2 Folds
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Another middle-school extracurricular fail. Prank phone call? F. This is becoming profound; I'll never get anyone to date me or even engage in a game of D&D. Can only get better.. -
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Clawing her way upward, Chloe reached the top. Nails torn, knees bloodied, but she was safe. Now for the real challenge-- Hindu.
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Dr Leaf knew he should be ashamed of the bioluminescent spread, but glowing gnats made him secretly gleeful. The thought of beds teaming with radiant bed bugs, shiny dogs curled at
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her. "Ehf thas troo" he brogued, "You'll havva giv et all to me." Ms. Marple shook with the thrill of it. Imagine, just yesterday a librarian, and now in her fantasy cave, menace
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. "I love being the table," he asserted. "I'll do it myself." He took off his clothes and pressed himself under the glass, using hands on one end, feet on the other. "I am yours."
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lease Touch Museum- an unfortunate name for a kid's museum -made more awkward by his nakedness. Surely cops would swarm him here; he stopped aghast. All were naked and the only cop
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His franchise quickly expanded into craze: the new South St diet. Everyone was boosting their iron, sucking on screw-encrusted leather. Healthy+ jaw exercise= bliss. Jr., a millio
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am only rehashing a regurgitation of shopworn cliches. My paper is late because I didn't write it. End of story. Will you now give me an A for honesty? Oh, and I love you, asshol
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No question: they died of boredom. "Shit" Prof Fitz muttered, "Not another class..." He grabbed bodies, frozen in snooze positions, and began shoving them out the door. "45 coeds
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and to see his etchings. My love transcended the hackneyed cliches, propelled me beyond the need to categorize my love as 'stuffing the hotdog in the bun.' Finally, poetry...
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implied, "to look the other way, if..." She looked down, utterly defeated. With a deep sigh that rattled her soul, she counted out her last cents. "Eat it,"she said and slammed out
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the roach in the corner--his only friend left. The thought of leaving his roach flooded him with dread. Prison was awful but it was home, it was routine. What had changed in 25 yea
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for stuffed into my mammalian pouch were poem bombs. Hundreds of haikus that would detonate, spilling wisdom onto the masses. Israel bathed in poetry: glory is mine. Allah Akbar.
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, "Armmgh. Slishprgh," he whispered. I was hooked: Side-mouth-speaking! The revolution starts now. Willard and I took to the streets preaching side speak, telling it to The Man
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ves, and then took the remaining sticks, rolled them in flour and plunged them into our couch-side deep fryer. Dusted with sugar these butter puppies slid down, nourishing needless
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Clara slept in a semi-recumbant crouch on the floor, unable to get comfortable. Tired of her life as an overnight paralegal, she desired escape. What was so pressing that it requir
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long years. My promise was the only way she would finally let go and die. And now, despite the rashes and boredom, plants were my life. And Becca.,oh, Becca. I ache for you. Thank
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on the black market for a small profit. It wasn't about her (although I relished thinking about her as a low-rent geisha), I needed to get the hell out of Mexico and this was how
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and cherish her, knowing that her life almost hadn't been. Violet. There was pleasure in the name and a whiff of "old maiden aunt." Violet would shield her from the Don Juans of
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because the loud boom box was pressed to my ear, goading me on. Why would someone drown out the sound of rain? Why, in my pain and suffering, did he not just let the rain baptize