It’s been some time since my last keystroke, I hope I don’t choke on the word-vomit that my thoughts provoke. So yoke the throat of my utensil and you’ll see how my heart spills out the tip of my pencil. It’s suspenseful and will drive you hysterical when my ideas spit onto your theory’s material, leaving a stain so deranged that you’ll rearrange how you feel about my take on the game.
Don’t be a fool and pick up these jewels that I’m putting down,
’cause fate deals the deck and you decide whether to fold or play for the ducats.
So pull up and come through and see how me and mine do.
Peace
Dissect the Dialect 