Medical Emergency Spouse Got Clean Destine Bug

fast as a blitzen comet, this dashing prancer contra dancer (i.e. Rudolph nary hoof) didst zip with cupid ditty toward his vixen wife, who loosed a suppressed yip asper one discovering remains of the day from the donner (newt the majority) party whip ping her olive drab camouflage attire, as if she hapt to be a vip endlessly congratulating herself (and bow wowing her ego) bing awarded the housekeeping seal of approval, and expected me to tip her gore gee us Martha Stewart déclassé snoop doggy dog rendition as she did slip agilely (with broom and dustpan in hand) rip peat head lee uttering an apropos Mary Poppins quip booting muck can clear across to Compton (wherever that might be) pip pin like a cat on a hot tin roof, where no cure existed to nip in the bud at this stage, and rid thine beloved Narberth bride, who caught a bout clean destine feverish frenzy to make house beautiful, oblivious to beseeching despair, sans this husband who cried plaintively imploring divine intervention, lest extreme heroic measures need be taken, thus guide me asap before her blistered hands rubbed red as tender (vittles) raw hide, which could find her catatonic, doggone ill eagle lee flying a boot like a bat out of hell, and stupefied hence, this urgent message typed out in a huff for less severe invasive experimental treatment truly tried on this, that, or some other missus so and so .....please pardon this abrupt end, plus initial idea wide lee differing from my initial intent won during how to write an elegy to mister son describing, how aye felt enervated with run hills of beaming solar rays, oh how none synthetic drug to bathe, enhance, suffuse away mon day moody blues, and now...gotta tend tummy hun!