I had pondered penning a wondrous proposition proving the complex perfidy that proudly preens past, pressed hungrily against the patriotic potboiler whose purloined pseudonym is the pernicious Victory!®
since everyone knows insistent Iranian influence shall illuminate Iraq with such incandescence as to incinerate our irises, thus further inculcating an insidious incomprehension of inexorable intensity,
we are left with
naught but an endless gnawing of bloodstained grout found glissando on the greasy ground of our own greatest generational grotesquerie, the gurgling groan of greedy gullets its grimy elegy. Whatever, let's
rock and roll.