I woke up in a bed full of pus and realized the mother of all butt boils had exploded.
The sensual oatmeal beckoned and Donald shoved his maw down into the mush.
The raccoons closed in, lust in their eyes.
I lost all patience watching Carol remove lint from her elderly dad.
Smoke from the chimney could only mean the family had finally solved the problem of Uncle Jed.
The wise man looked to the sky and uttered one word--dominoes.
The elevator stopped mid floor and the stranger next to me pulled out a gun and demanded to know my stand on hermaphrodites.
When did coughing up phlegm become a competitive sport?
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