a humble vaudvillian veteran cast vicariously as both victim and villain by the vicissitudes of fate. This visage, no mere veneer of vanity is a vestige of the vox populi, now vacant, vanished. However, this valorous visitation of a bygone vexation stands vivified and has vowed to vanquish these venal and virulent vermin vanguarding vice and vouchsafing te violently vicious and voracious violation of volition. The only verdict is vengence, a vendetta held as a votive not in vain, for the value and veracity of such shal one day vindicate the vigiland and the virtuous. Verilly, this vichyssose of verbiage veers most verbose. So let me add that it's my very good honor to meet you may call me V. Etc.
When my brother Harrold asked me to be the best man at his wedding, I was like of course man. You've always been ther for me, like when I was in rehab, and like the time I couldn't find my car. Cause Harrold has always been the dependable one, and I've always been the screwed up one. Right dad? Why can't you be more like your brother? Harrold would never beat up his landlord. But uh, newsflash pop, Harrold ain't so perfect. Remember that time in Puero Rico when we picked up those two uh, well I guess they were prostitutes but I don't remember paying.