No sense.

Your dog is biting my yellow tie, mister.  Did you see her by any chance? Just mister?  Down there I’m mister Polly.  While I wait until she runs around this lake again, do you by any chance have a cracker?  I’m insatiable.  That’s why I’m no good in the desert.  At least as a companion.  I mean, if I were out there with an unlimited supply of food and water, yeah, I could do it.  But it’s not going to happen in the near future.  That’s the technology of the sci-fi novels.  Now there’s and idea: a novel idea it is.  And it will be unconventional like all art with twisty buttons and swooping trails of color, trails of tears, stories of those losers of history with ruins now crumbling through time like the pyramids.

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