Difference between revisions of "Page 443"
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behaitch like solitar. We are all eyes. I have his quoram of | behaitch like solitar. We are all eyes. I have his quoram of | ||
− | images all on my retinue, Mohomadhawn Mike. Brassup! More- | + | images all on my [[retinue]], Mohomadhawn Mike. Brassup! More- |
over after that,bad manners to me,if I don't think strongly about | over after that,bad manners to me,if I don't think strongly about | ||
giving the brotherkeeper into custody to the first police bubby | giving the brotherkeeper into custody to the first police bubby | ||
Line 39: | Line 39: | ||
skrene about Michan and his lost angeleens is corkyshows do | skrene about Michan and his lost angeleens is corkyshows do | ||
morvaloos, blueygreen eyes a bit scummy developing a series of | morvaloos, blueygreen eyes a bit scummy developing a series of | ||
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Revision as of 09:40, 4 July 2007
behaitch like solitar. We are all eyes. I have his quoram of images all on my retinue, Mohomadhawn Mike. Brassup! More- over after that,bad manners to me,if I don't think strongly about giving the brotherkeeper into custody to the first police bubby cunstabless of Dora's Diehards in the field I might chance to follopon. Or for that matter, for your information, if I get the wind up what do you bet in the buckets of my wrath I mightn't even take it into my progromme, as sweet course, to do a rash act and pitch in and swing for your perfect stranger in the meadow of heppiness and then wipe the street up with the clonmellian, pending my bringing proceedings verses the joyboy before a bunch of magistrafes and twelve good and gleeful men? Filius nullius per fas et nefas. It should prove more or less of an event and show the widest federal in my cup. He'll have pansements then for his pensamientos, howling for peace. Pretty knocks, I promise him with plenty burkes for his shins. Dumnlimn wimn humn. In which case I'll not be complete in fighting lust until I contrive to half kill your Charley you're my darling for you and send him to Home Surgeon Hume, the algebrist, before his ap- pointed time, particularly should he turn out to be a man in brown about town, Rollo the Gunger, son of a wants a flurewaltzer to Arnolff's, picking up ideas, of well over or about fiftysix or so, pithecoid proportions, with perhops five foot eight, the usual X Y Z type, R.C. Toc H, nothing but claret, not in the studbook by a long stortch, with a toothbrush moustache and jawcrockeries, alias grinner through collar, and of course no beard, meat and colmans suit, with tar's baggy slacks, obviously too roomy for him and springside boots, washing tie, Father Mathew's bridge pin, sipping some Wheatley's at Rhoss's on a barstool, with some pubpal of the Olaf Stout kidney, always trying to poorchase mov- ables by hebdomedaries for to putt in a new house to loot, cigarette in his holder, with a good job and pension in Buinness's, what about our trip to Normandy style conversation, with an oc- casional they say that filmacoulored featured at the Mothrapurl skrene about Michan and his lost angeleens is corkyshows do morvaloos, blueygreen eyes a bit scummy developing a series of