Brief Mane n Tail shampoo tall tell tale

Brief Mane n' Tail shampoo tall (tell) tale Living social amidst crime infested urban jungle bumping uglies cheek to jowl analogous fate being housed in jail escape room of great outdoors spurred subject matter in question to journey to hinterlands far from madding crowd of Fort Lauderdale woodsman ever watchful for Centaur the body and legs of a horse and with the head, arms, and torso of a male equipped with crossbow as scare tactic shaft piercing flesh no worse than nine inch nail vehemently decried nasty, short and brutish beastie boys Greek mythological character come to earth as animal savior considered louts unfairly advantageous killing wildlife as deal breaker for uber twittering overscale trespassers slaying innocent creature no matter game good n plenti eco consciousness mindedness prompted inner conflict to prevail as ace archer held taut likened to nock fletched arrow in quiver or shaking dandering quail caught in carnivorous crosshairs, where hunter doth regale and remember to embellish maxim one bird in the hand worth two in the bush opportunistically praises quarry as divine intervention after heavens he did intently surveil Brief Mane n' Tail shampoo tall (tell) tale as Jonah felt when he got swallowed by a whale. Once upon a time in a previous life of course, anonymous wordsmith tour de force yours truly (me) remembers being a horse, the handsome fine companion of one Norwegian bachelor farmer, who lived near Lake Wobegon, which Minnesota enclave analogous to Old Norse country, anyway while subsequently reincarnated as beast of burden animal (said steed synonyms courtesy Roget's Thesaurus), with flowing and glistening mane and tail cuz lovely and neighborly lass regularly shampooed former and latter, nevertheless, I escaped captivity and found myself in a fate far worse. In present incarnation shackled (née yoked like an oxen to a plow) manned courtesy Piers Plowman to husbandry duties after pledging troth and wed as generic bipedal hominid thoroughbred *****sapiens punk rocker, I plod and tread along boulevard of broken dreams, fast as greased lightning, I sped but these spindleshanks ain't quick enough, now as an old enfeebled gentleman well read luscious brown locks adorn noggin of me Mister Ned existential crisis offset washing hair (applying Mane n' Tail shampoo the only pride and joy) a wishy washy talking head until these lovely bones become dead, which cremains of min slated to get dispersed and scattered to the four winds where ashes will be absorbed buzzfeeding courtesy Horse Chestnut purpose driven life covering, functioning, and incorporating self analogous to bedspread.