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"Look Martha," Kevin began patiently, "I get a fat envelope each week badgering me with life insurance forms that promise a prison term if I 'mislead AAA.' These greedy people are out of their minds. What's next? AAA casinos? The AAA lottery? AAA needs to get out of the life insurance racket and make their roadside assistance better." Martha smiled at that, her ******* rising high above the upper bunk of her bunk bed. "Oh Kevin, you are sexier than a bag of prostitutes in a helicopter. Please sleep beside me in my tree cabin till cabooses make a come-back, because my love for you is thicker than plywood ******* to polystyrene."
FROM KEVIN ON THE PORCH

Yes Martha, but out there where wolves live alone as lone wolves,
a lonely woman sleeps alone, with no lesbian beside her to
celebrate feminism and aborticide. And it's true that you
can't sell magazines anymore to anyone because people
can't read. I tried to 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘪𝘵 𝘰𝘯 with your sister, but she
was too busy reading a magazine even though she
couldn't. I felt dejected by her, so I left Cuba
forever to be with ex-lesbians in
Florida for a limited time.
"At least you aren't
forced to live
in the
woods
and eat
garbage like
some garbage-
eating people I
know in the woods,"
Martha said to Kevin
during an emotionally
weak moment
after her eyes
𝘴𝘸𝘰𝘭𝘭 shut.
Some corpses are too dead to live again, no matter how hard you shock their hearts to relieve pre-death farts. Little people, too little to be midgets, ride gerbils and hamsters and chinchillas. They scream like a Ninja. They ream you before they go in ya. They run down steps. They live out west.
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