Finished Folds (381—400)
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6been fermenting beer in his stomach again. Not this time, however, as there was no hoppy smell about him and he didn't seem drunk at all. Perplexed, they sought the advice of the
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3When the leader of the giant red-eyed bugs, his jaws dripping venom, heaved up upon his hind legs and asked "Could I trouble you for a cup of sugar?", the villagers realized that
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4"Live on Fisher Island, get buried in Palm Beach"..no. wait, that's what Nathan Lane said in "The Birdcage"...what DID Aunt Valetta used to say? Ah, forget it, just eat your tacos
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4wax rhapsodic over - she just loved her little gonny so much that she actually gave it to half the men who came to the clinic, just for the joy of treating it. Ain't life grand?
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5"Septentrionibussinistrisconvocotedaimon!" she wheezed out in one long breath and waved her wand menacingly at the shambling horde of
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5ihuahua Liberation Front quadrupled, nay quintupled during his next broadcast. Americans at last woke up to the plight of Lutheran Chihuahuas and the donations started to pour in.
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9with acorn bread when there was a knock at the door of his hut. "Come on out, Ned" growled Officer McMahan. "We know you're in there, and we know you've been planting the park
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8Someone had used the last bit of TP, and he really hated to ask anyone in an adjacent stall. Last time he had done that, he'd been handed a live seagull under the stall, which
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5weirded me out at the supermarket, making those weird noises with her dentures and giving me weird looks all the time. Weird. what time is it? 10? Weird, I thought it'd be more
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5looked dangerous at all. Those foam-flecked rocks were just styrofoam and whipped cream, I bet. Just in case I was wrong, I dropped a chandelier over the edge to see - when it
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4The press corps stood in stunned silence. No President had so eloquently expressed what was in their hearts before, AND without benefit of a teleprompter. Sure, Bush had made you
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3lips - but it was an adolescent giraffe, so that was to be expected. Donations of Clearasil were welcomed, and the vat-ful they'd need to bathe him in was nearly three-quarters
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6made up of six of my exes and some guy they found living in a public toilet in Boise, but I knew that this lambic would sway even the most hateful of them. The sipping went on for
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5he didn't mind. He wondered why he'd never slipped into madness before - certainly it was more pleasant than nose-diving into boredom or diving into obnoxiousness, both of which
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4would surely be a dead giveaway that something was amiss, but the townfolk gave it nary a thought, and went about their normal routine, only slightly hindered by the falling veg.
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4themselves up. At least they were tidy - most corpses would have just laid there and rotted. It was a matter of civic pride to the town of Bileous, OR that not even death could
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4and abandoned for decades now - old residents would still make occasional forays into the ruins to search for "treasure", by which they meant any bottles of liquor they could find.
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4began to put on his balaclava. Lek Wolensa mazurkaed across the floor while Mussolini sat in the corner and glared at everyone, occasionally noshing on a giant meatball he kept in
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6frosted a cake with mayonnaise. The curse of alliterative speech was one I had inherited from my father's side of the family - apparently it all began sometime in the 1600s, when
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4But back to his colon polyps. It seemed that, every time someone Tweeted something meaningless, a polyp was born in his colon. Soon there would be more polyp than colon, and soon