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cda

by Hand Knit
I saw a chicken crossing the road this morning. That chicken better be careful.

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cda

by Hand Knit
What do we call it? We actually haven't come up with a name for it yet. I'm thinking something like the Family Anal gently caress making GBS threads Incest Onstage Abortion Circus, but you're the agent, so maybe you can figure it out.

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cda

by Hand Knit
I saw a woman with two black eyes walking with her boyfriend. I think it was her boyfriend anyway. I didn't know what to say to her, but I gave her a sheepish smile, hoping it might make her day a bit better. Later, I was having trouble sleeping, thinking that I should have done something, so I made a donation to the local women's shelter. I also printed out a card I can keep in my wallet, so if something like that ever happens, I can sort of sneakily hand it to her.

I know I should have done more. I'm still haunted by it. Everyone expects that, when the time comes, they'll be the hero, but it's not that easy. I tried talking to my wife about it, trying to work out these guilty feelings I still have, but she didn't really understand. She's a blonde. I know that seems like a non sequitur, but maybe it'll be easier to imagine me talking to her if you know what she looks like. The point is, she doesn't understand me. Also, she gives me no respect. I feel like we should go to a marriage counselor.

cda fucked around with this message at 19:01 on May 21, 2018

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cda

by Hand Knit
Sometimes when it's late at night, I find myself falling into the Wikipedia hole. You know what I mean. You start with one article, then you click through to another and another, and before you know it, you've ended up somewhere horrible, like learning about serial killers. So I ended up reading about the architecture of concentration camps, and wouldn't you know it, it turns out their guard towers were rickety and often didn't have railings. It stuck out as a weird detail to me, because they obviously spent a lot of time and energy getting the gas chambers exactly the way they wanted them. You'd think with that kind of attention to detail they'd have made everything to spec, but I guess not, because those guard towers were probably death traps.

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cda

by Hand Knit
I was at the bar and this guy pulled out a really cool puppet he'd made, this little piano playing guy. He tried to pass it off like it was real, but I am aware that even the smallest adult human being is taller than one foot, and that genies don't exist, so he couldn't fool me. I guess he thought maybe it'd work because we'd all had a few, and to be honest, he was pretty lifelike with it. So he started goofing around with it, pretending it was playing the little piano. "Play We Didn't Start The Fire!" I kept yelling. What was I thinking? I should have asked for Piano Man, but I was excited, and I like politics so I enjoy getting all the references.

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cda

by Hand Knit

google THIS posted:

"What's the deal with," I write, and I stare at these words for what seems an interminable moment. Finally, tentatively, I add "grapefruit?" No good. I crumple the paper up and toss it aside, slumping into the growing pile of rejected ideas on my desk. Out of the corner of my eye I glance my latest failure. It's landed next to one from a few minutes ago, "What's the deal with nutmeg?" The papers are mangled in such a way that it appears two words are sitting beside one another: "grape...nut." I consider them for a moment, then sweep them off the desk into the trash can and begin to sob.

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