It is the ultimate insult for the gifted typist: the cliche. But alas, cliche was the fate of the pumpkin-on-steriods on halloween night. It was smashed.
This typist would like to thank the smashers for making the job of disposing of the 200lb gourd a little easier, if cliche.
This typist would also like to thank the smashers for smashing the pumpkin, and not the cat.
Then again, perhaps smashing the latter might
have done the former a favour. Kidding.
The typist loves the cat.
