Western Wallaby

Hitherto it was formerly explained inasmuch as could be perceived how the western wallaby waxed its whiskers.  It was clearly described by John as a descending boulder from the pearly gates in the heavens where monkeys hold giant strawberries that sing high-pitched operatic notes.  Martha disagreed.  For as long as her whale blubber simmered on the stove, she just couldn’t shake the feeling that she was being watched by evil ostrich overlords via the wall-mounted surveillance cameras.  Thank god her birthday was this year.  She would get her landlord to set things straight.  In the meantime, she could only recline on that bulldozing elliptical bike and look through the leftmost passenger rearview mirror at the entire savanna passing her by.   Ah, to be eighty-seven again.