Don’t knock the verdict ‘til you’ve read the effervescent love stories of an older gentleman who reminds us all that a lake of justice may only be multiplied by itself as many times as would be appropriate for a spam wrangler embroiled in a cosmic prayer for guidance.
And not that we’d have to succumb to the specious reasoning
subjecting border collie manifestations to undue criticism
simply because of their perforatory nitrous oxidation theories;
as hair-brained as they may sound to the unindoctrinated few
with access to local channel 16.17–WESC: “The Glaring® Sound
of Beatniks All Around”–a smidgen of trust
for our ovine-herding counterparts will doubtless reveal
innumerable quality chicken sandwich sources within
a seven-mile radius, and for that we should stand and applaud.