I know he was being helpful, but I’m neither blind nor stupid; what bothered me the most though, is that I’d actually asked for wine, not wipes.
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I know he was being helpful, but I’m neither blind nor stupid; what bothered me the most though, is that I’d actually asked for wine, not wipes.
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Our eyes locked and he let out a menacing squeak. I lunged at him, and he was gone before I landed. The hunt was on.
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Rappers are philosophers, and while we’ve been mining into Confucius and Plato, these young G’s have had the answers to life, the universe and women all along.
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Somewhere in the mess of neurological pathways I call Karl (when I’m referring to myself in the psychotic third-person) I’ve managed to equate affection with violence; in other words, if I enjoy someone’s company, I hurt them.
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They stared at each other for a long time, him through the mask and her through a wispy cloud of existential angst. Whatever magic they shared was absolutely lost on me.
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What follows is an accurate transcription, with some clarifying side-notes of the notebook I lived in prior to my summer lit examinations. ’twas a stormy summer night…
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Somewhere in the 19th century, a New Zealander drove the final nail into the patriarchal hierarchy coffin and gave women the right to vote. This is now widely regarded as a very bad move, and women have since plotted to enslave us.
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The pub was crowded and loud, and there was chocolate involved. I know this because cake was rammed into my mouth before I sat down.
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