Wordsmiths Worst Nightmare

Wordsmith's worst nightmare fortunately thwarted courtesy mine tall tale telling flair. Mine irretrievable brilliant masterpiece... all for naught after mental cogs and wheels I did apply creative juice metaphorical grease regarding tour de force pièce de résistance writing forever lost to the annals of human history. So much for escaping to paradise island (Garden of Eden) and experiencing zen Impossible mission to earn untold yen concerning prosaic poem/ poetic prose titled The old battleaxe and her henchwomen irrecoverable linkedin to sinking feeling hours, days, weeks... all spent for naught dharma bum - me got doled out unfair injustice though scoreboard (tabulating when yours truly acted immoral) oddly even Steven after I repented against marital infidelities nearly cost priceless paternal love of daughters, whereby their father experienced suicidal ideations thought to drown his sorrows overdosing on fen-phen. A transcendent awakening occurred within noggin of one simian a clothed outlier caged within human zoo predicated upon his overactive imagination inextricably favorable ratings did woo, albeit ephemerally savored renown, and true value viz his great Magnus Opus, whereby riches couped courtesy brief brush with fame and glory found countless people lined in queue (and moment of morning glory subsequently slipped thru gnarly butter fingers symptomatic of nervousness exhibited courtesy an aspiring Nehru case in point my pal Joey, a kangaroo dear reader pardon tardy greeting regarding helloo cuz decided against formalities, a nonestablishmentarian he doth eschew no ghostly chance I merely utter boo! Unlikely I scared the living daylights out of you, nor would that be intent regarding self taught amateur practitioner of voodoo I rarely if ever cast spells, nevertheless yours truly still under probation and peer review so breathe easy, cuz Matthew Scott Harris would hate to tarnish reputation of Guru, that charming humble fellow he taught me wizardry.