Inkwell: Authors and Artists

    

-bra. At least they don't appear on TV wearing p-
  

    
olka dot union suits in a variety of bright colors and dancing like b-
  

    
eeyotches in a Snoop Dogg v-
  

    
ersion of "Celebrity Apprentice." Collecting his thoughts, H-
  

    
enry-The-Eighth-I-A-
  

    
-mbushed whilst he strolled beside the r--
  

    

-eking pit of writhing q-
  

    
uinoa farmers, waiting for word of the price they'll get for this y-
  

    
ak butter from the grassfed pastures of M-
  

    
endocino. THey raise buffalo up there, too, and other exotic rum-
  

    
runners, written on the leaves of water, their dreams tattered sails
in the w-
  

    
ikileak email collection, but you know, that was so yesterday, and
now we have waking nightmares, t-
  

    
onight's being he-
  

    
aring the choice for the head of the Department of Energy, that
despicable m-
  

    

ongoose made while high on f-
  

    
utures trading in the back room, surrounded by n-
  

    
eophyytes with no experience whatsoever but an expressed desire to de-
  

    
tonate the world's largest bomb in the world's coldest ig-
  

    
noramus. A simple, "Nobody's home," bozo won't do; true sociopathic
t-
  

    
 
umpery. Let us all unite in solidarity with the l-
  

    
emonade drinkers who join us tonight from k-
  

    
orea, Afghanistan, Sweden, and Argentina through the miracle of Face-
  

    
barf: consuming a lovely glassful then spewing forth fake ex-
  

    
planations that the #trumpskulls will swallow without thinking. That l-
  

    
ast minute shopping will do it to you every time. He-