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I Am Tired Of These Constant Near-Death Experiences

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Report: Someone Needs To Get Chips And Dip Away From Area Man

EDISON, NJ—Repeatedly emphasizing that the ruffled potato chips and accompanying French onion dip were just too good, a report released Thursday confirmed that someone needs to get them away from local partygoer Ian Ashcraft before he eats the whole thing.

Obama Resigns From Presidency After Michelle Lands Dream Job In Seattle

‘It’s Time I Made Some Sacrifices For This Family,’ Reports President

WASHINGTON—Saying his wife of 24 years had already sacrificed so much for the sake of his career and that it was time to return the favor, Barack Obama announced Wednesday his resignation as president of the United States of America, effective immediately, following news that Michelle Obama had landed her dream job in Seattle.

High School Nurse Getting Pretty Good At Spotting Morning Sickness

FAIRFIELD, ME―Having seen more students than she can remember come into her office with complaints of nausea and vomiting over the years, Fairfield High School nurse Sarah Bromti told reporters Wednesday she’s getting to the point where she can identify morning sickness without much trouble.
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Ugh, This A Place Where Bartenders Wear Bow Tie

PITTSBURGH—Saying they should have known from the moment they walked in the unmarked speakeasy entrance and spotted the extensive wood paneling, customers confirmed Friday that, ugh, this is one of those places where the bartenders all wear bow ties.

I Am Tired Of These Constant Near-Death Experiences

Last night, as I so often do during my sleep, I dreamt of the lithe-limbed and frustratingly over-corseted Sophie Tucker. But midway through the dream, without warning, the lady-actress' enchanting features changed to the stern visage of German Chancellor Otto Von Bismarck!

The shock and consternation I felt at this trans-formation, combined with the zaftig quality of the Iron Chancellor's suddenly liberated bosoms, were more than enough to cause my calcified heart to seize for the 34th time this year. Within moments, I was watching myself from an over-head view-point, observing my chirurgeons as they attempted to wake me with electric shocks, harsh language and voluminous transfusions of infant's blood.

Why must this happen to me so often? Yes, I am 132 years old, and the flesh in which I am imprisoned is prone to failure. But God damn it! I am a great plutocrat and the publisher of the Republic's finest news-paper! I do not wish to constantly find myself floating down a dark tunnel toward a great menacing white light!

Yet that is exactly what happened. I felt a great sense of comfort overwhelm me. But this quickly gave way to an overwhelming feeling of rage as I approached the light, for I knew what came next: the roll-call of those I sent to their reward!

There floating before me was P. Oliver Gummidge, the cinder-block with which I dispatched him still lodged in his brain-pan! There was Y. Josiah Zweibel, my stillborn twin brother, who in my foetus-hood I choked with our shared umbicilus! There was President McKinley, perforated with the assassin's bullets that no-one to this day has traced to me! And behind them a throng of my victims stretching as far as the eye could see: Irish rail-way laborers, Flemish comfort-women, dozens of Onion copy-boys, some contentious alder-men and several dozen failed fighting-cocks!

The nerve of these ghastly hoo-doo spirits! I relieved these stupid chattels of life because they failed me. Must I deal with them in death? Fortunately, Doc McGillicuddy irrigated my colon with a gallon of laudanum-tincture, startling me back to this world before I could confront the hideous light. I fear it might be a ghostly manifestation of the Interstate Commerce Commission, waiting to prosecute me for my hundreds of violations of the Mann Act, so for now, it is better to live.

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