The babbelers with their thangas vain have been (confusium hold them!) they were and went; thigging thugs were and houhnhymn songtoms were and comely norgels were and pollyfool fiansees. Menn have thawed, clerks have surssurhummed, the blond has sought of the brune: Elsekiss thou may, mean Kerry piggy?: and the duncledames have countered with the hellish fellows: Who ails tongue coddeau, aspace of dumbillsilly? And they fell upong one another: and themselves they have fallen. And still nowanights and by nights of yore do all bold floras of the field to their shyfaun lovers say only: Cull me ere I wilt to thee!: and, but a little later: Pluck me whilst I blush! Well may they wilt, marry, and profusedly blush, be troth! For that saying is as old as the howitts. Lave a whale a while in a whillbarrow (isn't it the truath I'm tallin ye?) to have fins and flippers that shimmy and shake. Tim Timmycan timped hir, tampting Tam. Fleppety! Flippety! Fleapow!
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Comments (8)
agitprop
said:
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Yeah, managed "A Portrait of the Artist..." alright, but fucken "Finnian's Wake" ? Fuuuuck! My headv still fucken hurts! |
Ricardovitz
said:
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cha hollerin' bout Ricky? Yer ain't me. I prolly took the late train and came in on the caboose but Ricky sures can tell redneck from some kind of nigger-code or Ayrabic. Ricky's brain be a bit smaller now buts it be fully accessorized! Yer kin know these things when yer gits t'bein a ward of the nanny-state 'n gits yer brain fixed. What'd Ricky jist say? He's nutty as a squirrel's breakfast! |
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