Read this paragraph somewhere:
Wierd Writewords writers wrestle wondrous wrangles with words. Heads hurt - hard, hurried hours, hearing heightened holistic homilies. Prolific pendanticists pour profundities pensively. Shocked subscribers sigh "such superb soliloquies" - seemingly so simple, so sincere. Agents agonise, and afterwards accept all authors, aghast at accumulating acumen.
One day when the wind blew wild there was a tiger with white white paws who wanted to chew on someone. So Kaworukun (that was his name) leaped into the wilderness and went a surching. He found his white paws gave him away and so took alias of several new identities. He never changed his paws though so he was never discuised well enough to chew on anyone.
That poor tiger.