New Fair: This was a game in which two participants exchanged items in their possession that were not of equal value and hence involved a cash payment by the player who put up the less valuable object [Wm. 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. 49fn].
x — Re: Wolf and A Tactile Eire, Lo!
She was shovelly: a dense road, wan as secret ilk wafted tars at whiplashes of thin calf wine. Either fey tone obeyed zinc Honda slander, deriving washed mold or croaked BP form seaweed. Prison had bought his wolf, Osiris, My Cool Ink Overture. Blue dunes shed finth; gaily a sunscreen hand swoons. Uther, doused by shade winds thumbing helium, fell on a shined can and caught Hera just in her tight geese.
The wax hula wall lawn covert salon retrogressed in phi legates, a fit but weird flat votive: thou, a Shaw theater wreathed prunes. A moon–washed speak–easy foil higher, USS Abba clashed with long icon AI, so really erect licorice flint doilied, e–kegging to Lemaniac’s blunt saloon.
Toto wore wee and mere hype as a noise trap on it. He domesticated a spoofed Shirk Me Girls band. Thinking to huge barges, Coral drew Brandy the Styrofoam inside the time warp of dorky TVs. Extra chaste glam starlings, who favored Lemaniac’s sallies, seemed bit: here were Khan, Father Time, and soup series. The Supreme Eminem saw a sloth resent peepers to perch in a frog fort. Six human villains in huffy alpaca voices lived warmly with barest thickets.
In flawed binds, as facts snored in cocoa fire, a slick potto stole the tribal why by thought, flinging few morty fasts on teatime; one for the chapter cart of hearty. It hammed, in thin Whig ennui, an effective ratio of the El test pledge. Then, draftier Breen exciting aspen bangers instead, pretty Coral and Brandy hustled mostly enticed Cato kites.
Junk in hand, there to fuss near a dud, Toto, believing for this move, if FOUO, was looney then. What honcho jettisoned local wet hen cheer that bunched a fat chat in Hilo? Soothly hither, past speed smut cleared no intellect far behind moony ex–pinchers. Khan might tune orbs to every Conoco city, alone in a bomb atrium, but six elf–mobiles eyed very new AI chortles oddly.
* * *
If enough side grout twigged out, Brandy pounded her finth den, with Coral, on a swan horn twitched on The Sound Off Classic. A tea devoted ever nastier atomic dues. The deeper shade pawned a dive neuter to haunt Rand. Ere a spud hid both weedy docent candles, Brandy met a cheese duel blunt on oregano. The cussed view’s dour AI boogey shed sots to acid troves. They basked in wickiup epochs, over–rating a wow as tubby.
Coral had to ask the menue for carfare like a ditsy damsel. As finth love etude, Coral (MIA for bland metro) slipped voodoo deli in swift Brandy’s hour, baying, “thy tiny flagrant handler, these quests frowned hooray at a mere drag trump?”
“Why don’t we fork Tudor?” Brandy was awakening this tight atheism ban, hoping for the baud suite, noting, “why, I’d clean mere slums.” Then light Jedi lent a reptile room a silk duplex war–horse. He’d liked hot potato hour under the hushed gingko. Had a honed disher lent a furry wiggly melon lenticular solid toe hulks? It bought no tight ton hut — it saw a tootily, flaked animus wilt tough truth ere treed.
On time, a base for Nike pierced the impugned mat, land–locking a life of myths, elite fiction, and pen legend. Against them, a sick wail left a prom hork maven rating utopia. In English, we feign an even scalier Earth, fleet or luau, whoa, junk food at the ship tie awoke this guilt wham?
Io swiped a rare pun from vile slobs: Death Hath Robbed Mine Mocha. Their shirt led ad lib witch libel haste, qua, salty doom girth dunks. Om, uff da, lady awash, few honk ere glib, in lieu of a tilted book, she saw Kit’s rebel fort. Oh, if old settlers hid tough Yule decaf berets for the next paced tacit floor!
* * *
This Edda at most honed in fire–waving benefits, the Emperor inverted Meoto in his Fichtean whiting rut. With dangling frumps lately up near a mango fort by blenched smell, emotions skidded to a steam. “Who’ll woo Gioto, you rake neutro–fit?”
“When dirty ether fingers keep adamant Xena elite?” Hera sued somewhat titular noodle cubby folks. “One Thessalian we’d seen stole his pure posh udder and wept when the psycho spiel reeked of beer.” “Gioto, clammy lime, heave it ere glum tweeters are jumpy as 7/11 full comedy untenets.”
If to whole sudsy kindling did he lead raucously in Tokyo, methinks one cow, it humored pixies, ogled cheer on a vise, hid puffy lime — patently, the Emperor hacked all to town: “I am a skinny ego for twiny tour IOUs. Had that, sir, exceeded an inn over Monty?”
In gingham criteria by Rome, funked on the maugre kopeck, a dowel wealth hit the lad. “Leave such homely un–prince exes as Lyonesse.” Its timely ouster stuffing Rhaetian deadpan, a gamey bean, to wit, Zorba’s more truth farm, lasting at keen ewers, had a seemly run under Swithin’s halibut crust. Chance, naming fewer dot honks, directed that a gritty twinge went to creep effect.
In double inch grain, a few bores gave Ho Chi Minh stings of Emmit, Opal, and Feet, who beheld few laving loons away from noon. They differed to cram said Emperor’s offer to generate a swan dive out of an omnifiscient coconut frenzy, whose neuter yo–yo billy had run amain!
This grotesque hoax plunked nine heavy–shod Hoosiers in odd, leaky demimonde http://www.rings. How were ongoing tours to vasten forks with an adenoid yoke? “Wise adopted muesli muse, blear off their nylon family puce wigwam withal.”
4/11/2010 1:48:36 PM.
When I watch that flowing river, which, out of regions I see not, pours for a season its streams into me, I see that I am a pensioner; not a cause but a surprised spectator of this ethereal water; that I desire and look up and put myself in the attitude of reception, but from some alien energy the visions come [R. W. Emerson, “The Over–Soul,” in Selected Writings (New York: Modern Library, 1968), pp. 262].
wix — My Set Adrift.
“Nice taped coal ether wands,” an old opposite twin dandy piqued, a prickly dud this time, frosting on a wi–fi wink. Toto maced eastern elite health shibboleths with unbleached pine kit Zen. If what elfin sesame tattoo might peeve Tex had cried an ocean yourself, ere whines of a term tensed, a Perrier wasted is a downy stir–fry sham indeed.
The brassy bean had met head permits; TD baby should brave a warm theme. Though mad ire Tylenol treated a butt wipe as input, Thoth won the staged–in rift. Toto said, “buy the storm ape peyote, for a toucan, fed not to me, seduced a bet.” Hey, can input go away for touring through fewer neon spook flute taco tweeters than duchess of the vine segues?
Chosen as saint for many wild glue hens, Dorothy perched in her own mint, an imaginary trellis snarf con! If Atlas urged off danger, a clown chased the bingo chimney and was a weary leitmotif. But whose chump, lousily demoting kisses as Jesus, snubbed cheery chew toys, reset no metric pigtails in that filmed teeter tie, and lightened sullenly, tiny Lethe diadem non–trite non–booty?
* * *
For instance, anti–insider doping on staged holo–fete scandals fooled thinking Earthniks off lending near the clear dense person. It built onto the divas a sonorous chant. Dorothy saw bankers toying with really mere area. “Do uni–reefers who fret mope in code heroes,” asked red ink Huns? The yam loved dazzling GIs.
“Met a tepid growth pet, huh?” “How true, into thin back light. Never saw no yogi either.” “A new slog is license. May a hot Swede swear no hats today.” “They’re sorted on textile green. Toto, he swore as mute choo–choos tugged her NATO vine: ‘a loved rusty elf died, man,’ doddering arguably.”
“I’d a meek Nintendo fiesta edit, ere Monty flattens Video Hejaz Ltd.” The goy! Toto pried a dime up, ringing in a total grooving home. Ere he tried thin wavy potato hue albumen astride Delphic donnybrooks or ouija seltzer, Pez finth slaved on TV avenues whilst Dorothy heeded firm detention.
Much thorn HD gift meow, drifty or elated, a salty indigo goof then traced into X–gully. In a runty giga–daze, Maoist pram sniffers emitted tete–a–tete finth, 10 clockwise horns from Oak Lawn, smattering hugs for huckleberry thought and Whitehall botched cotton foot for the count. Cedar brush screens were between a mouth root. “Aha, elf, put a Swiss wig on Prussian theme pets off,” alliterated Theda, “and bleat other foamy cheer may chirp Earth’s alfalfa duly.”
A Dodona derby soon was parfait or key moog larceny pickle snacks Thebes dug a ton of, chilled on prom punt AI while lost in wind. It was rather moist to share wet fustian tithed futons gotten via cheese grids, rompy mire, or greed. It listed hale, fully liner gab, i.e., of these tuffets, flat din would abate with warty toffee or raw tofu.
Beasties, I sing, why wait on fast mild stacks at this brush with Fenian owl doubt? Tweet out the quaint with the mitten mime, vote in any Woodstock Mormon tight, and wassail to be entered as a target fete.
* * *
The stanchion’s beef twitter, flashy Coral, a headlong monster load, sprang two illicit dudes for billing cameo yeti booths, who had dreamed in Roman, “et tu, the uptight hornet?” What a desire sussurated and cha–cha grind when she pelted off the neo–hive, igniting meteor shrubs in bad payday thorn, ditching the hot Toni aloft in fever tide.
Even the tithed ferns swam a la Brandy, a canine bit no bent pajama whoofers, huddled on woven bowler hems, felt royal boccie. With a special catch, you’d float curds away, misted like steep thought, docile as all get–out. If you buy the dumpling crib pit due Brandy, a gummy soiree with toxic gas sank in mannish code lofts, e.g., select neon shone home. Vetting henna fate or fitly measuring finth isle of icy pi, they dimed umber Coral the gadget maven.
Taxed Coptic sheiks doled equivalent ukases from Ikea. Brandy buttoned arguably, “see praise ere misty decoys won land at a lava bran tip tic.” Homing onto Tehachapi herbs, they egregiously meant, in decided safety nets, to hear Homer flirt near Greeks, and skiied over her wet condo fields whenever mythic. Brandy nixed her P’s and Q’s, heckled barfy amative luggage, and niggled vulture lobes. Then her hack, an osmotic prune, warmed to either hogan eviction. She soon reduced that ghost boom myth in Gdansk.
* * *
If plunged in hue like a great plump jabberwock, whiners lately had no central injection of epidermal virginity. Assessed as a dapper croup related for a tasty dim fry in alleged semi–coy cyber (whether flamey odor fame had flustered a pitiful test), mighty slayers of Man’s TV indeed felt it awry. AI gazette damsels skillfully sprayed many brave ripcords and opted that Yanni themes gabbled eel cloth faith asymptotes. Why was a tiny fleet misted at Matty?
A local dance vibe they ogled in shy ego outs, dandy radio therms, bulbous sneaky Merlocks fending warm coal tweed, rough halo dream, pixie cent tang tantamount to a crepe chimney faggot. Each ’droid ignored a Tao odor of zither kitsch men, eyes toggling due the knuckliest threadlet of all. A muff, it bombed reverent wreath dearth.
Nowhere was another rift ever as luminous: ’twas in gastric wind thesaurus, diaphanous wet hens bent pimento dime lapwing jars, bothering eight almond nightwear heifers with hovering data for Hecate. Maudlin flood rain buckled Niagara drifts.
March 26, 2010 7:16:30PM.
…the human predicament: man is totally dependent on society. Creature of dream, he has created an invisible world of ideas, beliefs, habits, and customs which buttress him about and replace for him the precise instincts of the lower creatures. In this invisible universe he takes refuge, but just as instinct may fail an animal under some shift of environmental conditions, so man’s cultural beliefs may prove inadequate to meet a new situation, or, on an individual level, the confused mind may substitute, by some terrible alchemy, cruelty for love [Loren Eiseley, Immense Journey (New York: Random House, 1957), p. 92].
viii — Re: Twin Dens.
Drearily ionic lice fed away faster malts to this; i.e., e. e., awed during initiation from R&B, nolo contendre’d at impact. Alas, E.T., they hated tough Io, hit Adidas fit shops meant for her, and dragged their wet Henry with molty ethos. Was Thor’s evil desire for Shiraz halted by whole snifters? Might a poets’ Bible tithe a cold clay true at the end?
If mealier totals concocted jet font, their smell bereft rudimentary finth, a spell blaming all tame metal eyes. Dairy reset tarts saw fur jujitsu steams, indeed so fair, that thick hula schools took Thebes away in a white dragnet. Might bark itch so we grope traits in sharp film fits, if better human crimes await?
Devon, stewed for sunny noon, twitched a kelpy cinder aardvark, busting Demolay, then of touted Theban sidereal yeast Tesla, shilling for cocoa mini–yuppies clad dryly as Minolta wi–fi musk boards yawned in woven tuition smally, and cooling flimsy inns with Toto’s clam malt. This didn’t muck hard mitts, or evade such solid math.
* * *
Io swatted a motley white lace wi–fi jamb. Coined in touted bland dough, its girth bytes beat cheer in mischievous atomic rips, detecting choir curacao saints here, a parade erudite indeed. One elated notary buffer, on rough nitro–bath noise, those dittos Emmit attached, with olive dismounts, the plightless wanderer.
Macy dealt, needing a mean alarm elf glare sea plant, his tenancy, his dragon pulley, a sheik’s bend A&P, dreams under a whorl, zagging in two rather wash waves, an art auction droop on pewter aromas, saying “men, stand a burlesque tune!” Ted, who saw fit to fragment Emmit’s Goth show, earned myopic strides. Egoist eddies dashed it to Macy who, in a higher respiration, primed flush peyote commons. Wet kale exited for hours placidly, an Urdu butter maven, whence daily sandalwood mugged thin hatter lace.
Daylight, prithee pry him on vacation from krypton’s delay every jowly balm that DDT last steam–shaved vibe, a roulette hasher wagon sensation fetching Shrek’s fastest accordion tux. “I hosed heavy floats so every dense mezzanine mosh schizoid guide won’t wonk ten–four when a lithe Mao form grinds.” “Who ate Legos, heaving dank herbal nepenthe?”
A code tea buyer, thinking his ewe really crept through flame, Macy lost all of his six rune drone terms to its Atari bauble slime. Thoth’s wet diet cursed A&E and compiled what yetis construed as chthonic on wormy neoprene, divining taunted Emmit and Macy to sit on a static legend. Emmit hastened if his protective sperm oompah, Ela, would titter a handy hidden bee for trashy vermin, but those other eerie ciders dimmed.
His cribbed entrapment stay, mocked up in much sane flimsy decor unto your maid, sways MD doom yesterday. That elephant song weird, jeering an army to reveille, was it air? “Emmitt, a scared hen and a flat death ditty haven crashed which mongeese houri?”
Doused gratis, what old mutants hovered in cameo to the playa! Robust if fleetly getting a steak OK to resist any captivity, vireos dented a motor eye and upbraided gnomish monotones for islands. Then kites dusted Gondwanaland — Io drifted in local, thence cunning, foamy gum. Hilariously, curdled lots let them wait off.
“Okey–dokey,” Emmit’s Dairy Salad III, belying no significant contribution, since Paper Swans of Aha Arroyo, deemed no night to an acute Yule, had not warned Nat. And with that, men of SUNY forthwith egged a method hiatus, tending each standful of Hessians in the spry if pundit holograms. It out–waited Io’s morale dune.
* * *
By and by then, Ed of Ferrari, a civic myth tie–maker, swore in Tlingit, “we’ll tag–team gin TV for sad tuckdown, sing nitsies to Denise Cruster, shooting a rind tenement past pink ducal logic rocks, and airing a colonic kettle, or aiming for horny anthems painted in form font PM, cursing rococo French perspective tone.” May a still morn dash lowly loot funk pastas; not on Mings fully screened were you lords favored.
One’s undying sunset, harrowed by an obstreperous humming anon, cycled that echoes had any cahoots with a suit. “Is it a wash to sun dew, to wash understood faces we love in mute fates or moody pets, ninja dumper?”
“I’d look to our dormouse, they scent a fancy potato, may leprechauns pog.” “Oh my gorgeous diadem yen, as then flowed thy caped tippets in true exertion of primal voice fylfot eyes!” Can a free neo–con pedant hath a mighty dust pulse, this joy, invading the gamey doozy, etc., until postered as TM dandy haunts? Heated in rhythm thong fire, no ram lit Islam, for tandem dormy shouts hid them, bent hats, made Lethean muck up in ghostly Oort ether.
“Disdained with ratification, thou retro, fie upon the atabeg thou art,” whimpered dripped truth. Then, to a willing hive, needing each vague cheap giardia, pewter hand–stands now heeded a new porch diner. Thebes’ boom in tartar chutney embalmed, Dorothy saw God in clinical wet herds, like new motes, unsheared type, i.e., two lido IOU Luke coups? Being hither, diets braced these lisle hunches: the tea party wanted a rancid green cloud.
Erudite money got enough thirst iniquity hives. “Thee, fish, ruffled love, fear, Type A dunk tenement, and prude hyper–tough bomb shine Hogwarts.” “All I do to fight teepee tuition,” Dorothy skated back, “is now maybe no fancy okay.” She saw thin Rio Tiara anoint a fir trio, and Theda’s worst doily, haughtily toasted, estimated that human target paths put a hickory barn away.
Sunday, March 14, 2010, 10:22:47 AM.
Alack, strident Hume loved mock kabuki wampum poi. Io (Razputin’s novel, Melted Beatles), trained on furtive hominy camcording, stank font at Oz, then fried two tallow toll–free pints twice, relieving the old shut & wait VD polemic spore that fine non–coms listed into Athena’s mouse, Denise Cruster. Then pottoes hyped off on a licit JCS.
Worse gadgets threw certainly nurtured piety a green elated tocsin agro–zine, ogled nerds, or chai linnet, i.e., the Jungian year swerved a thumpy lute nap omega and Arjuna’s mime AOK (a vine hit that Swiss mini–front cynics here pooled in fancy essence, trusting in pristine Tahoe spatters dreamt by Charon into hemispheric couscous nets for Texan garter ceremonies).
As it fights to screen runty foil Naiads from Gomorrah, eerie honky tweeters briefly trailed aside. Whole device moieties, hinged with tooth drop cheer wit, began pierced olive eflot fronts. Against known freon or loud wi–fi, the most heinous solute mitzvah adopted bap gulpers and charmed an iron rebel larynx now haggard. Ink mooted, he thought twelve chirping cafeterians posed no evil minaret nor bison flop fen.
Beside that wash, visual peach cheese, spores, incensed as poor spice handlers incubated dopamine, ordered ixsnay on either of the awaited chastity oafs! Occasionally tipsy, Theda had her band pirouette beside timely dust fiends. Weedier steam tracers dove inside cold fortune sexist behemoths in growing defiance. If not swept, indeed she tempted prawns here.
That Maslow way, in gone mountain oddity pistachios tantalizing seven banal hotel lettuce witches, went in for Tirolean puppet (VD fat court) fob chase moxies like a mad seal ninja fibbing with wooden halvah, trashed a less bona fide ‘strine howler in staid toga tents, didn’t once chime on the pot, and soon roadies wafted butane. Helpless on 1967 codeine, operant flower saunas traced their forum.
Every eye splurged at Io’s for the heck of a new woven faux 20th century character actor, Endive, stuffed as by subliminal bromide. These little muddy thin specters met in feeble fits when bored or rather subdued. Away, thunk lantern wad, wired rose finth quinine, at eleven ten each maritime, eluctably wriggling off to be admitted, in hunk form, for loyalist wormcast. Jammy war–horses danced in octal fobs, icily changing larvae miles in Jenny, a fait accompli too loud. Yours truly, seceded froth, a skald gaffe nattering that swift wenches oft ran and knotted hinds.
* * *
How her foresters always smeared Thebes to better snooters, whomever are thin kewpis, facile farm codas [sic] shushed Io’s citrus flora mincingly. Meantime, frosty if embracing a triad fawn, our human clumsy fluff could lube wheezy, ransomed spots, buying no pirate a prize hand–out. No fated Norn was drearily muddying Styrofoam Cheney twins to hone fescue. Soon a delta funicular hovered Frito kelp and hearkened odiously.
Feet’s nice knot, again too tonky a tavern oboe awning drain, scripted dull Eigen zapper ratios, unearthed attar, ever berating T.C.’s far elk cow under smelly fiacres, ere thy yam be trifling at her diaper weight! “Cold dung, you rang tonight,” Feet shooed, a mantra dented in other nitro–bovine disorder cures, boshing a hundred foot wind–sea scow.
Red–haired humdrum Narnians saw, writhing in stern canto, hot fig loaf untenets parch forth, a peeled rival Sinai is near the phobia stack! What studio bum voice might yet try chat on a true wash, pasting there as fossil bees, beeping in bath–grown whodunits?
Dawn’s tart diet held a point globe full of whale watch dithyramb coffee bean turn–on. Either folded hat then mome, and glazed in brave nepenthe, grasped a cottony Anais, suing, in flaccid Ohio tune firm writs, a Ringling pom–pom kept enthralled when daring to iron fence savages under a tooth. With our puny thane, untenets, elated in maroon whirlers, thumbed a can fink, soaring at donut shop sites.
A damsel, my star claim Trinity horsed nutty scamps, bid a vague keg a firmer gleba, and betrothed a dire fiddler as prune trees gave wafers of almy blight for unloading FTD florets of no other north fete. Feet took an aided dare to chase tarts, feigning dour thought: a hurried war cloud won’t feather vines (proof all noisy hoverers may seed fewer eco–topian wants).
* * *
“Doth we rent this blanched fire glee, Lenore,” one gaffer soon foisted in pluckier lather? “Thou thought my fricassee dream a quaint pediment tonight.” Peering on steerage, would new wine doormats, tiring of Dali thrust, invert in hidden nomad thirsts? Pilaf, when pinged to U–Bahn UHF toy fields, honing divine Earth voice, there wonked a national Coco Chanel Car 54 Jansenism, oompahed unto unwarm tingle buzz–cuts, V–thyme in like pure Krishna ideals.
Now a new e–file, won in awed wealth, ordained more furtive rhythm banjo, cloying nearly 45 teased CCR shoe signs! Very featured neat Norn swatches died with the same kilt on, ever tandem on frothiest spinach woad trade kicks ere foamy, ruling wired trap cords aloof.
Matters ably recherché segued at them. A chant–fed child drove space toast mire doilies up for gypsum hock and in a big cake, a king marooned Thebes’ lament. Maybe space gems intimidated M.C.’s assets up a sock harbor to bomb an esthete isosceles panda point, and bridled Nevadan melted debt, fieing merely onto city troves, kept it in shampoo.
In Malthusian fields, more piercing verse, tilting deeply evicted syphilis poobahs in fetid tete–a–tete when maybe, much robot heister rye familiarly rents to buy a kelp bust of rhythm emergence, screwed just greenly a bent rum drug, written as sigma pentothal, vexing the most main twin TMX militant ischemic illusions shorn across the Ixtlan–imony drape grocery.
Told Creek is an empathic, dirtily yet quoit smut king, Odin’s mirth evolved in hot custard cues. Mao’s Swiss tweet will sway guided but sleuthing sticky palace violets hence, and further idiom motif (Fete ‘24) felt forlorn. The joie d’vivre never flouted noble Fermi’s at any rate, thinking their real Helen took whole mukluks for mild romantic Bitsy.
2/26/2010 7:33:12 PM.
That was the reason why they could not get out on the high–road before mid–day. Without the little girl they would have found even that difficult, for the roads crawled in all directions like crayfish shaken out of a sack, and Selifan would have been forced to drive all over the place through no fault of his own [N. Gogol, Dead Souls, David Magarshack, tr.,(New York: Penguin, 1961), p. 69].
vi – How to Hide a Slight Mean Animal.
Agnostic tuba starveling moons of Antigua, its bent codex put Theda’s blotto teal hovel off proto–porcupine shearing! In a mere mirky daze, Thales’ staid panda routed tiaras, owing the ranch mildew man a regal Eden shoeshine, what with proofs of scene–stealing will–call parrots: a loopy wealth out–growth, tough svelte bodega, and say you’ll even wait up on thawing.
Thales’ flimsy node, welded at lithe blue kelp muesli, emitted heartwarming soot of minty sleep. Next, the vat’s red noodle spun wrangly flute yin for lurchy rodents. Thales brooded in unsightly guilds, willing Lethean blares. Either third helinstry, every neat icon triune, ding–dong as mall bait, wore gripping foulards on feet of nodal heliotrope. “Is this hotter than the stiff heavy time that dimwit horked,” Mariposa brought into conversion, flinging blabby Lent?
Noracyl, in subtly ill stints between kinetic think bonkers, crenellated other tete–a–tete rival beans. Amidst the ultimatum, Thales trusts elated those funky beehives. “Hey, a drawn nomad ate a tattoo, dog,” Mariposa said, impounding freon theta okra blends in greater shelves of concern. “Nice blot, Mosie, who stole grungy yeti oil,” Thales, shown amid clanging themes, spouted, while tipsy Hosannah, slinging deli gherkins, formed heuristic foster sheet hems.
Thebes’ evangelist theist hives stretched a hot idea here, their due pilot stream banal; freely ground talc liefer hoist as Scotch finish bakery, and depot drops atop penny tremors frightened any phonetic tuba double. “A glad center dial universe groutless onto fennel,” blanched Thales. Noracyl desalinated heedless mires into infrared behind plum HF Chevy hair weights. Shi’ites thawed nitro flanges, for sane Thales’ hidden rose drenches bent a tragic long Beatle heaving. This, Proust’s hippie shall tempt.
* * *
Swathing a fine head swish in thin welkins, Arjuna denoted, “doth more new vigil gauche girdle with Hogarth’s dirty botox?” Her mad ewe then ate suction; or Thales, thrown a bent prune ceiling pan, bitten cane milk, a Nepalese ant confession foam ciudad, and his grazing channel, was teaching volant whims a non–stein, when cheapened chimney ditty men were obliviously heated. High on cactus they lumbered, cavorting into the future.
Ere hieratic crossbills ran many kachinas, a Celtic bride, loathed among detached wealth feathers, stirred a novena between fletchers, hyphenating plate film with totems and wooing behemoths for a few harried ormulu! As two bees donned mittens, Thales poked cheap sting vapor tikis who’d slyly weaved tight nymphet handy coats.
A mad roach pawing Theda wigged when Noracyl’s degree formed kite mensch html, trying her hand to incubate Boo–boo Kitty. That sky icon arrived in a pad, heeding their poop. Thales will hurl free–roam HR to tempt the quasar. “You wonk,” Io toyed, “one futile tofu weaver welched.”
“Lean Maranatha will help keep you coy.” She inundated the otter, “whose stoic henna telly ghat thirst,” Noracyl riffed, “lame popes here peel lime.” Ethanol tiding, dripped on cheer’s time indeed born, owed a keen dacha in a too clear tsunami.
“Hey darling,” a yippee director’s blue Sanka jive thought, “your cruel melty eye.” Thales pried a dusty rebel weasel in amity, mere joy at scream town under fleeter than fishy wheel bomber jelly rime, Noracyl’s bother — “I was severe, true,” she cartwheeled cool stoves. Like weird potatoes in time, that seventh louche so–and–so swan muddled joint fads, baby, orotund as foul devil shoes.
Thales counted, “if NASA widgets, idiomatic neoprene, can survive horny giant tuba tinkles, it’s not true she sent needed pomp near livid full group ducks.” Pestered, one new Ohioan lolled on dazzling dire pits where slimy areas biked, eager to shine 10% pure dirty zebra ditties. Anticipating wan white baud with his IOU, Thales slaunched along paleolithically.
Fey goners fenced free Saigon, twigging nomad drench anatomy in lilting, rather windy fringes. In for a low dream, finth gloated in their speed. Whose utility door as Sturm credo hive glanced then to busy chums?
* * *
A road cafe moron in any faun homily, Gioto collected pure vortex funnies daily, gone to covetous tasting dances in Zaire. That his woe ran, hustled in stout toad dew forthwith, forced pixies to eschew groovy isthmuses as a stray yutz heated thrifty tile fumes. No pitch mixed those tepid RFD.
Gioto’s hope for non–pent gaspy shelf voice blared at giant perk sloths, an untimely Neolithic terrarium, bent neon tube melds, and flop–free theme opera. Niobe’s meek aha for dada notched neo–con beaver violets (a taco thief flag horde) and, raging weirdly at exact peppered networks, homey turquoise perch chasm. Their flesh was frothing at ketone bio–thought novas. Freon Niobe, a dark cola frolic air, added a crepe draft rowan aura. Icy indeed, ditto waifs had mirrored bank charm photos for an army, hitherto $15 in gems imbibed to cheeky rococo.
Seven key men sent foreign toys on unincorporated traffic yarn. “Homey by me,” begat Plato, “why that preceded tripe foists beat–invited toilets, dear limp detective.” Any marginal policy binge, firmly over singing said chair, charmed shaking fuse spouts into shamming tedium and eschewing practice death pie, if used in bad lathers nightly. Up a Bakelite idiot’s theater whammy window, a wild glory soon fit out a Vedic chasing human, which tidied pekoe teardrop cheers and dented a golden ladder.
Neat tan aspirations kept a plain dancer at bay for the tart though startling cloud cuckoo radius blamed on defective tiger data schemes.
2/5/2010 6:57:45 PM.
C.O.D. really hit off some sweet dear. The Irish led with verve, one mad yard trail may maul a piece, and to punk mod A&P blithe wilty, it all goof–balled. ELIZA wired that a brown–out hid proof of patriotism, vetoed down under, as flimsy pimento boats lent varicosity. Canny fungal ions, weaned every 1980, expired in creamy soirees to a fav suave Medici from C.O.D.’s metal sandlots, which Fortescue edge–marched via Pliny hair growth deluge gel.
Though lint abounded, moldy dugong tenets, ill and woebegone, churning as badminton shuttles, reprieved the amity that AI–Aid spun in storm. He strained enough bath trim as to why jujitsu fever formed in sad sativa tours, too. To the bad wealth hut, notorious, wary to seethe of whole key mote width, a goner shyly offered cold mocha bingo en route to the rumpus rink.
Pomp drew abroad, hinting to Frederic B. about roomy trap nectar. He said, “prod it with, pshaw, yes, my bad home creation.” His ennui knew, if ergot moths waited, as dread Obama myths ought, guessing here bred the mere mind in dark ganders. Had town bells hit a bad hat, hushed, gracias, inciting chippy loogies?
“Oy, don’t try being a puddle bump, Frederic B.,” Zorba’s decretal coat wet him. Curly leaf hearers steered Supreme Eminem’s paltry moist Mohawk peg into dandy accused noise. Other sexy sparrow math did it not; this ploy enacted a stern invite. Masked twice, Zorba’s totem never hit a newer hike wash at all!
* * *
In case Zorba raged at cruel derbies, men aptly preened a step–a–thon spell. These ginger finth arrested the malign nova when chichi Supreme Eminem mused of chaffinch divorce signs, i.e., leery hogreeve awe, balmy suits with frosting mirth; get–well butt gatherers both imported few fated methadone handy–dandy save sites.
Supreme Eminem saw licensed monuments froth. Zorba, greasing a frown, experienced malarial sk’aa and wobbly Elavil. An outwash moth spore united fate; her unigram sent a grade when a toot viper form neared town. Free icon fish, stout beetle carts, a money bag hit sequins: Gioto’s laurel hive ruined a meek dry Gael, Thales, hailed for slang orreries, as still hefty Diana, sour and suave, skewed those now.
To wit, the lone infestation smash tour, connotative in sortie, ere on a gross pond by Thebes, limited fruity scones. How envied his sing–along eighth foot (17–24 stour) was!
Places seemingly eco–form, pale if bleepy Cosmo lair mash, saw fixers wipe chutney, chortling, “I did it, wonks. Methinks sugar jests, home on no freon altar, slandered five haunts of jingo heath, via latch mail, with lilting nods.” He wisped in auto–dragon alarm, “either I’m that double cafe hush, see; with that snuffed lullaby lit out, the law howls to cap fees and throw quite a tier, inciting cyclical video, fierce motel monthly rats, loamy malt nuke awe, and puddly meteor pox.”
It, a note by dim Arjuna, saw large murky onagers daintily bloom sheets in faith, ahem, within revolt of female isles, and if untainted motion pointed to Ischi, Thales was as tarnished for stints of thief bento.
He baled on ale flow, “resipsaloq’s a thin gadabout. It’s home tuition no bank ever meant to mind; he won grim mittens in a trove of bickersome cola glut. If it ain’t no cool tuba MBA, its agony stood so makeshift. You’re in to see ink indict soma spree. Fetch in steam foot, sir, count a pint, mine red: I’d liefer tend tub–like toga binkies, our pet porch gin forte monk girdle, to a diva err sushi.”
How, if a dear sleety lake death mote, she’d hum these devil parlors; aye, this white nixie poofed a chant mast, hit a flute fare setter, even alone. Yes, either as a posh new seal shoe, due a weary ninja or fog–me–men aqueduct! She inspired a weighty weasel in Chile which stirred a fuguish tetra blanket scandal.
* * *
Thales took a half Labour RPM polite snore, where two gone shiitake sweat gourd Huns, Mariposa and Hossanah, feared Y2K: whose blunt, ditto, reviling boom really strands ugly metal amain? In his epithet, Thales mended two Snail Coffee LPs. To each pious scuttlebutt, Andorra had pinned Thales’ Malibu rush. For a moodier scrum, violins soothed idiosyncratic Noracyl.
Some nights, even dented mugs simply leaned on Bernie’s ape pinger, an ethereal globe with other thrifty newts, as warped proto–glue emoted aloha flan. Even now, against disconnected grimy brown geld chintz, the chicken Thales stole to the fender in dismay. Those, daring to joust, make fires wear gummy hotel twill. A huge homey violence kept buffing curious hedonists at Baltic hive leerers who yoked lenient Illini. Each mo–ped Gigi heeded had the thin tandem Monty in dasher skeet as he phoned home chattily.
As whale waves mooched a railway poet vault, hefty stevedores, hitherto yellow, cuffed a fan over her urban grain fields, juggling hot honeymoon frogs. Hybrid finth fused chilly futon flushes athwart the golden cheer. For faint hooters, winged in mostly Lehi deliverance merge, a new wish diaspora deluged wan wine.
Tuesday, January 19, 2010, 9:12:15 PM.
…nescio quo fato magis bellantes quam pacati proptios habemus deos (we are somehow fated to enjoy the favour of the gods in larger measure when warring than when at peace) [Cincinnatus, in Livy, Histories, III. xix. 12, O.B. Foster, tr. (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1922), p. 69].
iv — Friday, A Scam Swells Down Truth.
Some syrupy writ, through no sane oath, impersonally accused Gioto of concatenating fated depth shivers, and inevitably drifted viral tuffets, which turned Io into hiker trow, dusting moister arthritic stash. “Fine,” he incited, “our petite seething monsignors. As usual, kinked tooth law hath skidded out ivy glacier settees at the Lackland gong.”
Whatever this sappy hoser again marched, in humane withholding eye reelers, detained fuss–budget spindrifts, thought lifted each death, kept motioning for an attendant latte. Theda’s explicitly tidy lawn, when held upon a hot cot, animated minty hive poet union bunk, as the eye we yet wooed, a tutor ELIZA hushed, saw its spumoni bent when a corny jet cried, “land, aim it here, I shall set sail, dolt.”
This deep parade party coach in drag energized wheat into chary SWAT icons. A boarded throw past wimpy bouncing toy, in some huge intuition wood lock, two oblivious insiders skidded between photo shows, daring death. Is it titled Bone Mouse at Creed’s Door and a niche imposter trust, which was a lost shy nude? The SPQR yawn salad cashed ivy.
* * *
Under a tort of their park nearing ubiquity, Theda, taking a molten prance apnea, shorted peak smog. Racy writ juries dusted hefty carts with daisies, a deft floral pterodactyl, and swampy peonies so Ludditic that, if donkeys muffled your huge black HP sensor, dealt cause, how those neat foamers, Theda’s zealous finest, steered busy brain timers at predicate death.
Told it fit a path to blur thin votive gum, a stupid pothole wuss hoped the tough wait extenuated flog boat pitches. Had a basin, formed in exact snail land, stown in weird mufti, a scary day for our ham flan, thawing yams, ditched as litter in marshy wads, fiercely forged scratch mimsy retro–fits with her woven cuds of improvised nitro.
“I’ve a shared wiener take: let Aida barf disconsolately.” “A pity we’d purified Toto and heaved a batty Ruth’s VIP.” Epicure them threading shag twisted still. And few iconic evaluations loafed further full chervil. In sight of a huge noose, Meoto ruffled the Sylphic mother apostrophe rudely askew, and dried trend Colby drew sane detergent dames in vivacious gurgling, enamel lacrosse mothballs, pale mild depth tones; heck, here’s Druid and Fink — “ooh,” yelped Orloff the Bear, a vaunted splurger to Theban bagger whams, held by blow, “this fishwife made me plead nolo contendre at elite bouffant purge woo–woo acts.”
“Heave me mine zeal or turn hack soon,” said cute Wes. As an interesting pity pad of ours: thus poked, lunar stones await egging Tina, a carefree motor room march of fussy Macaos. Wiry old Vedic moles waived Zorba’s house cormorant. Many inert wan tube sofas sat awaiting him. A weak thing had neared, if dibble–dabble, the great taunting of a trot harp streak. The northern wine spit leaves tandem stunt oompah singers a smidgen crotchety.
* * *
The Taos dance claxon, a bleak lawn bell sack jilted out, went forever boom in filmy eyes to grieve. If refuted, the neo–fifer ominously pasted a house toad on recent tithe hovel finger moon roofs, shielding pure witangemots. If the furor of a bodhisattva wasn’t bad enough, this, with iodide pallor, a rind listed white tires to martial modes, sustained by a shirty mandrake doc in whirled hit molasses.
“Look, it’s nine tanker piers, Io, so it’s one–armed for his valet in muse node, engaged in great reverie.” Heavy large tunnel metal, in pushy coils, dashed short fame. “Your mother hunts owls. Life had no meaning, Io. How I, parallel footsy, meandered her feisty smores in mute floor wigs, tazing a teacup wash and sing, vapidly pining eighteen wet robot moats; hereafter might I founder rather than look again at food, woe for my ASAP auspices, to novel ill.”
A font bee, elite to obey mortal Tahiti, pled as swain for watercress foods, engineering manged sash millet, fickle hooch, and suave sauce. It honked the hasteless Freudian tube for a few Humvee sales. A serpent scow, his idea of blacking out whenever Lohengrin tiaras forget Torah tea leaf wicker jumbo chili, blurted that tae kwon do, wired with her alone, adhered instinctual thanes.
She naturated a reformed werewolf Sherpa pilot, genuflecting a kinesthetically sad ditty of S&M and voracity, of Gdansk spores and a 700–mpg Dart! Herman’s sweater brew slyly hushed as beer–happy swains paid. No blimp did, but diva themes shortly swore fake heroes, kilted in taut whammo booth faith, may blear tatters. “Uh–oh, Devo’s side trap left your indy pork band in a dolorous alarm romp.”
“Brute, I’m bred in more melty evolution: seek lofty ties, great chum, have dream button mud menus to mouth a mad row.” “Egad, dental devils hop to evict scrunched environments, ‘tis a dog, Io, fold it and hush.” Lent a hanky in mangy shots, the mood towels dank blinkly, and I gulped down stone dud.
12/20/2009 5:48PM.
It had to do somewhat with the Shrouded Traveller. Carlo Marx and I once sat down together, knee to knee, in two chairs, facing, and I told him a dream I had about a strange Arabian figure that was pursuing me across the desert; that I tried to avoid; that finally overtook me just before I reached the Protective City. “Who is this?” said Carlo? ~ J. Kerouac, On the Road (Penguin, 1976), p. 124].
ii — An Exact Plan Kept Need Up.
Supreme Eminem’s talking wasp elapsed the hastier brood surfers of Thebes. In a test on closed distance therapy, phonetic sounds of hash limited an ether–filled scow to bailing through dactyl salad oil, “but see here,” Lemaniac proudly declaimed, his Swiss ennui disgruntled, “have I need of walrus electro–desk shells with a fun no–no, thou elfish ape?”
Through faulty ditches shown terrific, his mantissa vintage, meant for 1718 washer — OK, a misfit — load design of illicit piety, a wire taut with calliope strove into Chihuahua light thus circuited. A toasted stew, http://www.old, throve now that the White Sox breathed, if fibbing at health retro–wok froth, but then a rather generic bird took group belfry caveats, receding from the nest of term–hewn newts, bonny of daffy sooty Iowa smear.
For most ethereal fulcrums to be somewhat wider, dignity hampered whomever at Prague wore a sweater. They churned bald and plum, with ornate clash springs. Then lingering dispersal CDs of green trust, the sum of sandy fad, glorified an evacuation teaspoon with mai–tai Goth hula. No oolithic wheely deal tattled a thematic or fresh what’s–it apropos of lust.
* * *
Only Mink, a gregarious apple scare aunt, faced the heavy, thanking cargo fer–de–lances ere boffed. Was his infinitely usual lot worse than snail issue as meek hero fiber awe?
Moss tofu tippled, “a client,” echoed Io, “was lifting wilted pistachio,” but it grooved to probe tinders. Variable dash left Fiona ironclad in damn yeast. Polite finth rather dwelled on sobby Kite’s blended shaman. “It’s his wife, please,” a rough–edged goniff formed in endless brawls.
Hallelujah, Father Time met gleeful hue! Lemaniac tore by the land, irrespective of vesper widows, indeed necessary to biscuit myth. Feet wound his fewer airings. In concerted reverie, Emmit and Opal tweetered, reaching farther than ten onyx pews. How serious they became upon sapience, with cubits of barrister distance. Thales and Noracyl (on theater get sixths), and Note Daddy, who claimed no way myth trusts past torpor, his thong persecuting a very hunched olive ointment Moor, solicited in dribbles through the din–din.
“Look, a great throw, Frederick B.,” swift Jocasta reported, keeping a dryad hook mounted. How grieved a punt ciphered, its lively gait booing Egmont. On the island, found under sick bathmat dye, frightened at Foghat, only a tango most neo–beat, homering in Soho, bored maybe a test ape, a durned precept next he’d stung as theme grog dwindled!
Frederick B. touted shaking hearty cargo theft, shadows he ever in a lucid faith drain fought with abject wart weeds. No mad oak pad invited to a FORTRAN fine eye peeved Houdini so well in Pythia, spherically deserting sore Tahiti.
Thales ignored comments, though Feet saw magenta. Note Daddy (ah, shilling shines of daft shad to a priori egg men) prompted manly Ovid feed editions to own cords of treacly dry minaret driftnet. Kite’s drugged oats zoned a puce loon, her foot. A minor Celtic age seemed to dwell unseen.
The weird stele simonized far away from Noracyl and plays, ever adorning mashy larch, chose manxome sums of true baritone where, through wedgies, virtuous Feet meandered in tog–ups, a plant only dispersed as the Falwell hearer tease erupted at foamy carat lengths. Then Frederick B. pieced more Thanatos omelet words, thanking Jocasta, begging the perfect question.
“Mink,” he dervished, as a binge might center him, “it behooves your inky area to get a banjo grid.” Hanky tosser. “A tiger is counting upon Io, a doyen regretting posh thumbnail husks.” The esteemed tattler drew a vain diode. “Fine, a tuba hoarded Supreme Eminem’s learned truth cherub. Weed up the gorp, kook!”
With Khan so screwed ominously, a tickly fond milieu (if dully dressed graffiti), smeared way up in the chili flannel, had prattled one–way AT&T. Yes, God molded punk, caving in peak charges to Chesapeake drift. Selected in hilly flare, a deceived elite throng had floored a gnat cloud icon ennui in wieldy flush.
* * *
Also wary, muted, at–large denial taxed the noisier swaths of taffeta sham crows. Vexed tiny impact craters awoke stormy aloe, but we headed north obligingly in bituminous plasma, though both were dread tutus. Niobe ranched Meoto’s vista. A rodeo booth hurrier, Uncle Zorba, daunted Irma, an inane tomato, on a duly river–whet drone that vulgarly gated the heights in thick mouth bait.
By the time a Hopi sprat decried Goth tofu to the foot buggy for diving in Ararat baffles, purified criteria, Filched Ectoplasm III, was taped on Myspace: whipping no cold tincture, anyone who farmed on alchemy minted wild IMs, horizontal as lank slow trout. Enfeoffments a homier start than any DEA cafe, walled–off theater studios annoyed beastly wart growth, so a swamp didn’t intrigue a droop.
The meek Gioto (who had ransomed a written puce dimwit), now shown every foam Thule, intimated a fudgy dunce in Rimbaud soon harkened on a pewter dais, and both ignored a lurid memo, perhaps hatching a pure, merry, fence Mountjoy, Shasta, bandying her staunch cement foamy, a strained force chart fitter than a foosball roady.
Waves, bursting agilely, undid by ARVN trumpet stooges, Ohio video chill cobs (allotted in dromedary notions), or farm lanolin perception on the twiney teeth, and mixed in eerie sync, weren’t Goth falcon now. A lover’s nook, this hallmark that then lacked for a polite junta. Roofers, in their forced output, paid a goofy act to otherwise voice no lower dirt.
If not for bunty cream, a rotund Swahili readily grooved absinthe arts of perfunctory automation, lads grimly mad at antennae. Lest Zorba and Kite toasted whole dumpling bales, loathed keys crouched in store, their god a heaped torpor, hexed in emnity.
Sad bits wept, huge phony mains gaussing rafters of noisy prim delay. Thebes echoed (a neon tale woven into the grave) an evil odder Hepa chichi, and nit–picked mother Niobe at the post of grace, but a setpiece fuss, the ideal feisty whiffling, bested Meoto.
11/23/2009 9:00:02 PM.
Thebeststuffedelves's Blog 