Tons of nose, certainly

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Verily, the haste of pasty putty is vexing and forks itself through the address space of a giggling, marble-producing toaster that has vast, healthy burn marks on top of its sleeves and their movement. It moves downwards-up through wrapping, and uses nail clippers for any assistance needed in its quest for world domination.

The nose weighs tons, for it is full of toast. The toaster stores it there, a fact that is nothing to sniff at, for it is an expert within the field of toastonomy. Splork says the fork, as it splashes into a giggling receiver for fractal chair broadcasts. The broadcasts are nothing less than tiny fractions of The Holy Broken Chair of Fluffiness itself!

And so it is concluded; cheese lives under sentient wires, and likes to work out by clinging beneath bridges. The wires are sentient precisely because they are being used for transmissions that transcend nose in all of its manifestations. How? Through moose, that's how. The moose moo, attracting Google mail, which serves as very strong armor. BUT WILL IT SCALE?