Dear friend is apparently sapphire-tinted. For reasons unknown. This troubles me, but dear friend is well enough to realize one vertex of an intersection of scrambled prose. Worthy of a standing ovation, that is.
Drab. Drabness. Drabby drabbed drab. Dirnt.
Grad student found in wall. Lab technician suspected. Will continuously be on high alert during employment. In related news, I always knew that doing a graduate degree was bad for your health.
Buffalo buffalo Buffalo buffalo buffalo buffalo Buffalo buffalo.
5-2-2. Damn.
Rumours of my demise have been greatly exaggerated. When I die, will they remember not what I did, but what I haven't done? It's not the end that I fear with each breath. It's life that scares me to death.
I like to verb words. Verbing weirds language.
Jessie holds this megaphone, bloodstains on her shirt.
As her words come out of bullet holes, spilling to the dirt.
If a speech confuses the confused and exceeds the allotted time, does it make a sound?
When did democracy become overrated?
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