It doesn't seem to be.
When a poor slob like myself finishes their manuscript, they send query letters out to agents who deal in post-apocalyptic teen gore-romance, or whatever. Those three paragraphs are what lead that letter.
Dear Mr. Johnnie Rico
Boy and dog have bad times in the apocalypse. Girls are cool.
Girls and boys and dogs have no fun in the apocalypse. I'm hungry. That cannibal is looking at me funny.
Boy and girl say, "Hey, half of us are dead and we're still hungry." Mean man says, "Go swim 90 miles."
Drinking Hotsauce is complete at 344, 000 words and is completely unpublishable.
I lover yer blawg. Thank you for your consideration,
pathetic house ape
But the trick is making it actually good. I've fished it around. We'll see what my critters say.