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Use this space for notes and reminders to yourself.
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A great place to keep your fantastic ideas, like, "Hey! I need to write more sentences about crickets and English gentlemen with unruly beards."
Time was, if a young man walked me all the way from class to my car, in the spring rain, and he gradually shifted the conversation from the course of study to the way I make him feel slightly off-balance and mystified, that young man was looking for a kiss - and he’d usually get one.
Much to Thingamajig and Thingamabob’s dismay, their second cousin, Dohickey, became such a talk of the town that a kissing move was eventually named after one of her shameful exploits.
Dammit - all these endorphins, and no one to kiss.
Kissing you is like an electrocution in my head.
If you should receive the honor of being kissed by Bunni, call her the next day or risk having your tongue cut out and then forced to gargle with salt water.
Despite prominently displaying the Surgeon General’s notice that “You cannot get swine flu from kissing pigs,” Miss Piggy’s ususally popular kissing booth had few customers at the harvest faire this year.
The censors didn’t block it as obscenity until ducks got involved.
“It would be awesome to make that first big move if I was in a suit,” I told myself, putting it off another day.
I kissed a girl, 25 years ago or so, and I’d googlestalk her if I could only remember her name.
"I'm sure you're a great kisser, Barkley," Henry said to his dog, "but if it's all the same to you, I'll just take your word for it."
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