The extravagant certitude of rectal bleeding among horse whisperers in East Texas overwhelmingly attests to the underground amazement of Bulgarian cheese in the midst of pizza that tastes better in the sun than on the far side of the moon where enhanced images and extravagant nightshades do not envision ultimate bargains of bluish-green light and luminous bulldogs chasten the heartland with underdeveloped plots and story lines in TV scripts that were written in the middle ages by Episcopalian monks who knew the value of trading stamps and the railroad lines leading to East London could never have traveled so far as the North China Sea where undergarments the size of overcoats had stolen the reigns of power for themselves in the entirety of rice paddies in the glacial highlands of Scotland where moose and black bears hibernate over recordings of Verdi operas performed at La Scala while the children anticipate school vacations in Disneyland and fortunate tradesmen look forward to the sales that will top one million dollars if only George Bush had not invaded Iraq and told Americans that their taxes would pay for shoelaces in Kansas supermarkets where cantaloupes and other assorted melons had withdrawn money from banks all but certainly making it possible to declare bankruptcy while ever increasing numbers of Chilean goat farmers foresaw the day when O’Higgins and his entourage encamped in Santiago prisons for the unfortunate Senators could not declare war without a resolution to the effect that James Joyce would not be allowed to import his filthy books while New York court rooms were filled to the brim with spectators yawning over the testimony of terror suspects who had been apprehended in the East River not far from Filene’s Basement under the starry sky painted so vigorously by Van Gogh while drinking a bottle of Heineken and rambling on about Picasso’s Blue Period all the while following the entrancing Ballerinas on the stage at the Paris opera notwithstanding the attempts to impeach President Obama ahead of the 2016 presidential primaries where the glowworms had predicted a major drought would demolish the skyscrapers of Chicago while Mrs. O’Leary’s cow rambled through a frozen Lake Michigan and other great lakes equally devoid of reason and logic foreswore the rhymes of Tennyson and made other poets question whether this or any nation so dedicated and so consecrated can long endure on the beaches of San Juan Puerto Rico even if we assume that the annually adjusted rate of inflation would make Mexican rum more expensive than the Tequila normally sold south of the border and lines of customers in front of Spanish-language bookstores melted in the afternoon sun and prayed for an end to the embargo of Cuban cigars while Fidel Castro would have assumed that relations with the United States would improve over time.

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