Boink Goes This Ratty Guinea Pig

Aye pride myself being sui generis verb hose subject for a zoologist, cuz webbed phalanges branch handsomely from mine feet and wrist, where perforce great expectations, asper the next greatest (I SCREAM) scoop of the month intimated, conducted under top secret controlled laboratory conditions with yours truly (as the de facto par excellence) rodent named "Oliver twist" Lady Dedlock key ping watchful eye within bleak house, while Thomas Gradgrind feigns tubby bad company during these hard times temporarily all quietest lull on the western front since Donald Trump detente foretold by a palmist, whereby said President of the United States feeling as an optimist met with Kim Jong-un, (cautiously side stepping morass, viz hit blind side dare devil hoodwinking, via awe shucks faux bully) suspending noninterventionist impact unexpectedly witnessed leader of North Korea as multilateralist on historic June 12, 2018, summit minus linguist, where fist pumping in Singapore for unilateral negotiations offloading nationalism weighing down figurative chest i.e. kist by resplendent sun, where ma lounge sotto voce, somber solemnly sober ensemble re: joist uniting this stately isolationist, whose approximate ten stone heft easy to hoist merely sustains purposelessness this poem without a gist hence if Yukon spare one (or more cruxes) lemme be fist in line, though first, aye would need to convince thee this scribe doth exist!