1245 2 3
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His smartphone rang. A picture came up of him kissing the blonde.
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1244 0 1
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I told him that the beehive he had for a brain was overpopulated and that he couldn’t seem to go for one minute without desperately thinking that I was going to leave him when I’m sure I gave him no evidence to that effect at all
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1244 4 5
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Is there anything more emphatic than an ovary?
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1244 0 0
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So, before he could brew with the crew, God decided to make one last trip to Earth, drawn by nostalgia and the prospect of watching a football World Cup from the stands. That is where He met Mini.
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1244 3 1
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"The food tastes kind of...off."
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1244 3 1
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I see you’re wearing your tablecloth top again
your tablecloth dress to impress me
and distress me with all your tablecloth positions
for your luncheons on the grass
with all your famous friends
who found you on your ass
Yes we can
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1244 1 1
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The man was sitting at his makeshift kitchen table. He was forty-five years old. He wore his mortarboard with tassel whenever he left his home. Once inside either a reputable establishment or one generally considered less so, he was sure to take off his m
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1244 0 0
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“Paroxysms, well, what in the hell’s a paroxysm?”
“I think the better question is what kind of name is Gentry, Gentry?”
“Yes, that’s a better question. Do you really want to know? I was named after my grandfather, Ol’ Gentry Jones Filips III. They
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1244 1 0
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Believe me, I would run if I could, but there seems to be a low haze of molasses clinging to my ankles.
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1244 2 1
|
I am beleaguered by duplicity.
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1244 1 1
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Jack Krackenthorpe, Director-General of MI-5, sat alone drinking tea in Lee Ho Fook, a third-rate Chinese restaurant in Soho a mile from his Curzon Street office.
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1244 1 0
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She was wearing a black tank top and jeans, standing in the shade. Why was she there again? The camera hanging around her wrist answered her question. Right, he had called. He had asked if she could take picture for him and his…
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1244 5 2
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I passed the old man from upstairs now and then, usually on Saturdays.
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1243 5 3
|
And there on the street
Were a bunch of frantic pigeons
Picking over some discarded
Chicken bones
I mean they were really
Going to town on them
You know, frantic
Like there was no tomorrow
And then I saw it
A real sign of progress
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1243 4 2
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We're alone and besieged / by badness.
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1243 6 3
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We were born here. At the top of the stairs underneath a painting of basset hounds playing croquet. And a hallway closet filled with lost someones. And the police, three times a week, singing nursery rhymes while walking up to our door.
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1243 2 3
|
Now, as we sat on lawn chairs /
on the balcony to watch the meteor shower
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1243 3 1
|
She sees her mother the Sunday after Zoe discovered her seven-week-old creation, like a chewed gingerbread man with red icing, in the toilet bowl beneath her.
|
1243 1 1
|
I hear the undying screams of the children outside.
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1243 2 1
|
It was in the good and strange middle spring and the rain kept announcing itself on the doorsteps and the railings of the town. As it bounced off of infrastructure and the top of eighteen wheeled trucks, rather than die little deaths, the drops found their way into the…
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1243 5 4
|
There I saw a man
Lowering his head
Close to the plate
And just wolfing down
His cake
And that was all he ate
It was like
Solace
He was enjoying it
So much
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1243 4 3
|
My accordion's name is Sophia and she is from Italy. She was born in fairytale fashion, the way my life in Madrid can sometimes be. A great and nurturing friend gathered money from many friends in our village, to buy me an accordion for my birthday. It was…
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1243 3 2
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He paid the price for being a dick when he tried to write. The Muse did not care for violent behavior.
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1243 11 10
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1243 5 2
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How strangely perfect it is To see this man memorializedAn author, so I'll always cheerThough I haven't yet read his worksA secret perhaps best keptThe shame of an English major, the shame of a friendHow strangely perfect it is To read even the names paying…
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1243 7 3
|
Spring show its populist face,
Flies in the house, missionaries at the door...
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1243 12 9
|
For the new year, I´ve given up palm oil.
Made shopping a whole lot harder.
Damn orangutans tugging at my conscience.
|
1243 4 1
|
"...and time came hurtling behind him, gripped his shoulder/ jumped clean over him like a buck goat/ the world aged but he did not/ he spent his afternoons in an old car with fake leather seats/ drank cold beer under the olive trees/ or lay in a hammock/
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1242 2 0
|
He once owned a dog named Bark. As a kid, he was kicked out of the Boy Scouts of America. His childhood nickname was “Sleepy.” When he was little, and alone, he used to sing songs to God. When he joined Second City in 1973, the troupe was…
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1242 0 0
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