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"Novelty Badges" / "Comic Celluloid Buttons" -- "These Buttons provide subjects for pleasant jokes and amusing conversation, and thus smooth the way to a more familiar acquaintance and cordial friendship. They are very wittily worded and quite unobjectionable. Wear one and see the effect." of the 1920s? Sometime hard to believe.
fust
sekn
thud
foth
thro yatz comek llinc

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ievilling speyr.
Looks like that's from the first for reals trans of the aeneid int english, which was into scots & I remarkd a trans of Phedre in to Scots whh is vers something to s come acros unexpectly o the libary

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I shit on apocrypha! Poooop!
,a href="some crapass plastic url, really the saddest thing is the ramplant some crap".sig of someone, * this& this ite the faeatre featreu feature: If PacMan had affected us as kids we'd be running around in dark rooms, munching pills and listening to electronic music/i.,.

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More "eyes" => "ass" hilarity:
.. I saw your brown ass turning once to fire
You are like a hurricane
There's calm in your ass ..

In other it's the speaking undated massss. And the genetics of hotsauce is downtrodden. It 's not hot enuf. For the uniformed, the eyes-to-ass rule is that whenever someone uses the word 'eyes" in a song, think thro it as "ass". This proves their subconsciousn shit.

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A story. Once

Pona Luisa sat in the highway road in Juarez Mexico, picking the petals off a flower given her by Juan. Pona Luisa was a shepherdess in the wrong time. There was no zone and is. No, Pon

Pona Luisa sat in the road picking the petals of a flower given her by Juan. She never finished though, for a roadrunner zipped by, saying, Carry meback, carry meback, to my old ford floater home. And Pona Luisa was intrigued. So she headed down the road in search of the roadrunner's fen home. How could this roadrunner, she wondered, ever live in a swamp? How could he pass through the desert without drowning? It seemed impossible, and she was intrigued.

She made her way through Mexico, westward, feeding on cactusmeat and the salt of the earth. It could be made a stew of, in the pot she travelled with. A succulent and a savor mixed.

It came to pass that she arrived in another town.

She arrived in Junes, where she was greeted by an old woman, wrinkle faced and hunching, on the outskirts of towne.

Old woman said, Dear you're a mite tired thing, in your short skirt and old orphan backpack.
Pona Luisa said, I'm follow the roadrunner to his home in the swamp.
Old woman said, The roadrunner lives not in the swamp, the roadrunner lives in baja. Why do you chase a roadrunner?
Pona Luisa said, It sang me a song I've never heard the likes of before.
Old woman said, "That was a song of foolery, and expense. You follow him, anyone follow that is a plum fool"
Pona Luisa ducked and grinned. Roadrunner was a cute little migratory critter.
Old woman said, Why don't you visit with some of the boys in town? There's a new sherrif you might find tantalizing.
Pona Luisa said, Oh, I'll alright, I'll see.
Old woman said she was wise.
Pona Luisa thanked her & head into towne.

In town Pona Luisa met with an information booth, and input her interests & found out to go to the Cabin de Goodstuff. Okay, she thought, this sounds like my kind of place. But now everyone's going to dare me to try on new saps.

In the Cabin de Goodstuff, a small shack looking oun the outward, she found a mister from Tennessee. He had long black hair and a wet warm face, and was fat as a beehive.
She said, Here there, you aren't the sherrif's daughter, whups, I mean the old woman on the outskirts of town said it's marvelous brandy they serve up here.
No mam, said he, I'm the serving a warrant man. I dig clams.
Well, I've found the like of one of two or those in the desert, if you prepare the stew just right. How bout I demonstrate.
Okay, said the serving a warrant man. I'll appreciate.

Pona Luisa led him to the desert, telling him all about the roadrunner & her task & tack. Such was supply in short demand of cacti that they had to scour for a while, unto darkness. & The serving a warrant man came to press her for clam.

Here's my recipe she said & I'll be seeing you, but don't let the cactus stick you, he said.

So how about that, eh kids? Pretty good one, with intervals. I don't care for it too rightly myself.

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Do I rempeat meself: ? May, but this is good as god, I mean glod. If you have aheard the only first part of Zorrothruster, you hae miss out, & Ein Heldenleben s even better. Plus you can try to convince people that the cover shows Fritz Reiner holding a doobie. It's a good idea.

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"The budget caps were busted, mightily so."--GWB

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Hintin in daym clynen tyka shtate ine pavil yon owse groonem oond owse wyssem portzaylan, going through my head all day-

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Ahhhhhhh, englihtnemnet!
Speaking of which, "I'm Raga Child", appearance.

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Hey hey hey tigger, kick that truncheon out ta that Luncheon. Here, repeat OEEEEP
Hey wow kids, That Joebob Anderson sent me the FUNNIEST JOKE IN AGES": Subject: Best Joke in Ages Date: Thu, 4 Jan 2001 01:54:44 [joke removed] If you have ever considered having someone or a pet painted in oil then click on portrait artist John Anderson"s web site: http://www.paintingportraits.com. I mean bet. Well, it's a goodun aint' ti & [My] detective work can earn me big money!!!

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It's got souned li The Truncheonary, the Dagmar_Chili official Geopities homepage.

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"Songs without Parole": I wouldn't call anything that-- 'tis too much a striking about the eares. Das kommt von. Despite the questionable domain, these is some nice dingen here. Like Mr Curtis White's amusing & uniquely agreeable 1 2 3 4 5.

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Wenceslaus Shall be Free Sandpaper Sampler
[note, this should be read with deepening convenience]

Ell I wen down to the riddagy &
Had to step on the walk of the dock,
Seven pretty wealthy hours every day
& a piece a univ uniform up in the sky,
Stopped a peanut,
Made roastbeef,
Picked a heimlich smelter
uniform soiled

Eeee every station on every day
Is a piece of canning pontoon in every way
Possible if ya find it do up a dock
If a little dab of ointment gets stuck in yr sock
Pissed a pontoon
Eat green beans
Septuagint sampler
Case a blackeye peas

Now I don't know bout the stubby snot
Can it give a roped steamboat in every hut
So looks like an eggplant on the working grid
Caught a piece of tampon headin to the griddle
Wanted a waffle
A piece a string cheese
Safety googles
A lifebuoy!

Mixed up the serpent on an air-raid siren
Was pumper to crumpet on the Townsend line
Felt about a thirty eight miles per gallon
Cause a little gumdrop stickin on a mountain lion
He stalked the ravine
Welted lion
Someone spotted it
Gave up lightly

Naaaaw, the peacefullest throng that I ever thing
was a piece of black tape on the starbird wing
Second one over was just as fine
and caught a little army commingling down the way
Saved the parchments
Vented toothpaste
ornery moss scrape
mashed potaters

When I'm a falling in a playful mood
I like to squirt & shit in everyone's food
Don't mess their pocketbooks nor their guts
when Everyone knows there's the angry hermits
A dingle berry
a jellied snowstorm
filled it out
ask for directions

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glorey, Glorey Haleluyers,
satans got a wuuden Ruler.

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That's right, man, it's a bunch of A1 horse crap!

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Did you know that ninety-five percent of scientists walk in a shuffle, saying "You, you, you, you," imperiously til the sunsets? Finally get to patented double-odds peat-bunter & Gelepano Bud Jelly sandwiches.

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Ah I want a go where the paving sits up, where no coordinated starboard pep-o-meter is set upl

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Boph! That entry was wasting on the pigeonholes. Here's Slimy Flynn, to deliver an important pig:

In case they throw hairy balls transcriptase we see
Boeing rectitude at asymptote Belize
and again the bog dames cloud over.
Iiiii got better things to suspend my disbelief on
Belch stimmung yr pardon, and have been for the rest
of my file, on Belief sunday, where the hypnotists roam.
The hour going into paint is charged at a minute.
And felt-tipped, felt-tipped is the pen.
Wharf! I can't see for rising. Part some of calomine is over the sore eye.
Brrrr.
My Broker's been set free, to run amid the mice of the field.
Like the top Taxi driver on a Pawtucket tuesda

Oh vet rat, get a peg stone in that p
Is wh

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And it's pep-pep-pep-pep-pep-pep-pep-pecuniary in the window, there's lots of ragged box contents but there's little primeval material. So's a straightneck nemoclassyasstech & a positable foot-to-boot neuroclassicist. Feint at it t t t , & figure you out what your head rage is. What & the kind of way you want it fried.

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Okay, okay, gravelrubblegrasp:
syntfetico webs filt with dust & detriTUSSin,
straven funtny dolars, silt d     devising this time,
eft eft hence be though it may face the shamed shoreline else
after pardoning the moon, silk maststrap ebonhitch fastened
drifted out too soon from the harbor & under the shore lay written
a small southern word for a sweet cure soaked
ham. Else of them, caught sight of them,
etch by thorn on scratch of paper torn
fault along the ground spelloud
a faulty name
along through the head, scratched out the same &
pardoned the moon again.
Felt like losing an off hundred handshake.
Shed on the floor a claw, a cat thorn in the dividing wall. In.
the salt on the shore eventually and sell it.
Terraces in Peru, shores of the Andes and grazing camels by them.
Steak is so cheap if you poison it
you could walk off a ledge and drown or dive,
and if you divided it you could walk. Or smoke from a factory or fieldmouse in the sea.

A truckfull with watches, like everything else. Green shields and the roads uprooted.
Brick and a big daguerrotype.
White gum and no streak of what a bus.
Trees and white slate
and angles turning into walls open, and a rocket comes through a smokestack,
This was my dream Dad I heard a saw the sound the truck makes, it's a billowing cloud in I don't know what else,
cinderblockchips
and pebbles .


Step off the ledge you wind up in an aquarium.

The ramp that is not a ramp because it's concasphalt. was so slick it couldn't be surmounted. The law of slipping down slopes., and no towrope.

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"The Papers of GW"
Koff ahem koff.

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Fraud and pest: a pestilential downpour of fraudulent frogs.

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THE SOMEONE STINKS SONNET

I never said broccoli. I said gallons, critters, is it all night if you don't throw the plank up? It's only when it will give you so sour. When the waiters uprise you're going to have to have that plank up, and out after a fashion. This is history, drawing air and smoke through a cracked window. Though the door, each door, each modern, contemporary door is sealed with rubber on aluminum. You wouldn't need a blanket to fan it out.

This isn't dredged up, but it should be. It's a-okay not to throw it up, but for a while to wend it away almost. Severly.

For a while I had a column in the Alert Martinet Sentinel, but another broke and it had to be taken out.

I can't believe this would be so useless. I don't know whether they're walking around. Smoke and mirrors beat the beef down into a crypt.

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Holding no vaporchasing truck but fallen in with devils. Thelly ca goddamnit, but I came here Lost the chase. & the echos.But then wheys it goddamn frevolving down in Spheres? Around a cut centre, which unkindly is.?
--Stackup Goodenough

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After I ate that I became heavy and shiny. It's stuck in my gut, look closely and you can see, "guaranteed educational". --R., multiplying & expended, but but but. But: That's exhaustion for you.

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Uh-oh, copocopo, that should be "Miz Velveeta", but keep it under wraps. If only, if okay, "1 bef,sanrdyunht fidreafspShid anythrut of n mg od tyi whchhedeedyds to fintnorknwardeot ht homs rda anythrut" then okay that's infamous, but, "of n mgyisat homs rty eoo w the walth,iven drmgyiso walth,iven p y. ld lly ailsasfron nde1w a; a" is a pooped ailing toady to me, and "t ben mf,sat homhAs if ths rty ehnts ss ol, , to w ds like erty eoo w than ae feds e the rd we cshist g s, s extee, and thes tith stslhedvalt homel hoshe thuauthorl," is laughing if "gnt ad!m mseitiSeddenedwrasinnthbe her i . B tsm s;.ufn ot seanths is hsnotoa ays at olt n wm i . Bufn ot thotoa ays at olt anride homel hoshe thuanweoid a t, the par" doesnt take the cake. But, "But in anride homel hoshe tn, nhuanweoialtd bd a t, the ut, thparBhdllal" and "rhi- inBut inan m pe was was as thThere's eaheion, tmkreilce se kr seryofrall huan hemrnegat! ya anen" go doward some juping jupiter head, while "erhalhat foethTtorbt of ivihouls" is methodus simplus and "Adspeapeikhere's a cli er W bythThere's hbwaOn'sag tw aeher haspect o fish, ts itanr the strawell. Herns M ana inulds," is barely working.

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I'd eat a broiled verse if I had to, velveteen, a sparkling lot of them if threatened, but I'd have to close my eyes, as pots and pans read bestsellers. Before the runt Sandy I fed the fire shipside, any thrust of which-deeds-he-did fainting through a dram of heaven. My SETI sabbath raised the bum-thousandth UFO session in this notation. I allied the sassfrond Nebelweiss in a coalshoveller's quarters, in case his thrifty soul were feeding on the wrong Christ-guessed word. And this steelhead vault home ocean of the author: gnats administer it. Days have aged. Funny to see women in the theater and ride the whole ocean humanward. But in the oceanride homeward, no human welds boat and hut, and the low spar sticks in a Buddha's butt. Over the riley roaring waves, humans their own homes negate. Earl Highhat, for the sake of the turbulent ivysouls, adds speech's peak to the clients' earways, to the ethereal aspects of fish itinerant in whirlwells, to manna-emitting herniae annulled.

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Just dropping by to say hello.

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EVern in if it will ousg youh into minneannapolis of some thing.

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slang for free work
typo = slang for free word

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I can olny say, n the Midwa y Brain Secotor, in the wwwords or Dr Cloisant Holland, th(at's Mister Pibb to you):

"It spittles, it swallows,
It tweedles, it sucks,
It's part of a Power of
Corporate Fucks."

& that's only half of it. He was the frickin pied piper, et cetera, not the communal league game private dancer, dancing for money, the triple beam off the Oslo jump. It's hard to hear it rite if you've got your trousers on. But before, see, link, that was the the (the one of the) pagest major of Chili. (or soI,m told by little birds)

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squabash skirmishers
disembrezoid
cherubine winds

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In keeping with the times, we give you today a little aphorism drawn from that sempiternal Messenger of Love, the Post Premium Raisin Bran box (italics ours):

TWO REASONS YOU'LL LOVE
POST PREMIUM RAISIN BRAN
CRISPY FLAKES and SUN-MAID RAISINS!

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It was, and I mean it when I say this: it was an ipecacoporous siropbottle & it devalued the yen.

It shoved off before us & how did it look? Like a burnt catsup cut underhand. It shoved off before us to put a division beside. It went off, and how did it feel? Like a witch burnt in a building.

It shoved off into the jetstream & took.

Some muggerplugger, he can't seem corrupt to them. Damn in the airport, the gripes. Trying to do them right.