Finished Folds (241—260)
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0But in all seriousness, I am an eye person, which kind of sucks because the type of women I attract are usually too shy (or damaged?) to look you in the eye. They're always staring
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4I was trying to capture the static electricity in his hair. It was shooting it out in all directions and I was hoping for a spark. A little spark and I could increase the oxygen in
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5Wall Street was already capturing an out-sized portion of total U.S. profits and revenues, and the military-industrial complex was already running amok in a number of small nations
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4or blue mold. Thoughts thrash their way through the fog to the surface, but disappear as soon as I look away. I need sleep, but I'm too tired and my mind is in the Kentucky derby
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1His dog peeked over the edge of the table. The baby'd left bits of steak there, but Dad shook his head. Two minutes later, she was barking at something. When Dad got up, she flew
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2the ghost of Mel Blanc and drew a hole in the ground with a stick. Then a handle for the hole. She closed her eyes and pulled just as he was about to shoot the bazooka. The hole
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3The elves were striking almost quarterly and it wasn't much more expensive to teach reindeer children to make toys. The cybernetic arms were connected to their brains with wetware
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3and teeth grew around it. The mailbox seemed to invite him to have his hand shredded in its vicious, gaping, craw. He was probably imagining things. He always did when it came to
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3he did. He had a bus ride to Cambridge, but the return trip was in question because he'd blown his check on a Gorillas in the Mist box set. Betty Lou's fork found his Adam's Apple
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4When that everything started including my mom, I decided to put his temper to the test. His shirt burst into flames at the company picnic during the three legged race. He was tied
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1many mixed metaphors made me want to make like a tree, and split, which sort of worked in a lumberjack kind of way. She loved bad puns, she she parted the red sea and let me sew
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2sammy. It was ironic because she'd crusaded so ardently to protect the ducks, going so far as to build them a sanctuary. When the ducks savaged her like land piranha, restaurants
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5him "thug life", partially because he thought that having a friend and employee with a gangsta name, even if he was whiter than linen, broadened diversity. He was partial to UB40
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2and tried once again in vain to enjoy SOME kind of Kashi cereal. She considered tossing them, but the sight of all those all natural boxes gave her street cred with vegan hipsters
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4one huge nostril. True, the tip of his nose was gone, his grandmother was now a fiendish mutilator, he would be scarred for life and look utterly terrifying, but he'd snore no more
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5the brain has been utterly turned. Maggie T's disease they'd gotten to call it in South London. It usually started with some conservative douching up things, but not in a good way
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4senior citizens at an all you can eat cafeteria. The cleanup was a lot like that too. Lots of swabbing and cursing and wondering what god had done to punish you. A diaper like
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0red headed step children of the monster world. Crazies never got any credit really. What's special about them? Anyone could be crazy. Not everyone could become a bat or sparkle
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2any chance of sanity as the old school racists and bigot nouveau crank their way into power with the same old fear tactics. Perhaps their favorite sons deregulated outsourcing? No?
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2“Oh no” escaped my lips. Suddenly I knew what I was doing for dinner that night. I looked over at the present next to the door nervously.