Inane Episode 47

The brain child of a brain surgeon is the child of a surgeon. The surgeon's child, not being a brain, was named Brian. Brian was very smart in school where he passed the third, fifth and seventh grades with great grades, slopes and recollections of varying degrees of aptitude. By the inimical presence of presents upon Brian's third, fifth and seventh birthdays, a large number of pregnant stuffed Koalas each named Henry became the least striking of strikeouts during a baseball game matching the Lilliputions against the Death Star.

That sentences that begin with the word that, explain that that as a sentence starting word is that. Who could argue with that? If an additional attempt, one that bears the repetition of being bare, was to be considered by the scariest of mundane inconsequentialisms, rickety building blocks would scarcely hinder the voluptuousness of fried geriatric calamari mixed with quadratic equations. To have done otherwise would have left Brian inept.

Sneezing twice in a row could cause a row in a row boat. Canoeing twice in a row is extremely dissimilar. Degrees of dissimilarity could be likened to a languid lichen. Languid lichens should not be mistaken for Pancreas Kitchens.

Wallowing on the longest flight to the moon, pacing back and forth unlike a cherry tree whose roots are made of stealth wings, reminded Brian of a memory that he would have placed in the palm of your hand. If Brian can reach out of this inane hub and put something in your hand you ought to be impressed. Or pressed, as the case may be.

Small popsicles pop.

Brian's pop, the brain surgeon, popped a popsicle with a sickle. Lesser known tendencies to instigate

If you have found that an incomplete sentence can be a premonition towards something that could just as easily be good or chicken, then you have solved the parable of mysteries that mock the multitudes like a hazelnut sandwich evokes a celebration involving beer and partially completed colouring books. Ripping things apart (like hazelnut sandwiches) is one of the best things she could have done if it hadn't been Tuesday at the time. That I introduced a female person at this part of the hub should come as no surprise to me. It could simply have been an incorrect personal pronoun, or so it thought.

The unavailability of corrective services that offer solutions that are incomprehensible to all but the least educated of bipedal mammals got thumb-tacked to the baby-blue stucco ceiling. Dividing the sword bits into fractions of an inert number made the distribution of said bits bitwise. Bitwise ceiling stucco when castigated with a sword decreased some sort of unavailability, but she didn't notice. Password protecting the stucco did not solve the problem, or lack thereof.

By putting the penultimate paragraph previous to the ultimate one serves the purpose of placing the paragraphs in a predictable order. By ultimately serving the purpose of putting paragraphs in a predictable order puts the ultimate and penultimate next to each other. By seismically rearranging the two aforementioned paragraphs, we might get an afivementioned one. That would bake the cake!