Impromptu Picnic

800px-Jefferson_Park_in_Chicago

Spring in Chicago has been added to the endangered species list. Many thanks to all the corporations for knowingly destroying the environment to profit.

It was the middle of March in Chicago. To be precise, it was the Ides of March, the historic day whence Julius Caesar [Inventor of salad and a hairstyle] allegedly spoke the words, “Great ghost of myself. Et tu, Brute?”

It was 70 degrees, and the sun was shining brightly as if were 82. As any good native of Chicago knows, this was a bonus day, as in, it was as rare as an edible pre-packaged thing of apple pie, as in, probably definitely a byproduct of the impending global warming, which will certainly devastate us all, as in it could easily snow the next day. By the by, it did, followed by reasonable tornadoes the next.

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She Was His Beard

Beard

A beard is a person who pretends to have a romantic or sexual relationship with someone else in order to conceal the other’s true sexual orientation.

For the first time ever, Amber Evans was perfectly comfortable with her new job. It was simple and it paid well. All she had to do was behave as the girlfriend to local celebrity, Jack Ryde, of the number one Nielsen rated Go-Team™ of Chicago’s Action News™ in the morning.

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Incessantly

NookHD+Tablet

There are now eight deadly sins, and it’s called tech obsession. Repent!

“I swear to Jesus God, it was absolutely disgusting, emphasis on absolutely. If I had any food in my stomach, I would have thrown it all up.” Janice Troutman was face-timing™ on a very large communication device with blue tooth ear bud implants, which by the by, were totally worth it. No more wiping of the ear goo and losing them all the time. She sat on a couch that should have been replaced eight months ago.

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Expectancy

582px-Charles_Rosen

Celebrating National Piano Day with a classical pianist playing “Uranus”.

James Joo was more than excited. In fact, he could barely stay in his clothes, a Hawaiian shirt with phallic macaws and tight too-white jeans. They were too tight. James was oblivious to male pride due to his miniscule penis. Luckily for him, he did not care. He was a classical pianist, measured not by sexual prowess, but by the playing of quality notes in a pleasurable sequential order.

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