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1/30/2016 1:47:02 AM
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I can't think of a clickb8 title

I'm a pretty weak guy. And by pretty weak, I mean absolutely pathetic. Me and a few friends started arm wrestling. Everyone beat me. Male and female alike. One such girl in particular said she has bigger muscles than me. She's also pretty flat chested. My response is as follows. [quote]Sure, your muscles are bigger than mine bht my chest is bigger than yours.[/quote] I spent the next 5 minutes running away. I love my life...

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  • [quote]The cries of seagulls filled the evening sky. It was a peaceful moment. Water slowly lapped at the shore, leaving behind small, barely noticeable imprints on the soft sand. John basked in the orange glow of the setting sun. [i]Nothing in the whole world could compete with this,[/i] he thought. It was beautiful. The ball of fire keeping the entire planet alive fell behind the horizon, almost as if it was slowly dying. He heard a twig snap, and quickly turned his head. A small orange crab scurried through the brush. [i]Man, that startled me![/i] He was scared almost too easily. As John's head turned back towards the view, he spotted a glare of light bouncing from a single point along the shore. John curiously stood up and bounded over to the light. It was a small glass bottle, a cork shutting off its contents from the world. Inside was a letter, bearing a fine stamp. As if it was destiny, John backed up onto the handle of a corkscrew. Dumbfounded, he picked up the corkscrew. With one movement of his wrist, he stabbed the corkscrew into the top of the cork and began to twist. A snap sounded as the cork popped from the bottle, followed by a gust of old-smelling air. John turned the glass bottle over to let the note fall into his hand. As he set the bottle down, he inspected the stamp further. It was engraved with a cursive "H". [i]I wonder who wrote this,[/i] he thought. John broke the seal and opened the letter, careful not to crack the brown, aged paper. It read: "Join The Ham Hotel, Bitch." The End[/quote]

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