

A Panjake and Danish ChristmasTwas the night before Christmas, As the cliche goes, And Jake was sleeping, Dreaming of hoes,A Panjake and Danish Christmas
When someone entered his room, Disturbing the peace, Stirring the cigarette fumes, Waking Jake from his sleep.
Jake rose from bed, Is it Santa again? No, it was Richard, His dear old, friend.
"Santa? Is that you?" Jake said in his stupor, "No, it's Richard, You drunk motherfucker"
It seems that Jake, Earlier in the day, Used the clean dishes, As his ashtray.
Needless to say,
Richard was piss
Ecstasy

paper-thinThe following story is a work of fiction. All events and inhabitants are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living, dead, or supernatural, is entirely coincidental. Take my word for it: it's all made up. Never mind what the story says. ACT I; Scene 1paper-thin
This is a true story. I have recorded everything as it happened and have neither added nor removed anything. Curtains up!
We open upon an opened home: imagine an apartment building minus the façade, like a doll-house, its rooms exposed for the divine female from beyond to rea
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Two thousand feet. Getting eaten.
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It is better to be beautiful than to be good, but it is better to be good than to be ugly.
-Oscar Wilde
P.S. have I got the right person? You don't strike me as the suicidal type.
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I love you too, only you.
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I am a bomb technician, if you see me running, run like hell and try to keep up.
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It is better to be beautiful than to be good, but it is better to be good than to be ugly.
-Oscar Wilde
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I love you too, only you.
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I am a bomb technician, if you see me running, run like hell and try to keep up.
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-_-
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Demonicredemption: Give a hobo a lap dance and you'll never leave my screensaver.
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