Finished Folds (101—120)
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4held vainly to the hope. No, they weren't bringing sexy back, but they WERE bringing back puffy Pirate shirts. They're not just for Renaissance Faires any longer, no sir. So he
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5saw him as a paragon of virtue, living his life strictly according to Mormon beliefs. He was good at pretending. None would suspect that in reality, he
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2marched over to the Gap and purchased a whole new wardrobe, along with a new personality. Hipster no longer, he decided to swing the pendulum the other way completely. Now he
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8up his nether regions. But then, he remembered that he was the Pope and chaste and-- ha! Who was he kidding?
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3learn a thing or two from Stallone. At least I didn't feel uncomfortable playing Sly's movies during family gatherings. Ultraviolence for children is a-okay. Sex? Not so much.
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2He kept howling. "Must be smaller! iPods must be smaller! One inch-- no, half an inch! Millimeters!!" Jobs was becoming more erratic, flailing about wildly until the nurses finally
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6herrings, but I had plenty of Gingers on hand. They had followed me gleefully like some pied piper to Guatemala and now I saw it as my duty to sacrifice them to Quetzlcoatl.
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4man t-shirt, but he didn't care. He devoured the pizza with a hunger stronger than any lust he'd had for her. His passion had the unexpected effect of arousing her. This could be
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3A feeling of unease took hold of me as I noted that I was surrounded by ironic kids in bad clothes. I had somehow wandered into a den of hipsters. One of them offered me a PBR
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3Another holiday, another social obligation. I feign a look of interest and raise my psychic shields before I join the fray. I hate family gatherings. Ever since
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2She meandered down the aisles, looking for that perfect gift. It had to be strong, but elegant. Versatile and unique. She frowned. There were so many options at Spatula City...
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3Too many hours online had begun to take their toll on him. His obsessive gazing of 4chan & internet memes had reduced his once vast vocabulary to that of a LOLcat. "Ohai!" he said,
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5spaghetti. There were reasons he was called the Flying Spaghetti Monster, after all. Soon, his worship spread throughout the town. There were t-shirts, coffee mugs, FSM hats, all
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4bared his deceptively large fangs. For this was no ordinary hamster. He was vampyre and intent on human blood. The beast leaned into his sleeping victim's neck and
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3toppled from the shelves as he crumpled onto the floor. A particularly thin book on locating the G-spot hit him squarely on the head. He blinked and picked up the book. "G spot?"
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0that it was hard to find an audience that followed the Air Diet. She had a loyal audience of five blog followers and so she owed it to them to review the best Air Diet restaurants
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1Smith was a shoddy copy of the iconic band, Bel Biv Devoe. The mere thought of BBD brought back old memories and an earworm of their song, "Poison." He screamed. Now he'd never
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3vowed to get revenge. Dozens of surgeries, wardrobe, hair and makeup changes later, and he was the perfect woman. He would beat her at her own stripper game! He took the name Candy
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2couldn't really blame her. English was her second language and she had learned mostly by watching really bad B-movies from the '80s. She could do a fantastic Sylvester Stallone
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3He looked at his left hand. Sometimes he liked to mix things up a bit and use his non-dominant hand, but not tonight. No, tonight he was looking for an actual, living human being