Dear Penthouse Forum,
It's all coming back to me now. Mulson. General Dong. A busty maid. GRENDEL. Spankings. George Washington's cape. The attempt to assassinate Reagan. And a robot that looks like a loaf of bread.
It all works now. But the only question I have is whether this is the truth, or just another fiction layered onto my subconscious by Noboskov.
1.7 million BC
Homo habilis had something, but he wasn't talking. The one thing I knew for sure was that habilis was after the same thing we were: Hernandez. I just didn't know why.
There was only one way to find out and I was the only man entered in the oil wrestling at the beach bar. My friends at JSOC thought I was stupid, but the SDC would learn soon enough why they call me Gripper.
I had a choice to make. I could break her boobs or leave them for the CIA.
What do you think I picked? I didn't break all those boobs and butts in Operation Desert Shield for nothing.
Oiled in Deep
Are you concerned that you may be a character trapped in a Tom Waits song? Be smart and learn the warning signs before it's too late. Also, it's too late. It has always been too late.
I'm haunted by a recurring vision of a skeleton flipping me off. To avoid seeing this terrifying image in bumper sticker form, I pay someone with a blank bumper to drive in front of me at all times.
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