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This is a page full of information nobody should know you saw
A lecherous sunrise flaunted itself over a flatulent sea, ripping the obsidian bodice of night asunder with its rapacious fingers of gold, thus exposing her dusky bosom to the dawn's ogling stare. When I asked our novice Safari guide Guy Pommeroy to identify what that roaring sound was he replied (and these were his last words), "It sounds to me like someone with a bad case of bronchitis; I'll check and be right back."
To the rest of the world, General Sir Antony Alexander Agamemnon Hardcastle may have been the Scourge of the French, the Hero of the Borghorst Pass, and the fourth-worst enemy of the late Napoleon Bonaparte, but to the waitress at the Badger's Head Tavern and Grill, he was just another customer -- and if he called her "cutie pie" one more time, she was going to do to him with one fork what Boney couldn't with a thousand men. She had a deep, throaty laugh, like the sound a dog makes right before it throws up.
The collapse of the Taiping Rebellion and my subsequent wanderings to avoid the deadly clutches of vengeful imperial agents form the basis of this narrative, a narrative whose very existence and use of the first person pretty much ruin any sense of suspense that might have made it worth reading. As Dr. Steinbeck fought off the stone monstrosities that had ambushed the expedition crews deep within the Mayan pyramid, his lifelong friend, Dr. Williams, chose to heed his colleague's wise words and "run while you still can"–a choice that ultimately left us stuck with him for a protagonist rather than the infinitely more intriguing late Dr. Steinbeck.
It was a dark and stormy night, as disorienting and miasmic as the inside of the bag of an industrial strength vacuum cleaner with a shredded HEPA filter being dragged over a steel foundry floor. Dark and stormy, the night screamed like a ravished virgin ... the dark, stormy night ranted madly in a barometric tantrum ... it was an ebonic nocturnal tempest ... the stygian typhoon of eventide ... prosopopeic fuliginous Nyx, enceinte as it were with lachrymal lamia farouche as Hecate, disbosomed upon her terrene demiorb an empyreal borasque. The rain fell in Torrance, but not in nearby Rancho Palos Verdes, which was unusual given the two towns' proximity.