My life has consisted of numerous pathetic qualities that make up me, Paul. I have been branded many names in my seventeen years of life, Paul being the most resent and perhaps one I favor, although I can't say I have reached such a conclusion. "The Ball" I would once respond to. This derogatory term that I was once associated with was concocted by my brother, who has to this day, many cold feelings for me. "The Ball" then mutated into Paul and it is now somewhat of a loving term used to address me.
Now having read the above paragraph, you may wonder why I have constructed a topic sentence that may spawn a number of questions and then pretend that it had never been written. I have a lot of qualities that may repulse some. Until very recently, I was unable to consume a handful of dry breakfast cereal with out spilling the majority down my person and I still find the task of keeping myself free from a food covered body a challenge. And I must confess to the extreme amount of concentration needed for me to be able perform the said task successfully.
So there we go, two paragraphs later, the topic sentence has been addressed. The crop has been harvested. But still I feel that I have not been able to inform you of my poor qualities in a way that will not leave you confused. Am I the only person who can understand my writing? I have enough understanding of that as I do of my sick habits.
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