The full phat moon slipped over the sullen night sky like sour margarine sliding across a hot bonnet. Its yellow light ran down onto the city beneath, its alleys and streets sharp with the diseased glare. The moon, at its most round, had made some inhabitants of the city feel a little strange and they paced their drab bedsits howling and shaking. But none so stange as the vast, cement form which lurked out behind the gas works, its girdered sinews and brick dust breath filling the sky. Its eyes were long church like windows and its body a conglomerate of stone and wood. It hunted smaller prey, buildings which could not move fast enough, bungalows which died a quick, panicky death. And as it stared up at the moons acne ridden face it let out a terrible howling blast, which made the shops and offices quiver in fear. Yes - it was that most terrible of lycanthropes, it was a Warehouse.

Nice one France, I mean it would be fine if you voted no for the right reasons but it seems that you did so because you were pissed off with your government. So thats fucked the constituion nicely.

A bit tiresome, but cognitive displaysia is a very familiar feeling.....Merriam-Webster Online