How many pickles have I picked off of sandwiches and thrown away in my life span?  I'm positive it's a prodigious number!  

I'm of the persuasion that pickles aren't particularly palatable, and I've been pondering the number of pickles I've passed along and disposed of into trash receptacles.  Please don't presume I have a deep passion against pickles, but I emphatically profess that I prefer something less pungent.  My pallate has a propensity for foods like peanuts, pears, pork chops, pies, and Papa John's pizza.

I don't mean for my personal feelings toward pickles to provoke pugnacious behavior or to plunge us into perturbation.  I also hope that my pensive opinion doesn't sound puerile, but rather is perspicuous as it pertains to my premise.  Give pause and please pardon my pontifications if you dispute.

If you are appalled by the plurality of the pattern to this passage, and if it isn't apropos, I apologize.  It is simply that I have a preponderance of perception in opposition to pickles.  I plead that this doesn't appoint me as a pariah, but instead contemplate me as a pacifier among proletarians.  To wrap things up, I pronounce a proscription on pickles!

Get the point?