"This, class, is an example of a cemetery. Does anyone know what a cemetery was?"

"A cemetery was a place where bodies were buried up until the last century when death was eradicated."

"Yes. That is correct. It is quite sad, isn't it?"

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The dangers of air surfing had yet to be explored. Jenna had never been shy when it came to taking risks, yet now she found herself in the embarrassing position, almost literally, of talking out her ass.

"Can you help me down, please?"

"What happened to 'I'll be a living legend?'" quipped her boyfriend, Bob. "I mean, I've got to say I'm enjoying the view."

Dangling, upside down, as the tide came in, did little to improve Jenna's temper. "Just pull me down; will you?"

"Just as soon as I finish filming. My followers on YouTube are gonna LOVE this!"...

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The conversation lasted two words: Why now? The blank stare that met Angela's question was all the answer she needed. The time didn't matter, it never mattered. All that he was concerned about now was getting to the engine room.

Without looking back, she spun swiftly on her heel and stormed across the deck to the lift, already standing open, waiting for her. This was the day they had been waiting for, and she would be damned if she would allow something so trivial as a fleeting moment of emotion overcome her and destroy all that she had trained for....

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Wine, you are wonderful. I won't shout it, I won't be heard about above the din. Nightlife never appealed to me beyond the very notion of it. I appreciate gatherings, but rarely the gathered. And so, wonderful thou art, wine.

I got tanked on pinot gris and focused on her adoringly. She had better legs than this too expensive wine I ordered with careless enthusiasm. Yeah, she was a showgirl. It's as obvious as the hangover I'd nurse in the morning.

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I walked down the street with my pants around my ankles, arms akimbo, doing the Super Bowl Shuffle with a boombox wrapped around my ears. I had picked up 20 D batteries at the store, and if I was going to do something, I was going to do it right.

With the screaming vocals of Ronnie James Dio blaring from two overworked speakers, I strutted along the Santa Monica Pier. Rather, I did the Penguin Push all down the boardwalk. It was times like these when I was proud to say that I could rock out with my cock out....

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Her cheeks were as pink as her dress, blotched with red that matched the little bows that tightly held her blonde hair up in two ridiculous pony-tails that resembled palm trees. Her mother did the dog's hair like that as well. Jonathan always wondered how someone could want a second Maltese instead of a daughter.

Was he being unfair? Probably. It was something he slung at Marie as their last fight as a married couple wound down. That fight he'd carried on with such spirit convinced there would be break-up hate sex, but that shot at her parenting skills effectively...

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We stood watching lights of a city I would soon leave behind. Atop the hotel roof, we clung to each other on my last night in Cleveland. The triangle-shaped Rock Hall was lit beautifully. The river below, the stadium where the Browns played just a short ways away. It had been an incredibly hot day for Ohio; yet we held hands the entire day. Woke up with fans blasting, drinking ice water that had turned lukewarm overnight. My feet stuck to his hard wood floors, making squeaking noises as I walked to the kitchen in my summer pajamas; a night...

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Raisins are evil. They just don't belong... anywhere really. They're grapes that couldn't make it and have a second chance as rai-sins... that's right. Sins. You read it right. You have to admit that it's pretty strange that sins is right there in raisins. They're evil little wanna bes that wreak havok on all things good and wholesome. Cinnamon buns for instance. What's worse in a cinnamon bun than raisins? Nothing! Raisins are the poops of the fruit world! And they end up in your cinnamon bun like little turds. Little fruit turds that have to be picked around and...

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The red, white and black jacket hovered mysteriously outside my bedroom window, under the old tree. It had been there for about a week, and it didn't appear to be going anywhere any time soon. By the way, what's black and white, and read all over?

I asked my dad about the jacket, and he told me that it was something I'd just have to get used to.

"But why is it there?"

"It just is, son."

"Have you seen it here before?"

"No, I haven't."

"Doesn't it strike you as sort of... odd?"

"Not really."

Throughout the entire conversation,...

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"Look it's not that I don't like you, I really do. In fact, if your company was you, this deal wouldn't be an issue."

We had been discussing this for weeks, it was a deal to take in a growing company as our subsidiary. My company wanted them, as they were competition. They didn't want in, because they knew they were just that to us.

"Phil, I understand that my company has a tendency to say one thing and do another," I said to him, as he paced from his chair to the window behind it. "But we mean it,...

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