This has been a truly remarkable, mind-boggling day. Things have occurred which were totally beyond my apprehension, things unparalyzed in the history of mankind. Let me share some of them with you.
I should’ve known it was going to be a terrible, no-good, very bad day because of the weird dream I’d had just before waking up. In the dream, I’d gone canoeing on a bright day, but suddenly the weather turned bad and I found myself far from shore in a torrential downpour. Then, when I reached the boat-landing, there was no land at all, and I decided to keep on paddling in the direction I thought would take me home. Just as suddenly as the rain had arrived, the sun again shone, but the flood damage was so bad, FEMA was already evaporating Westminster. What’s more, my canoe turned into my Harley, and I had to contend with mud six inches deep on Sykesville Road, which was like riding with a milestone around my neck.
As I said, I should’ve known to suspect a bad day. At breakfast my wife, who’s ordinarily the pineapple of politeness, seemed as headstrong as an allegory on the banks of the Nile, snapping at me to eat fewer carbs and more protein. Of course I reprehended the true meaning of her suggestions: she thought I needed to lose weight. I just thought she could’ve been a bit more dispassionate in pointing out my weaknesses. After all, she’s primarily the one who shops for food, so if there are too many carbohydrate-filled foods in the house, she, of all people, should know that I have very little affluence over our eating habits.
At the office, I tried to focus on my work, but a colleague, a man of great statue, actually, kept needling me about the Orioles’ 1-0 loss to the Indians, a real cliff-dweller, as Wes used to say. Then he shifted to politics. He knows he can get under my skin quickly by bashing both Democrats and Republicans, because I’m inclined to see the demerit in both Parties. He dredged up the old arguments that liberals were too permissive and anti-family, at which point I tried to intercept a rejoinder.
He was on the verge of unleasing a hornet’s nest, but he wouldn’t stop. The Dems, he claimed, were merely wolves in cheaps' clothing, while the Republicans were determined not to let terrorists and rogue nations hold America hostile. Sometimes he extirpated me so much I believed he really favored England’s limited mockery to our own form of government. Reminding him we weren’t making money hand over foot and therefore ought to constipate on work, I tried to distract him with a modest preposition: at lunch we could discuss anything he wanted to, but only for fifteen minutes.
Unfortunately, the horrible day continued and we never had that lunch together. Around ten, I left the office to fetch some supplies, backed out of the parking space in the front lot, thought I’d heard a funny noise behind the car, shifted to Park, hopped out, walked to the rear of the car, saw nothing unusual, and took one step towards the driver’s door, which I’d left open. That’s when a pick-up truck carrying a trailer backed into the front left fender of my car. I kept screaming, but to no avail. By the time the driver of the truck finished backing up, his trailer had gouged the entire left side of my car—which I’d purchased only six months ago. And the day reached its pitiful low point when I took my next step, slipped on a banana peel, and wrenched my back. Lying on the ground, I saw that there was a Harley emblem painted on the back of the trailer, but when I looked for the license plate, to get the driver’s number, all I saw was mud—the mud of my dream! And then the guy in the truck, oblivious to what he’d just done to my new car, simply drove away. I should have stayed in bed.
You can validate your puzzle solution with certitude.