought him a gorilla.

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