I mistakenly opened a sp*m email this morning. The message said:
A proverbial parking lot teaches a radioactive cab driver, and the
steam engine bestows great honor upon a chestnut.
A gratifying tripod dances with a squid behind a pickup truck, because
the eagerly gentle canyon underhandedly cooks cheese grits for a hole
puncher. The psychotic rattlesnake is barely gratifying.
Fascinating. I read and reread it several times to see if it would make sense, I'm not sure why. Perhaps I was fooled by the correct grammar and sentence structure. It reads like a clue in a mystery novel... or perhaps like poetry, the kind no one understands.
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