He Was A Writer And Words Were

Foul And Magical Fumes Bubbled Out Of The Kettle, Like The Flatulence Of A Dragon On A Demon-only Diet.

She's Evil. Evil, Evil, Evil. I Want To See Her Naked.

Not Unlike The Toaster, I Control Darkness.

Winter Near The Shore Is Cold. The Wind Kicks Up A Salty Mist And Elephant Seals Come To Shore To Trumpet And Rut And Birth Their Pups. Retired People Put Sweaters On Their Lap Dogs And Drag Them Down The Street On Retractable Leashes In A Nightly Parade Of Doggy Humiliation. Surfers Don Their Wetsuits Against The Chill Of Storm Waves And White Sharks Adjust Their Diets To Include Shrink-wrapped Dude-snacks On Fiberglass Crackers.

People, Generally, Suck.