Finished Folds (661—680)
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3by personally peeing their testosterone-laden pee into every bottle. I bet Lance Dopestrong used drugs to beat cancer, too. Good thing we Christian Scientists have Jenny McCarthy
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3As a lil' corporate shill, I dreamed up ways to slip pro-Doritos messages into my oral report on "Lazy B". I tried, "Sandra grew up on a Cool Ranch," but Susie sniffed it out and
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4removed their leatherless belts, the universal sign of "End animal product virginity" and "Obtain girth". The vegans made slobbery, unforsaken nourishment with Jeff & Sneed's bacon
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6& come right back. Charon's got a souped-up hovercraft that we can jack. Conk him with a rock, drown him in the river. Styx and stones'll kill if you don't watch what you deliver.
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5"W-w-what d-does he eat?" "Strays mostly. Cats, dogs, hobos and the like." I petted my dragon with pride as my friends cowered in the corner. They were but pawns in my epic fantasy
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3stains coated the basketball court. Vampire Ronald McDonald vs. Yours Truly. 1-on-1. "Let's see who's served now," I said, attempting a crossover that resulted in an apple turnover
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4Freeing oneself from your stream of thought is tough when you row upstream, as I discovered. I rowed perpendicularly and eased onto the shore, which housed relenting unrealities
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5I picked up the pieces of my shattered still life, staring at my mostly inanimate self. Not even the monsters over my shoulder could excite me. If I rearranged myself into a Cubist
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3Since he fled without paying for it, I concluded that the machinery acted as a soul-crushing laxative. How an LG washer/dryer pulled this off was beyond me. Maybe he just stole it
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7Thanks to an initiative to prevent any misunderstanding from happening ever, a speed reading limit of 250 words per minute was enacted. Drunk reading was now very illegal, as was
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4Randy never had any luck with phone sex. Why didn't they want to talk about feelings on the other end? Randy refused to objectify them because of lewdspeak. His milky drool aside,
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3igation into the Munster Murders was closed. "It's hard to sell such a pristine venue as the Adams family mansion when it's covered in police tape." The agent had hid Herman's body
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1he buttoned on his denim sleeves and burst into the ninja penguins' igloo. "My lenses sunglasses - gimme." The penguins had fashion sense, so they gave the denim-sleeved man a nod
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5From the helicopter above, I dropped my son into the Atlantic. "Survival instincts are the best swimming lesson," I shouted as he descended. "I put granola bars in your pocket, so
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7my mouth. After my latest bout of arachibutyrophobia, I refused to put anything in there. "Just chew the gum. That's right, chew," said my therapist without sounding too creepy or
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5Reynard the Fox had hustled Lars into a drum battle. According to the author's note in my fox-penned text, foxes have an elite sense of groove. I hurried to Al's bar, too late to
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6like diet and exercise to deboob my male self. Since those proposals were too drastic, I needed a legit doctor's note to get out of gym class. I was too gutless to break my own leg
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5top of the toll booth totem poll. I was the only toll collector ever to receive a tip with a toll, and it was actually a common occurrence. The boss built a booth in front of mine
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3It was a man who listened to his fiancé and genuinely cared about her emotions. What a bizarro land this Super Void must be. He gladly wore a sweater his fiancé knit him. MY fiancé
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3and high-fived them with haste. All hands in the vat of chili shared a common cause: the search for the El Con Carne. Some said it was lost treasure, some said it was ground-up cow