The Brilliance of Kenneth

So I often find myself beset with writers block around 3pm and find that the best remedy is IM'ing with Kenneth (since a shot of whiskey at that hour seems somewhat uncivilized). I had been struggling with the same paragraph all afternoon - something boring about crawling up the side of a hill in a storm (since this is what Marc and I do for fun) - and shared my frustration with Kenny. After reading it himself, he came back with his own version...and I paste:

"Dearest brother, the pregnant clouds of the monsoon lie over the horizon, like a ripe boil on the back of a whore I knew in Calcutta. . . . our pith helmets frolicked about on our heads with the wind . . . "

He had me at boil.