Author: shawn

fowp, or the questo will get you in the end

” girls world like scrub all round closed every wild nonsense being commitment arm eight Turkish warships getting can make copies home one Madam Mina tell sails being next branches willow too reverse Dowager Palace waited go get ready all well four can pushcarts plums bananas interest vegetable gardens Prince essential nature eating unsatisfactory Sunset asked shoulder put arm back blouse get ready all well four ca”

find a purpose in any old thing. boots and lederhosen and jeremiads and deuced maneuvers(!) and pomo dancers straight from juilliard and coughy drowners and whisked bottom drawers and all the graves on earth and countless mastodons.

or maybe finding the sordid storied farmaceuticals laying about the place. inject some cinematic joy straight into your carotid. swallow a novelistic lozenge and watch the dialogue float by (flutterby), attributions fluting by the wayside. snort some musically, why don’cha? get those verrrrrbareens and chordiclaes deep in there. feel those cilia burn! (hammer and tongs, droning deep–deeply droning?)

cor blimey, it’s alive

…giggling, ya that’s it, i’m sure.
or supposing that a thousand tiny feet are trampling the old house into a cornucopia of blistering fittletods. or even on the flipside of it: despair that the old corner market shop square will ever have the fillips or distrynops that you’ve always had yer heart set upon.

while quaffing the old (quagquag) brew today, seething out the pores with aforementioned quibbles and desperadoes, well, had a nice bit of recollecting (mutual and refined.)

can’t find a countryside with enough love, cause all the love’s gone south for the wekker. (cold feet, that’s my ticket for the wekker! much as m’feet log to be warm!)

Lots of electonic text fun

Just think about the possibilities if copyright terms only lasted 14 years (with one 14 year renewal).
These are the original terms of copyright in this country, way back in the founding days.

Think of the possibilities regarding the public domain and the digitizing of all those texts. What then could be done? It’s moments like this when I wish I had some kind of programming bone in my body.

I highly recommend that people start rereading the classics, though. Wouldn’t it be great if schools started teaching from public domain electronic texts?

a great heaping glass of sand

drink sand, you vasty bloatfish!
have yerself a sandwitch. (ride that cackling hag, ya!) or pick out the sand from betwixt yer teeth. here’s a pick, Congregorio.

i hear those molars grinding sand to diamonds. blastoff soon, you daysold friends, clutter up the ultiverse with periodicals and infinite patterings of tapping munkeys. (yank their tails: you’ve got Faust. box their ears: you’ve got Proust)

feel the happering histological paramours groping in the cold closet. hear their rustling heels pounding on the stone. or, contrariwise, turn your pages and hope that nothing happens….

dangling farragos

trampling inner klockwerks
roast the inner klockwerk man and see his entrails spring out in a milliard blistering spronquats and gorgleshafts. in time, the ground grew dark with eaten watch-bands and soiled klockwerk battries. (fire away, you ungoliant geremiads or legerdemains or…..phhhhhhhhhhhht) forty or more cheeseshops and only runny anokky or terrestrial mushroomheads to drink. and how does a spirala fallaziously bakwerds inferences keep us chaned in a kage? eat the walls of yer prizzon, my frends. don let those geercickles getcha down. tho we may be trapped in dappled time, step outside and peer in, littlematchgirllike through the glass. see what fills the space:
is it filled with naughting? or dancing fetttishals? wave yer totem (toto totot?) aminal in the hair!
lik the shugerplumfaries. they shur are tastee!