Mornin' all and sundry, gather 'round why don't you, as we embark on the peculiar tale of the 'Claptrap Concoction,' a CBD creation that came into my possession not a fortnight ago. Like a young boy with a fresh penny farthing, I was beaming with anticipation, 'twas almost impalpable.
Alas and alack, t'would seem that the wranglers of this doomed venture have more cunning than your sly riverboat gambler. Our adventure begins as such, with a bang and a whimper, for the Claptrap Concoction hath been tested on the unsuspecting critter, the Mouse Lemur, an innocent bystander hauled into man's relentless pursuit for pain alleviation. Vegan-friendly it is not, vegan scorning, it enthusiastically is! Might as well have fried the critter for supper, I say.
Now this CBD potion is not of the type that you chew, swallow, or wistfully slather on your skin. An edict was passed unto me, one that insisted upon the concoction to be applied generously to the region of the intercostals externals, 'twixt your ribs if your Latin's a bit rusty. Old age hath gifted me with a right bothersome case of intercostal discomfort, akin to a potbelly stove lit afire on a cold winter morn.
By the dim light of evening, I applied the perfidious Claptrap Concoction, its scent akin to hemp field frolicking with a skunk. The potion seeped into my ancient, war-torn skin, with promises of respite from the constant gnawing pain. The first notion that sojourned to join me was that of the cool element peppermint, a sensation much like skinnydippin' in a frozen riverbank, a feat surviving in the foggy recesses of my youth.
A mere quarter-hour hence, strange rumblings arose from the tried and tested intercostals, bringing forth a perplexing mix of stitches and spasms. Oh, fie on that misguidedly named Claptrap Concoction, for it did the very opposite of what it professed! The rather vivacious jig my ribs were performing under the influence of this dubious potion was a spectacle worthy of a Missouri hoedown, nay, not a minute of respite did I win from the relentless performance.
Last but never the least, I beheld an uncanny vision, almost as singular as it was confounding. Suddenly in the wee hours of morning, as tortured ribs writhed and twisted, I found myself, my very essence, transposed upon the spectral Mouse Lemur. Was it the influence of the elixir or my adrift thoughts?- I knew not. Ah! the cryptic dance of the Lemur and the beastly musical of my ribs, a memorable performance indeed.
In conclusion, dear readers, I would state, with a conviction strong as the Mississippi, that the Claptrap Concoction for bone-aching peccadillos, is an unnecessary bout of self-inflicted torment. A clear endeavor of claptrap indeed! It blinds you with grand allusions and leaves you flapping about like a fish up a tree.
Adieu, concerned constituents, spare thyself the journey to the apothecary. Sway not by the pompous name, it is but an oeuvre of duplicity, taking the hot air balloon for a night ride through your vitality.
'Til another curious renovation of canine hair or bird feather comes my way, keep thy senses tight and greens in the sight.
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Warmly,
Seymour
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