Finished Folds (301—320)
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4Sure. Snicker all you want… but this was no laughing matter to Otto; he took fame seriously. He was cured of the circus ring shitting. The whole event is on record; look it up!
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6on you, my dear Archibald; but I refuse to bow down—like all the other mindless munchkins—and kiss the ring of the biggest pile of doo-doo this side of Bowlegs, Oklahoma.
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7me squarely on the side of my head, at the temple, and the evil life-forces from the Necronomicon Ex-Mortis, which lay mutely for 4 decades inside my mind, woke … stalking souls
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5“Book me? Listen, Pal…I’m a walking, talking lump of rotting meat. I only fear helicopter blades, and any recruiter with a high-powered rifle. So, STFU! Before I bite a chunk out
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4But, what a fool with a whistle believes: I mimed my way to teaching the physical science of Nok-Hockey to a clan of Asian acrobats. Then I broke my vow of silence and saved her
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3The removal business. I started small, inviting my bitch boss for lunch, shocking her. She thought I didn’t like her. 2 Ativan and a glass of wine later, I fed her to the plants.
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5Authentic Russian people are ferociously acrobatic and habitually conformist; they tend to look at Americans as obese, opulent, leftist assholes…which is not far from the truth.
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4No, I’m never going out without the fig leaf. I won’t spend another second outside of the danger zone without protection. It’s who I am. Please understand my underwhelming modesty.
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10Fat Boy Skinny and I met at the Sunset Grill…back when the Imperial Highway was still a dream…where a man with a washboard, spoon and harmonica could tell tales from times gone by.
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6Of Estolithuania; denoting that whenever war starts, it’s best to use a little musical foreplay to move your foe into a “make love, not war!” ambiance. Either way, you’re screwed.
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3batteries, a six-pack of beer, a 5-ounce tube of personal lubricant, and a terry-lined shower cap. “Did you find everything you were looking for?” the freckle-faced man asked me.
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7Splooge out of you…you hear me?!” But Tigger pretended he didn’t hear because he didn’t reply. He noiselessly turned off the phone, and thought, WTF is Ted’s Dad talking about?
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4But I decided to ignore his advice. WTF did I have to lose? My philosophy hadn’t changed in 40 years…face your fears, head on…look your adversary straight in the eye…and grin.
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6The entire event became one colossal ruse, an organized hit-job, a hoax, perpetrated by someone who stole my winning lottery ticket, murdered their kids, and then just…vanished.
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4Are you going to the Writer’s Block Party? Take the Pineapple Express north & exit at Indica Ave. Walk two blocks east to Sativa Street; then go south until you see the Purple Haze
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6were funk trunk hooks. I have no idea what that means, but I like the way it sounds…so, it continues. Now, back to being more than a student of history, composition, and geography
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3the black sheets, black pillowcases, black comforter, black walls, black carpets, and his pair of black long johns with the escape hatch in the crotch. Detectives with ultraviolet
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3flown the coop (or so we assumed), but aunt Flo had become part of the bear’s feast, the side dish, the side of slaw, the pickle, the bag of chips, the complement to the BBQ.
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3had changed, he had dipped his wick into the bourgeoisie, planted his seed inside Destiny.com, and for a moment, the oppressed stood above the oppressor, and the future looked good
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10and by chance slammed my chin down until it lodged at the base of the chilly, foul-smelling porcelain urinal. I lost the Platinum Paperclip of Good Fortune, and my boss had to pee.