Scribbling nonsense all across the board like jaguars leaping from trees of leather bodices encasing aged withered corpses whose eyes dazzle with the light of one million and three silver satellites flying over Los Angeles hiding illegal immigrants from Irish potato farms built atop the golden ruins of El Dorado filled with demonic Ewoks hurling tremendous tankards of tons of Tylenol at the panda bear ninjas that hide around every corner of the magic square building trying desperately to pull up its skirt and set roots on another cubic square inch of the board upon which I am scribbling nonsense.