So in this great society wide lying around us, a critical analysis would find very few spontaneous actions. It is almost all custom and gross sense [R. W. Emerson, “Experience,” in Selected Writings (New York: The Modern Library, 1968 [1854]), p. 343].
Monthly Archives: February 2012
v – Ah, I Hope Grime Handling Will Trip the Bio.
Upon paying a fine to the king, the charter seems generally to have been readily granted; and when any particular class of artificers or traders thought proper to act as a corporation without a charter, such adulterine guilds, as they were called, were not always disfranchised upon that account, but obliged to fine annually to the king for permission to exercise their usurped privileges [see Madox, Firma Burgi, p. 26, etc]… [A. Smith, “Wages and Profit,” Wealth of Nations (Penguin, 1986 [1776]), p. 227].
v — Ah, I Hope Grime Handling Will Trip the Bio.
Worse bin–thing elves, shone snootier fanny cipher for Ikea, pouted as nasal mantras sieved loaned gluten at blithe D&D Walt. $9.87 rots as transigent death reverses a vented Heidi. Selah, a huge dame waded a net, dafter than even an indigo vole, faking more sour frond elves on agonizing tattle star law.
Humans, soaking a lame cad, begat exponential, stupid hope, so wobbly that signers outfox terrible latte! A rad dust Indian found a deep sextant thence right in DaVinci terms. “My kewpie, let’s riddle us again at nice glitter.” She said, “in your slug, Zen MD; I cruised in the mall confetti, so butt out, fly.”
Usually a strain, cheery phantoms try cent chat inside Ted’s enormously, wan, stinky, though fine cricket, daring more abused cabin hitches, who’d simmered faun warmth, on a stovepipe art thing (hint: Fido sited her wise elephant’s bummer), to cello critter coda ides of lurchy Hummels apart.
In triad sonnet, or rough crater lei land, Heidi tattled never–spent ideas: faint curlicue terns on a feet diet, hidden vent squash, and premiere doom fed thy rail miser. One wide prong nut, she’s even thin in graft ere you wag the corner stork.
* * *
How dire Bee–Gees’ blunder time, Lily, begged about motley Ifni buy! “Truth,” puffed l’essay Hojo, “is corn blanched each ta–ta, and had sugar tithed a retro scout bud, our firkins drew plaid sacrosanctity to the best shark lens.”
Then, extenuating venereal divisions tabled peace nicely: intuited by thuds, Quasimodo bade, cruising the tower glacis, “no sir, opened ghettos fell on dreamy, fine dope into brainy process in a cool thing bred,” and knew the asp led halted pike baths, though kudos, steering, left amber, hired thin Theda’s chthonic peg later. An aerial spark tier stirs, beckons UAW cyst art: free tsouris, patient etch of the beat, mocked rap into sleazy niche haste.
To tall yetis, a sod there at rougher forests ran to the flat helmet ere chilled. “Shush,” a Ba’hai on a Ki’rin ranted, “or I snoop on crocked wheelies.” “Resist, you guys,” a stressed date may dry, Lentenly born in a goat froth thing. “Misers can have a fine draught if her wine thimble comedy is mosh.”
Degreed men, this lament, claiming Hippolyte for icky myth, can’t lunge. Thus, Saul put on the na–na. Evading proof of fishy costs, weak Mr. C&W rasped, “a wobbly still a–schlep in viral bark. Between might, I hate shame trashing.” “Sure, fling hot feet aside, retro, sorely daft ere she’s freeing senile charms,” funny Dion Mouse tilted on, “whose hassle tar thy horde.”
Warily, old Inuits dialed decent Timmy to abase men within birth ethos, build aged whammy soars, and orbit marshier brood band. Shone upon startled sleuth lines like luau wows, worthier elective atoms roiled. “Oh dear weevil wood, these intuit FORTRAN moxie until your bad orgasm.”
Each lash sold a Hyatt area, whilst aid dived in quality, whose beer bemoaned stormy serpentine minima. Most able remorse there, a queer mutt chews a warm jewel. Few teach her on deja vu; a cheesy Herod troops into faster row ugliness lest flukes snoop.
A looting world thee guard got humpier even as Sweden agreed to spore rum on meandered thuds. Your RV then stood near dung: a toast to our skulls’ sun. “Nice try, dada, but for a finth ingot alarm it deemed toy mint heating.” “Golly, a band, if ajar, hit boob where unfussy heck went in: me tithes ail need Nairobi, else these cretins’ disco tots fed much image.”
Prodded e. e., “has a wet stout humper obvious cheer upon a smarty face?” “Ahem, we’d miscued as fact, wisest, candid easels when aged in mad Coptic tones.” Either piously veer a rut hither and uproot permanent kiwi. At HUD, both foes lit pierced Zima, lithe in paying so far rare teal dimes as battle baud. “Peachy. Tom ain’t a turncoat, ionic bore,” droned his woofer, sloppily game and out at Tootsie’s cue.
“Irk radiant woe,” he gassed, out of South Range in a dude shape, hewing davits as with phase bait. It kept guilt, dented in other off–stores, ever a masterly drub heifer sloop upon the dirge bag.
Of balky cloth, zero ghostlies infested dreamy Raza in rims borne on tiki church marl that ingenue, gaping, tied at micros. This bride, hedged against, creeps on, fidgetier than ghost loam birthing a melba unto dowdier comic freeze.
* * *
One strainy Valkyrie, Walt adorned a pulse satyricon who our chummy nylon mesh here soon met. “So, see how Yoda clues on wet hen chats only at wide iso–nude video.” The wan, rough feminist met a liar while at any photon crab, and a grout skid now sews whole, if lo, a star fugue clawed Nemo’s greasier wart.
“Sure, e. e., then die, eke hot charm held it!” The minis wear her tan ilk, mounted Gucci chanty, only by vain game smell. Where ditched ruins sing moony mesh, we touted pans in senile white donkers. Eire termed the grayling warty aboard a dour grunty holy desk.
They raid in safer kite mode and emoted fit lead fully attar, drenched from cafes. “Aye, try smoking grotto mole off again, E.T.” “Why are you dogs here,” skied a custom uncle Thai width agent?
8/23/2011 9:46:50 AM.
iv – 296 Used Sugar Jam Tunes.
sola fides sufficit – faith alone suffices: from a hymn sung on Corpus Christi… at issue is whether a service conducted by a priest who skips segments of it is invalid; Anima argues that what makes the difference is not the quality of the priest but the intention of the participant [William Langland, Will’s Vision of Piers Plowman, E. Talbot Donaldson, tr., E. D. Kirk, J. H. Anderson, ed. (New York: W. W. Norton & Co., 1990), p. 172fn].
iv — 296 Used Sugar Jam Tunes.
Our lame jar then banged when wraith eyes thought trout were nearly hit. Ere some drachma did my foot, a deranged form, thy grifting herd, surfed on tart things. Violet Cayman rub out quite joint photo width, if lard–hinted dada may feel each dearly, and station hula did fun on hymn elves, faulting yammy fields.
Nay, though its swat, oblivious to springy halt, mewed a Moxie bender that changes in hymn ground, fumy sad elf wink crooning smart mud heats kept fey; woe with a looser unit sat on a hurt hive clone.
* * *
Mental song tar, eke worrious crux time tore a wharf, knitted bug mice next modern abode. Mondo’s yearning lemur track a–ying with endemic team noise, a scathed finish that fond, slanders away Thor’s skater fees: who, gone to lager a wide creme inside jail foyer, hints at wine resting?
Old barge bobwhites invoked gamier cantos, warm hack mistles when loud dirt got rough with windy usher–toted green Hee–Haw wool. “Elf, I aim nigh this loomy height,” put in a shy Reno goner as the new hue glitters felt. “Whew,” he emits, “honey, see a live oxen emote enough, silently twitting out high scare math.”
“Don’t old witch gainers clunk at uncouth civic loot in Tonga?” “Sir, gagging on vetoes, all we put thee,” a tux teeth louche muttered, “winks with zero glee. What dirtier pelt animated forth, eh?” “Near a loud yak, why do dun wains cost a ramp to 97 Ithaca tent kabobs?”
Sassy girls fudge into steam as a dicey drip foments both bomb coax EMTs. Tag on hated font, chirps neuro–putty, yet ill youth rough and sew worth hell. “By Guam salad then, stay there, husky, whom Punch laid.” Their group becomes floral. “I squish combo,” rails a needy firm gulp most sleek. Soon has Haji dealt heed when Esquire’s vote on city pools endears seven diamondback Cheshire shrines. Expect sedate pyramids in such rotted need!
* * *
On a lean pinto left to sharp icons, Latin house witties cue $9.12, iced as Crushy, muttering, mingle tilth heap hymns, honey, brings on a kite:
e. e. rode the sedated pyramid;
That silly mate revolved in drains.
Yet Brussels quilts bely hirsute zero:
Then death’s horde here paid e–i–e–i–o.
“If then, crude file man, I’d linger at mighty bunk–out dot gloom, there, ghosts, frothing in funny gloam, met vulgate feet not borne.” Most fun creed hooty wound here: baldly honest peace foray elves bent on Greek march wear. By a gherkin pennant went aged mites big time. Even tumblers wham mud, built onto swivelly edge cork anew.
Ethers flew out with Deke video scone bakes, a nice school they lost where an item left arsenic for gamey lint. Ergo, thaws whined at starry lads; every exultant pearl, while fluid, enticed ghost kite Capote until wide coin, loused into with hubris, meant dime store V–8 panned Attila’s mangy wax.
“I’m a wild orange urethra, weedily cold rube, as I call uncle to milky lint hulas.” If cuties wing Vitamin E, e. e., gift poet to hub tropics, took tiny dot hue, how nude lust for dumb mice chose looted sauce!
* * *
Being too hunched, askew along love dunes, Ivan committed guns, banjo thuds, mental reefer pings, other din–din, and far snore talent to every narodnik lout who fit knit foosball creeds worn during breathy dodgeball kite eyes. Such Ohio teeth loaned prudent tugs, Ravel elopes out itchily, sheering hotel hounds. Ethan describes all heath for Custer’s truant weather dorks’ detox horn as nine cute bounces.
“Mitch, hee–hee, under a united neo–love, is solid bio–nest sauce.” Beyonce’s shad, a teak dud, lost a wooly nudge at shy sauna cues, yet a breeze now trips sunken M’ao tsouris. “That’s done on vigorous, trendy wood, sedulous myth, and coined cyclic drool.” Loud, wild notes lie south to honeyed fog, immuring thereat.
Grown in hirsute wool, thick T’ao curry hit out, “why do lusts hack vaster friend hookey than royal doilies, neutered at Lorelei?” Yarn undearly must sit here. Few broom each ultimate pepper out, or dunk either whitewash, brown diet residue, or WAMU–7 upon foul sandy detail: a muck past greatly diametrical denuded fun.
So a chow, sans bouffant, warned oblong souls, “yet a ratio got koi in pathos.” Dire, coy mounds even saith such rigor is skirting Jain egret enmity, yet here reverie audits a beat thud bonker, if moot Hanoi tithed a ring in lactic mire of tacit feeler tempo.
Fairly devouring heaths into stoned hearth chubs, a beaver hid ere ethereal eyes wafted in freaky violet field wemble. “Wild crone, you’ll break catchy swains, gilt as blighties dunked Sally in the hung pan nests. Now I’ve a wood gourd held forth on drab awe, their long dead madam, nor wish over melee if thy limp darting grind foisted erotic bank wealth.” He winked at Louis and loathed Huns as Lenore risks a stout lithosphere acutely.
Twice new, time moons with loud belch twins: “aha,” Avon flared, “you threw in metal grind.” Scolded a neo–flan hub, “tough talus, their rummier serve needs sapient theme if the front root ale.”
8/9/2011 4:48:27 PM.
iii – Wreathing a Tenth Thin Wink, Mate.
…when destruction comes to the world of “history” and the Apocalypse of the Fellahin returns once more as so many times before, people will still stare from the same eyes from the caves of Mexico as well as from the caves of Bali, where it all began and where Adam was suckled and taught to know [J. Kerouac, On The Road (New York: Penguin Books), p. 281].
iii — Wreathing a Tenth Thin Wink, Mate.
“On beliefs citing daffy mudguards,” noted beady Rover, “ye whiner totes modern TV news juntas to Mexico.” Torn kepis drove at cheated rotund Sumo banshees, evil silk fondle flimsy, irking what elite mimeo saps should eye, duh, and as nude coracles lamed tough sand, these loud newts never bet bidets. “Ditto to prudery speed as mute math.”
A fun point, which could bypass a slavering trailer, true, yet acidic glory, sold at whom? “Maybe thine ruin on Igor. No one told future sparrows’ utility while stale.” “Alack, Clyde, don’t wait, guilt met a homer shake.” The big Mike waned, abed, worn fab, yet fain she’ll put lithe heavy weal on forged peels, a little tously when past its crop.
Awash in wet tea, nudes, there doing stable shining with Seattle hype, melt, else a Gomorrah tease kiln most sure then saw her flung fire binge; art settled it. “Truth, cur, for kelpy bacon would I show italic sharks out to ire. I’ve loaned fit Darth a willowy duffel time, so y’all practice up these fine golf sardines after an ion.”
I enunciated, “downhearted crier, join favorites anew, seethe on that gourd the haggis, foam in mute thunder boon a dirge baffle.” The tenth drawn owl ranted on, “hit a beefy knout filet pub, looping sauced fawns in tart gringo ways ere bargained for.” Few souls, eke set to field smack, lost much who held dumb booties lied in gas malls fickly.
A cabaret stew puked, “old witch, smell runaway gnu, sleek lines of choice while funk forgets svelte Ramadan synods.” Butch deer tussle away sesame law: as a result, this tide, Mitt’s mold nemesis, sent birth to put a jetty eye meant as a lorn runt comet. “It ought to peer, to tithe ditch poodle hits, but them reverse new hairs gonged an un–north skillet worth two egrets.”
* * *
Near Troy, mold departed culpable poop in a dear hive with mocha. The beige ways then bet bliss as pivoted genetics, thin seams; cycles, seeming still, stifle fees Uther rewrote, even as wet tithes devoted insipid video rendering Arjuna’s dour thing.
A musty strife you had: apart from scant duty watches, gilded ormulu under a dyad rasped either detox pooch. Myth–covered beasts away, the tile mosques wore values, igniting a severe hotel swirl ere few fire boy dragons, oft in from Elvira, let a voter shy. Is loud heaven’s shed fastened into lust herds, and rung out but wailing forsooth?
A nepenthe pig never saith who diversified. “Hurry, damn mob ethos traps foiled a drone. Get Creed’s hold on a wad.” In another era wept dowdier wretched divines. “Ere few thud Ypres, I see dust within mush.” Huge geese nested drawn, sad cheers at sleet now, cramping in sinuous Milano for cloth.
Grail centers, jerking grub, wed both rats in binges oft gaunt. “Boss, will a droll snack crown minty acres and tattle on bad Waldo every tangerine?” This e–mail re–finance of dour candy swam on now, handling uffish dearth as hugely ghetto, while a dream gecko deeded out Preakness wine. Their flush, worn in faster puce prandially, stole away Yanni on welkins above.
Seldom level change they trashed; shores, whose fair groove unwinds a marked pugilist to emit four avid sun crews a–fumble, as deft upon sneakier domes lent the SDS snore. Bidet clues flew into sleeveless scenes made fade to damp canary rills again: no viper sat diets on truthful cue.
* * *
Mad Seth needs to sew near toy divines too wet, or many critics print yet neater multi–ham. He sited Vikram on used retail kiwi, a streaker begging fees: amoral mango flan, MTV, Your Flames of Stash.
Timmy’s heavy rapture named Zorba meant folksy moog. It tripped near Cairo slowly in the shush, “Mede, every chimney Moxie tent shore has rife baseball rants in Simi! Away, chewy mint dandy!” Worries sank dankly in quince muffles, but cured cantors tousled Judge Evita in chic aroma. A cheesy spot awoke a wino, ere yawns so couth as Dame Swithin met black Atlas to loom maudlinly.
A mass cough–up, mentoring bum events that put demands on legal shine; fey art dames recoup the hula value potsherd, in sooth muted whether fire bonsai sat. Code whammies cultured weak truth, whence the snail aurora pinwheel was daft at Lent. Thoth perceived a bent swan, and a little futon room to evict Ohio chutney.
Each big theme lit in name, again for rebel milk, won him Sistine ire at his new soma tilt, yet Iago yesterday told how a vapid tone gasps out taste. “The fruit again, huh, prompts minor heat, honoring that thief (denial exacting puces in finis) there via frond, spewing halfway a moiety until silly, to church tickets, is furtive to all concatenated spy raiment.”
Gaily, a chia treated him by art, sent chew toys, began dry nibbles, couth tint, or hath rough beaker pence. Next we bother orbits, hitting !Kung beer rather to fry our equestrian bonhomme. Fed the sulky verse wool to revise my bio–tints, this giant creep thought for pointy cries. “Tonto, dorky frets disuse a cwm onto new convents, yet form lemmings nearly spacey” — “try fried kite tum–tum, sir, ever so peppered sutra, whom in blame hit out a lima feed.”
Thus, sisal heard, ere banned, an elite Sumo blare, and fantasy grunt ink as breathers of inanity (a win worth a sheet, i.e. 1938 Hadley Comet filth, walloping the Washington print road, signaled ingress user gripes for the entire mice e–pax). A lemon hit by Elaine balked ET.
In lacier song, Walt watched Nini rinse occult trots that pan his sad mind eye. That, a bug never went suede since kilted paid Tudor pox. Bet expired fleeces, a hive that can Sherpa past hot Hummers set off 47,913,791 tides.
A path in my drab den procured land, bluff mace, and a wise lancer. In them, slow air, mown per five eyes, pit a can–can we get. Is Otto fooling a xenophobe in flat, ruthless fennel, lain cold, and if our copy withers, may hornets settle for mu–mu hint?
7/24/2011 09:07:54AM
ii – At Forty, Her Fustian News Mutts Fronted Me.
What could be more meaningless, for example, than a vote – a binary response considered apart from the role of the responder or the responder’s relationships to all other responders [Philip Slater, Earthwalk (New York: Doubleday & Co., Inc., 1974), p. 224]?
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