Finished Folds (441—460)
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3We will want to whoop it up and dance upon Agent Orange's grave, but we will not, because we do not want to continue any of the course behavior that he encouraged. No, we will just
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3756B was also her bra size, which was why she wanted to stay home, obviously. At home, no-one commented on her girth and lack of proportional bosom. She could stay in
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0-itone voice had constricted up to almost castrato. Clearly, he was hysterical. "Sonny," I said, grabbing his shoulders, "Pull yourself together, man. They can't shoot us if they
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7that I, of course, was safe, being a zombie and all. The feverish pigeons had no interest in me. But my girlfriend, Living Barbie, was like bacon frying to them. They followed her
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3"We thought you'd turnip sooner or later," said General Merchandise before ordering his underlings to take Jimmy Hoffa to the cooler to await trial. But being a vegetable, Jimmy
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1tears that reeked of Sauvignon blanc. They were so happy that everyone had gone pacifistic that they busted open the Bordeaux and everyone got tipsy and danced to the accordion
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2"I dunno," said Barry Manilow between his tight collagen lips, "I just write the songs." All the celebs laughed, and the Baccarat dealer shuffled the cards for the next round. It
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4as if they'd had a blackout, themselves. By now every U.S. citizen was so exhausted by all the shenanigans that they could barely remember how to eat breakfast, let alone what the
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6a very bad cold and was bed-bound for days, during which Denise was able to signal to the coast guard that she needed a helicopter, pronto. As it dangled a rope by the lighthouse
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5Much too classy for me, I'm afraid. I'm just a tumply old imp with bad teeth, bad hair and bad breath. My clothes are all secondhand, and I like them. I don't ask for much, just a
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2Throw in a pandemic, put it all in the blender, set on "agitate" for nine seconds and you've got something that resembles my brain about now. For a real treat, you can add
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3-less waitress was perfectly normal for a fifty-six year old garbageman, but the priest kicked me out of the confessional before I could explain why. Disillusioned, I roamed
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2"That last caller happened to be an ex-boyfriend of mine," Larry Devine admitted to his producer, Mr. Shaw, "I just couldn't deal with it." "Dammit Larry," Mr. Shaw stormed, "You
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5Well, at least until People started to talk, which of course, they did. The police came by and demanded she give up all the animals. She barricaded the doors and demanded pizza.
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3-nd Cottage Cheese, a religious dairy collective where they both volunteered on Wednesdays. Mr. Lumpur would stir the curd, singing hymns, and Cadmium would write passages from the
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3melanoma? Maybe we shouldn't have our picnic in the sunshine. Let's have it in the basement, instead. There are plenty of ants there, too, just to keep it real. We could have
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3for their lack of cadence. It was enough that they were friendly, the judges thought. So, the happy songs with the crummy rhythms were embraced by society, especially when famous
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1This pried open your mind to all the possibilities that were available to anyone willing to get out of bed. So you dragged her out from under the covers and the two of you went
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4-ns that were coming out of her ass and projecting onto the wall, like cartoons that were animated in another dimension. "Amy Lee can do anything. She's magical!" he thought. But
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3..." but Haley's Mom's voice trailed away when she saw Becky approaching in a pair of green fur lederhosen. "You'd look hot in lederhosen, Leeden," taunted Becky as she swayed her