Difference between revisions of "Page 206"
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bingkan cagnan with their [[timpan]] crowders. Mind your Grimm- | bingkan cagnan with their [[timpan]] crowders. Mind your Grimm- | ||
father! Think of your [[Ma!]] Hing the Hong is his jove's hang- | father! Think of your [[Ma!]] Hing the Hong is his jove's hang- | ||
− | nomen ! Lilt a bolero, bulling a law ! She swore on [[croststyx]] nyne | + | nomen ! [[Lilt a bolero, bulling a law !]] She swore on [[croststyx]] nyne |
wyndabouts she's be level with all the snags of them yet. Par the | wyndabouts she's be level with all the snags of them yet. Par the | ||
[[Vulnerable Virgin's Mary del Dame!]] So she said to herself she'd | [[Vulnerable Virgin's Mary del Dame!]] So she said to herself she'd |
Latest revision as of 13:10, 3 August 2009
the mauldrin rabble around him in areopage, fracassing a great bingkan cagnan with their timpan crowders. Mind your Grimm- father! Think of your Ma! Hing the Hong is his jove's hang- nomen ! Lilt a bolero, bulling a law ! She swore on croststyx nyne wyndabouts she's be level with all the snags of them yet. Par the Vulnerable Virgin's Mary del Dame! So she said to herself she'd frame a plan to fake a shine, the mischiefmaker, the like of it you niever heard. What plan? Tell me quick and dongu so crould! What the meurther did she mague? Well, she bergened a zakbag, a shammy mailsack, with the lend of a loan of the light of his lampion, off one of her swapsons, Shaun the Post, and then she went and consulted her chapboucqs, old Mot Moore, Casey's Euclid and the Fashion Display and made herself tidal to join in the mascarete. O gig goggle of gigguels. I can't tell you how! It's too screaming to rizo, rabbit it all! Minneha, minnehi mina- aehe, minneho! O but you must, you must really! Make my hear it gurgle gurgle, like the farest gargle gargle in the dusky dirgle dargle! By the holy well of Mulhuddart I swear I'd pledge my chanza getting to heaven through Tirry and Killy's mount of impiety to hear it all, aviary word! O, leave me my faculties, woman, a while! If you don't like my story get out of the punt. Well, have it your own way, so. Here, sit down and do as you're bid. Take my stroke and bend to your bow. Forward in and pull your overthepoise! Lisp it slaney and crisp it quiet. Deel me long- some. Tongue your time now. Breathe thet deep. Thouat's the fairway. Hurry slow and scheldt you go. Lynd us your blessed ashes here till I scrub the canon's underpants. Flow now. Ower more. And pooleypooley. First she let her hair fal and down it flussed to her feet its teviots winding coils. Then, mothernaked, she sampood herself with galawater and fraguant pistania mud, wupper and lauar, from crown to sole. Next she greesed the groove of her keel, warthes and wears and mole and itcher, with antifouling butter- scatch and turfentide and serpenthyme and with leafmould she ushered round prunella isles and eslats dun, quincecunct, allover her little mary. Peeld gold of waxwork her jellybelly and her