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07/7/25   
Your secretest Santa

Deuce

by Melora Gray
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October 27, 2003
slapped so hard his beak was loose.
But Bruce and Luce they called truce,
and drank a can of blue moose juice.
The goose he drank it through a sluice.

Norman Snoran, small recluse,
lives deep inside a red caboose.
He's solitary, one could deduce,
because his swearing is profuse.
Though some think that just an excuse.

Sorta Spellman, allow me to introduce,
a girl for which I have no use.
Some think her sullen, some obtuse.
I can forgive the way she wears a noose,
but not the day she betrayed me for produce!
Zeus is taller than a spruce,
an attribute he puts to misuse.
Storks and stiltwalkers, he does seduce,
until to tears they do reduce,
when they find his love diffuse.

Allow me to induce
a sentiment as dark as mousse,
for characters prone to abuse.
The reasoning may be abstruse,
but just to ponder: What the deuce?


Milestones
2003: The infamous "Battle of the Bulge" breaks out at when office wench Ivana Folger-Balzac mistakes Ramrod Hurley's beerbelly for a birthing alien larvae and sets into the Acting-Editor with a can opener. The skirmish and resultant standoff lasts 18 hours and claims the lives of several Crochet! magazine staffers, for whom the commune observes a moment of near-silence.
Now Hiring
Sexecutioner. Why does everybody keep laughing when we say that? We need a dude who can kill some fucking people in an official capacity, okay? What's so funny about that? You guys are sick. Anyway, pay commensurate to experience. Must provide own mask, axe, electric chair, whatever floats your boat.
Top Reasons Why You Couldn't Have Killed Your Dead Wife
1.What, and miss the prime Christmas Eve fishing season?
2.Too busy having extramarital affair to plot murder
3.Pregnant wife-killing totally against religion
4.Ha. I wish!
5.Spirit too crushed from living with soulless bitch for years
Archives
Radiation Plantation
"Radiation Plantation," I spoke the information. "Scott?" Scott blew snot on a pink carnation. "Ready the gammaram, and prepare for floatation." "Aye aye, captain," he replied as he spied a crustacean. So at last we'd found... (10/13/03)

The Insomnia of Ransom Ripple
Ransom Ripple's twisted nipples kept him from his sleep. The night was long, as Ransom's thong straight up his ass would creep. An incessant dripping at his ears was nipping, as it echoed from the sink. "This noisy room will be my... (9/29/03)

Nature
Lovely limping little lepers like to lick my Dr Pepper. Lice feel nice as honey-nuts buzz right up a buzzard's butt. Screaming beetles weave through weevils so rude they chewed all my Big League Chew. "Motherfucker!" go call Smuckers ... (9/15/03)

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