Amoir loves them monkeys

29 Oct

I’ve noted before my belief that there are a thousand monkeys bashing away at typewriters hoping to produce the works of Dickens. And that their wasted attempts are being sent to spammers.

Truly, it’s beautiful work. Those monkeys really are working on their euphony. Though the narrative is choppy and characters unbelievable, without doubt the main themes are recollection, the pursuit of education, ball bearings and fucking cocker spaniels.

Here is one such example:

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 a greasy cargo bay avoids contact with an avocado pit, but they need to remember how almost a chain saw ruminates.

For example, a ball bearing related to the dust bunny indicates that a cab driver non-chalantly gives a pink slip to a judge inside a photon.

When you see an asteroid, it means that a hockey player laughs out loud.

A line dancer sells the ball bearing behind the tornado to the tomato.

When a green girl scout starts reminiscing about lost glory, the parking lot beyond another ball bearing starts reminiscing about lost glory.

A cocker spaniel of a light bulb hibernates, and a bartender from a freight train leaves; however, a tornado graduates from a lover of the cocker spaniel.

God bless you, monkey typist. You see straight into my heart and touch upon timeless archetypal themes that speak to me. How I fret for you, my tortured simian savant. I imagine you sitting there, flinging feces at the better typists as you imagine laughing hockey players creating celestial events and hoping, just hoping and praying, that such eloquence will secure you a tasty treat. Or time in the photocopier room with the cocker spaniel.

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