1365 2 1
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The kitchen is full of old girlfriends. I avoid them. They are munching on cheddar and sharing stories I'm sure I don't want to hear.
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1365 2 1
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I don't know what I'd expected from the week of mourning after my mother died but I sure hadn't pictured this marathon cocktail party. Our house is packed with people, food, booze and borrowed chairs. People I haven't seen in years keep turning up with casseroles.I'm…
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1365 0 0
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When I get my legs pumping, I’ll pop a spoke if I'm not careful. Massive fucking energy! And all that fat I was talking about? I don’t even really have that much of it, any of it really. My body fat is like one percent, which the doctors tell me isn’t
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And, if you look real close, you see there’s a bullet hole next to his left ear. A stray one went past his head and straight through Santa’s heart.
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One morning as Georgia Samantha was waking up from her girlish dreams, she found that she had been changed during the night into a stiff-spined book.
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sometimes it's hard/ to leave the house in the morning/ when bed is so comfortable/ and you're so far away.
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But she didn't. It would have been no historical anomaly if she had, by the way. She played with the world like it was a toy. Sometimes I wondered if I'd wake up in a box, a victim of live internment, and scream only to be humiliated later by her laughter
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the warnings we fear are the selfsame ones of ourselves
of our vertical need to be first to the heights redoubling
its intractable charm of production— our inheritance.
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1365 6 2
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After sex he would get on his old refurbished upright piano and always play that same song. We came to know it as the After-Sex Song.
It was really quite lovely, and touching. I think it made us all feel better around that building. Yeah, I remember t
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The big wigs call it aiding and abetting. I became an left-handed accountant with a tendency to fudge numbers for the damned.
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she had a chipped tooth...
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lying back on inviolable sheets, your breasts spread apart like a child’s open hands
you’d look up at me and smile
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1365 3 4
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“Fine, Tony, fine. I'm brilliant . How many times have I got to tell you my name is Donald now. All the time you're with that disgusting, “Donnie,” a grammar school name. Get some class. You own the matzo factory now. You're not just another…
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1365 5 5
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Will he do it with a gun? If it’s a gun, will it be a short one, shaved so he can hold it against his head. Will it look like the photograph he showed me, black and brown. I told him he couldn’t possibly buy something like that from a Walmart.
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1365 3 2
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Once upon a time he'd thought her as cold a fish as her aristocratic husband
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1365 0 1
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Overhead cranes balance ordinance from one end of the palatial enclosure to the other. There are robots, high-voltage, force-fields…more than a hundred ways someone could get hurt. I looked back again…She was gone.
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1365 0 1
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“Hi, I'm Mike, and I don't wanna work ... Wanna play foos?”
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1364 0 0
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Now, we can argue about how many licks it takes to get to the center of a Tootsie Pop, but there is no doubt that it takes eight spritzes of Scrubbing Bubbles bathroom cleaner, three spritzes of Lime-Away, and then a 30 second spray of Oust to incapacitat
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My grandfather rode with the Czar’s army. He was abducted from a village in Austria, trained to pillage and drink, plunder and rape, and ride the best horses that could be had. They were given the best vodka and the sharpest swords. They were all just b
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1364 2 0
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A rock group named Stuck Gas Pedal. Another named Tweezer. A group of young punk-rockers wearing neckerchiefs named Mein Kampfire. But wait, there’s more.
A song called “We Were Being Facetious,” co-written by them all.
Lost Flyswatter. That
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1364 0 0
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A large shadow cast overhead as the sound of sirens blared in the distance. People looked up at the white clouds consumed by the pitch black cloud.
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1364 2 3
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I. Europa How else to begin but with Gustave Holst's Mars--the gods waging war in romantic twilight as drumbeats and cannons blast swathes in the gloaming and glory awaits in the halls of black smoke. A visual perhaps:…
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"Sometimes things just don’t go as planned. It doesn’t mean anyone is to blame - It just is."
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. . . my mind stops idling, kicks back into gear . . .
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"How the fucks he drivin' like that?"
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1364 2 1
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Finally my daughter emerges from behind the silver curtain, riding piggy-back on a gigantic proboscis monkey. She's preoccupied by his nose, and wrings it like a wet dishrag with both hands. If it hurts he's not showing it.
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1364 3 2
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I don't mind being dead. It's ok. Really. I've discovered a whole new way of being based on non-being. What else can you do? I like being invisible. I like groaning and rattling chains. I used to be a writer. Still am. In fact, it might be more accurate to say that…
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The line weights are spot on/
and the snap of lines is textbook/
for a discipline that died with AutoCad
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