5 MWE a dangerous catamaran hilariously placed

A broken femur. A banyan tree. A dead person sitting on the roots of a banyan tree. It is possible to be dead and still sitting. It is possible to be dead and still in the process of lying. He told me about two of his near death experiences. I didn't believe either of him. I spoke of going to Alcoholics Anonymous meeting with my fathers. I would help make the coffee and take out the seats. I once went to an AA retreat with my father. It was at the beach. I read a book about being lost for 76 days at sea. I beat everyone at Jenga because so few hands around there were steady. My father, when he walks, points the toes of his feet out. He is a narcissist. After he visited me, he was unable to leave his room for five days. He pissed and shat in plastic bags. He could not leave his room. When he visited me, he walked me to school and showed me how to tie knots. He fed me the cheapest food. He made an endtable and then, later, kicked me over it. I heard something down the hall. I had my door cracked open. I had my elbows on the carpet. In the morning, my elbows were still red. He had died under a banyan tree, and we held his services at the beach. The beach did not smell good that day. I found a piece of coral that must have been launched off the top of a building.

He was not comfortable enough to do anything. A daisy. Some goldenrod. A plucked silversword. We weren't supposed to be on the golfcourse at night. We broke open glowsticks and doused balls with them. We weren't supposed to ice skate on certain days. For the first time, I got hockey skates. He was so fat, when he laughed, he moved all the bleachers. He ruined his expensive shoes to impress me. He wanted to impress an menace that was present. He considered me a menace, but his mother plead with me to call her Alberta. I refused, so she broke a porcelain dish and used it do cut the evening's steaks. We put up a tent in the basement, and, inside it, sniffed things we shouldn't have. She didn't give me a cadeau because she was too self-conscious. He had the odd sensation that he could burn it over and again. Touched an oven. Had the odd sensation. Her speech was full of dactyls. She often inserted a full stop. Not one part of our bodies ever touched, so I started to despair off the side of the interstate. I wondered when we would see each other again at first--but then I became distracted by a motorcycle accident and two women who should have died in it.

He preferred the sound of the ratchet to her moaning. Always moaning about some kind of aloneness. It was exhausting, though he took exception to any use of the word exhausting. It was horribly exciting. Was it? Was it really that horrible? It wasn't that it was horrible. It was that it was exciting--and--with that excitement came an attendant horribleness. He had a front tooth chipped. He smoked cigarettes, so he really got grime in that front tooth chip. The wearing of a straw porkpie hat will not be tolerated in this home. His hat has a dark band of sweat. He would like to know how long it would take to feel catharsis. I tell him that better eulogies are on their way. My favorite thing I have ever heard. I have never heard anything better than better eulogies are on their way. It is just the thing, and it makes me feel as though I have just thrashed a childhood friend in the warm shallows of the beach closest to the house. She gave me a switchblade. I had begged for it. I also wanted a medallion. When I was a child, over and again, I drew badges. I made gauntlets for myself out of toilet paper tubes. I hated the bell choir, but I liked the heft of the big ones when I knocked them.