a third rate, fourth place, tenuous at best, unabridged yet oft-truncated collection of calumny & travails from the last manfish standing, husophonic orator & chronic fumbler, his nipples (minus 3), Crank Sturgeon
Wednesday, July 20, 2011
ol' noggin
Ollie forth and the nodding britches, a sung-sow of well-sired archetype had the morning warmed with a small stint on branches, weeds, and that pinch of lavender that'd make a sneeze or three happen on the glow stance. Two forks and with a thrust of sabered pillow-wide torque (well sensed and rested with heeds on flying pines and signage of sage profit or visage professing on fitted seams in stage prophet and sheen heeding finery, fine-fine, fine-fine), that would do you right, for a minor blaze and aphasia wager. The tongues and tonnage insinuated, via pinks and salmony brilliance twill, that cold and neatly tucked quill of age-old penman, and the hired hands used for underlying embedded code or sheeting to act as a crush or riverbed (gone dry after aptitude summer's worth led to spring break college disaster), and these acted as septic fields, or once in a felted wheel could feel-down the a priori notice (stamped or embalmed) of rain's plying-for and/protean teen drainage dreams on-a-realm-of scorn or ass porn or the corn of cream and milk vices (spun out like a sixties' car wreck, seventies' star sky, eighties' ol' noggin, or the rim-ride of other lux: these unheeded modem cultures that have high-watered the mine never since). Nevertheless, it took none to dig or make twits of the "it's", and unaffordable apostrophes had the beaches lie blank while the wee opp's and opportune possessives had the middle rung up-tangled (in a high clef range nameable to an E, C, diminishing splice), all the while sending the ropes: captain-types (you know the litmus), and cutlass supremely (we did on more of "its"), but lastly labored (it was a heat to peel bridges from the ruse of bruises and contusions), the real stuff was the lens of lessons and hi-five teats, so nice to meat, and handled genteel with a race to the finals; this parred parry with the spit-comes and budding warble (or parable burble) of mispronouncing the baker's halt and calf dozer, at least thirteenth avenue, on the avenge or revere, when a ted or credible bead would try its tin for severing size and make vacant where the duds once had cocoa.
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