The fire crackled and burned in the house behind them, swiftly and voraciously devouring photographs, furniture, and toys, blazing with the raw, unabated fury of an Old Testament God extracting vengeance from those who had transgressed against Him – while the modern day equivalent of Lot and his family could only watch in awe as every last thing they owned, every petty knick-knack and bauble, were reduced to slag and ash.

Janet, still dripping wet from the shower she had just stepped out of, slammed the telephone receiver down in rage while clutching the plush terrycloth towel wrapped around her body and wondered aloud why no one ever invented an audible caller ID device that would verbally let her know when it was a telemarketer calling her at times like these rather than her ex-boyfriend, with whom she was eager to reunite despite the fact that he completely blew off their six month anniversary so that he could go to a stupid Super Bowl party with his spiteful and immature friends.

I was wondering, just out of curiosity, if any of the members here at Worth, who are amongst the most intelligent, thoughtful, and helpful people that I have ever had the pleasure of knowing, have any idea or even the merest inkling of just what is the exact number of words that are in that quite well known, albeit somewhat infamous sentence from the classic 1862 French novel, Les Miserables by Victor Hugo, that although commonly acknowledged to be the longest sentence in a novel, is not usually considered by the literary police to be in fact, a run-on sentence?

The problem with a contest of this nature is that by the time you get down to this entry located so near the end of the list (unless, of course, you are one of those rare people who vote on the entries from “bottom” to “top”) your eyes feel ready to explode from reading so many previous run-on sentences that you think to yourself that you can’t bear much more but you hunker down to finish out the voting and hope the entrants appreciate your efforts particularly when the author isn’t kind enough to include breaks like commas or semi-colons.

Have you ever noticed, when old friends get together how they begin to talk in shorthand and their words blend, sentences and grammar become irrelevant, and in some instances, a mere word, gesture or phrase will send them into gails of laughter as they remember some indiscretion of one or another of them and how they handle it with the respect it deserves and how someone always ends up laughing longer and harder and this often sets them all off again and then when the laughing is done, they all seem to glow with the shared joy of old friends?

We are often given pause to ponder the age old question of just what possible reason that little common flightless bird, more commonly known as a chicken, could have which would instill in it the fortitude, and yes, even the ability to attempt, despite all the well known dangers of the incredibly fast and constant traffic that went past it’s little hutch everyday, to venture out and cross that long lonely stretch of paved road via whatever means necessary in order to quench that never ending thirst that filled whatever type of soul could be said to inhabit that chicken.

The trouble with the poodles was, they wouldn’t stop barking, wouldn’t stop moving, no matter how much I yelled they would not sit, or stay, they just kept yapping and running around the boat, and they kept climbing over poor Marcy, who was just trying to take a nap, even though it was so very hot during the day, and the least the stupid dogs could do was let her sleep, except she wasn’t sleeping, she was dead, and I guess the real trouble with the poodles was that the poodles weren’t really there at all, just me, just me.

I just wanted to apologize for my indiscretion at the halftime show this past Sunday because I accidentally showed my privates in front of millions of people on TV when Justin unintentionally pulled away my modest covering during my exotic gyrations while he was taunting me with his sexy new lyrics of his new smash hit single due soon on radio and MTV that of course coincides with my new smash hit that in no way depends on the relationship to my famous brother Michael who has a real habit of exposing himself to children all of the time.

It was aproximately 2 years ago this very month, in the year of our lord two thousand and two that Avi Muchnick and Israel Derdik had the vision and the wherewithal to succesfully bring forth unto the world wide web a new and drastically improved and quite unique web site devoted to Photoshop type contests that would attract a level of amazingly creative and talented people from all over the world such has never to have graced the internet in one place before and would go on to great universal acclaim from the media and people everwhere except for Spectrum5.

I'd just like to thank my Aunties for inspiring me to write this because whenever they get together they talk in run-on sentences without even stopping to take a breath or think about what they're saying and they usually say something they regret which causes an arguement and one of my uncles reminding them all that if they just stopped for a second and thought about what they were saying then they wouldn't have said what they did but they always have so much to say to each other that they can't do that can they?