It was midnight now and the sun was falling fast. The milk had expired long ago and the only sound to be heard was twelve-year-old Timothy Baggins whistling John Mayer’s “Your Body is a Wonderland” through his cleft lip and dental braces. Timothy Baggins had spent most of his life in an insane asylum, but quit his job as a dishwasher there to pursue his true interest: origami bumblebee-people. Meanwhile three-armed baby Arnie was sucking away at his gag ball, dancing his little transplanted heart out. And the midget, well, a sweet, gentle, beautiful tear came out of his left eye as he came to the realization for the first time that, at forty-seven years old, he would probably never hit his growth spurt. They could now hear the kittens meowing in the distance, so they knew that they would n
| Attributes | Values |
|---|
| rdfs:label
| - UnBooks:Memoirs of a Midget
|
| rdfs:comment
| - It was midnight now and the sun was falling fast. The milk had expired long ago and the only sound to be heard was twelve-year-old Timothy Baggins whistling John Mayer’s “Your Body is a Wonderland” through his cleft lip and dental braces. Timothy Baggins had spent most of his life in an insane asylum, but quit his job as a dishwasher there to pursue his true interest: origami bumblebee-people. Meanwhile three-armed baby Arnie was sucking away at his gag ball, dancing his little transplanted heart out. And the midget, well, a sweet, gentle, beautiful tear came out of his left eye as he came to the realization for the first time that, at forty-seven years old, he would probably never hit his growth spurt. They could now hear the kittens meowing in the distance, so they knew that they would n
|
| dbkwik:uncyclopedi...iPageUsesTemplate
| |
| abstract
| - It was midnight now and the sun was falling fast. The milk had expired long ago and the only sound to be heard was twelve-year-old Timothy Baggins whistling John Mayer’s “Your Body is a Wonderland” through his cleft lip and dental braces. Timothy Baggins had spent most of his life in an insane asylum, but quit his job as a dishwasher there to pursue his true interest: origami bumblebee-people. Meanwhile three-armed baby Arnie was sucking away at his gag ball, dancing his little transplanted heart out. And the midget, well, a sweet, gentle, beautiful tear came out of his left eye as he came to the realization for the first time that, at forty-seven years old, he would probably never hit his growth spurt. They could now hear the kittens meowing in the distance, so they knew that they would need to get going early the next morning before the kittens found them and ripped their bowels out like yarn from a yarnball. So everyone slept as quiet as a mouse—a dead mouse, and the next morning they packed up all their belongings and accepted the fact that they probably would never be returning home in the next twenty minutes.
|
| is wikipage disambiguates
of | |
![[RDF Data]](/fct/images/sw-rdf-blue.png)