Can you write a paragraph without using vowels more than once per word

Can you write a paragraph without using vowels more than once per word?


Yes, because there are so many monosyllabic words (many of Anglo-Saxon origin) in the language.

I have a feeling, though, that the paragraph would look like something from a first-grade reader or a nursery rhyme.
“Jack and Jill,” for example, has only three double-syllable words.
I think it can be done with single vowels, too.

Out of respect for the rules of typography, this paragraph is several paragraphs long.
If you spot two vowels in one word, please notify authorities.

“Run, Jack! No, don’t! Don’t run!” Jill is sad … and darn mad.

“Run? Don’t run? Why? What’s up?” asks Jack.

“It’s the cops!” Jill is still both sad and darn mad.
And Jack? Just sad.
It’s the cops and the two know what a cop car is for.

“I’m not a bad guy! I did it all for my thirst.
Ya know how thirst can be! … we just fetch the cold wet stuff when we got to get by.
Ya know that!”
“I know, I know, but it’s not that.
That’s not it.
It’s this.
” She holds it up.
It’s bright red.
It’s the thing to fetch with.

“Who owns that? Not me, that I know.
” He sighs.
“Wasn’t it just up at the well?”
“Heck yes.
But it … it’s Mr.
Beck’s.

“Aw, yo! And so he rats to the cops on us? For that old thing?
“Yep.
Theft of that.
Old pal Mr.
Beck.

“That darn guy! And it was when he saw us up in the yard at the well, that’s when he sics the cops on us, isn’t it? Was that his yard up top of the hill? I did not know that.
And his well? But that rat!”
“Mr.
Beck is not a rat.
He just stands for the law and a man’s right to own a red thing in his own yard and not let us at it.

“A pail? A dumb red pail? The pail is what will get us sent up? The cold wet stuff is in my gut by now, so it’s the dumb pail?”
“No, don’t do that! We can’t.

“What? Say Pail? Why can’t I say pail?”
A and I! A and I! You can’t say that word! And that Y! That’s bad as well! Oh, I’m a mess, Jack.
It’s all such a mess!” She sits down on the wet grass.

The two cops walk up to her, the first a bit of a bull, and he pulls the cuffs from his gun belt.
“Down! Down! On the grass! Damn it, Miss! On the grass! No, no! Hands! Hands! I want hands! Show both hands! Now crawl to me! Hands on the grass! Now crawl!” Jack got flat on the grass as well.

“But why?” asks Jill.

“I’m a cop! Cop asks for the crawl, ya do the crawl.
Crawl!”
“Such a bunch of laws.
” She yanks at her hands, and puts her palms flat on the wet grass.
She starts to crawl.
“But it wasn’t theft, was it?” She shifts her arm just a bit and asks the cop, “Am I not still just a kid?”
“‘Am I not?’ Did you just say ‘am I not?’ That’s how we talk now, is it? Am I not? Am I not? Ray, jot that down, will ya? ‘Am I not’ ….
Ya’ll from this town? Ya got I.
D.
? No I.
D.
? Ray, jot that down! No I.
D.

“But I am a kid.
Am I not, sir, still just a kid?”
“Don’t talk, Miss.
It’s all up to a court of law … if we do try ya.

“O-U! O-U! Oh, no! We can’t do that.

“Not oh me, Miss.

“Such a bunch of laws! Jack, Jack, help me.
This is such a mess!” Jack stirs, hands on the grass.

“I know, Jill.
” He sighs.

A click of the cuffs.
A push to the car.
The Big Fetch? No, not this trip.
What then? Oh, you know.
Perp Walk.
Long days … dark nights.
Ya get to miss Ma … and miss Pa, but you’ll be O.
K.

Why? Well, why not? Ohhh, got rights … right?
Well, yes.
But for now … lock her up, lock him up, lock them both up.

Moral of the story: If you are apprehended for misappropriating a container of aqueous solution, or, God forbid, swimming in it, do not try to answer inquiries in monosyllables of one vowel each lest you be accused of being Anglo-Saxon or some other religious denomination that has been ruled to be deleterious to the well-being of a democratic state.


Here is a story with many short paragraphs and many one vowel words.

Enjoy.

— —
He: I want a kiss.

She: No!
He: Why not?
 She: Bill wants me to wed him.

He: So what?
She: My mom’s in the hall.

He: So what?
She: Dad’s with mom.

He: So what?
She: My Dad will get cross.

He: So what?
She: My Dad’s got a gun and he’s a top shot.

He’s known to hit a rat’s chin from 9 yards.

He: So wh.
.
.
Oh my! It’s past 10 PM.

I must go.
Right now.

So long.

Don’t call me from now on.


No child's play this, let me tell right off.
Still, now that I'm on it, I think I can as well try and do what I had set my mind to do.
But what we must first do is to put down a list of words that do not get in the way and mar my work.
With the help of that set, and a few new words, we can link them all up in such a way to stitch a full blown string, that will pass the test.

Me.
.
.
.
.
now I want to stretch.


Yes I can.
Is this one?


Yes, in fact, it’s not that hard.
If a mind is put to the task, any job can be set in full swing.
I think that if the task was to plan a blurb with a few norms, it might be hard.

(My elementary school teacher said a paragraph can be as small as 3 sentences.
This is probably the first time I’ve ever written so little…) :)

Updated: 11.06.2019 — 5:24 pm

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