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.
New York Valence Tribune:
ReplyDeleteBecome immortal and then fry cook..
That monosucrostic Prophet's a proustabout in sugared marshmallow relief: a Peep, polarizing the breathless.
The antechamber of the mind contains the antichamber secreted in the breast of the Vice Ace Deuce of Loose Goose, versed in all manner of variance.
The Loosy Goose? You should clear that with the The Goose, the The Prefect. Meantime, the lousy goose was just a pinch gone awry, the prodigal goose, as it were. ---------------------------BA
ReplyDeleteThe lousy goose: in the winter, a sort of tipping, careening south toward Senor Froggies, toward Cabo.
ReplyDeleteLibation migration and the winter's the pine and lacquer.
The wild mare drinks from a river in Cabo: the soussed moose runs into a tree. The mare runs, the moose chugs.
Just as long as no one gets Proust in the Caboose, then we're ok--
ReplyDeleteEmails about life, jazz, poetry, raccoons in the attic, life: good.
Emails about Proust in the Caboose: bad.
Does that make Feb. 15 Valence-times Day?
ReplyDeleteIt'll make ya joos-ay.
-Valence au juis and a whipped proust caboose for sipping.
ReplyDelete-A side of jazzed racoons.
-Gadfly pie for dessert.
as The Boy That Had Created the Disturbance, I concur. -----------------------------------BA
ReplyDelete