Finished Folds (761—780)
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3A midget with a patch and an 8 foot tall woman with three arms. The third arm, which protruded from her lower abdomen, reached out and pushed floor number 27.
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1I hit him so hard that it knocked his toupee to the floor. Then, at that precise moment, the 300 lb. man living in the apartment above fell through the ceiling and landed on
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4turned green with envy. Then they turned red with the devil's hell fire. Then she rammed her fist into Chaz's chest, ripped out his heart and flipped it over her left shoulder
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4their weight in gold...or, at least, I thought they were...hybrid drugs...wow...Mom, on the other hand, was not affected...maybe Woodstock had something to do with it...maybe not
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3But it didn't have to be...it could've been something else...something much more like
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1post the rules. Rules must be followed. Without rules there is no order. The rules must be posted on Kanye West's wife's buttocks. There, the rules would be see...but who would
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3she shut up. The ice cream truck blew up. Mary Poppins jumped off the 50th floor of the building without an umbrella. It was quiet. The sun dropped out of sight. Goodnight.
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5Yes...the Sloop John B would soon be Ethiopian's to convert into a floating taco bar...which was his dream. And what could Captain Jack do about it? He didn't like Mexican, but..
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3Lets face it, I was getting tired of being a second-rate magician. I had my eyes set on making it to Vegas. I knew that if Prof. Abalone wanted to continue working dive bars it
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5shook and trembled greater than a Los Angeles bungalow during a 7.0 earthquake. Then the Gellie Genie passed gas and broke the lenses on WK's glasses. "Oh, my!"
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3Eating my fifth cigarette was bad enough, but snorting the ashes was...well...beyond comprehension. So, as she sat there on my faux leather sofa...with cigarette ash on her upper
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4My head was pounding; it felt like two elephants playing ping-pong on my forehead. I had the television tuned to CNN, but nobody mentioned anything about the bank heist.
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3urged him to want to urinate sitting down, on a seat, with a Nation Geographic Magazine to wipe himself. But, unfortunately, every port-a-potty was occupied, so the black polar
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0Of course, they weren't valets: they were migrant day worker musicians and SCABS from the Kentucky coal mines sent in by the FBI to sell drugs to the
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10Then he licked it and shoved it up his rectum. Instantly, he was transported to a tattered chair opposite the bed inside the White House main bedroom...he glared over and saw
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4"His friends call him Irish Pete, but his real name is Kathleen Schwartzman...oh, and he wears a bra, panties, and combat boots in the shower." That same soldier laughed and fart
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3"I met her at the candy store...she turned around and smiled at me...you get the picture?"
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3her Shirley Temple and a handful of tater tots. I hated Clyde. I wanted to take his face and smash it into
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3Tiddlywinks because both of his thumbs had been blown off when he attempted to light a bangsite cannon inside the rear of a speeding
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1That'd made Mandy's fat buttocks wiggle like a sperm army on an egg hunt...made her breasts bounce like a trampolinist on crack. But that was only the beginning of her trouble...