excessive ellipsee. It's actually quite fascinating. I'd tell more but I'm at work today and typing on a phone sucks. It sucks more than hanging out with Spencer. Yes, I hate smartphons that much. Fucking Spencer phones. They make me want to drink a tall glass of diarrhea while impaling myself on a fence and crapping my pants. And dying. THE END
...not. There is no end... But there was an eclipse!
An odd hush fell upon the moors that day; and Spencer, sure enough to himself, made a warbling racket as usual.
Now, in this small context, his behaviour appeared to be really quite self-protective - a front with shaded windows - and it was far from a few, to wonder if his nature had formed to that point through a certain concern...
Maybe that boy had been born from perpetual concern, and feared any show of weakness whatsoever. Yes.
Yes, his father had his inattentivity to all, escaping golf; and as such, he himself would find a certain sanctuary in his own focal fashion. Not the mindless obsession with shoes for this lad, oh no. He was, to be a MAN!
A boy, who plays a man. on a highly-rated sitcom and earned a million dollars an episode. The grief he felt because his private jet was grounded for maintenance was incalculable. Thank heaven for Spongebob marathons.
Today he was reading the response to his Tweet of the previous day, in which he'd told a fan that its' wasn't a real word. A new response, from president Obama, said that of course its' is a real word.
"It's the possessive-plural of 'it'," said the new Tweet. "For example, I could say "the word 'it' appears too many time in your composition. There are at least 500 its, and the its' frequency makes the prose awkward."
"Interesting point," he thought, "but...
Wendy, Marvin and Wonderdog. And Smelvin. Hanna Barbera cartoon Saturday. All our heroes were there. Now, alas, beady-eyed meth heads roam our streets looking for anything to savage, anything to sell, to get their next hit. Even our children. Yes, that's right, they will sell your children. How do we stop this plague? Certainly not through prayer as Christianity is an even bigger pants load than cold fusion. Certainly not by enacting laws, kids can't read anymore. No, we need a new vista, a new platform from which to enervate this alacrity. Imbeciles like Newt Gingrich may actually assist as they can moderate Carter. REPENT NOW! JESUS IS LORD! REPENT NOW OR HE WILL SMITE YOU WITH DIARRHEA AND CAUSE YOU TO IMPALE YOURSELF ON A FENCE AND CRAP YOUR PANTS! AND DIE! THE END
No, please, let's not lower ourselves to that level. As Long John Baldry said "A thrill is a thrill. I know a boy who is growing tits".
More faggoty hockey stuff, please.
I SAID REPENT NOW! JESUS IS LORD! IF YOU DISAGREE YOU'RE GOING TO HELL FOR ETERNITY! SATAN WILL ASS RAPE YOU WHILE BED BUGS TEAR INTO YOUR FLESH! THE HOLY BIBLE IS THE WORD OF GOD! GOD LOVES US, THAT'S WHY HE CREATED HELL AND SENDS PEOPLE THERE! Hwuh! He awoke with a certain start!
He'd had a religious upbringing and this, it would seem, would be something that never left him completely.
He rose, got his juice, and organised himself for a normal day again...
These days were harder than most, to believe in some benevolent celestial deity, but the soul. He believed well in the soul of all things, and that this would connect him to others, as it did indeed! He felt that; and felt better for it.
YOU WILL REPENT FOR YOUR FEELINGS!!!
As a preacher's son, he felt a great weight upon his back, though he knew he couldn't live up to the impossible ideals of his predecessor, he knew he could, and WOULD make the positive change to move things forward...
"They're doing some crazy shit - it's great!", said Monica. She was pretty cool, but completely clueless when it came to... It didn't matter! She was his best friend, and it was a friendship to last far beyond concerns....
SATAN MAKES TRUE LOVE DIE!!!
He was OK. He was feeling OK. But could still hear that shit in his head, and although he knew he'd never truly escape it, thought: "I can rise above this".
He did, and what follows now is the story of a hero. Not a big fellow, and certainly not a loud one - the real deal... a ten-course meal, balls of steel. The man who ended ellipses.
And that person is not Spencer. "NEIGH!!!! WHINNEY!!!!!" said the horse. The horse said this because it was clearly not heroic
A hero wouldn't shine like that at all. Spencer might though. He'd use ellipses too. Lots of them.
Help me find my keys and we'll drive outta here! ...contribute to our story.