Finished Folds (301—320)
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0We Amish are a party people. Seriously, we invented the
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2converted to Mormonism and sent out in pairs once they reached marrying age to further convert the masses with the seductive promises of
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5and not the dead flowers that were sticking out of it. Looked like they'd been in there for at least 3 or 4 months; dried and crispy at the petals, the base a gooey, slimy mess.
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0beckoning with the aroma of a fresh kill. Once again, she would not be eating Kosher.
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2fruition. But I failed once again and came up blank. So, I
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1people for years... she was lost in thought, feeling dirty covering up for the evils of yet another slick talking man who could look you in the eye and lie. That's it, she decided
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1on, I thought, steeling my nerves for what was next. Just then, in the distance I saw approaching directly toward me, a herd of mutant pygmy
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2more - and even then, you'd miss out on the pungent odor that filled the room with
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3eroded from years of drinking soda sweetened with high-fructose corn syrup. The decay coupled with chronic halitosis meant
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0frozen Lysol and cream sauce made from dead
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3fleshy nubbin be hiding? She delved further into exploration to find a
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4I'll pass, it'll crimp my vegan style, his companion said in a wispy voice, weak from lack of essential proteins despite the claims that every nutrient a human needs can come from
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6now as an adult on live TV as he was now an Extreme Fighter on pay-per-view. The worst part was our mom kept betting against him with her bookie in Vegas. She racked up a
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3Honeycomb Cereal was much smaller now than he remembered as a child. Could he have grown that much in the intervening years? Or had the manufacturer
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3left me in her will after she was brutally killed by a savage pack of feral street mimes. I hated to sell it, but the 4x4 was haunted with bad memories and a peculiar
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2could only produce a liter of saliva a day for the factory mom worked at. It manufactured that raw material into the only
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4.. then again, my mind was clouded by the pheromones eminating from my mate, soothing me; she pierced my thorax to lay a single egg. Sealing my fate as the first meal of our child.
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2started picking the lice out of her facial hair and was flicking them at me. Again.
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1African American? It's a known condition called Eminemophilia and so far, its incurable. But after years of therapy, some sufferers have actually started to
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1But he soon realized he was suffering a stroke and fell limp into a puddle of tangled limbs, moaning incoherent babbles as his world went black with