the longest sentence in the world copy and paste10 marca 2023
the longest sentence in the world copy and paste

The single greatest invention of the computer gods. In otherwords, she's a small yappy dog who is big for her breed. as many times as possible before you splattered your brains on the rocks, all the while listening to a soundtrack that is similar to a dying ceiling fan. Everything is fine. I'm back. If that's not a vast conspiracy, then nothing on this Earth is. You expect far to much of the inanimate world. You don't have the best life of your counterparts, but you don't have the worst either. You can't blame me. I chanced to have an interview with an informant from this evil generation (my little sister) who will be called Mrs. X for security reasons (no, she's not married, the "Mrs" makes it good as a disguise) I was quizing Mrs. X on Civil War History for an upcoming test in her classroom (whose location can not be devulged) Mrs. X seemed fluent in the subject. If you make a purchase, My Modern Met may earn an affiliate commission. Today we had a "family outing." That's right, folks, mass hypnosis via commercials. i like sugar. Then you'll see these cute little "days-of-the-week" earrings at the mall, and you'll just have to get a few sets, just in case you lose some. Make your wife happy by sending her any of these romantic long paragraphs here. Unsubscribe at any time. Time for another quote from the FLAMING CHICKEN HANDBOOK!!! Jonathan Coes The Rotters Clubends with a 33-page long whopper with 13,955 words in it. But I'd like to take this time to thank the 2 and 1/2 people in the entire universe who have bothered to read this entire thing. This means that we only have a very short while to prepare. EryeahI'm back. Any use thereof that is not stated in the above mentioned statement would make the author, hereby referred to as Patron Saint of Paper Clips, very angry. 8 min ago And you probably suspect that it is something pathetic. *waits for readers to become insanely jealous* Yep, that's right, a bar with a pool table! Or maybe you're just skimming. Yea, me! Seeya. Did you know that I now possess a DOMAIN NAME? You know, the small, white feather. No? Just like everyone else in my family. Ormaybe it's the feather off of the cartoon owl from the tootsie-roll pop comercials (onetwothree..*crunch*). You're shocked at my selfish, bad, memory. Any miniute now. *blinks* Wowso I'm NOT paranoid. TACO is still in my heart. If you judged everything by what it doesn't acomplish, then the entire world is populated by pointless beings. HUH? THen we go to library. I'm not sure why. actually claim to be mentally ill. That's either a) a publicity stunt b) An attempt at humor c) a cry for help or d) none of the above You can e-mail your responses by conducting a scavenger hunt of this site. When I tried to talk to him, he tossed it away nonchalantly and pretended he hadn't heard me. All the good possibilities effectivly cancel out the bad ones, leaving the sum total of you and your counterparts experiences as nothing. become not entertained, the Patron Saint of Paper Clips will be forced to take drastic measures. Nor can I find it on any search engines. Megan has hair. The title contains the longest word. There are an infinite number of worlds with Harry Potter. No matter how unlikely something is, if the universe is infinite, it's happening an infinite number of times. Men, of course, had no complaints. I mean, come on! were stuck in here, (alone my dear) and well problem never get out so dont start to shout. OrI could just continue to write about finding a topic. We accept PayPal, Venmo (@openculture), Patreon and Crypto! Maybe I should start on a boring disclaimerEh-hem. The universe is EVERYTHING, how can it end? MOOOO! Just like all those reports people have to do. This choice is simply an extension of his original choice: he will save Trinity at all costs. What do you think, Hypothetical Reader? All along, my entire family has scoffed (nifty word, isn't it?) No one is really coming here, anyway. You'll wear these "festive" earings for about a day and then abandon them in some dark cranny of your closet because you simply can't wear the same earrings two years in a row for heaven's sake! Yes, that's right. But for now I can only dream of that. Not one of those bargain ones anyone can find at your local topic discount outlet store. I love owls. And then I'll be writing for me again. | 13.63 KB, JSON | Okay. It's been pretty quiet here lately, which is why I haven't added anything to this text in awhile. AND THAT IS WHY TOASTER PASTRIES WILL BURST INTO FLAMES IF YOU DON'T KEEP AN EYE ON THEM! Number Two: I could helped the earth to find eternal and lasting peace. My family also strongly suspects that she stole $20 from the donation thingy. Or have I been doing that too much lately? I have readers. Humor the crazy person, okay? i cannot feel my feet. Think about it. Won't that be fun? That's why I like fast-food salt. I've done what I've set out to accomplish. I SEE WHAT IS TRANSPIRING HERE!!! This is specified in Code: 343 of the Flaming Chicken Handbook. Parents would buy their children computers, video games and other television neccesities. WOOF! "Purified" water. The inanimate world, on the otherhand, expects nothing of you. Or maybe the Energizer Bunny. With the exact same words, motions and emotions. Okay, one day, in the future, smoke dectectors will probably activate litte fire-fighter bots that every home will have. I've been obsessed with various webcomics, creating the stupidly long new Phobia Quiz and being maniacly hysterical about my site always being down due to bandwith issues. Were hoping to rely on our loyal readers rather than erratic ads. Meanwhile there is a vast conspiracy at school to keep me ignorant about my pawn roll in the other vast conpiracy by keeping me vastly bored. And throughly pissed off at my school system in general. Hmmmmmmm. I see. You could be floating out in empty space, conjuring nice little fantasies to relieve the monotony of being the only living being! It was uncomfortable in the back, it was too hot, it was too cold. It actually lists what random minerals they through in to make it TASTE like salt. You must be caught in a time warp. Okay. One day the chief sent his servants everywhere to find a good story-teller. why must everyone always rhyme, why Im a poet and dont I know it? With an infinite universe, there are infinite possibilites. Lots of people spoke. Soair pressure can be a good thing. BYE!!! Why do I have to work year round? Now I'm back. Insane, chaotichmmmmmI wonder who thought of it? Any cookies that may not be particularly necessary for the website to function and is used specifically to collect user personal data via analytics, ads, other embedded contents are termed as non-necessary cookies. I found at that yet another one of my friends is reading this. By the time the smoke dector goes off, the fire has drowned it out to no more than an annoying buzz. Eventually, this would become a monthly tradition. Hmmmmmmonkey. Goodwhat? And then the quality will rise. If I were to suddenly convert this entrie site into a *shudders* Backstreet Boys fan site or something, you wouldn't be any more suprised than I would be if my brother woke up one day and suddenly realized that he's shallow. It makes me sad*sniffle* WellI feel better now. As long as I'm happy, right. Code: 843 of the Flaming Chicken Handbook states that in no way is the Patron Saint of Paper Clips (guess who?) Hey, I'm once again: back. See? And do I ever have a topic today! Yesthat's rightsuicide. *blinks* And I STILL can't remember what else I was gonna say to you people. It's the same concept. I came up with this philosophy when I was in fifth grade. Aren't I special? Soit doesn't bother to find all solutions, and it may be wrong. GRAVITY IS EVIL! Fighting in the American Civil War? Unfortunatly, I once again am devoid of a topic. They are not great neccesarily because of the content, (although that helps some) they are great because of their sheer length. I'm back. YOU WILL NOT SINK MY CHEERIO!! Gee, I hope not! But that's the kind of thing I like. Celebrating creativity and promoting a positive culture by spotlighting the best sides of humanityfrom the lighthearted and fun to the thought-provoking and enlightening. How can any company that takes so many "wholesome" pictures not be? And, once again, I have proof that someone actually took the time (two hours) to read this entire Longest Text Ever! Now, those have possibilities. I think that they should routinly die a slow, savage, agonizing deathI was just saying a random thing that I would never, ever do.) Number Five: I could have read more books, played more video games and watched more mindless television. You remember my Moose's arch-enemy, don't you? That's right, a sword! Another reason why this isn't as long as Galaxy's is that I refuse to write every day as it would--this is the funny part--LOWER THE QUALITY OF MY OVERALL WORK! Untill such time that I have more. I better stop typing before I have a heart attackjust rememberThe Matrix has youI'm back. The author's vision was unique in that only he put biscuits and death in the same sentence. Well, look at you? Right? If so, I guess I won't be writing here for quite awhileseeya. (and redundancy!) I'm tired. OF FREAKIN' COURSE IT WAS FREE! To pour your heart and soul into a passage, and have everyone ignore it. They add random minerals to our water to make it taste better, and then advertise it as pure! It was inspired, in part, by my sheer and utter boredom. Who am I kidding? With our patented "spray". To support Open Cultures educational mission, please consider, When William Faulkner Set the World Record for Writing the Longest Sentence in Literature: Read the 1,288-Word Sentence from, 100+ Online Degree & Mini-Degree Programs. First of all, you'd have to have an extrodinary amount of free time. What does this mean to you? *holds up a piece of paper, which, from a distance, appears to have writing on it* Yes, undenyable proof! Seeya. I'm fairly certain she knows it's not alive, though. Just exactly like Father if Father had known as much about it the night before I went out there as he did the day after I came back thinking Mad impotent old man who realized at last that there must be some limit even to the capabilities of a demon for doing harm, who must have seen his situation as that of the show girl, the pony, who realizes that the principal tune she prances to comes not from horn and fiddle and drum but from a clock and calendar, must have seen himself as the old wornout cannon which realizes that it can deliver just one more fierce shot and crumble to dust in its own furious blast and recoil, who looked about upon the scene which was still within his scope and compass and saw son gone, vanished, more insuperable to him now than if the son were dead since now (if the son still lived) his name would be different and those to call him by it strangers and whatever dragons outcropping of Sutpen blood the son might sow on the body of whatever strange woman would therefore carry on the tradition, accomplish the hereditary evil and harm under another name and upon and among people who will never have heard the right one; daughter doomed to spinsterhood who had chosen spinsterhood already before there was anyone named Charles Bon since the aunt who came to succor her in bereavement and sorrow found neither but instead that calm absolutely impenetrable face between a homespun dress and sunbonnet seen before a closed door and again in a cloudy swirl of chickens while Jones was building the coffin and which she wore during the next year while the aunt lived there and the three women wove their own garments and raised their own food and cut the wood they cooked it with (excusing what help they had from Jones who lived with his granddaughter in the abandoned fishing camp with its collapsing roof and rotting porch against which the rusty scythe which Sutpen was to lend him, make him borrow to cut away the weeds from the door-and at last forced him to use though not to cut weeds, at least not vegetable weeds -would lean for two years) and wore still after the aunts indignation had swept her back to town to live on stolen garden truck and out o f anonymous baskets left on her front steps at night, the three of them, the two daughters negro and white and the aunt twelve miles away watching from her distance as the two daughters watched from theirs the old demon, the ancient varicose and despairing Faustus fling his final main now with the Creditors hand already on his shoulder, running his little country store now for his bread and meat, haggling tediously over nickels and dimes with rapacious and poverty-stricken whites and negroes, who at one time could have galloped for ten miles in any direction without crossing his own boundary, using out of his meagre stock the cheap ribbons and beads and the stale violently-colored candy with which even an old man can seduce a fifteen-year-old country girl, to ruin the granddaughter o f his partner, this Jones-this gangling malaria-ridden white man whom he had given permission fourteen years ago to squat in the abandoned fishing camp with the year-old grandchild-Jones, partner porter and clerk who at the demons command removed with his own hand (and maybe delivered too) from the showcase the candy beads and ribbons, measured the very cloth from which Judith (who had not been bereaved and did not mourn) helped the granddaughter to fashion a dress to walk past the lounging men in, the side-looking and the tongues, until her increasing belly taught her embarrassment-or perhaps fear;-Jones who before 61 had not even been allowed to approach the front of the house and who during the next four years got no nearer than the kitchen door and that only when he brought the game and fish and vegetables on which the seducer-to-bes wife and daughter (and Clytie too, the one remaining servant, negro, the one who would forbid him to pass the kitchen door with what he brought) depended on to keep life in them, but who now entered the house itself on the (quite frequent now) afternoons when the demon would suddenly curse the store empty of customers and lock the door and repair to the rear and in the same tone in which he used to address his orderly or even his house servants when he had them (and in which he doubtless ordered Jones to fetch from the showcase the ribbons and beads and candy) direct Jones to fetch the jug, the two of them (and Jones even sitting now who in the old days, the old dead Sunday afternoons of monotonous peace which they spent beneath the scuppernong arbor in the back yard, the demon lying in the hammock while Jones squatted against a post, rising from time to time to pour for the demon from the demijohn and the bucket of spring water which he had fetched from the spring more than a mile away then squatting again, chortling and chuckling and saying `Sho, Mister Tawm each time the demon paused)-the two of them drinking turn and turn about from the jug and the demon not lying down now nor even sitting but reaching after the third or second drink that old mans state of impotent and furious undefeat in which he would rise, swaying and plunging and shouting for his horse and pistols to ride single-handed into Washington and shoot Lincoln (a year or so too late here) and Sherman both, shouting, Kill them!

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