I Am Ill Eke Quipped To Dusk Hoover Dawn Ting Task of Badinage

I am ill eke quipped to dusk hoover dawn ting task of badinage Indentured gumption forsaken courtesy each pulled wisdom-tooth this hug gust aspiring writer..., albeit youth fool looking imp posse Hubble wordsmith, (i.e. the babbling dad) coon sitters hyperbole nsync as acceptable literary playfulness, no matter figurative persiflage bespeaks, expresses, invokes, jimmy's... simultaneously stretching limits credulity (think courtesy metaphorical crowbar) teases out apropos exaggeration after quaffing vermilion vintage vermouth without shadow of doubt signifying untruth merely relishes using me pickled brine as a practiced po' wit, whereby this logophile doth das scribe today June sixth, tooth house sand and twenty three, hoop fully hits pun hushing metaphorical home runs, yours truly figurative slugger and word sleuth rivaling those four baggers fielded by legendary Babe Ruth lemme know if literary endeavor (even juiced by ghost of chance) forsooth pretty please notice ingratiation linkedin with mine being couth prominently tickles one and/or booth phunny bone of bunny rabbit. Funny bones belonging to thee generic garden variety bot dear reader rabbit carrot teen loony toon Bugs Bunny (asking what's up doc) impersonator 'course I would unroll welcome mat (a two seater) roomy for outsize trumpeting despot Scottish tartan and Harris tweed (cuz I'm boss), oh... I almost forgot dons hat as coordinator three ring circuits, who runs hot and cold compliments to thee named Ingrid, I proffer a family heirloom ingot (worth about the same as fine spun gold) courtesy schizoid personality disorder, when juiced mere unicellular, speck, jot... nine month parasite huddled in utero with umbilical cord tied into Gordian knot assimilating, gestating, maturing, signaling mine trademark bon mot, which aforementioned gobbledygook devoid of sense and sensibility or riveting plot poetic translation essentially means diddly-squat thus tis probably high time, I mount my Clydesdale steed and happily trot back to the house at Pooh's corner. All Joe King aside, I embarked as independent contractor for United States Space Force as 007 secret double agent to craft senseless poem with humorous figurative bent elbow quite aware acronym designating heaven cent ear, nose and throat specialist may not necessarily wax poetic, thus scud daddy ling dude, (nevertheless quite decent) wrought literary dud versus concocting Earth shaking event versatility exemplifying fragment infinitesimal ability owned by modest gent with honest to goodness intent and no self approbation, emasculation, indignation, obfuscation, meant against one singular heir a parent whose fortune on credit card bills and automobile loan he spent, thus futile to beseech thee dear reader for legal tender, filthy lucre, greenbacks, et cetera cuz series of unfortunate events one charity case if appreciates reading thru plaintive feeble vent. After the above written rhyme without reason poetic yawping, I took much needed reprieve NOT to exhaust mine laudatory wellspring subsequently all he wrote comprises something inane, and without sophisticated substance essentially absolute zero nothing nutritious for cerebral cortex to feast upon material hampering intellectual succor zilch otherwise outcome ranked as low achieving.