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She also castrated her cat. All by herself...with her Swiss Army Knife. And not with the blade either.
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You did it, like, "Oh, there's a train wreck... I can't look away from the tall, leggy brunette with salon styled hair." And we both know it was certainly Armageddon whenever a woman, any woman, with large breasts which encountered a low cut top.
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This is me pitching a recently completed screenplay to a film producer at lunch the other day:
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At five o’clock Jake joins the crowd at the back door, walks through the slush to the parking lot with Betty Boop.
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Listening is loving.
What is more erotic than
these fathoms, skeins, words,
roping tight the ardent ear.
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"You'll be alright! Just pinch your nose!"
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I was low on carburetor / oxygen and my fraud protection / had just expired.
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They look like giant golden raindrops, or flying saucers, or peculiar fish out of their element
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It was a wake-up call. A sign that I needed to stop and ask if I was making wise and sensible life choices.
My iPod was full.
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Into the bowl I put Tales from the Crypt, The Far Side and an episode of Numbers. Wisked for a moment, then let the dough rise.
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[WE'LL LET *YOU* BE THE JUDGE!]
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I was driving by with a dampened eye
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Christmas Muzak was piped through to every store in the shopping mall. Giant red velvet bows adorned reproduction Victorian gaslights. Yards of glittered cotton pretended to be snow. A Santa rang a brass bell.
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1376 3 1
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Alcohol and American writers have always had a connection–about 70 percent of American winners of the Nobel Prize for Literature could be considered heavy drinkers if not more.
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Love needs loathing like cold weather needs warm clothing. And all truths, untruths and part truths need a place to live when a mind gets too sardine-packed with information and cynicism...
Some say there was a time when the light was brighter, the ear
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She turned him down again. Said it was her insomnia. She was so tired, she said, she had to work in the morning, and why couldn't he understand that? She rolled over facing away from him. He sat up in bed, thinking. When was the last time? Three months ago? Four? He…
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When the dust cleared, she saw him, standing silently, bow and arrow in his left hand. His face was the same as her middle brother's, broad and handsome, his dark eyes slits for light. This was her father. …
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Love is a strong word ... When you could have been enough.
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The lipstick on your collar walked up the steps and through the front door, without a key. Her smile was hypnotically red and bountiful. The guards standing around didn't dare frisk her for weapons, her lips were weapon enough.
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In the morning the fog boils up from the ground as I pad down the steps to the lake in bare feet. I stand at the edge of the water naked as a newborn.
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vampires seem not to be victims of drought . . .
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drunkards indulge, addicts abuse
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I don’t know how some can do it. Can they just walk off the animal in the yard or something, and forget about love altogether? Some have that built-in coldness of the soul, I guess. I don’t get it. The blood does not seem to shake their hearts. Are th
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I'm waiting for your voice. My trembling hand is so damp the phone could slip from my fragile grasp at any moment. Each ring burns in my ear and makes the washing machine in my stomach tumble faster and faster. After three rings, or it could be four, or forty, I hear…
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served as it is/
among these friends.
The frayed filaments/
tickle my chin and irritate my nostrils,
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The streets downtown belong to the people. The people wanted greater transparency. They wanted Mayor Abok to be straight and narrow with them. They wanted their streets to be level and safe to drive their vehicles on. They wanted their streets to be usefu
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