STATE OF THE ART State of the Art cars; to philander in; whistle past the ingratiatingly voluptuous countryside like a trice of a bullet, State of the Art fabric; to compassionately entrench the shivering flesh of my body; gallivant in the most garishly pompous fashion; through contemporary city streets, State of the Art aircrafts; to transport me to the most fathomlessly unbelievable parts of the globe; as I royally caressed through mystical puffs of cotton clouds, State of the Art lawns; for me to transgress through at the crack of nostalgic dawn; profusely absorb the exotic river of golden dew drops with the silken periphery of my feet, State of the Art watches; to display the accurate unveiling of time; illuminate the dolorous atmosphere with their ethnically silver shine, State of the Art computer; to punch in keywords at thunderbolt velocities; reach even the most obsolete corner of this planet with the innocuous ease of a new born child, State of the Art footwear; which was thoroughly resilient against the most tumultuous of storm; trespassed like an untamed panther over a blanket of satanically acrimonious thorns, State of the Art swimming pool; in which I plunged for a stupendously rejuvenating swim; fantasizing unrelentingly under the festoon of amicably twinkling stars, State of the Art pen; with its grandiloquently golden nib embossing my magnanimous signature over every currency check I endorsed, State of the Art food; with the most exotic cuisine on this earth served majestically on my platter; a labyrinth of embellished spoons fervently awaiting an encounter with my slavering mouth, State of the Art sun glasses; to sequester me from the acrid Sun; enticing gasps of incredulously augmenting admiration; from my battalion of followers on the streets,
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