A small colonial (for Filthy Turd)
Dearest Giddy Sludge and Heath.
A requiem for some tazers in your deep deep pockets! A challenge to pry your rapier botox flectum, a marriage disparage of yours and mine uncouthe and accoutrement meister breem! We'll bite the bit together, say you! tell the old mare to ride whoa-brides and bridle their own paps of wrapped-snappy hosiery, dragoons and goonkids all the ilk, dispensing with armageddon hops and chortles under skirts while we waste waylays and layline bearings at their (or his-her) most-glowing loaved child-at-work, tiding tweed tediums with flavor slacks, rectangle basters, low lying glowing frustrated pics of desnudes lusion hall lexicon local one eighties. Men of dumps and ladles of rote, girlish nides and well-do-over lapsing forebear after-cues, sissel-bound in copperish veneer rinses, the old blames and craned necks (portals approximax; apropos to pennies-on-tandemnic zaire); man the screams: SAND! HEFT! Left over to rasp the grape-ish moon, manned over left king total tease kaas and caesar creases, returning to test the rotunda meme: CHOLL! KEIFER! Wrent hisses and pie piss plenties, winces and wendies and will-do-me's and won'tcha gotcha can-can pee and ply in red tasted kneeds, wellspring hoff and planted plier joles and bowels jeering creoles and protestant proto-serum simplish plump. My merry Dear Giddy. Today we revolt and rescind. Tomorrow, we'll dine in fresh fresco, papel tare weights and shaman baubles babel wing proot. Let the dust settle. Let the nettles birches beast friezes and lope their own dires with chiaroscuros wrosted with welp wrestling tamper tads of gone-gropie billfold foak nodes. Damn them to hects, the lot! Make babes from brim and tease the tassels with well wrought hue! Jove, his jib was merry, like yours, hers, and my deepest deepling respite.
We'll task together, friend.
A requiem for some tazers in your deep deep pockets! A challenge to pry your rapier botox flectum, a marriage disparage of yours and mine uncouthe and accoutrement meister breem! We'll bite the bit together, say you! tell the old mare to ride whoa-brides and bridle their own paps of wrapped-snappy hosiery, dragoons and goonkids all the ilk, dispensing with armageddon hops and chortles under skirts while we waste waylays and layline bearings at their (or his-her) most-glowing loaved child-at-work, tiding tweed tediums with flavor slacks, rectangle basters, low lying glowing frustrated pics of desnudes lusion hall lexicon local one eighties. Men of dumps and ladles of rote, girlish nides and well-do-over lapsing forebear after-cues, sissel-bound in copperish veneer rinses, the old blames and craned necks (portals approximax; apropos to pennies-on-tandemnic zaire); man the screams: SAND! HEFT! Left over to rasp the grape-ish moon, manned over left king total tease kaas and caesar creases, returning to test the rotunda meme: CHOLL! KEIFER! Wrent hisses and pie piss plenties, winces and wendies and will-do-me's and won'tcha gotcha can-can pee and ply in red tasted kneeds, wellspring hoff and planted plier joles and bowels jeering creoles and protestant proto-serum simplish plump. My merry Dear Giddy. Today we revolt and rescind. Tomorrow, we'll dine in fresh fresco, papel tare weights and shaman baubles babel wing proot. Let the dust settle. Let the nettles birches beast friezes and lope their own dires with chiaroscuros wrosted with welp wrestling tamper tads of gone-gropie billfold foak nodes. Damn them to hects, the lot! Make babes from brim and tease the tassels with well wrought hue! Jove, his jib was merry, like yours, hers, and my deepest deepling respite.
We'll task together, friend.
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