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self with an elusive Antonius, a wop who would appear to hug
a personal interest in refined chees of all chades at the same time
as he wags an antomine art of being rude like the boor. This
Antonius-Burrus-Caseous grouptriad may be said to equate
the qualis equivalent with the older socalled talis on talis one
just as quantly as in the hyperchemical economantarchy the tan-
tum ergons irruminate the quantum urge so that eggs is to whey
as whay is to zeed like your golfchild's abe boob caddy. And this
is why any simple philadolphus of a fool you like to dress, an
athemisthued lowtownian, exlegged phatrisight, may be awfully
green to one side of him and fruitfully blue on the other which
will not screen him however from appealing to my gropesarch-
ing eyes, through the strongholes of my acropoll, as a boosted
blasted bleating blatant bloaten blasphorus blesphorous idiot
who kennot tail a bomb from a painapple when he steals one
and wannot psing his psalmen with the cong in our gregational
pompoms with the canting crew.
     No! Topsman to your Tarpeia! This thing, Mister Abby, is 
nefand. (And, taking off soutstuffs and alkalike matters, I hope
we can kill time to reach the salt because there's some forceglass
neutric assets bittering in the soldpewter for you to plump your
pottage in). The thundering legion has stormed Olymp that
it end. Twelve tabular times till now have I edicted it. Merus
Genius to Careous Caseous! Moriture, te salutat!  My phemous
themis race is run, so let Demoncracy take the highmost! (Abra-
ham Tripier. Those old diligences are quite out of date. Read
next answer). I'll beat you so lon. (Bigtempered. Why not take
direct action. See previous reply). My unchanging Word is sacred.
The word is my Wife, to exponse and expound, to vend and to
velnerate, and may the curlews crown our nuptias! Till Breath
us depart! Wamen. Beware would you change with my years. Be
as young as your grandmother! The ring man in the rong shop
but the rite words by the rote order! Ubi lingua nuncupassit, ibi
fas! Adversus hostem semper sac! She that will not feel my ful-
moon let her peel to thee as the hoyden and the impudent! That
mon that hoth no moses in his sole nor is not awed by conquists