People exiting the Proles said that the voting papers looked rigged. One woman reported looking for the her chosen candidates name but could only find Sugar Cane and when she sought to choose his running-mate there was a similar error Imp Palin.

There has been confusion all over this Mid-Western town today as voters have scrambled from prolling booth to prolling booth to find ballot papers without spelling errors to the names of the candidates for president. Some people have said that the whole matter was a plot by the Burning Bush outgoing President to try and secure another term....

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"I'm with stupid." It was the dumbest t-shirt he'd ever owned. He liked it anyway, but she gave it away. Someone at the homeless shelter would receive an "I'm with stupid" t-shirt this Wednesday at giving time. God he missed her, even though she gave away that t-shirt. He missed the way her face lit up looking at every snowflake that fell in the winter.

He missed her light brown hair sitting upon her bare shoulders in summer; the way she she would groan at him for wearing the "I'm with stupid" t-shirt. She used to dance to "Video Killed...

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The gate closed behind them. It was the the beginning of their new life in that house in New Orleans; the wrought iron gate with the heart on it that shielded the home from the street. The climbing foliage on the side door and back of the house was called 'character.' The gravel driveway, the bright white shutters, and the citrus tree were just a few of the home's attractions.

"Nola" nightlife, the beautiful summers in Louisiana, and their love for all things unique were instant attractions. The couple first saw this house on vacation, and it wasn't for sale....

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He ran into the room, his heart pounding, and his clothes soaking wet. The pool house was quiet, Jessica had left an hour ago to explore the local town with Daniel in tow, and Mother was still outside cackling as his brother danced his best victory dance.
Where to hide? He knew that he couldn't get the furniture wet, his Mother was volatile at the best of time and damp upholstery was a sure fire way to ruin everyone's afternoon.
He walked through into the small conservatory he had helped his father build round back the summer before last, it...

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As the Sun rose from His slumber,
She began to stir
in her little house of wood,
a coffin just for her.

Each day,
she hears them scrape
away the earth with shovels,
waiting until
finally
her final bed is done
forever for her to lay.

In the morning,
she awakes,
dead to others
yet alive in her dreams,
to the sound of falling stones
as they cover her coffin.

And, as the final stone fell,
she said a silent prayer, asking for
sweet dreams for her to keep.

And as the earth lay there,
the mound dug in the...

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I've forgotten how to do this...how to just sit down, and type out my thoughts, or my feelings. I find that I'm constantly carrying my notebook around, with my favourite Pilot pens...and then I will sit, and I sit, and sit...and nothing happens anymore. In my room, in boxes and boxes, are books and books and books. Countless stacks of written word from a lifetime's worth of contemplation, emotion, trials and tribulations. But now....now I cannot seem to pick up the pen, or tap on my keyboard...it just doesn't happen. And what's most frustrating is how I am constantly thinking...

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I clung to the mast as the sea tossed them from wave crest to furrow and back again. This was not what I'd thought it would be when I volunteered to document the tallship's maiden voyage.
The curse of the weatherman'd struck at the worst of times. The forecasters had confidently predicted firm winds but that the real storm would happen far south of the ship. They'd proudly proclaimed fair weather for the day's sailing with winds at our backs and sun overhead.
I wondered what they thought, staring at their radars and maps, tallying numbers, crunching data. Did their...

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"Damnit Christine, god damnit, call 911!" I shouted, dropping my sisters limp body on the bed. There was froth around her mouth, and her eyes were closed. Her lips were bee-stung swollen and blue.

It was too late. Here dark curls were tangled in my lap, wet with leave in them.

I turned her on her side, and water dribbled from her mouth. CPR, how did it go? It didn't matter. My little girl was gone. That foam told me all I needed to know.

My sister came in, the phone in her hand.

" they are coming."

" tell...

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Until now, she’d never thought of herself as pretty. Beautiful, yes. Stunning, definitely. An angel fallen to earth, she’d occasionally even heard that one. But ‘pretty’? Pretty was little girl sweet and candy floss innocence. It was not her because it was not enough. Pretty just didn’t cut it.

She stared at herself in the mirror. She’d been doing the same thing for an hour now, barely moving, hardly breathing, not wanting a hair to fall out of place. Pretty was an insult. She couldn’t bear to hear it again, so she was going to make sure she didn’t. That...

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Gene Answer was a cool cat. He worked at a machine shop in Las Vegas. After ten years, he was laid off. No pension, no unemployment.
He had to leave his house and move into some hot-bed hotel to save his money. After that, he started to get pissed off. Eating balogna sadwiches on white bread was not his style.
Gene went to the local 7-11 dressed up in a ski mask and demanded all of their money. The clerk asked him if he wanted change. Gene simply brought out his wallet and demanded change for a $20.

The clerk,...

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