They have been swamped ever since they started advertising.

Even a blind hen sometimes finds a grain of corn.

When we had crossed from Gaul, guided by the lofty sealight of Dubrae (Dover, if you will), our mariners cast anchor under the massive walls of the citadel of Rutupiae, chief port in our remote province of Britain, which is, in your tongue, Richborough, near Sanwich.

Here's a rigmarolish paragraph, you say, about such a trifle as triliterality.