I was lost.  Nature was all around me with plans of letting me escape her grasp.  I had been stuck in this vast tropical forest going on two days now with no hope of escape in sight.  But then, salvation!  I stumble upon an old kayak on the bank of the river I had been following.  Looking around to see if anyone was there I was still alone.  How odd.  A kayak without a pilot.  This is an atrocity, I thought.  Who am I to sit here and leave this kayak without a captain.  It is my civil duty as a lover of the outdoors to take this kayak and pilot it, and myself, to safety.  So I got in the kayak and took it down that river until I was back into society, a welcomed sight indeed.  When I got home I felt the need to write about my adventure, call it an urge or itch.  So I sat down at my typewriter (computers are so overrated these days) and started to pump out my narrative.  But suddenly, the table collapsed from under my typewriter as it tumbled down upon my exposed feet.  Ah the pain! Ah the irony! How can something so tame hurt so much.  It wasn’t as bad as I thought but it left a nasty scar that will always remind me of my harrowing journey through the woods only to be brought down by a vicious typewriter.  Then I made a cake