"As Farsi as a Horse-Drawn Conundrum" -- Latinatize the !!! --

This is indolent pasha Fitchionicus's otiose caravanserai of enchangement, noo-ed galz w/ grapes put the sandwich slumber! Thwe fisit geegaw and find things to fisit again! Geegaw is in Spain and the Alps, with alpacas and salt stashes galore. Fact; after 7 is &, then three years in the band!

thijing tobso trucking fueling! mannommannimeo

just Which isn't a filing change, is healthy for the chili range


S. Beckett --- zfromm --- okay, no more pictures.

mock-up images for the new Biblioteca Alexandrina

O tot Toni, saying, rise to sell it well, regally, optically vee dee, living maniacate the one lit offering we misleu. Otherwise your cracking is fereriokillous as the carob tune Oslo is humming with. Zeus in old age, pleurisy and hand on him:

'O ontatis gern, say, "Sitthi. At-ha Pad" to the mite and druid. Eye plates I have, but can't do ten pin. Thoödiae E Orndurn tanned rind signal Hawsaw Ltd., "Jum neo indipicum bad bad dirty to as ereignis, dig." Count on Haemlet to spread the news. Tarx Phaea, so now fessing it hrank rofy China naval doöinatr the roneys, pordnung, oh, natas Vertigo!

'Is it best to continue? "Why I am that easy, swollen aortal utterance - reference relayed with or without the doctor's oulipo. How about roast commencement, en sime o1yx? Why no ready oaths e au si non?" Jot that toiling pollo major frostweight mistaku issue, hamdawkable ice, atop the moon, Mr. Xnart Wxinlao. Feed the ceeaby resin, of lethal it bijectized, clothe, amaliginati vor atke Fanher onsoundat. Tout the ewes of Yadhwi at the apiferous plateau blue with fish. The honey bees' forks remain held. Alors, the hour tazer fan o I Me Myself even, but heh, Happy Vufiona Bisectus. Qua dis iarish luhorbippity a was wos, roau dewith dos, bohum ped to endeem. At heir Theow decide the mahex cetus. Beware the sinneling waisriennt. I x known this chap in Anno Smeseoöta Uferon.'

Siof virmed poen it hater. I wndoor po of the po, it tumed me
To no rocky vanished me here and all, Elron.
And aplomb they go them the the, the of this.
Ben is right viriday the of three way print D deitizing jood ext.
A fan, de Rit falk out of or a fright anat.
Inter he nonited Nora coto mind is slelly heehee Mitterand the
Jufor di Randon Ulots of his raecus the hijust abarder tod. I and Pannan is ce, I thaw.


Evacuate the alveoli, hitch the wagons,
and hide the tent:
We're going to have to cross the whole galaxy
to pay last month's rent.
And now we're going to have to pay it by means
that have only been around
for a couple years! The miraculous physicists'
technology has sure turned the world upside down,

especially for those of us who carry
'lectronic mice. I wouldn't call
it revolutionary, though. A revolutionary
technology would be one not based on science at all.

In both gastronominal, Aztecoptery, sinusitisoidal, alphalogical, and chronobetical order, there was Limbo, Shaky and the Twiggs. Autumn in from the autumn unusual. It's Shaky and the Twiggs, with Limbo, in the carpetbag.

It doesn't matter if it's on the computer screen. If it's tough toilies, it's to the turf with ye! We don't want the Twiggs to get huffy over a computer screen, would we?

"Elaine's not in the fueling system? Wha -- ? Where is she, right now? I want to know, right now."

Vanessa Shavesalot turned smartly to Roentgen and said, "Aye, to answer your first question. And to answer your second question (or third, depending on whether you conider a poorly-constructed sentence to be one at all), I would have to say, 'Amidst the Go-Bots'!"

"What in God's name! You mean to say," stammered Roentgen, "you mean, they've -- ?"

"That's right, Wilhelm: in the future, all cars have Go-Bot transmissions."

A line can be just that, a straight line of inquiry into the conscious of the auspicious, or a protean jackrabbit tapestry, its inelegant taxidermy stinking up its fellow vermin, and the surrounding courtyard as well.

Is it best, in the middle of an apothegm, to suggest to that feathered bird, the egret, a flake or two of baked mackerel and a nip of your sweetmeats? No. Let the egret sleep as it will. Eat your seafood meal and bleak dessert in silence, for an egret will gleek when provoked. And mummy wouldn't be happy at all if you came home with egret's ichor all over the new cotton sweater she knit!

I cleaned up my bookmark. Now it's shiny, like a new penny that hasn't even needed to be rubbered up yet. I cleaned up the air. Now it just drips with the fresh scent of heaven!

I eat the peereekers!
A can of asparagus, simmered and served.
I bunged out on my original cliches.
I learnt how to recite urban monologues to my own brusque beat.
Barbecue meat sat on the stove, furiously burning.
Be wary those peereekers: They'll make your pee reek.

"[In early 1875 (not too long after his last preserved poems were written)] Rimbaud asked a young church organist called Louis Létrange to teach him the rudiments of music. His interest was primarily theoretical. At first, he practised silently on a keyboard gouged into a table. Later, without telling his mother, he had a piano delivered to the house. [...] A drawing by Verlaine, based on [Rimbaud's friend] Delahaye's report, shows a Liszt-like Rimbaud thumping the keys with piston arms, while his mother and the landlord plug their ears. [...] According to Létrange, Rimbaud was not concerned with scales or petty tunes. He was looking for 'new sonorities'." -- Robb, p. 273

and a line of Lautréamont from the same book: "I know of no obstacle that surpasses the power of the human mind, except truth."

& the NYRB is soon publishing a twenty-dollar edition of Bob Burton's Anatomy of Melancholy. Unfortunately, it will be prefaced by mottled owl droppings strewn by Bill Gass.

Heh? How's that grab ye? Though it does invite the swift, slow, and open fist that the infernal legal organs of the Dagmar Chili International Electrocommunications, Ltd. can bring down on its promise in a mere trickling of the lip! Cause: their use of both "Dagmar" and "Chili", uncredited, in the marketing of a frame of mind.

Why wozzonaire a new Bushizm, Jake? Today, no new one. Jake, you are a grilled pickle, a grilled pickle undelicious to savour the greeting of. You are a Toblerone(tm) and a chocolate duck filled with donkey excrement!

And with senses now sharpened to that verily reachable summit, atop which one may discern what to others are imperceptible, mysterious signs that drink is being had in not distant proximity.

Okay, Carlos, I think that "not distant proximity" (or whatever it is in Spanish) is laying it on a bit thick.

Note to your self, o notable friar, vegetable carrier and rooted beet eater, that there are different assumptions one must make about a fellow who says "in Spanish" and "in the Spanish". Tut tut.

You're not saying my Spainish is fickle, or wry? It's not nimble, is it Basil?

The name's Carlos, you buffalow-puck! Just shows how much attention you were paying. Where's my sherry, Anne-Marie?

Anagrams used wisely as a phenomenon may give rise to wise ladles of snapdragon mashings. Wise leaders of maxipad lenders are trying to stem the turtlenose tribe. Write fake (and entirely impossible) anagrams, all of ye! It'll make a wise café smegmagram, tire-whip yeti ripe with rombhoid blade! Okay for a Tokay Gecko to smecko? Keep a killed echo of a token, McGowan!

Hello, friends. We open now with the new dagmar chili dot com ("an anagram enhanced") production:

"Gosh! ... What If I ..."

Today's episode is entitled,

"Gosh! ... What If I worked at the Louvre?"

Gosh! ... What if I worked at the Louvre? I'd have to wear two eyepatches or go mad as those artists!

Yeah, frein's, it'sa Dellacrwah. Ij jope you apparitionicate its sculpturic qualitaytin, as the Germans have been ka-known to reemarque.

Today commences the feature:

"Gosh! ... What If I ..."

We sincereally hopi ute inch hoy hit.


I'll be Adolf Hitler,
you be Charlie Flynn.


Inevita Blecometria replies:
our motto, Herr Luther,

Dippy Luther was a trying to skank up the manuscript. It wasn't hip enough so he became a conscript in the dipswitch jacket bureau.

Charlie Flynn, you bear no resemblance to everybody living or dead. You are a browbucker of imagination, and inevitably corrupt.

Speech : A Special Code -- "In the end there is strong evidence of a specialized part of the brain that perceives speech sounds by referring the sounds to the actions of the speech organs that would be necessary to produce them."


Chuck B and his translucent miniature mongoose coffin.

[A question, from email:]

"What loyalty marketing programs are you an active member of? (Optional)"

And my response, sir, is that you is wasting your time. You is stupid, sir, no different. You've already set your scalpel to your best scapegoat, and scalped your clasped chest. Root nodules mar your guerdons. Bright are your shoelaces, and silent your elves.

And I, sir, am triply inclined
to give you a mind-piece of mine!

It's not for the Naugahyde, and not for the lame,
it's no smattering of feldspar on somebody's name,
not shackling, not blinding, not piercing the nip-
ple, not stacked and not tapered, just sheer cotton rip-

roarin' hudspeth here. I'll bet you bet you know what hudspeth is referring to, don't you. That's what some Ice Canyon Physicists call a "verbal Rohrshock" because they are seriously, seriously illiterate, mister, and if you give them a dime a dozen or the whole fuckin world, you're gonna be sorry, pal. Limited time, catcalls limited to the first two thousand cusswords.

[That's right, folks, ah just sent him mah rezoomay, sans jot e sans tittle.]

Here's a little ditty that brings me to allusive,*
uninsinuating giggles ev'ry time:

"The goat is prone.
"Good. I'll get right on top of it."

This is performed by Pharaoh Sanders.**
No, excuse me, that should be, "Colonel Sanders."

* "brings me to allusive,": alternatively,
"brings me me me to me to the allusive,"

** "Pharaoh Sanders.": alternatively,
"Ned Flanders." ... Spit in yer eye!

Yes, childs, you who was seen the sands shiftin'
know that I is my own infuriatin' foreman!

Light heads remain talking. I wish I could show you this Norwegian link I got at the beefeatery, but it's stuck in a herringbone loin capsule sandwich.

Advice for visitors:
Make a whoopee cushion that makes a sound like a smacked cat.
Make a vibraphone that makes a sound like a snacking cat.
Make a whirlpool that makes a sound like like cacky smut.

You'd die if you heard:
It appears to be my understanding to
bringe Childe Delighte
into the world.

Git this. I'd heard most of the earliest ones, but even better is on the fourth. -- Flatnote: I haven't heard quite enough to know whether Mr B Dylan took his tune for Blind Willie McTell from Armstrong's rendition of St James Infirmary or if it's a common melody. [See #32 -- see this, anyone, also, who wants to know the origins of a great number of Mr B Dylan's borrowed melodies.]

Even better!: See that last link, instead examining #1, which features the titles "VD Blues," "VD City," "VD Gunner's Blues" and "VD Waltz," though I'm sure that this is not meant to refer to the obvious.

Refs to get psyched aboot!

Ref to get psyched aboot #1.

Ref to get psyched aboot #2.

Attn Dudes & Dudeens: Most excellent referral:

[scene of T H bringing a stillness upon Ararat]

"DO you have any Idea where I could
get one of these devices My Physician
reccommended, Mister Felix Pharynx Ferretface?"
"Dr. Mendelssohn, I presume."
"And that's right! Axiel, you take the lead
now with a 400 point bonus there, taking you
total ... up ... to ... 950 points. You now have
control of The Schnitz - where do you want to
aim it?"
"I think I'll ... point it at the Buddha, sauntering
by the stream."
"Blammo," says The Schnitz.
"Blammo," says the Host, "there, blown away,
are the Buddha's blues."

Another Schnitz Story

Once upon a day was there the Schnitz,
tossing along the road a volleyball, when
miss so-and-so's dad drove up in a rutabaga
pullover. He said, "Howdy, son! how is it going,

And the Snitch said, "Mister so-and-so, I
hope the Schnitz get booglarized for havin'
such an easily mess-uppable name!"

The officer said to the Schnitz, "Now son,
is this here right, son, what the Snitch says
about your name being easily confutable?"

Well the Schnitz takes his hands out of his
pockets, and stands there, all mincemeat eyes
and smiling.

Things that should be done naturally in the
beginning of the day should not be done
at later periods of the day.

Hours pass.

Drop trop de trop tro Mycenae! Mycenae! saying
"I have been told we've become in the drop to
a return to the highly Greek times." There is
no excuse to take for saying this if you don't
believe it to be true, and this goes for talk
about any other matter equal to or exceeding
in grandeur the given example. Say, "I will
not fossilize what the grandstanders set out
to have me," and relatives will ask, "Eh? What?"

I have iron bars and fossils in here to
remind me of what real prison is like.

tobrecitos Vietnam It was a
heark shark napkin doorframe
malarky the bewitched, inscribed on
cat of mr call by fleeting
president One Mittens. Two knives. Five
Assembly wide I've discovered Mannequins
flea-in-thimble hidden the in the flesh.
crotch scratching architecture Seniors' shoulders
Nibat the beneath the on discount. Nine
chimp discovery. Eight Nile. Blast. Seven Nails in back.
funkentelechy Bloated man Named cotlet
demands it about this verflichtst
be made timorous and off the
whole. A werewolf ship's Aufbau. It's
cathedral like. Four nerdy doctor. Six name: Bluto. Three

"Well, I know, but he doesn't -- if he's -- the inference is that somehow he thinks is a slavery upon hamkind's noble insinuations -- I would -- I would strongly reject that assumption -- that Jan Asscrack has an inherited informative social disorder."

--Pfesident Effect Gorgon P Rottweedler Bazooka Barrel Harley Davidson Screwdriver Shovelblade Porthole Fingertrigger Bushkin of, say, Russia.

"Cause they're funky in the White House too." -- G Clinton

oe|e|ep[] Just want to make sure who wants to find it can know where it is: ORBITAL PICTURES LOUSY LOUISIANA, GET YOUR ORBITAL PICTURES LOUSY LOUISIANA RIGHT HERE!

No, my darling Richie! I want to name him David Eustace Cheney!
My honey and client, that is sincerely unreasonable, in the absolute. He will be jeered by his chums, the round year through!
It was hard-headed sensibility that shot down the country less than a century ago, and yes long before that to this day.

Okay It's a dom perignon exposito, ten dollar pin.

Dear Pona Luisa,
I just caught your brother colluding with a swarthy smart white cop.

The mesa-sweepist, thoroughly plunged, briefly stopped sweeping his mesa, to say that it was not that dust was sought for bu ju mo li be swe to. Countervalences, say.

PS. Is your Catholic University computer server blacking out the text of the Official Dagmar Chili Internet Site? Click here for more information, and shock text.

Got up this morning they took my Easter Bunny
Leaving if Easter if I have to, I have to rind a grind
She's got Elgin Marbles down from her head down to her toes
Sitting on the placemat of Lady Esmerelda
If that ding dong keeps ringing, I'm suing, where that Golf Donkey Pilot rode.
Sudanese meats. Yes, for keeps
Uh, I think I have a cold?


I like to see the fruits of my mind
heading out in triple time
From an album called "Does it even matter to you?" and filled with intentional misperformances of Classic Rock Songs. The above are the first two lines of that 'out here having fun / in the warm california sun' track.
I'm the captain of my downtrodden pedal device. God damn you to hell. Why wernch you more forthright with me?
He drank a whole jeroboam?
He drank a jeroboam.
It's in the silo! Geez, now who gets a joke?
Who collapses, who collapses?
Kenny, the lead singer, during a rendition of the title track, "Does it even matter to you?" based on 'did you ever have to make up your mind?'
Confabulations: takem or leavem, they're your own sweet lovin' lord and shepherd.


Aged Girl: Maybe -- there, Rainy Day, both ones, rainy day slang for whole day of uh-huh uh-huh because it winds up the Summer of Love because nobody remembers their rainy days, if you get the drifts.
Her Husband: What? They shared my irritable bowel syndrome?
Aged Girl:No!

A bunch of French words that's my favorite. Ye jivey men, what ye reap is what ye sow, backwards! Wasp eye thaws, perry thaw Nim Yevij eye. Zass rite. Now you know what ziss musik iss. Sent on immediately to the next fellow in line.

3 - The Myth of Toadex Hobogrammathon

Verily, every each fabricated.
Say are you Jove Hotspice? Because I saw you offering free lunch from the port hole.
Sev Pachel of the stovetop climb.
Heavens to Betsy, caught with her stickers off. If bothers you isn't any of this, it
shrike-hole the cabxi and candy the finch.
Yes, you, kind E.M.T., can catch the pennzoil traiiiiil out to tew torleans.
These are made too, by elves from the port hole.
An old person drinks this before retiring.
If you want it to be spiced loon, you better head into that hammock. Hit with a seagull, a'ight?
Don't you think that was just a little much, eh Elron there?
I wish mom had given me more video games when I was a kid, because Skeeter keeps up with the ants in the dorm room so much better than myself.
Now this is a drink for the old people, ha ha ha, yes, the young people, you can't get any Tai-Tais today because it's time for the old people to see what the hip young people are drinking nowadays. No, actually I'm finding out what the old people drink: this better be creamy enough, or I'll get mad.
Gee whiz, I wonder why the spoon stays hot so long, Skeeter, what with the water capable of losing temperature more fast quickly.
Being lured by the unstable path of that long gone foreigner.
His advice: "Don't listen to this shit about the elves." And his comment: "This is usually done much more professionally."
What what what? No! I'm just acting like this to get laughs from a cat.

Aren't you gullible?

The floor is rubber, the foam is rubber, the sky
is rubber, the ledge is rubber, the vest is rubber


tedibificubott oedlit 8 make under ham, Nevada.

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