Pratfalls From A Limericks Dispenser

This book is a mystery with no resolution. It is an epistle to the fluff, fluidity and silliness of thought, and may be the most evocative and unusual drivel you ever try to wade through. Mental hip boots will be needed to defend against the robust acidity of the narrative as it plods along aimlessly, quite deliberately making little and often no sense whatsoever. Think of it like an handful of blueberries for your morning cereal, an order of fries with a quarter pounder lunch, a slice of sweet humble pie for dessert with your magnificent evening repast in a Michelin starred restaurant. Occasionally there may arise in the less enlightened reader a wry upward turn of the amused lip, and a guffaw is not out of the realm of possibility. The intent quite frankly is to defy all assumptions about literary activity, of which none will be detected herein, and confound the purveyors of modern homogenized intelligence consumed as a staple by a good portion of the public. Nothing like it exists. There are admittedly brief interludes of clarity and even an epiphany may be lurking somewhere, like an underbelly glistening with verbal sweat and flavor lurking to bite the unwary reader on the butt. Finally, no warranty expressly implied is offered against the destruction that may be wrought upon the reader sampling the questionable verbal bon bons in this box. Readers of an advanced age may be especially titillated. With that, welcome aboard. Also, please note that I am not the author of Logic Activities. Different dude same name.