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May 10, 2007


Your free association word of the day is lush.

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David: Trevor Lockhart and the Jungle Anachronistically Full Of Nazis

The lush jungle greenery fell to Trevor’s machete. “Legend has it no man has set foot in this jungle in a thousand years, Professor!”

Suddenly, Trevor, Betty, and Wainwright found themselves surrounded by machine gun-wielding Nazis.

“So much for legend,” Betty muttered.

“You vill come vis us,” one of the Nazis demanded. “Try anythink, and ve vill shoot ze voman.”

“What?!” cried Betty.

“Calm down, Betty,” Trevor advised.

“No, seriously,” she continued, “Why is it always ‘shoot ze voman’? I’m arguably the least dangerous one here. If Trevor does something stupid, why not shoot Trevor? Doesn’t that make more sense?”

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Jeff R.: Unrelenting

She slurred an invitation which he soberly accepted, and in minutes they were on the elevator to the penthouse. Their ascent was long and silent, so to kill the time they coupled, locking lips and trading fluids only somewhat less obscenely than the outcome soon to follow when they reached the lush apartments at the tiptop of the tower.

Interrupted by the ringing of the bell that said their journey to her sanctum in the heavens had concluded, they untangled limbs and gazes, and then stumbled toward the threshold where she fumbled for a keycard to unlock the heavy door.

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Dave: In His Cups

He tried to move as quietly, carefully as he could through the house, though -- things -- kept getting in his way.  He was still sober enough to realize that he'd broken promises again, to Helen and to himself. 

"You drink the first glass," he muttered, repeating an old Spanish saying he'd once read.  "The first glass drinks the second glass.  The third glass drinks you."  Nothing in there about fourth or fifth glasses, though.

He wondered why what seemed a good idea at the time inevitably turned out to be a rotten idea so soon after.

That's when Helen turned on the hall light.

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