Difference between revisions of "Page 102"

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(circusfix)
(Parisienne's)
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  little [[bolero boa]] and all and [[two times twenty]] [[curlicornies]] for her
 
  little [[bolero boa]] and all and [[two times twenty]] [[curlicornies]] for her
 
  headdress, [[specks]] on her eyeux, and [[spudds on horeilles]] and a
 
  headdress, [[specks]] on her eyeux, and [[spudds on horeilles]] and a
  [[circusfix]] riding her Parisienne's cockneze, a vaunt her straddle
+
  [[circusfix]] riding her [[Parisienne's]] cockneze, a vaunt her straddle
 
  from Equerry Egon, when Tinktink in the churchclose clinked
 
  from Equerry Egon, when Tinktink in the churchclose clinked
 
  Steploajazzyma Sunday, <I>Sola</I>, with pawns, prelates and pookas
 
  Steploajazzyma Sunday, <I>Sola</I>, with pawns, prelates and pookas

Revision as of 12:33, 9 June 2006

TOC

Page 101 Page 103

is younger than thighne, my dear!) she who shuttered him after
his fall and waked him widowt sparing and gave him keen and
made him able and held adazillahs to each arche of his noes, she
who will not rast her from her running to seek him till, with the
help of the okeamic, some such time that she shall have been after
hiding the crumbends of his enormousness in the areyou looking-
for Pearlfar sea, (ur, uri, uria!) stood forth, burnzburn the gorg-
gony old danworld, in gogor's name, for gagar's sake, dragging
the countryside in her train, finickin here and funickin there,
with her louisequean's brogues and her culunder buzzle and her
little bolero boa and all and two times twenty curlicornies for her
headdress, specks on her eyeux, and spudds on horeilles and a
circusfix riding her Parisienne's cockneze, a vaunt her straddle
from Equerry Egon, when Tinktink in the churchclose clinked
Steploajazzyma Sunday, Sola, with pawns, prelates and pookas
pelotting in her piecebag, for Handiman the Chomp, Esquoro,
biskbask, to crush the slander's head.
  Wery weeny wight, plead for Morandmor! Notre Dame de la 
Ville, mercy of thy balmheartzyheat! Ogrowdnyk's beyond her-
bata tay, wort of the drogist. Bulk him no bulkis. And let him
rest, thou wayfarre, and take no gravespoil from him! Neither
mar his mound! The bane of Tut is on it. Ware! But there's a
little lady waiting and her name is A.L.P. And you'll agree. She
must be she. For her holden heirheaps hanging down her back.
He spenth his strenth amok haremscarems. Poppy Narancy, Gial-
lia, Chlora, Marinka, Anileen, Parme. And ilk a those dames had
her rainbow huemoures yet for whilko her whims but he coined a
cure. Tifftiff today, kissykissy tonay and agelong pine tomauran-
na. Then who but Crippled-with-Children would speak up for
Dropping-with-Sweat?
    
        Sold him her lease of ninenineninetee, 
        Tresses undresses so dyedyedaintee, 
        Goo, the groot gudgeon, gulped it all. 
        Hoo was the C. O. D.? 
                          Bum!