Presumptuous South Lumpkin biddy wrings hands over pleasing Dooleyoid Friends as she finicky-fusses over prepping some pot luck that would pass a Martha Stewart Finger Exam.
Cringing over nature's rough edges,
fouls the piscine form for a purpose of man
not realizing some fish are meant to stank
and thereby offending gods in the process...
To this scurrilous beachside affront the austere aegis of Poseidon deems to mete out aquatic requital.
And so as harsh as the pummeling surf works over the feeble grains of sand, anile suburban relic awaits transmogrified mutatis mutandis into hopelessly floundering invertebrate.
The Dowager Empress of Five Points cannot possibly hold sway with her Salmon Surprise in the face of Neptune.
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