and so today I’ve decided to leave the writing to random text generators I found on the internet.

It is so much better this way.

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Behold!

A tale from WatchOut4Snakes.com that will keep you awake all night staring at all the pretty faces in the ceiling:

Pinky the Ice Axe flames the natural supplier, a susceptible queen overcomes the skilled pattern.

Behind a cliff responds Kevin the Mountain Goat. Kevin the Mountain Goat rackets Pinky the Ice Axe outside a comparative collective!

How can Pinky the Ice Axe flood a zone?

I don’t know! I don’t know! How can he??

Sadly, we'll probably never know, because WatchOut4Snakes.com has no more tales of Pinky and Kevin to tell.

Is this THE END?

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No!

The one and only Marquette University High School has more tale for us!

I hate Kevin. All mountain goats are liars because Kevin lied to me once. I don't understand this part. "It'll be fun!" he said.

It wasn't fun. Kevin lied and I don't have a third example.

Fuck Kevin.

Kevin is really starting to sound like a dick. You know what, fuck that guy! Fuck Kevin! He never should have racketed Pinky like that!

How is Pinky ever going to flood that zone!?

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I doubt he’ll ever be able to, and we’ll probably never know for sure.

It really sucks to have to say this, but

I used a text generator to write a short story about Pinky and Kevin,

and holy goat, talk about an ending you didn’t expect!

Behold:

The Sun that Shone like Climbing Monkeys

Pinky TheIceAxe looked at the abominable emoji in his hands and felt enraged.

He walked over to the window and reflected on his wretched surroundings. He had always loved lawless Kansas with its curried, clever cliffs. It was a place that encouraged his tendency to feel enraged. Then he saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the figure of Kevin TheMountainGoat. Kevin was a devout devil with unlovely feet and tall ears.

Pinky gulped. He glanced at his own reflection. He was a flaky, unpredictable, bourbon drinker with stout feet and handsome ears. His friends saw him as a rabblesnatching, raspy rock. Once, he had even saved a jolly wildflower that was stuck in a drain. But not even a flaky person who had once saved a jolly wildflower that was stuck in a drain, was prepared for what Kevin had in store today.

The sun shone like climbing monkeys, making Pinky crazyeyed. As Pinky stepped outside and Kevin came closer, he could see the combative smile on his face.

“I am here because I want a phone number," Kevin bellowed, in a sincere tone. He slammed his fist against Pinky's chest, with the force of 380 bloggers. "I frigging love you, Pinky TheIceAxe." Pinky looked back, even more crazyeyed and still fingering the abominable emoji. "Kevin, flip you, Kevin," he replied.

They looked at each other with hopeful feelings, like two helpful, hurt hamburgers skijoring at a very hardworking camping trip, which had rapcore music playing in the background and two violent uncles glissading to the beat.

Suddenly, Kevin lunged forward and tried to punch Pinky in the face. Quickly, Pinky grabbed the abominable emoji and brought it down on Kevin's skull. Kevin's unlovely feet trembled and his tall ears wobbled. He looked slaphappy, his body raw like a charming, cooperative curator. Then he let out an agonising groan and collapsed onto the ground. Moments later Kevin TheMountainGoat was dead.

Pinky TheIceAxe went back inside and made himself a nice drink of bourbon.

THE END

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_{Is he allowed to do that? Really?}

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Hello from the high Rockies of Colorado. My name is Brandt, pleased to meet you. I’m a marketing copywriter. I'm allowed to do that. I live in a little ghost town called Leadville. If you like mountains, snow, jokes, running, hiking, breathing, not working, etc., then you and I have a lot in common. Thanks for stopping by, and have a lovely day!

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