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Patrick in my house... |
April 12th, 2008
Bob's name was Jim. He was sad, so he visited a depressing graveyard to cheer up. Then, Hilary Clinton came out of nowhere and gave him a cookie. She left. Bob who was Jim went to pick up random golf balls at a Golfing Range. The only problem was that the golfers were still playing. Golf balls flew in the air and hit Bob who was Jim. He laughed. Then, he went to a happy birthday party, and cried. He ate some beef jerky. Then a bird attacked him. He ended up in the ER. Then he threw food at the doctors. They disappeared. Weird. He played with some dominoes. They exploded. The end.
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i don't like hilart
i don't like hilart clinton
what other dungeon is so dark as one's own heart!
what jailer so inexorable as one's self! -- nathaniel hawthorne
Me neither. My friend and I
Me neither. My friend and I at school are making a fractured fairy tale called Hilary Clinton and the Three Hobos.
Where there's smoke, there's fire.