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November 22, 2005

Volume 8, Issue 22

Apparently, the theme that was here was a repeat.

So here's a replacement:

Your story must start with the line:

She was wearing a push-up bra.

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Ted: Born Old

That she was wearing a push up bra became evident the moment she took it off. No one's tits are really that perky. She slithered across the stage towards me and my gently swaying dollar bill.

"You know what, honey? I've got a pierced pussy that I'd love to show you in our privacy lounge."

I looked her over, easy to do now that she was down to her G. Smallish, saggy tits, stretch marks, track marks, and her makeup was actually flaking off around the wrinkles under her eyes. "How old are you sweetie?"

"I turn 25 next month."

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Laurence - Bellhop

She was wearing a push-up bra.

Or maybe she wasn't a she. Maybe she was a he.

It's hard to tell with sheep.

Yeah, I say I'm the guy who welcomes you to The Ritz and whispers he can get you anything, but I really just say that to get a big tip.

Still, when folks want me to deliver, I deliver pronto.

Some folks take me up on that for girls. Or boys. Or drugs. Or tickets.

This was the first sheep.

I hope it's the last. I swear, call me crazy, but it's starting to turn me on.

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Michele: All Rise

She was wearing a push-up bra and a flowery dress with a plunging neckline. Her hair was swept up in a bun, straggles of hair brushing her face. Her tan legs were bare and ended in red stilettos. It was hard to tell if she just had a romp or if she was ready for one.

She adjusted her boobs before she walked into the courtroom with her attorney, confident that her cleavage and her legs would help her cause.

“All rise. Now presiding, the Honorable Katherine Meyers.”

Chagrined, she leaned into her lawyer. “What are the chances she’s a lesbian?”

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