1927 4 4
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Fifi is one piece of work, from the Ann Coulter Tits-And-Ass Rattlesnake School Of Broadcasting Venom And Bullshit Like Goebbels...
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1927 5 2
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It couldn’t be a worse time for failed novelist Robert Grayson. He’s 40 and falling apart. He’s balding and accumulating a gut. His job writing technical manuals for software looks like it might get cut. Then his wife does the unthinkable and files
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1926 20 8
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There's a special block in the city, nestled between Mutant Town and Trump Towers.
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1925 10 2
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The couple drove away at the end of the late show. They crashed sooner or later, often with fatalities to the woman cuddled up against her illicit lover.
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1925 6 2
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A sticky glass. An open copy of Outside magazine. A flat part of the meadow that reeked of blood and cologne. A dog (my dog) hidden in the closet, shivering so hard the hangers jangled.
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1924 0 0
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Yahweh’s a betting deity, as bad as Lucifer at times. If you don’t believe me, look at the duck-billed platypus. Yahweh lost that time. So did the duck, but that’s another story.
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1924 1 1
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You never forget your first mouthful of monkey stew.
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1924 0 0
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The next day, John's kneecaps looked like Tennessee Pride Real Country Sausage. The bandage on his head kept coming loose, having to be tucked in, and he was suffering the Stone Mountain of hangovers.
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1922 33 24
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your mania for sentences / has dried up your heart
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1922 41 11
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He drove down there in his truck the second time. Didn't want to get anywhere near that snooty car of hers.
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1922 5 0
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I realize most automatonical authors stick to non-fiction, but if my work bears any resemblance to real automatons or events, I assure you it is purely coincidental.
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1921 29 18
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The story of my life/
would put insomniacs to sleep.
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1921 13 8
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I still believe in the very slim chanceI might say something luckyenough to reach your truest insides, your at homespirit, that you will hearand understand ascare on my part, evenif you can never quiteidentify me asits secret sender, that warm…
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1921 1 0
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Not that Dick Cheney gave one rusty rat's ass about what the UN might want. Fuck those poop countries!
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1921 3 2
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We fucked in the backseat like the verse of a b-side, and that was enough to make him think my boys were half of his body.
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1919 13 8
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The clickity-click of poker chips spills out to the six of us waiting for a table. We're old college buddies, drunk since one this afternoon, sporting the ball caps our wives never let us wear. We brag. About our poker wins, how easy it is to read each other, how we can…
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1918 33 24
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No one explained triumph
would feel like this.
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1918 21 20
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She watched an inky cloud suck all the color / from the trees.
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1918 16 14
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ornery women / in tall hats, suspender dads, kids deformed with / ribbons
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1917 32 15
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Maybe the thing is over by now. They have gathered up all the pictures and mementos of our dad’s life and hauled them away.
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1917 21 11
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“When I use a word, it means just what I choose it to mean—neither more nor less.”
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1917 20 17
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My glasses fog up every time I go to collect her from the pool. I'll never get used to glasses. When my sight got suddenly worse the day she was born, I didn't tell anyone. As she turned from baby to child, my love for her grew, and my world got smaller,
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1917 8 5
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That bottle just sits there in the closet, next to the hats and a box full of old gloves. Years it’s been there. Try as we might, we never open it. We just don’t have a damn thing to celebrate. Who was it brought that bottle into our lives and went and ruined …
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1916 11 8
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The voice in the sand: "If it has soul you must funk it."
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1916 1 0
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“Honey, honey.” He tried to take her hand but she pulled away. “This is about the cup. Don't make it about us.”
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1916 5 4
|
i am wire i am wiredi am soaking fucking tiredi am sorry i am coldi am so fucking unsoldi am endlessi am statici am past lost time fanatici am wounded i am seethingi am bothered angry leaving.i am metal i am wateri am sister fucking daughteri am nothing i am lazyi am…
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1916 8 3
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After like forever I remembered Seth was there, too. He was still on the levee's edge, but had drawn his legs up and crossed them, Indian-style. All of a sudden he was laughing.
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1916 9 3
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The year I lick so much windowpane off stamps I have to use Elmer's glue to back the twenty-center for a postcard cash request to my mother, that I am alive note at the end of term, is the year of all the "wine" parties.
"Wine" is what we put down
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1914 15 11
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During war, as in any terrible time of upheaval, burials are merely quick words and a scattering of dirt, if the dead are lucky.
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1914 41 9
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