Finished Folds (781—800)
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0road a bicycle and grew all that long hair. A perpetual motion machine was no sillier than either of those, let alone all of that relativity nonsense. Cousins be damned! Vision is
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2as tears welled up in his eyes. As a father, he'd fought for a better education and every opportunity he could afford for his children, and he could see this shattered by his own
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1in my back pocket and it was rigged with optical recognition film so that it would explode if it came in contact with a full house, her favorite hand. She smiled and pulled out a
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4to reveal a man with a woman's foot hanging from his gushing mouth wound. He decided to go with nonchalant and righted himself. Her foot had swollen and refused to budge so she
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2the way up until the 2004 elections. Lucky for him, there was war to be had and by golly, he'd have it, even if he had to lie and out any CIA agents who contradicted. One is enough
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0immediately began to slip phrases like "Sit on it", "up your nose with a rubber hose" and "ayyyy" into his conversations, so as not to spook the confused once and forever Potsy.
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4so it had to be eaten right now, before the other moose arrived for revenge. His son showed up, waving his hands and making that "please god, not during the briss" face again.
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1he'd slid. This wasn't the kind of thing he normally did on a first date, but he was drunk as hell on whatever O'Douls was, and that was all the justification he needed for trying
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1hovering over him invoked a seething rage that brought him to tears. Tears that were blurring his vision at three hundred KPH. "Fuck You Lenin" he said, not knowing "Hey Jude" was
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3burn this place to the ground before I let that glory hound play another lick of his Moscow Arias. So bad it'd spawned a drinking game in its first run, it won raves for badness
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1the dystopian office malaise boils over into a savagery befitting the anguish it relegates me to daily. The untraceable, yet pervasive stench, once under the carpets, will taunt
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1my ex-wife's inability to please anyone but the stockholders makes her too sleepy to spend any time down there. We only keep on this way because she's the only one I could ever let
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3didn't even have Mel Gibson to tell it to. The robot, for his part, had moved past the booze and was now getting his hand up the leg of her brother and husband under the table.
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1was acidic and with each stab, he lost vital patches of skin, flesh and bone. Strangely, when the skin went, the blood also started leaking out, which turned out disappointingly.
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4to him to maintain a hold on either the past, or the present. He felt himself slipping back in time, but the Mighty Putty was sticking to the present-despite the better 80's comics
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3scaly and chafing. In spots, it had become raw and bleeding. Where it bled, tiny scorpions began to spawn into giant killers, snapping and stinging everyone at her graduation.
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3the world teetered for a moment. Startled, he dropped it to the floor and the ensuing earthquake destroyed southern coast of California and all of south and central America. Barely
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1he played madlibs alone on the internet and bathed himself in vodka and a celebration of hallucinogenics. The disc jockeys appeared one after another, apologizing while touching
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1wife before divorcing Linda, he decided that polygamy was not quite enough. With a gaggle of little people and miniature horses- all of whom he married and consummated at once, he
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2which he began to sell packets and videos; instructing others in three easy steps how to molest and cajole their ways to the top. Like any great magician, he left out one thing: