Wednesday, December 24, 2008

Valences, meantime

Qu’est-ce que c’est loosy goosy?

Proust is not a verb, he Prousts, he Prousted, they Proust. One cannot say, "She attempted to Proust his robust clipping on a day when the hoarfrost stimulated the overhang", and vicey-versey, acey-deucey, loosy-goosy. Valences, meantime, is suffering. Do not feed or water Valences and by no means should you contribute to telemarketing campaigns that may, in fact, befront Valences. Shoes make the man, the man shods the horse, and shoos ingredient the fly pie. Pastries are less and less what they purport to be and more so what I'll term "Monomaniacal Strategies." One must take precautions when attending a huddle of pastry chefs lest one succumb to its dogma: A pie in the safe, a safe in the antechamber, an antechamber of the mind. You could term the mind a subset of the gray matter or you could think of it as the collective Take Offense, mind you. The Heed. Let "X" equal "Variance" then rewrite all your mathematical primers. There is a chance, afterall, that The Prophet will arrive, and by "arrive", I mean the impossible. It's not that we, as a culture, will witness "Opposites", in that event, but language will vary to such an extent that we will require algebra for point-of-sale transactions. It will not mutter if you batter yourself or matter yourself it will not butter. The Valences will come on then, and by "come on", I mean blue you, so with that in mind, go forth and affection the ills of the ilk, bebother, beblather, belove.

Thursday, December 18, 2008

Whirreds to the Whys

When Creme Is Not Enough

The new defibrillators restart the heart and uncover the lies, as well. You can't expect to suffer a heart malady and conceal an untruth any longer. The World War II era Germans considered -- briefly -- world domination of breakfast foods, almost naming their secret police the Waffles S.S. Pancakes everywhere shivered in their griddles, but for a typo, some shivered in their girdles, some women found petrified toastcakes in their bloomers. Lord forbid a greater typo -- the girdle cake -- but why not offer shortstacks in the stacks? Pancakes amidst the musty volumes, as it were, if only our librarian entrepreneurs showed some spine. Why is it such a big deal to sell a seat, I've sold a chair, I've bought a chair, I'm a chairman, in that I seat myself, I chair, I prefer to swivel or recline. A charwoman, on the other hand, cleans the flue, proving that there's a fine line between sitting and dirty politics, Mr. Blog Goy of Itch, Mr. Income Bent. Cherub dub dub, three angels in a tub, or rhymes you'll never hear again, and never did. Saying "The Rime of the Ancient Mariner" is like saying "The Grime of the Ancient Grammarian" or "The Lime of the Ancient Librarian." Speaking of which, Citrus is the greatest marketing device since The Great Diversification. I mean, GM, Ford, and Chrysler have been selling Lemons, successfully, for years. Barnum & Bailey considered -- briefly -- running a Citrus instead of a Circus, no rings but rinds, instead, causing Lion Tamers and Loin Teamsters, alike, to shiver in their bouts. With regard to bouts, had the Poultry rumbled with the Samoyeds, you'd've then had the Chickens on the Spitz, whereas true Hybridity is an inebriated wedded woman, a wet dame, so to squeak.

Wednesday, December 10, 2008

The Consequences Are Offal

To Overestimate the Saw. To Underestimate the Emergency.

Awful can be Awe Full while Offal is a Circuit, as in a Troupe of Performers from Lesser Bulgaria who lament the virtues of Cowguts au Poivre. Bulgarian officials once pontificated a national name change from "BOOL-gary-UH" to "Pineapple" and a national anthem, hence, that began, "O Pineapple / I opine for thee / I pine for thee / O Pineapple." Emergencies may include Deprivations but are not limited to the Extremities and do not, in general, require Handsaws and Clobber Mallets, unless the Emergency is related to a Derailment, in which case, everyone should don his or her Clobber Mallet, and speak his or her mind without any inhibitions. I was last struck by a Clobber Mallet in the Millennium, and by "struck", I mean moved, physically, by skid steer loader. Back in the days, that is, when a little Despair used to be good for you. "I'm prescribing a little Despair," the doctor would say, whilst scribbling furiously in his Rx pad, then the patient trooped across the boulevard to Woolworth's and sucked down a few Eggcreams while the pharmacy fulfilled the prescription: A Little Despair Twice Daily Take with Bonbons or Dilly Creme. According to legend, Isaac wanted to beget a son named Isau because he believed in Tradition, namely, that the name-bearer would saw, proudly, himself, rather than be Esau, who would saw electronically, on the Internet. Instead of begot, Isaac forgot, and begat a spat with Jacob, who ate the pottage and minded the cottage, until he was cot age, and slept in the Mudroom. "Du tout," say the French. "Do toot," say the Dealers. Which is a Circuit, as in a Troupe of Performers from Lesser Bulgaria. For all we know Confusion may be our salve, and the associated religion, Confusionism, may be benevolent. Desireable, even, in an auto-erotic kind of way, you know, the arousal we all feel at the sight of the Clunker, the combustion of the petroleum. It is Aweful if it is Offal, it is Awe Full if it is Awful, it is Offal if the light dawns on the nation-state of Pineapple, and its armed forces, sporting Hawai'ian Pizzas on their Epaulets, storm the Taverns, the Caverns, the Houses of Multigrain Toast Cakes.

Saturday, December 6, 2008

Decline in the Jaws

11. Thou shalt not blame thine Economy for all thy Failures.

When the Deer Tick bit the Heretic in the Arctic, it was the Deer Tick that suffered a chilly Apostasy. The Heretic, meantime, applied an Epoxy to his Piety, his devotion, that is, to baked dishes which feature savoury ingredients. To cure its economic ills the U.S. Government ought to encourage more Savouring, hugging one's self, in essence, whilst beaming a beatific smile. Left alone, Demand Side Economics will default to the Ultimatums of Old Tomatoes. The Seventh Day Dentists believe in the filling of cavities, offshore drilling, and looting the billfold -- on Sundays. The Great Gingiva, himself, awards the highest honour, the Plaque of the Holy Molar, to that Seventh Day Dentist who seeks the Lucrative Path to the Wisdom Teeth. The earth, meanwhile, faces not only The Greenhouse Effect, but the loss of its vast and valuable Carbonated Waters. These waters have gone flat in recent years, threatening our Soft Drink, beloved Cola, thereby imperiling all Cost Of Living Adjustments. Households may have to switch to Hard Drinks, instead, nails in a bucket of water, or Graceless Drinks, abusers of which often end up in the hospital, in The Awk Ward. Skeptical? Consider the case of the "escort" who received no formal training before going on that first call. A real Layperson, as it were. "Next!" shouts the Clerk. "Next!" shouts the Cleric. For these are the days that fjord the very trickle.