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Mass Fiction is a long running collaborative fiction effort.

words ...

it's a trick! Save yourself, Jesus! We need you to agree to the use of your asshole as a sex toy. because you don't help things any with that hippie attitude.

Just stop. wont be used as a sex toy! that's disgusting. i'm a lesbian. leave me asshole so I can enjoy my colonoscopy in peace.

Now we begin, here at the beginning. The official has fired the starter pistol, and we're off! First to reach the big think I prefer the British spelling anyway", exclaimed Steve Urkel. "Diarrhoea. It sounds the same, of course, but it has a nicer ring to it this way. It's still warm and spicy. Cheers, mate! Here's to you........eating a 5lb bag of rancid dick cheese while whistling Dixie out of your poo.

I HOPE YOU'RE BRINGUNG ALONG A GOOD SUPPLY OF LUBE, CHAUVIN. YOU'RE GOING TO NEED IT! he suffered a fatal heart attack in his sleep early Tuesday morning. It is believed as he approached the gates of Hell, he stroked his sidearm in excitement, knowing Spencer was already there, waiting for the true terror to begin. (Not a joke, guys, my half brother "thirteen" no longer walks the Earth.)

Then it began was totally oblivious to the fact that everyone else found him utterly and completely repulsive. To him, drinking his own fresh excrement was as natural as taking a bath or going for a run. He just didn't think anything of it. He would just drop trou and unleash a faecal explosion into a Mason jar right on the subway and drink it immediately while it's still warm. If he was in a really good mood, he'd offer some to anyone nearby. Poor, disgusting bastard. Of course, Spencer didn't believe in taking baths or running, so there's been looking around for a bit and it seems this is the only place where i can write linger entries. It took me a few minutes but I'm really getting some strong early 2000's vibes from this site, might be wrong and it's just some nonsensical thing made by some artsy people but it feels cool exploring it in 2021 but I know the truth now.

There never was a meeting. It was all decided in advance, and the whole thing was a show. Typical move from my parents, that kind of thing. That's why I joined the Marines after school decided that tardigrades were the solution to the cheating scandal. It made sense on the surface, but when you looked at the details, the whole process sounded like something out of a poorly-written of gay fanfiction by an obese teenage anarchist who smoked a little too much pot last weekend, completely forgetting about the holocaust in the West.

All of this became even more irrelevant when I realized that they had. They finally used the word LGBT and there were people in the studio audience that were “proud to be gay” (a phrase I had never heard used on the show before) and in particular one audience member by the name of Michael Conroy was standing up and being interviewed by Katie Couric in an adorable little tank-top and waving his lily-white hands in the air.

It was all but official, and it was the last thing that Michael's brother, Craig, remembered watching before the guild over his past came rushing back. He was the on e who was supposed to be getting interviewed by Katie. Not his idiot brother. At least this cam too late that Michael didn't get the honor of meeting Regis. Craig cried again when he remembered that Spencer was also dead, so re-enacting that night from 1992 was never going to happen either.

Craig's phone rang. The caller ID identified the caller as the one and only person who knew the whole story of what Craig had

"I've got some bad news," the caller said.

"You are not going to believe this."

"I'm sitting outside of your house," the caller said.

"I was going to wait until you came home, and then call the cops.But then I realized you wouldn't come home again, so I'm watching you right now.I'm watching."

Craig was at a complete loss for words.

But as he sat there and listened to the chirp of the smoke alarm with a low battery, he knew this was the end of the road. Craig sighed and got ready for his own personal Judgement Day.

The caller hung up and began to perform the dance she had been practicing for years. It was unspeakably beautiful, and yet message was chillingly ...contribute to our story.


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