Finished Folds (81—100)
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5-hy do you always try my entree? Order everything you piggy pig pig-faced pig! Look, I don't hate omnivores. It's just, you eat whatever you want and you're skinny. I'm a fat vegan
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5the yard, which really got the jury on my side. When our stomp faded to a tap, my court-appointed lawyer spoke up. "Your Honor, that dentist is negli-... Yuck, is that aftershave?"
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7was delicious. Now that there was no one around to judge, the dog dragged his anus along the carpet. A parrot flew in and asked, "Bawk, ever feel like a stereotype? Bawk, ever feel
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6-gly, no wonder I had all these bitchy breakups. I tried to mask my ugly with "de style" and trendy soft drinks to no avail. Brian burped a grapefruit burp on Freddie. Burp on me,
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5was ewww get it off. "What's the problem, dear?" asked King Macbeth. I replied, "Bloody hands ill befits a lady of my station." I summoned the royal chef to make milkshakes, cheesy
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3Pure, uncut scandal. Turns out the King of Mars was an earthling with blue face paint. Tharkas Zad pumped up the A/C as he watched the king's head roll down Olympus Mons. Gravity?
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3Their muse was the violin; Isla's muse was barrel proof bourbon. In a muse deathmatch, bourbon would curb stomp a violin, Isla realized. She asked the Highly People to quit playing
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4I sashayed through the self-checkout lane because, you know. A fair peahen with a Wal-Mart motorized shopping cart said, "You're naked." Very astute. I always did like smart girls
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7-d calculating Shamu's splash radius. "Every drop of water is like a rainbow fetus," he would think as he distributed ponchos. He charmed his way to a Sea World desk job. What fun
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5The crooner was ruining the ambiance around my chicken tenders. "I never had a pa/ Just a picture of U.S. President William Howard Taft and ma," he sang. That would explain
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3into a werebridezilla. Wedding planners beware! "The invitations don't reference my favorite sitcom," I growled, gnawing on flesh. I buried my bridal gown in the moonlit forest
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3-ured Kid Rock on multiple studio albums." A judge hit the gong, commencing the Mr. America swimsuit round. Kevin rocked his patriotic skivvies. Brad had "I Luv Putin" tattooed on
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6until a blind Mickey walked in with Pluto on a leash. "Th-th-th-that's all folks!" Porky said. Goofy protested, "But ain't Godot a-comin'?" An Act 3 was improvised. The crowd aged
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6mogul-est of advertisers slid down Santa's chimney. "Hi, Tony Horton here. It looks like your pecs could use a Christmas miracle." Santa got his sweat on for three easy payments of
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3and paying for it. I stole a "couch" and set it up in my room. Weeks passed; no shrinks showed up. I just assumed all couches release a pheromone that attracts psychiatrists. Sadly
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1parasite the cosmos should flush out, but they pity your unrefined taste. Father Time used to jam to cavemen rhythmically banging rocks, but even he graduated to the Rolling Stones
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1The DNA test was brought out. "Mary, you ARE the mother." No drama there. "Holy Spirit, you ARE the Father." Joseph wept. The Maury hive spewed such vitriol as "Boo, Mary, boo" and
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3He became a crazy cat guy. You know the type: crazy, lots of cats, male. The postman knocked loudly. "Mr. Exum, your mailbox is full of cats. May I remove them?" His big mistake
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4Iona went with "Tourniquets of Suburbia." Yeah, that was emo as hell. Next up for her fake band was staying underground. Having songs is mainstream and commercialist, but T-shirts
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4Maybe I should invest in a plunger or a drill with superior grip. "Is your lasagna burnt too?" Uncle Joe asked Cousin Noah. I must have set the microwave to slow roast. "Boys, chew