Finished Folds (61—80)
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2rubbed out my cigarette against my wrist, a ritual I often resorted to in order to feel something from all the years of junk dulling my nervous system. "Well well well, if it isn't
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4to her dismay the leathery cockroaches had formed a compact barrier, preventing her from escaping. She made the mistake of screaming and immediately the beasts flooded into her
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3narrow line between being a lovable asshole and an outright douchebag. He ran his hand across his five o' clock shadow in the mirror. His brother, Kevin, would be coming to live
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6nadquate Radio-Unfriendly FCC Dodger, pirate radio doofus taking to the airwaves again with his anti-government, hippydippy alternative rawk and roll music that the kids all love
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4shots that were plastered all over the 9oclock news. We'd sent a message to the rest of the clowns when we pipe bombed that orphanage. We were not to be fucked with, we were the OG
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3I noticed the man in a blue suit appear infront of me out of the aether, briefcase in hand. I'd seen him before. After the battle with the Nihalanth. The Fed, the G-Man, my benefac
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1had a face only a Korean man with a sick sense of humor could love. Like really, really sick, we're talking Ted Bundy levels of sick here. Nevertheless, his condition had earned hi
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2the length and stiffness of her wand and how she wanted nothing more than for Snape and Dumblydore - who had been played by five different actors by this point - to ravage her body
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5He could never enjoy the pleasures of life that all the normaldongs got to enjoy. He could never go swimming, ride a bicycle, or make love to a woman, he contemplated suicide often
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2had finally gotten a taste for my personal favorite fetish: scat. I popped the question to her "How much will it cost me for you to let me drop a duce between those ubbs of yours?"
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2I put my back to the door and slid to the ground. I began sobbing and buried my face in my hands; I was just like the rest, another mindless drone, writing "Five Nights" fanfiction
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2jotted down the words quickly and efficiently, just the same way as she gave handys. I remembered a piece of advice I'd picked up, "Date a handy, marry a blowy", Brian Quinn had
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6Mister Moustache. Fill me in on your new vision, wake me up with indecision, help me trust your mighty wisdom. Yes, I eat cow, I am not proud, and neither was she, looking up at me
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2I could just manage to get off ketamine, but I couldn't. The drugs were too powerful, and no girl, even if she was as fat as an aircraft carrier was going to get between me and my
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2immediately stopped what I was doing and took a long hard look at my life. Was this it? Had I really been reduced to writing "Five Nights" fan fiction? I stared at the man in the m
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3corner with the speed of speedy gonzalez, which is was quite impressive. I shoved my flaccid organ back into my levis and chased after the bastard.
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5justice; execution by particle acceleration. I had heard CommanderVideo and Junior Melchkin talk about these concepts several times before, but I had never seen an infinity chasm
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4But we were dead wrong. Nick Trophy's influence over our physical makeup nullified the effects of the Pope's sygils, and began to rapidly reduce our living sells to universal dark
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2I'd eaten an entire jar of pickled okra and my bowels were on the verge of bursting at the seams if I didn't get the boiling hot mess of salty brine inside of my stomach out of me
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1But, you do what you gotta do to survive in prison, even if it means taking it up the arse for a few sprigs of parsley to make a nice vinaigrette in the toilet bowl. I cooked a lot