American Sentences

Run on American sentence extracted from The Economist's review of Bruce Sprinsteen's autobiography.

His great theme is "the distance between the American dream and reality."
 
Who or what is little Joe Joe?!

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Read gm's latest addition to his thread

Yes, or someimes this before some us become that:

What are little boys made of?
What are little boys made of?
Snips and snails
And puppy-dogs' tails
That's what little boys are made of

My wife is more devout than I am. I attended mass for All Saints Day with her at a parochial school, grades K-8. The kids were dressed up as saints. The only anomaly was a little guy with a rubber monster mask full of bloody scars he'd occasionally to put on to scare a little girl who giggled until his teacher scowled and wagged a finger at him.
 
..
Read gm's latest addition to his thread

Yes, or someimes this before some us become that:

What are little boys made of?
What are little boys made of?
Snips and snails
And puppy-dogs' tails
That's what little boys are made of

My wife is more devout than I am. I attended mass for All Saints Day with her at a parochial school, grades K-8. The kids were dressed up as saints. The only anomaly was a little guy with a rubber monster mask full of bloody scars he'd occasionally to put on to scare a little girl who giggled until his teacher scowled and wagged a finger at him.

I'm none the wiser really. Perhaps it's an American thing because very few of the things you allude to mean anything to me :(
 
Man sat under an oak tree, resting in its shade, then bird went kerplop!
 
Sound of the brass gong floats through the morning silence, call to meditate.
 
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Poor Magnetron clearly not a happy day, time to stroke your ego.

A poet I don't even know yet assumes my ego needs stroking.



Is that a troll under your bridge or are you just happy to see me?
 
A poet I don't even know yet assumes my ego needs stroking.



Is that a troll under your bridge or are you just happy to see me?


Never a troll they're nasty things, an ego is always needing care.

It was very forward, perhaps rude of me, to speak unknown to you.

Something deep touched my heart by your strong emotion, just a salving word.
 
Ancient Election Memory (Playground Edition)

John F Kennedy he's our man. Nixon belongs in a garbage can.
 
Serotonin flows through my brain, releasing a burst of happiness.

My love, sitting on a log within the green realms of a fern gully.

In a fern gully the air is fresh, clean and pure with birds in their song.
 
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