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<channel>
	<title>Name Your Tale</title>
	
	<link>http://www.nameyourtale.com</link>
	<description>100-Word Stories: You Name Them, We Write Them</description>
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		<title>I was staring into a pond….</title>
		<link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/nameyourtale/~3/nvN-b1GhA4U/</link>
		<comments>http://www.nameyourtale.com/i-was-staring-into-a-pond/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Mon, 09 Nov 2009 18:27:31 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>admin</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Stories]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[nick faber]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Stories by Nick Faber]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.nameyourtale.com/?p=2276</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[A koi pond. My little heart was racing.
I hated birds. Dad knew it. He would know I did it on purpose.
When Dad moved out, I had thought my joy would double. Two Christmases, two birthdays, and amazing presents, each parent would have to try harder. But Dad bought a coy pond. Then a parakeet. Then [...]]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>A koi pond. My little heart was racing.</p>
<p>I hated birds. Dad knew it. He would know I did it on purpose.</p>
<p>When Dad moved out, I had thought my joy would double. Two Christmases, two birthdays, and amazing presents, each parent would have to try harder. But Dad bought a coy pond. Then a parakeet. Then a doberman.</p>
<p>He forgot to buy me a birthday present.</p>
<p>Dad came home. Out back, I was staring into the koi pond like I hadn&#8217;t let the bird loose. Like I hadn&#8217;t called the dog&#8217;s attention to it, emancipated and flightless.</p>
<p>It was beautiful.</p>
<p>***<br />
Title by: ponderthis1<br />
Story by: Nick </p>
<div class='wp_likes' id='wp_likes_post-2276'>
<div style='display:none' class='text'><b>0</b>  like this story.</div>
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		<item>
		<title>Marvellous Hairy in 100 Words</title>
		<link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/nameyourtale/~3/Qbg6qL1Hq-w/</link>
		<comments>http://www.nameyourtale.com/marvellous-hairy-in-100-words/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Mon, 09 Nov 2009 15:38:13 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>admin</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Uncategorized]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Guest Authors]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Stories by Mark A. Rayner]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.nameyourtale.com/?p=2271</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[So hair is sprouting in unspeakable places and you can no longer carry a tune, but if you&#8217;re a surrealistic artiste with an addiction to Freudian mythology and guilt-free sex, turning into a monkey has its upsides.
Nick may be evolving as a novelist, but his friends aren&#8217;t too sure about his DNA &#8212; at least, [...]]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>So hair is sprouting in unspeakable places and you can no longer carry a tune, but if you&#8217;re a surrealistic artiste with an addiction to Freudian mythology and guilt-free sex, turning into a monkey has its upsides.</p>
<p>Nick may be evolving as a novelist, but his friends aren&#8217;t too sure about his DNA &#8212; at least, not since Gargantuan Enterprises started experimenting with it.  When they figure out what&#8217;s happening to him, they set things right. <em>Marvellous Hairy</em> is a satirical novel about a some friends sticking it to <em>the man</em> with equal parts grain alcohol and applied Chaos Theory.</p>
<p>***<br />
By: Mark A. Rayner<br />
Want to know more about <a href="http://marvelloushairy.ca" target="_blank">Marvellous Hairy</a>? </p>
<div><b>1</b>  like this story.</div>
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		<item>
		<title>when you go public i will buy a controlling interest</title>
		<link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/nameyourtale/~3/Np6v_gyuZeg/</link>
		<comments>http://www.nameyourtale.com/when-you-go-public-i-will-buy-a-controlling-interest/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Fri, 06 Nov 2009 19:04:07 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>admin</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Stories]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Guest Authors]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Stories by Kevin Thom]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.nameyourtale.com/?p=2269</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[Your son of a bitch boyfriend holds all your interest now, doesn’t he? I’m a patient man, though. I can wait. By all accounts, he hasn’t got the manpower to keep you in his holdings. The bubble will burst. And when you’re ready to divest yourself of him, I shall launch my hostile takeover bid. [...]]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>Your son of a bitch boyfriend holds all your interest now, doesn’t he? I’m a patient man, though. I can wait. By all accounts, he hasn’t got the manpower to keep you in his holdings. The bubble will burst. And when you’re ready to divest yourself of him, I shall launch my hostile takeover bid. I can hardly wait to split your Class B shares. I’ll penetrate your markets until they’re completely saturated. I’ll massage your figures. You’ll be astounded at how I liquidate your assets. Afterwards, I’ll day-trade you for something else. Pump and dump, baby. Pump and dump.</p>
<p>***<br />
Title by: rajeev<br />
Story by: <a href="http://www.kevinthom.com/" target="_blank">Kevin Thom</a> </p>
<div><b>5</b>  like this story.</div>
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		<item>
		<title>The Tragic Death of a Fairy Tale</title>
		<link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/nameyourtale/~3/INQ5VW-eyIY/</link>
		<comments>http://www.nameyourtale.com/the-tragic-death-of-a-fairy-tale/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Thu, 05 Nov 2009 17:17:46 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>admin</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Stories]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Stories by David Blackstone]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.nameyourtale.com/?p=2267</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[As alleys go, it was ordinary. Rain soaked, piles of trash everywhere, dumpsters, some cardboard. The body was gone already, carted away by the coroner&#8217;s van, but the chalk outline remained, along with the tattered and blood-soaked cloak.
&#8220;What&#8217;s the story here?&#8221; the detective said, gesturing with his coffee cup.
&#8220;Female minor, street name of &#8216;Red&#8217;. Double [...]]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>As alleys go, it was ordinary. Rain soaked, piles of trash everywhere, dumpsters, some cardboard. The body was gone already, carted away by the coroner&#8217;s van, but the chalk outline remained, along with the tattered and blood-soaked cloak.</p>
<p>&#8220;What&#8217;s the story here?&#8221; the detective said, gesturing with his coffee cup.</p>
<p>&#8220;Female minor, street name of &#8216;Red&#8217;. Double tap to the head, execution style.&#8221;</p>
<p>&#8220;Do we think the wolf got her?&#8221;</p>
<p>&#8220;Not unless he&#8217;s started using a Glock recently. We&#8217;ll pick him up for questioning anyway.&#8221;</p>
<p>The detective took a sip of coffee, and shook his head slowly. &#8220;What a waste.&#8221;</p>
<p>***<br />
Title by: tub<br />
Story by: David </p>
<div><b>3</b>  like this story.</div>
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		<item>
		<title>Wings of Fire, Breath of Ice</title>
		<link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/nameyourtale/~3/XcSVRFS1tT0/</link>
		<comments>http://www.nameyourtale.com/wings-of-fire-breath-of-ice/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Wed, 04 Nov 2009 18:29:47 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>admin</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Stories]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Stories by Jeremy S. Griffin]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.nameyourtale.com/?p=2265</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[The ape-man growled at Thorne as he trudged up the mountain.
“Faster,” he pleaded, “It is dangerous to linger.”
Thorne’s muscles burned. His armor dug into his skin, tearing at the blisters created by weight and friction.
“Tell us, beast,” Thorne bellowed, “do you expect us to make this journey in one night?”
The small, hairy man laughed, “Lest [...]]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>The ape-man growled at Thorne as he trudged up the mountain.</p>
<p>“Faster,” he pleaded, “It is dangerous to linger.”</p>
<p>Thorne’s muscles burned. His armor dug into his skin, tearing at the blisters created by weight and friction.</p>
<p>“Tell us, beast,” Thorne bellowed, “do you expect us to make this journey in one night?”</p>
<p>The small, hairy man laughed, “Lest we become dinner for the Dragon of Disdonia.”</p>
<p>Disdonia. Thorne’s mind raced to his past and he imagined his home village burning, his mother’s wails, the blood racing down his brother’s chin.</p>
<p>“We will wait,” Thorne said, “and we will fight.”</p>
<p>***<br />
Title by: Dee<br />
Story by: Jeremy </p>
<div><b>1</b>  like this story.</div>
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		<item>
		<title>I wanna be a chiquita banana!</title>
		<link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/nameyourtale/~3/o7S9srnRaKc/</link>
		<comments>http://www.nameyourtale.com/i-wanna-be-a-chiquita-banana/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Tue, 03 Nov 2009 19:05:41 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>admin</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Stories]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Guest Authors]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Stories by Bill Henderson]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.nameyourtale.com/?p=2262</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[Hello, I’m Chad, I’m an off-brand banana, I suck, and my life is puke. Oh, it’s not? What the hell do you know about it, chiquita? You heard me, chiquita. You get the prime shelf space, you grow on the best trees, in the best rain forests. You travel in refrigerated tankers, no tarantulas. I [...]]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>Hello, I’m Chad, I’m an off-brand banana, I suck, and my life is puke. Oh, it’s not? What the hell do you know about it, chiquita? You heard me, chiquita. You get the prime shelf space, you grow on the best trees, in the best rain forests. You travel in refrigerated tankers, no tarantulas. I grew up anyplace I could cling. I never got a break, I&#8217;m uncultivated, I don’t know how to act. Chicks won’t talk to me, I don’t get served, I get violent, I menace people. YAAAAHHH! Nobody move. I wanna be a chiquita banana NOW!</p>
<p>***<br />
Title by: dnllt7<br />
Story by: <a href="http://truevoice-blog.com/" target="_blank">Bill Henderson</a> </p>
<div><b>2</b>  like this story.</div>
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		<item>
		<title>A Broken Hallelujah</title>
		<link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/nameyourtale/~3/5K20zzlO2xo/</link>
		<comments>http://www.nameyourtale.com/a-broken-hallelujah/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Mon, 02 Nov 2009 18:46:52 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>admin</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Stories]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Stories by David Blackstone]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.nameyourtale.com/a-broken-hallelujah/</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[Chuck doesn&#8217;t really feel most of what is suddenly and terrifically wrong with him. The human body is forgiving in that way. The damage to the car is more obvious, accompanied by the hiss of venting steam and the smell of gasoline. He is praying to be pulled out of the wreck with no more [...]]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>Chuck doesn&#8217;t really feel most of what is suddenly and terrifically wrong with him. The human body is forgiving in that way. The damage to the car is more obvious, accompanied by the hiss of venting steam and the smell of gasoline. He is praying to be pulled out of the wreck with no more permanent damage than is convenient. </p>
<p>The last thing he prayed for was a fourth down conversion in the Super Bowl three years ago, with a bag of Cheetos and a Michelob Light in his hands, because he had a hundred dollars riding on the game.</p>
<p>***<br />
Title by: Anonymous<br />
Story by: David </p>
<div><b>2</b>  like this story.</div>
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		<title>Frances and her Tubular Breasts</title>
		<link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/nameyourtale/~3/LTpIIO1YKdY/</link>
		<comments>http://www.nameyourtale.com/frances-and-her-tubular-breasts/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Fri, 30 Oct 2009 20:00:58 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>admin</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Stories]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Stories by Jeremy S. Griffin]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.nameyourtale.com/?p=2255</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[Henry – stupid moustache.
Gwen – bad breath.
Stewart – gay.
Frances – weird cylindrical boobs.
Pete – awful teeth.
Mary – man ass.
Darren – smokes.
Sparks – dirty fingernails.
Ashley – cries in class.
Wendell – greasy hair.
Tim – mouth breather.
Denise – dumb as rocks.
Brian – too short.
Scarlett – thinks she is cooler than me. Smacks her gum.
Richard – weird mole on [...]]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>Henry – stupid moustache.<br />
Gwen – bad breath.<br />
Stewart – gay.<br />
Frances – weird cylindrical boobs.<br />
Pete – awful teeth.<br />
Mary – man ass.<br />
Darren – smokes.<br />
Sparks – dirty fingernails.<br />
Ashley – cries in class.<br />
Wendell – greasy hair.<br />
Tim – mouth breather.<br />
Denise – dumb as rocks.<br />
Brian – too short.<br />
Scarlett – thinks she is cooler than me. Smacks her gum.<br />
Richard – weird mole on his neck.<br />
Mrs. Taggart – horrible dresser.<br />
David – wrinkled clothes.<br />
Chris – mean.<br />
Phillip – lazy eye.<br />
Kim – small teeth.<br />
Dan – aloof and twitchy.<br />
Greg – spaz.<br />
Clint – poor.<br />
Josh – runs like a retard.<br />
Barry – his name is Barry.<br />
Anna – preacher’s kid.<br />
Matt – gets angry about stupid stuff.<br />
Me – judgmental.</p>
<p>***<br />
Title by: David LeNegre<br />
Story by: Jeremy </p>
<div><b>4</b>  like this story.</div>
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		<title>The Day The World Didn’t End</title>
		<link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/nameyourtale/~3/oSrF9Z4W1no/</link>
		<comments>http://www.nameyourtale.com/the-day-the-world-didnt-end/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Fri, 30 Oct 2009 18:00:17 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>admin</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Stories]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Stories by David Blackstone]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.nameyourtale.com/?p=2252</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[John was already cold when she called the ambulance. Just standing there, waiting for them while he lay there on the kitchen floor, was surreal. When they arrived, all she could do was point. She backed out of the room and sat on the couch while they desperately worked on him. She was still sitting [...]]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>John was already cold when she called the ambulance. Just standing there, waiting for them while he lay there on the kitchen floor, was surreal. When they arrived, all she could do was point. She backed out of the room and sat on the couch while they desperately worked on him. She was still sitting there when they called it.</p>
<p>Tomorrow was casual Friday at work. In a week, Kayla and Bill were getting married, and she still didn&#8217;t have a dress. There were unopened bills on the kitchen table, but they would have to wait until the coroner came.</p>
<p>***<br />
Title by: Lenny<br />
Story by: David </p>
<div><b>4</b>  like this story.</div>
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		<title>payless and the technicolor shoebox top</title>
		<link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/nameyourtale/~3/VULGJZ4LiUM/</link>
		<comments>http://www.nameyourtale.com/payless-and-the-technicolor-shoebox-top/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Fri, 30 Oct 2009 16:00:18 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>admin</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Stories]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Stories by Jarvis Slacks]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.nameyourtale.com/payless-and-the-technicolor-shoebox-top/</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[“One! Two! Three! Four!” Donald yelled. No matter what his parents said, he was going to be the best musical director the world had ever seen.
“My titties hurt,” Sarah said.  It was the costume.  It pressed too hard against the skin and rubbed everyone raw.
“Fuck your titties!” Donald said.  “I’ll rip your [...]]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>“One! Two! Three! Four!” Donald yelled. No matter what his parents said, he was going to be the best musical director the world had ever seen.</p>
<p>“My titties hurt,” Sarah said.  It was the costume.  It pressed too hard against the skin and rubbed everyone raw.</p>
<p>“Fuck your titties!” Donald said.  “I’ll rip your fucking titties off! From the top!”</p>
<p>“Can we take a break,” Sam asked.  “My titties hurt too.”</p>
<p>“No breaks!” Donald yelled!  “Payless and the Technicolor Shoebox Top opens Tomorrow night!”</p>
<p>“I just peed,” Jane said.  “Again.”</p>
<p>Donald tossed his clipboard and walked out the theater, crying.</p>
<p>***<br />
Title by: cerulean<br />
Story by: Jarvis </p>
<div class='wp_likes' id='wp_likes_post-2250'>
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		<title>Destiny</title>
		<link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/nameyourtale/~3/2A_KclasGo4/</link>
		<comments>http://www.nameyourtale.com/destiny/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Fri, 30 Oct 2009 13:49:59 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>admin</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Stories]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Stories by Nick Faber]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.nameyourtale.com/?p=2248</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[See: fate. See: everything that happens for a reason. See: a young man who is always running away from things and never to them growing old and dying in the same town he was born in. See: a series of unrelated events over a span of seven years that seemed like closed doors (i.e. missed [...]]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>See: fate. See: everything that happens for a reason. See: a young man who is always running away from things and never to them growing old and dying in the same town he was born in. See: a series of unrelated events over a span of seven years that seemed like closed doors (i.e. missed love connections, unpursued hobbies, abandoned career paths that may or may not have been fulfilling) but were opened windows. See: one person who makes another person realize that they would never have met if things had been different. See: settling. See: never mind. See: destiny.</p>
<p>***<br />
Title by: Anonymous<br />
Story by: Nick </p>
<div><b>3</b>  like this story.</div>
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		<title>…Until Our Children’s Children Learn to Hunt Buffalo.</title>
		<link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/nameyourtale/~3/zA0im7Ji-JM/</link>
		<comments>http://www.nameyourtale.com/until-our-childrens-children-learn-to-hunt-buffalo/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Thu, 29 Oct 2009 20:29:36 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>admin</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Stories]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Stories by Jarvis Slacks]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.nameyourtale.com/?p=2245</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[We won’t find peace until we put the cell phones down.  We won’t find happiness until we turn off our computers, our game systems, our radios.  We won’t be happy until we walk instead of drive, talk again instead of text.  We won’t be happy until we touch the soil again, cook [...]]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>We won’t find peace until we put the cell phones down.  We won’t find happiness until we turn off our computers, our game systems, our radios.  We won’t be happy until we walk instead of drive, talk again instead of text.  We won’t be happy until we touch the soil again, cook our meals again, kill because we have to.  We won’t be happy until we can see all the stars in the night sky, hear the steady mating call of crickets.  We won’t be happy until our children play outside again and our children’s children learn to hunt buffalo. </p>
<p>***<br />
Title by: Eiso Mendabwe<br />
Story by: Jarvis  </p>
<div><b>11</b>  like this story.</div>
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		<title>Love in the 1960’s</title>
		<link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/nameyourtale/~3/luwpntuYHNk/</link>
		<comments>http://www.nameyourtale.com/love-in-the-1960s/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Thu, 29 Oct 2009 18:21:39 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>admin</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Stories]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Stories by Jeremy S. Griffin]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.nameyourtale.com/?p=2243</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[Congratulations, and welcome to the weekend that will change your life forever! You’re here because you’re ready to find the elusive beast known as LOVE!
Many Americans believe that love is a difficult thing to manage, and many of them are right. However, by attending our seminar, you’re putting yourself at a wonderful advantage above the [...]]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>Congratulations, and welcome to the weekend that will change your life forever! You’re here because you’re ready to find the elusive beast known as LOVE!</p>
<p>Many Americans believe that love is a difficult thing to manage, and many of them are right. However, by attending our seminar, you’re putting yourself at a wonderful advantage above the rest. You see, it’s the 1960’s, and love is easier to find than ever.</p>
<p>Men and women alike can find passion and romance without having to struggle through the heartache and turmoil so many have faced before. It’s the 1960’s and love is FREE!</p>
<p>***<br />
Title by: Anonymous<br />
Story by: Jeremy </p>
<div><b>2</b>  like this story.</div>
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		<title>Softcore Rock My World</title>
		<link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/nameyourtale/~3/FJHFaR98mRk/</link>
		<comments>http://www.nameyourtale.com/softcore-rock-my-world/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Thu, 29 Oct 2009 16:48:49 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>admin</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Stories]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Stories by David Blackstone]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.nameyourtale.com/?p=2240</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[On the screen, the woman looked longingly into the man&#8217;s eyes. &#8220;Rick, my husband won&#8217;t be home for hours. Why don&#8217;t we&#8230; get to know each other better?&#8221;
The mustachioed gentleman answered, &#8220;That sounds like a great idea, baby.&#8221;
They undressed each other awkwardly, conspicuously avoiding any actual contact with each other&#8217;s erogenous zones. They made overly [...]]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>On the screen, the woman looked longingly into the man&#8217;s eyes. &#8220;Rick, my husband won&#8217;t be home for hours. Why don&#8217;t we&#8230; get to know each other better?&#8221;</p>
<p>The mustachioed gentleman answered, &#8220;That sounds like a great idea, baby.&#8221;</p>
<p>They undressed each other awkwardly, conspicuously avoiding any actual contact with each other&#8217;s erogenous zones. They made overly dramatic faces and noises. Eventually the camera panned over to linger on a lamp.</p>
<p>&#8220;Goddamn waste of $5.99,&#8221; Herb observed. The stuff he had at home was so much better. Maybe he&#8217;d just order room service and go to sleep. Big meeting tomorrow.</p>
<p>***<br />
Title by: Eduard Wayles<br />
Story by: David </p>
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		<title>Cecilia</title>
		<link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/nameyourtale/~3/nomGZMQe0ec/</link>
		<comments>http://www.nameyourtale.com/cecilia/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Thu, 29 Oct 2009 15:06:39 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>admin</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Stories]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Stories by Nick Faber]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.nameyourtale.com/?p=2238</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[The box and the instructions called her Dirty Debbie, but she&#8217;s Cecilia now and there&#8217;s nothing dirty about her. She was programmed to have a voice like those phone sex ladies in late night commercials, but those phone sex ladies are all fat and Cecilia&#8217;s thin, so I looked online and found a way to [...]]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>The box and the instructions called her Dirty Debbie, but she&#8217;s Cecilia now and there&#8217;s nothing dirty about her. She was programmed to have a voice like those phone sex ladies in late night commercials, but those phone sex ladies are all fat and Cecilia&#8217;s thin, so I looked online and found a way to hack into her voicebox. I sped up a recording of myself doing a Spanish accent. It fits her. Every night, she sits across from me at dinner, next to me for TV. She even has her own bed, Cecilia does. It&#8217;s not how you think.</p>
<p>***<br />
Title by: Radiohead Rules<br />
Story by: Nick </p>
<div><b>2</b>  like this story.</div>
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