Worm Dance

There was only one woodcock at Bryant Park today. He or she did not feel like dancing. The bird stared back at the row of

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Don’t get me started on the whole drug thing.

The onion splits open and immediately begins to move.

It was surprisingly cheap to ensure the accountant’s early retirement.

Maybe my accessories were cancelling out the luck.

Men vanished all the time—usually into the next car to bother someone younger and better looking.

We leave her alone because we are not creeps.