The plan was simple, simple was the plan - like tykes like the name of the or a band, undeserving of the “the”, man.
(“[But that’s just like, your opinion [followed by the aforementioned type of hollowed homosapian]”)
Homophone. Like gays with telephones. And synonyms of buns in cinnamon.
Any way, distracted as I am, I had to react to a simple man, simple in the traditional sense, as in he had none. He, half-dead, said;
"Son, the sun shuns my attempts at conversation"
And so I, with mine eyes, replied;
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