Finished Folds (3201—3207)
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3"Well if you've seen them I'm looking for them too!" and hang up. They're always calling my ex here, even though she never LIVED here. Fucking computers. Creditors do the same.
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6got crushed under a bus. Not lethal, just rubbery." "Well, it's pronounced 'deity'," corrected Mr. Dobbs, still a bit too cantankerous to give us something to worship. Either him
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2Springer anymore. It's Jerry Seinfeld. I shudder in a cold sweat, but the pie lands on his face. Public humiliation for him, but the guilt forever remains on my hands. Or knees.
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6converting into archers to unleash a barrage of arrows onto the checkers in the rear flank. "This is a trap for a mouse!" cried the Play-doh Clay Man. The line of them had but to
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2I threw open the door and threw myself out. I knew the Times Square area well enough for my lack of visiting, and timed my dismount onto a mattress stores' merchandise easily. I
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3the Dadaist movement caught on to me. They had deadly purple duck liquefying sandwich cannons to arm them in but one way against their enemy, art. Luckily their action was minor.
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4in the office elevator. You getting off with Mr. Boones? It's unthinkable! Businessmen don't need secretaries except for practice." Her accent was more grating on me than words