There once was a shoe that I ordered wholesale from the ape convention and it smelled like poetry. But that said, I miss my clock that I put on my balcony and I ate a big meal that was cheap but really smelled like bobcats in the bathroom of a situationaly different basket weaver named Ed. Ed was a big star and he danced well in the bottom of his flashlight store, but Ed did not like me very much and Ed was always looking for a challenge to be given to him by his butter cup conventional visitors called Toopies. The Toopies were funny but they were not really ready to play baseball with a computer on their laps in the Boston Red Sox Field at Fenway Park. So the Toopies ate a book about kites and really liked it also. They spent the day in the choices of their own kind and they really like to sword fight in public. This was classy and there was no one who ate more swords than the biggest sword carrier of all, Marky T-Man from the Bermuda Triangle of Hope. Marky was bright, huge, useful and thoughtful and he wrote a big book about Going to Hell with a Book of Sin that smells like the Mississippi River. Everyone in town read Markys book and he really got famous. But that was great because someday someone might come alone and remember Marks mind and try to model his own character after Mark's best wishes. I bet that Marky T-Man is happy today as his book about hell was really about heaven and we all need more of that. I love you Marky Mark. Be good whereever you are and dont give too many cheap yellow thorns to the natives unless they really want to dine on carrot spit. Baruch Hashem!
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