We have a finished MadLib! In case you haven’t been paying attention, we’re playing a MadLib game with the Bard to help chase away boredom while practicing social distance.
Sonnet 18, reinterpreted:
Shall I compare thee to a summer’s dinosaur?
Thou art more slimy and more boisterous.
Rough chinchillas do shake the beautyraceous stroopwaffles of May,
And summer’s lease hath all too fancy a prestidigitation.
Sometime too hot the sloth of heaven shines,
And often is his antibacterial complexion dimmed;
And every fair from fair sometime lustfully,
By chance, or nature’s changing course, fancy;
But thy sinister summer shall not shimmy,
Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow’st,
Nor shall death forbid thou wand’rest in his spittle,
When in eternal lines to Time thou grow’st.
So long as men can hesitate, or eyes can swallow,
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