How redundantly repetitive can you write? Try a sentence or two, or even a paragraph. Knowing that it's over-the-top incorrect is half the fun. (At least for me.)
She's sadistically mean. She likes to savagely denigrate you at every opportunity she gets. Derives a certain unhealthful, pathological, pleasure out of inflicting interminably, endless, psychological pain.
He hated, I mean absolutely despised, when he got so mad that he couldn't control his emotions. It just ticked him of that he felt so angry about his short temper. Why did he have such a short fuse? More importantly, why did he get so upset about it? It was infuriating.
She ran the race, knowing that she'd have to run. Runners, after all, ran in the race, running to be the best runner where running won the race if you ran faster than the other runners running in the race where you ran.
Don't tell me I'm erroneously wrong! Just tell me where I made or committed a mistake or where you see, perceive or detect a flaw.
I like this game- good idea Earphone. The extra, not unrepetitive parts of this sentence which I am currently writing and you are reading, after the process of writing this is no longer the state I am in, could, and should be removed for its superfluous redundancy, but even though the supererogatorily repetitive parts of it are so incredibly unnecessary, you are reading those excessively surplus parts, which not only have not been removed, but have been kept where they were before the time that they should have been removed, but weren't, because then they would not be there, and would be someplace else, as they could not be in a location that they are not in, which they weren't, because that is not the opposite of the state that it never will be in, which is not making any sense, and thus being unnecessary nonsensical nonsense. sorry I went a little overboard with it(which happens to be the opposite of not going overboard with it )
I always constantly told and said to her that she was pretty and attractive but she never listened or payed any attention to me.
So I said to him, speaking, implying that I was saying something that needed to be said, and telling him how I was going to say that something with words while speaking and saying the things that needed to be said. So That's what I told him anyway.
He was so tardily late, that his manager pulled him aside, away from the others, to tell him to improve his performance, and work harder, or risk getting fired, and losing his job.
The police asked, questioned and interrogated Bill about the killing, murder and death of his sibling brother.
He is bossy, domineering, Hiltler-like, and always forever eternally and constantly telling and dictating to others what to do or how he wants things specifically and especially done.
Bill prepared his letter, stuffing it in an envelope and looking for a stamp to place on the spot where stamps go on the envelope so he could then place the letter-- with the stamp placed in the correct location where the stamp needed to go in order to get properly mailed-- in the mail box where the post office would pick up and send all the letters which all had the proper stamp placed on them to the places where they were intended to go.
He said to me, forming carefully molded syllables, strung together in the order normally used by speakers of his native language, which they used when they attempted to communicate thoughts, ideas, or complex emotions, "I just said that." The air was forced out of his mouth just as if it were a small, moist, gust of wind, yet it carried the guttural sounds originating from his vibrating vocal chords and even those deep sounds were punctuated by stops of the tongue and lips. I couldn't help but to suspect that the message carried meaning beyond the string of sounds, and that perhaps, he was attempting a means of communication--to transfer some image or concept that might have originated within his brain (and yet, some how, was now subject to an attempt to conclude its journey in my brain). It was as if he believed that this cacophony of sound has some magical power of telepathy--or was a means to it...and that the string of noises would somehow create a bridge between our two awarenesses. As if his words carried meaning. As if he was trying to say something to me--or communicate something.
He looked at me, staring, watching, with his eyes in my direction. It was unnerving. I was unnerved, and distracted which caused me to walk into an open locker that was left open because someone had forgotten to close it, leaving it open.
This game is in need of a concise sentence, the person who was somewhat annoyed that a competitive game was made out of writing, making, and think up redundantly repetitive and tautological sentences and clearly wanted people to start writing, short, accessible, simple, non-wordy, non-verbose, eloquent, beautiful sentences thought while writing a beautifully short, accessible, simple, non-wordy, non-verbose, eloquent, and gorgeous sentence in a thread concerning a game which was about writing redundantly repetitive and tautological sentences. Then he slapped himself. Damn you, irony.
I am so fatigued with tired weariness that I could drop my eyelids and close my eyes, and cease to be awake by sleeping.
It may be said, or perhaps it has already been said - that a super saiyan saying 'simon says' suggests said super-sayian's soul should shoulder some scrutiny... still, some say such scrutiny stands somewhat superflous. I know this illiterate piece of literature i hath lit is alliteration. but stick to what you know.
