Finished Folds (701—720)
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3And Ma Bell had a lot of weight to pull...about 473 pounds...naked...and that ain't something you wanna see unless you're into BBW, and I guess boys in the wasteland weren't picky.
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1to see my lunch...my head cheese and egg sandwich...blown out of my mouth and nostrils and onto my shoes...big greasy half-eaten chunks. "The big pieces are mine," Jeb cried.
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5the big hideous knob on his forehead...that massive, protruding, leather-like, pus-filled nodule that had been on his forehead for months, and I was glad...I hated Bob's knob, and
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3But they were five friends with 2 quadrillion different Facebook accounts, so none of it was out of the realm of possibility...but, I pondered...why do I only have 5 friends?
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2...well...maybe the STDs...but other than that...nothing...and I mean NOTHING comforts me more than shrimp and grits on Pizza. That's why it was worth staying alive! I need pizza
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0except over by the triceps machine where a Nancy boy named Marvin Finkelstein dressed in pink sweats and smelling like a French whorehouse was prancing around some 1970s disco tune
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2nearly depleted made in China nicad battery. "911, what is your emergency?" "It's...uh...I'm...uh...uh...ugh..." "Sir, this is 911. We don't appreciate crank calls from bears
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2"There is no way your sissified ass is kin to me, Sally Boy. Pissy Man Syndrome is just a polite way of saying fruitcake." More drivers looked our way and Uncle Les flipped them
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4your meatballs before you swallow! This damn plunger and drill ain't gonna do the job. Where the hell's my roto-rooter snakey thingamabob?" The Boys were turning blue. Time was
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4deceased husband's throat and yanked out a twelve pound croaker...it was all mucousy and foul-smelling. But the damn frog was still alive. It jumped from her hands and landed in
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2eggs were for chickens. But I wasn't chicken...I was fearless. Maybe I couldn't survive on frozen dinners, but I certainly could use them as weapons. I practiced my frisbee
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3the severed head of the former Bolivian soccer chief, Carlos Chavez. I didn't know if I should cry in delight or terror. I tried to shout out to the courier, but he had already
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2"Dad? Daddy? Is that you?" "I ain't your Daddy you dumb sum beech!" But he was sure that it was his Daddy, and to prove it, he unzipped his trousers, yanked down his shorts
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5catches his wife bouncing naked on a very large orange Pilate ball, and behind her, wearing Superman underwear...the milkman...
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1once firm silicon breasts now empty ankle-low leather flaps of weather-worn sagging flesh. Magic was about to be duped...her once firm buttocks was now just a bulging lump of
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2the world's supply of breakfast sausages. The entire southwest will be ours. The name Jimmy Dean will be synonymous with the greatest mass murder in American history.
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2"Jesus, Frank," I busted out laughing. What are you...like...six thousand pounds?" "Actually, I weigh six thousand and twelve pounds. But who's counting?" "Obviously you are
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4hash pizza for the contest, but it never got there because they ate it all and got high. Then they laughed their asses off at the thought of Mitt Romney becoming President.
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3snorted the bath salts and turned my rage on the choir's soprano, ripping her face off and eating it in front of the tenor. Of course, I didn't pass the audition, but I enjoyed
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1squeeze lemons. And when we squeeze lemons, we make lemonade. And then we stand on the street corner and sell the lemonade to old people, like grandma. We take the old broad's