Finished Folds (281—300)
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0up his pants and said, "Hey diddle diddle ugly lady." Medusa was not amused, nor the albino hair snakes. Why wasn't this old fool stone yet?
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5No, apparently, part of this program of staying off booze also requires me to make my bed. What a crock but while the judgmental entity watched me I had to pretend to be really
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4letting the dogs eat doo doo. Fat was satisfied, now his friend Fusbuster would be broke. This would give Fat a chance to even the score on the girl they were both chasing. See,
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1to smile when he thought about how tomorrow he would wear this broad brimmed hat and frighten that little girl by singing "God is in his church..." whoops he let the hose touch
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3fat. He had reproductive cells that weighed like 38 pounds. I mean, just one, cell. Think of that. I mean, damn. I'm no supermodel but that dude needs to tighten it up.
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2Such is the life outside 7-11 in Hampsburg, Virginia. All I wanted was a pack of smokes, a Coke Zero and those pizza flavored pretzel roll things. You see, I'd just quit my
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3The kind of stares that one gives an enemy who has bested you. You know that impotent but rageful stare? That sort of I could kill you but I am weak stare. He was attracting those.
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2occurring below his legs. The occular implants were in his knee caps. Whenever he almost broke a leg, he'd have a dream that he was an actor. I pulled his leg once and he dreamed
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3And the Were-Hamster dropped from the ceiling, he was wearing tiny chaps, a cowboy hat and then the DJ punched in, "Low Places" by Garth Brooks. The festive but evil line dancing
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6yelled the beefy CVS clerk. I was in luck. She hadn't noticed that I had knocked over the tampon display. I grabbed some Gold Bond anti-powder and nonchalantly
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5Yes, this was Orville Redenbacher's finest hour. The pain he'd inflicted on his 12-year old victim made him nostalgic. He wanted to lop off his victims toes, one by one and
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2needed to figure out where to hang that awful picture. Luis Suarez had a lot of wall space. The "painting" if you could call it that, was done by a Dutch flunky named
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9They were Gordon's fishstick fisherman. The worst of the lot. The squalls threatened, blood was in the air. Today was a good day to die because I am, forever, Julius Flounder.
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3Here is what was written on the remaining parchment: "White out don't make it bad Take a Type-O and make it better Remember the letter and flow chart, Then you can start
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4and red all over. The Satanic Cow took flight and morosely mooed over the town. It's udders of hate twitched in evil desire. The Cow's eyes glowed sickly green when it saw the town
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2thought that Paul Hogan was a terrible representative of Australia. They thought he was sort of the Foster's beer of actors. No, they needed "gravitas."
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1the luxury machine was a fickle thing.
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5Hannibal smiled knowingly at his dinner guests.
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4the way her mom acted when I showed her Grandma Bagg's corn pudding recipe. But my thinking was flawed, so flawed. Cassandra was a tactile learner, so, you know what that means.
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5I wanted Arnold to see my plaice for the Halibut. I wanted to cuttle with Arnold. It was a tail of love. He had me hook line and sinker. I floundered to find the right words.