Finished Folds (1281—1300)
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1spilled, idiomatically. "I stole these boots from that slab of meat," he said. "It once was Robert's. He had a blonde dreadlocked terrarium on that skull." An insect crawled out
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5was a beaver deceiver. Lesson learned, so she burned his telephonic receiver. "Your XXX assistants," said his ex-listless ex-missis, "Are a fist assist from bloody mist existence."
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6aloud, within earshot of the interpretive stenographer. She kept a physical record of the proceedings with dance. "Hey, I'm not plotting Mr. Blitzer's demise," I claimed as she mim
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2on his To Don't list, but if his Zoosk profile is to be believed, the Pope is looking for a friend with benefits. Maybe I'll take him up on that, TOM. Ugh... My producer says that
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4-se bed she'd slept all day. "It was Robert, wasn't it, Suzy?" he accused. Suzy's husband clenched his fist and turned her into a Black Eyed Susan. But she rose up and defended her
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1a floatie made by Acme. One of them tried to swim up and cling to a chunk of ice, but the head of a large grandmother leaned in and chewed the ice to a fine powder. The lake was
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4courted college gals to his "deflower bed" and washed down Bacardi with chocolate Muscle Milk. A man amongst boys, that M80. He and Chaz, his brotégé, slashed the drunk bus's tires
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4"You're an "E" away from 'H-O-R-S-E'," Jim said. "Now you have to do a Vince Carter windmill slam with a split landing. If you fail, that sponge cake is mine." A split? Ever since
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4Our 60-second speed date was off to a rocky start. "Don't be so jealous," I said, mopping up my blood. "I'm supposed to talk to other men. That's the point." "Adulterous wench!" he
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2by subliminally rearranging his Alpha-Bits. "Time to visit the in-laws, Chuckles," said Nancy, with her female mind trickery. Chuck initiated Thought Shutdown Sequence Beta. Drool
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3"Misery? There's an app for that!" The TV had my attention. "Dance around like a pink silhouette in no time with the App Recycler, the app that turns art apps into useful ones like
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4a tail to a donkey - haphazardly and blindfolded. This time she could smell my burrito. "Dear, could you come back later? My pocket's hot, if you get my drift." My mom bummed me o
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3It'd explain why his car bumped into other cars in a jealous rage. "Aw, I was looking at that 2012 BMW," he moaned as the sun guard flew into place. "She's too young for you," said
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6Food Lion. The sneeze guard had long since surpassed its sneeze threshold, but he scooped some cukes with the rusty ladle, unfazed. "Ladle-to-the-Grave," quipped the coroner after
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6and in danger. It was as if they were in a zone -- of danger. The Man listened in on their shrieks of existential horror. Ted tried to hide behind the Lowfat Red Raspberry Muffins,
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3-ppodromes to bet on the seahorse races. I found myself approaching hi-m in the 7th row once again. "Your lucky seat, huh, Det. Manatee?" I asked, placing the tracking device in hi
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6The black hole punch on Darlene's desk could tear through card stock AND the fabric of space-time. I was sure of it; I'd seen a special on NOVA. I cautiously approached her cubicle
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8I decided he was, and flipped to page 27 of the adventure book: "Will unzipped his panda suit, sucking you into the Fall of Despair." I chose wrong. Back to page
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4The Nomads charged ahead in their bulldozers. Better to teach The Settlers about the perils of home ownership before it was too late. They plowed through the cottage of an elderly
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5constructive criticism and polite discussion. "Perhaps you should keep your hands closer to your chest," a frenchman suggested. I respected his opinion and calmly removed my tu