Thirty Girlfriends

"I have thirty girlfriends," boasts the prekindergarten student missing his two front teeth. "The one who broke up with me got hippotized."

Dang. Don't you hate it when that happens. You meet a guy. Preferably one with all his own teeth. Go out a few times. It's not really working, so you call it off. Next thing you know, you are getting very sleepy, and fat, sleepy, and fat. When he snaps his fingers, you start clucking like a chicken. Even worse, you start humming detached snippets of old Fleetwood Mac.

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