I stayed home for a couple days and got blotto four times. I did the usual bad drunk routine; cried a lot, moaned about my life.

He belted out Sweet Child of Mine at the karaoke.

The almost inaudible tchick of the panic button, the beep of the toxin test kit accompanied by green light indicating that he was not poisoned and click, screech and the clicktic of the front entrance.

the sameliness of the melody, its majestic uniformity