You can count me out. Everybody knows he's not my favorite person. I'm not debating that.
Take the way he eats: He makes these noises. He SINGS the chewing. It sounds sort of charming right at this moment, but in point of fact it's gross. Nobody wants to hear a turkey dinner set to Ave Maria. Two weeks planning a meal, you want a moment of silence. Some good old-fashioned reverence. What's happened to that -- what is it -- an emotion? These days, it's gone.
As I said, I don't like the man. But I also don't like crows...

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It was inexplicable that two latino, hipster twenty-somethings from East Los Angeles would talk like 85-year-old Jewish retirees from Queens, yet that was how it was.

"Pull ovah and ask fuh direck-shuns," shouted Isabel.

"I know where I'm going!" Ricky replied with a Yiddish accent that seemed to come from nowhere. "You always do this! You always want to undermine my AUTHORITY!"

He exclaimed very loudly, mostly because he was hard of hearing and couldn't monitor his own pitch. Isabel was silent for a second, silently mouthing words to herself. Then, as if in an afterthought, she said, "You just...

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Flan in the face, flan in the face, flan in the face.

A wild grin stretched across his face, an expression of pure exuberance, of joy and abandon, just before the pie tin splattered the gelatinous goo all over his tweed coat.

The students were gathered outside the lecture hall, sprawling in the hundreds in the oppressive heat. Here and there, groups had clustered beneath the maple branches, trying desperately to stave off exhaustion. They had been at it for two days already: the most notorious sit-in in America's higher educational history.

As if to further puzzle the wayward boomers...

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Hungry, angry, lonely, and tired. The alcohol comforts me like a passionate lover rubbing my back. But it's a lie,it's my lie.
Feed, peaceful, accepted, and rested. With her, rather than a bottle. I won't use today.I journey with her down the Amazon. I will kiss my love at sun down.

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My feet ached, but it was well worth it. Standing in line in the freezing cold, clutching my ticket with the number 134 on it, I think I had a pretty good chance this time. The one hundred and thirty-three people in front of me were all bundled up too, scarves wound around their faces against the blowing wind, hats pulled down low on their faces. We all had sneakers on, waiting for the doors to open so that we could stampede into the store and wrestle with each other for the units the store had stocked. I looked at...

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"What are you laughing about Jes?", inquired Sally.

"I just had the most wonderful dream", replied Jes.

"Can you tell me what is it about? Did you dream about winning the lottery? Or becoming a sophisticated cover shoot model? Come one now, spill it here? I want the details!"

Jes hesitatingly replies, "uhmm, well its about an ordinary day. I was in a beautiful beach and oh, i can only just imagine the warmth of the sun, the smell of the sea breeze and the feel of the wind in my hair".

"It was just perfect day", Jes added.

"That...

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The elephant dragged its feet. Since they were made of rubber, this made the task all the more difficult, as she pulled herself by her front legs across the linoleum floor. The intermittent squeals of her back feet dragging, followed by the silence as she readied herself for another pull, created the slow and steady rhythm of her despair. Why had the toymaker failed to provide her with decent appendages? What child wanted to cuddle up with a stuffed animal with hard-soled rubber feet? Why had fate seen fit to give her creator a pragmatic bent which resulted in her...

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The wind swept through the area, sending a chill through the hearts of all those that were paying respects here, the weather reflected the emotions contained here, it was violent and broken, moaning around like hell was chasing on its heels. Despite the destructive nature, the gale seemed to gather behind me and encourage me towards a path I had walked often, towards the highest part of this graveyard. The thorns dug into my hand harder, a painful reminder of why I was here. The sun had started to retire, casting an eerie golden glow, hitting the headstones in such...

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Bombs were the last thing on his mind. If he lost this poker game, it would be his death anyway. The lights flickered, the ceiling dripped and the cigarettes had long since expired. The gaunt janitor across from him wheezed in a satisfied rheumy way. There it is. His tell for a rotten hand.

The girl with the brown eyes sucked on her teeth. The bombs above loosed plaster from the ceiling and it salted her hair. She shook it off like a dog, her brow creased in concentration. She had been squinting the entire game, suffering her near-sighted bet...

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I really don't remember how exactly I got to this point, but I'm here, so I might as well just deal with it.

"We should really head back now. It's getting too dark."
"No, let's stay. I'm sure the sun will come up every second now."
"Are you serious? It's..."

She couldn't read her watch. It displayed just symbols, like mine. They must have broken when we crashed onto that sidewalk. We're unstuck in time now.

"Isn't it late at night? The sun's not gonna come up for another few hours."
"No, it'll come up. You'll see."

We waited for...

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