slipstreameroperator

...and so, having failed to elicit an electronic response either through self-disclosure of calendrical confusion, or by means of an in-church guiltification trip, and finding himself with a few brief and purple moments amidst his mindboggleshufflestudy, our hero resigned to plant his tonguey tongue firmly in his cheek and post a pathetically posty posting, so that all the kingdom might reflectorate and throttlethink as he melodramatically, verbosely, and yet somewhat sheepishly threw in the proverbial towel, concluding with a sigh that he would, in fact, not succeed in his attempts to show up on our heroine's friendly gmail radar, nor perhaps, ever to get his pulpit-stumbling foot in the door of her attention, no matter how long and bizarre his run-on sentences may have been.

oh, the humanity. oh, the commas. oh, fishy-fishy.

hmm. once again, it appears that i'm incapable of writing anything normal.
please take this weird wordiness with a grain of salt.

today's dedications:
"from a distance" midlers out to jill and steve, who look blue and green.
and may "grandma's feather bed" cushion all three snow sisters, my favorite "gals down the road."
hardy har hardigan cartigan.

...but wait!
mere minutes elapsing, the walters collapsing, our heroine mail to our hero doth send!
so coincidental, like trans-continental, and doubt with the spangle and spark must contend.

an odd little poem, yes.
but my mind was just blown, and i must pause to watch the fireworks in my braindom.