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BREAKING: Lovers Lost In Fog

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Cannon Overshoots Tim Kaine Across Wells Fargo Center

PHILADELPHIA—Noting that the vice presidential nominee had been launched nearly 100 feet into the air during his entrance into the Democratic National Convention Wednesday night, sources reported that the cannon at the back of the Wells Fargo Center had accidentally overshot Tim Kaine across the arena, sending him crashing to the stage several dozen feet beyond the erected safety net.

Wow, Dad Really Went From Zero To 60 With Woodworking This Summer

PAGE, AZ—Expressing their astonishment as they once again heard the sound of their father using his circular saw in the garage despite his seemingly complete lack of interest in the craft prior to last month, the children of area man Sam Morgan, 52, confirmed Tuesday that, wow, their dad had really gone from zero to 60 with woodworking this summer.

Who Is Tim Kaine?

Virginia senator Tim Kaine will be Hillary Clinton’s running mate on the Democratic Party ticket in the 2016 presidential election. Here’s what you need to know about Kaine

Lone Superdelegate Voting For Martin O’Malley Feels Like Total Fucking Idiot

PHILADELPHIA—Sheepishly raising his hand to nominate the man who suspended his presidential campaign back in February, unpledged delegate Bob Shiefke told reporters Tuesday he felt like a “total fucking idiot” for being the only person at the Democratic National Convention voting for former Maryland governor Martin O’Malley.
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BREAKING: Lovers Lost In Fog

‘Isabelle!’

SEDGECREST GRANGE—According to reports currently emanating from the sullen gloom of Sedgecrest Grange, two young lovers, mere moments after their impetuous peregrination into the dusky marshlands, have become hopelessly lost and separated, their every movement obscured by fog’s ashen shawl. “Isabelle!” called out Clancy Ferris Radford, a swain of handsome countenance, noble of birth yet possessed of a schoolboy’s willfulness, his whims unbridled, his temper as wild as the desperate cries to his beloved presently vanishing into the misty bog. “Isabelle! Seek out my voice, fair girl! The evening hastens!” At press time, a chill had gripped the air, beckoned by twilight, as Clancy’s soul yearned for the warm sanctuary of Sedgecrest Manor, for the touch of brocade and the smell of spiced wine, and for the azure eyes of his raven-haired beauty, now lost, perchance forever, in the widening brume.

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