Finished Folds (681—700)
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2reason for Catfishing to begin with. As Jokey, he never had a single date...but as Gumby...well...the women were whores, putting out on the spot. Did Pokey know that Jokey was a
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5an intervention from the Castelluccio brothers. No knee caps needed to be broken. But; I wanted to scream. I moved toward her and licked the kraut from her chin. Then I slapped
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1rightfully so...she was completely naked, except for her skates. She skated back and forth across the ice six times. Then she took her skates off and put them back on six times.
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5When completely metamorphosed, I changed my name to Gregor Samsa and got a job providing shade to people outside of the Franz Kafka museum in Germany. Finally a good paying job!
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3whispered, plucking the wild hairs from around her areolas. "Your son spends every minute of every day watching chimpanzees eating their own feces;that isn't a healthy thing for
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3Don Wand 12-inch jelly Pleasure dong, with Swirl Mushroom Tip Rocket, Blue dildo-shaped galaxy some 200 million light years from Earth. Steven McManaman would live ad infinitum
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1pungently ripe toe jam cheese on stale and moldy banana bread with slimy poop-colored spoiled basil and a bottle of Ripple. It was enough to make me heave all over my brand new
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2hemorrhaged...exploded...flesh-eating bacteria consumed my Egyptian brain...I developed Traumatic Basal ganglia hemorrhage...before long I was not Egyptian...I was an apple picker
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3the "old" Ashram--which was really a dyslexic spelling of Marsha backwards. Once there, the girl opened up a house of ill repute, and called it Beth Midrash. Simple Peter was the
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14a really nice emerald green double-wide trailer with a giant confederate flag draped over the top and Dorothy asked, "Is that the Wizard's place?" But the Scarecrow laughed, "Look
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4es the H5N1 virus and passes it on to chickens. Then the damn egg prices go up and I can't have a decent breakfast without paying an arm and a leg. Yeah, the bells are ringing in
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2The last place I expected to be on birthday forty was inside a six-foot by eight-foot jail cell. But there I was... outfitted in an orange jumpsuit and mushroom-colored sandals.
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1long-winded, maudlin and morose poems on the underside of his scrotum. "Where would a dragon hide inside an opium den?" he asked the Imperial scribe. "You mean Puff, the magic dra
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2Obviously, getting hit in the head with a bat--wood, aluminum, or nerf foam--is gonna cause a lot of damage. It might make you piss yourself and forget your name. Lucy, Mud, Bob
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1disc jockey Grannie back in Sixty-nine, Alabama turned me on to great bands like: After the Fire, A Flock of Seagulls, Dexy's Midnight runners, and, my all-time favorite Kajagoogoo
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3...nothing happened. "Why didn't anything happen?" he wanted to know. "That's why I said NOT to push it...it doesn't do anything...I didn't want to see you disappointed...but
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4I lost everything in the fire: my autographed nude photo of Natalie Portman's best friend's Aunt Tilly, and, of course, my Guy Fawkes mask, which would have helped implement
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2swallowed 1000mg of Viagra. Then the priest rode the horse HARD off of his yacht (his, not the horse's), across the Banana river, and down Boner Lane to Samantha's house, but
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1having sex with the alien women. YES! Plan B. We had angered the aliens by refusing to say nice things about their women...woof...sex organs of green putty with snake-like fangs
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6mussels and oysters either. In fact, Peter wouldn't ever be ready for shellfish again. Holen Sie sich die Schalentiere weg von mir! The flashbacks of the German clam mauling haunt