God Finds Jack White, Jack White Finds Redhead

God speaks to me mostly through pulls of a string in the center of my chest. We always have a destination where we are supposed to be for a reason, and this afternoon was that way. I didn’t know where to drive so I let God guide my hands and found myself going south on 23. I cut under the suburban bridge between Ypsi and Ann Arbor thinking of a girl and drinking Coca-Cola.

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Ronda Rousey's Mayweather Night Sweat

I’m in it now.  Everything is big and yet everything is focused.  Where is that Brazilian bitch?  Where is Bethe?  She’s supposed to be right over there with her broke nose, so I can break it again.  She’s supposed to be right over there waiting to get beat.  I’m going to wreck her so many ways.  I’m going to end her pathetic career.  I don’t kill my enemies.  I kill their dreams.

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200 Loaves

I took Dennis’s keys from him and unlocked the door and opened it, and he went in and fell and laid his face in the carpet. I asked him if he was all right. He didn’t say anything at first and, after a while, he looked up over his shoulder. He was very drunk and had a dark swollen cut over his eye but not from the fall he’d just taken. He told me he was fine and that I should go ahead and leave.

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Shooting the Works with Franklin Dixon

Part 3 of 3

I turned the sound stream back on.  The hot Iranian Computer Science student from FIT who stole my phone and was actually a sleeper agent for the Iranian government, and also a double agent for the FBI was now following Khosrow “the Iron Sheik” Al Vaziri through a backstage area at a WWE fan convention before Monday Night Raw in Atlanta.  And the Sheik was following Vince McMahon.

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Shooting the Works with Franklin Dixon

Part 2 of 3

So it turned out that the hot Iranian Computer Science student from FIT who stole my phone was actually a sleeper agent for the Iranian government, and also, actually, actually a double agent for the FBI.  I decided not to try to ride my bike down to the police station.  I just sat and stared at the webpage for the spyware I’d installed on the phone back when it belonged to my cheating ex-girlfriend.

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Shooting the Works with Franklin Dixon

Part 1 of 3

It was 10pm the Tuesday before last.  I was in the Old School Pizza on Babcock Street, just south of the FIT campus.  I had my laptop and my phone sitting on the table and I was eating pizza.  My intention was to be writing a blog, which is what I’ve been trying to do for a living.  I wish I could link to what I was writing, but all of that is gone.

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