Finished Folds (841—860)
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7ons after six angry restaurant patrons were found boiled to death, plated on beds of parsley w/lemon & butter, and partially consumed. But cannibals are bamboozling hornswogglers.
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6I didn't get it. Why was I being forced to count scary rabbits? I just went with it. 1 2 3 4 5 This wasn't so bad 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 I began to relax 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23
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7our straws to decide who gets to the next fold!" The Rev, Fio, Fyn, Fen & "he" all drew short, so they merged into one engaging character: The Outrageous Rev Timeshare Suckerpissed
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4"McNuggets." Ron kicked Jack in the "box" then threw him over the counter, barely missing an impassive teen worker. Jack shoved Ron's head into a deep fryer. "Quit clowning around!
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7camaraderie and festive good cheer, the "have a nice day" one finger salute. I courteously maintained my slow speed, and graciously moved into the passing lane whenever he did.
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6her snow peas dubiously. I could show her my detailed records of my physiological reactions to experiences on public transportation, but I knew she was skeptical of self reporting.
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2reciprocate all those superficial courtesies he had bestowed upon me. But first I needed a smoke and a hot bath, and a slice of pie. Then I would go back, back to the man I love.
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4less than 2 mEq/L, causing flaccid paralysis and rhabdomyolysis. Tippy's muscle pain, cramps, vomiting and confusion made her miserable as she hung in the gym that lonely night.
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6not only unglued but also with me." Cooing like a baby, Ronaldo let me lead him to a ferny spot by a clear brook. I massaged his scalp with magic herbs and butter, then rinsed.
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6or "authentic" dad substitute or genuine "dad-like" companion, "quasi-paternal" dad impersonator…I couldn't go on. He scratched his ass. "Yah I'll be your legitimate phony dad, but
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2giving it a delicate thickness not characteristic of the authentic recipe. In the private room Pengu Jui's group were served steaming bowls which smelled like reheated dead things.
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6A game show hostess made a graceful gesture towards a billboard: "One must seek the price of popcorn within." The tiny Price is Right Yodel man hanging on the cliff didn't get it.
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6A chocolate cake the size of a CRT monitor, smothered in horseradish. Wearable Velveeta cheese food product busts of legendary jazz musicians. My imagination soared beyond food.
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4Capt. Cob re-lit his pipe then leaned against the taffrail, trying to remember some nautical terms. "Have the youngest 'prentice batten down the scuttle," he shouted to
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6Free of his oppression, Ms. Pac Man landed a high paying position as a pie chart for a Fortune 500 company, and worked her way up the corporate ladder by eating the CFO, CAO & CAE
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2On the other hand, the dregs from bio-diesel manufacturing suit the pigs in the trunk. We don't expect much from pigs, but they do put on an excellent show when called upon to
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3powers in the magical glen where the enchanted topiaries grew. And my mind wandered along paths of happier times spent gamboling in that sun dappled place which I will never see ag
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11ve my request to have sex with it soon. Oman sent me a polite rejection. I had a short fling with Cambodia, but it's a constitutional monarchy. Anyway, I discovered I was pansexual
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4about the maxim "just do it." The cow kept banging. I tied a rope to my plush bunny toy and duct taped the knife to his paw. I lowered it out the window to hover above the cow.
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6deliberately whenever I'm in a tiff. But I'm a laid back guy. When I'm particularly mellow I like to misquote Aleister Crowley or Pete Townsend. But this was my 20 year old chick