October 31st, 2006 - Balinares — LiveJournal
Oct. 31st, 2006
08:58 am - Accidental Poetry
... It's one of those days. The forest I drive across for my commute was damp and quiet with a silver-white mist. And this morning, in my inbox, the best spam ever was waiting for me. Let me share it with you. I really want to wish that this was written by someone, although in all likelihood, it was computer-generated. But hush! Let us not break the magic.
For example, an accidentally flatulent class action suit indicates that a mating ritual inexorably buys an expensive gift for a pathetic senator. A turkey prays, and an infected line dancer sweeps the floor; however, the mortician writes a love letter to some seldom purple tabloid. When a skyscraper inside a skyscraper trembles, a greasy plaintiff earns frequent flier miles. Now and then, a ball bearing secretly befriends a knowingly alleged insurance agent. The wheelbarrow living with a fairy, a paper napkin related to the cowboy, and another smelly freight train are what made America great!
Another CEO inside a warranty takes a coffee break, and a so-called pickup truck leaves; however, a fundraiser beyond an ocean knows a roller coaster from a blithe spirit. When you see the wheelbarrow, it means that some carpet tack from a salad dressing starts reminiscing about lost glory. When the proverbial pine cone hibernates, a college-educated graduated cylinder wakes up. The freight train for a mortician has a change of heart about a satellite. Sometimes the college-educated jersey cow flies into a rage, but a wisely obsequious hole puncher always knowingly gives lectures on morality to a tomato!
Most people believe that the gentle umbrella often satiates a football team of another ocean, but they need to remember how seldom the geosynchronous light bulb takes a coffee break. If the cheese wheel sanitizes a spider, then an umbrella daydreams. A fundraiser goes deep sea fishing with the fundraiser over a bowling ball, or a blood clot buries the geosynchronous briar patch. Another girl scout related to a photon starts reminiscing about lost glory, and the shabby hole puncher writes a love letter to a defendant. Some single-handledly worldly pork chop reads a magazine, and the diskette hides; however, a mysterious fairy competes with the college-educated photon.
I don't know about you, but I, for one, am rooting for the photon.
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