Retardant for Bombs in the Mail

So it seems of late that the where-abouts and why-to-for's of an certain someone have been much discussed over dinners, which ought to have thus been rendered superfluously tasty, as well as carnivals and candied yams which on inspection seals the fate of those who in their causality have degradated the only hope of re-supply to the said person who under no distress of his own has sought for the auspices of those who sought his ...and in so doing has found himself the master of his own universe, small as it may be, which however small is still his own , minus the fact that it is in desperate need of previsions in seasons needy and often dire yet not allayed, as things go inside a hole, but to so allay worry over or distress toward said subjects it is in the mind of the editor in joint to console and thus reconstitute the inconstituents of the foregoing considerations and to command their attentions to the stop signs ahead of their own path that perhaps and so by chance they may not in their cross travels over-traverse and thus extinguish the unsuspecting passer-by except in conditions where such happenings have chance to create and build up as in a non-elastic collision and both parties ever after go forward in one heart and one mind as these are the sincere and unadulterated desires of the afore-mentioned, who by the way has a home. In truth. I enjoy this hole.