"All the Hues
That Fit, We Tint"

Siberia, USA: Today, global warming. Tonight, dark, unless you count the stars. Tomorrow can be reached via time machine. Yesterday, who can remember that far back?

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Sunday, September 17, 2006

 

Thoughtspells: Audiopium Gig

SET ONE

Anodized Rainbow and Lubadub, walking through the forest

... said, "Let me wear your feather crown"

-- Got some sassy intel for ya -- just trainride a whistle

This is where subway people go to show off, to make no-go, to burrow sub rosa

Lie in a hammock and get the whole big contingent

Rock me to the star sapphires

Rotoscope band, play red in the sun

Strategy:
Rinse dark
Rinsed ark

Stringent Swinburne, skin burn

Swing dolomites, wah-wah

Induction of the specific nodes of conquest

When Dan lent a plan, then Fran began

Caméllias, la dame, destitute in the arms of the sham-painter

Strut the pillow d'ram, Polonius Malceste

Linguidina

Proper banter is in the raim'yard, where the hard fist pops the crop of an anopheles

Liqui-danger, liquid anger

Jetwork in the undertawn, spawn collective drive, jive

Shape, shake, shave

Poetameter

Hexfight, the Mexican squares dance

Tip o' the pip, top o' the popcat

Growing up Gröpius

When the birds get in the omnipresence, sign off, mellow gametes

She fell down in the Louis chairs exordium

Primopodal mord phalangiasts

Strain it without strain

A yellow policeman coughed in the (ringing) coffers, make me anoffer

Thus thrust, trust crust

Flout flue, elegant sasquatch

You had to bead air, and be part of the come-aparty

Uppance gets clearance

What is your tight rate? Night rate, drive straight on the bootway

Dr. Pheel, get your grumble on, crumble on the lawn. Chain he, in the grainium

Doting on spools, but they must be blew, Baba-Lou

Perfunctorium, mission bells in the joss-hells

Dr. Pinkov, we have a fortnightly inspection of chillraus

Gaganiferous

Drain the d-rain, D Train (Dietrich, in de rain, Cole-King strain)

SET TWO

-- We're coming out of tongue season.
-- Does that mean we're gonna be happy all the time?

Give me the limpid wares

D'Jongg Street, the sweet delete

Crump-dumpin', be slumpin'

Dragger through the wet haze

Space-spin the lace pin, Mace Irwin got in the place of a tumtum bellyroll

Trace, far off, the sounds of a longtown trickle

The hanger's on. A little creative fur meant he could -- if the ultimate safety catch played its game with the latch -- that the shoeshine avenue had no redress

Columnar billtone: When we stayed in the dark, we caught no one

What did you buy? Lateral symmetry?

That raft came through, because it moved from one place to another

Shyboots caught slyboots taking care of the spy boots

Ryan knew better than to e-mail his cousin with the bad news, but he proceeded anyway. His foot had a fluffy white bandaid on it, where they'd put his new self in. Cousin Richter answered at once, demanding to know how he'd forgotten the pattern overload

Snakes come whether you like them or not, to the Biz R

Nobody expects the Garden of La-La to be comfortable

Scrambled consonance with caterpillar waivelengths

Your portrait is expired. Your passepartout, sitar'd, retired

Tread me out of this stingnation. Gringa, so terrible, I will callium out of the zoo

The jam pulsated in strange places, like honey with bubbles, globularemous

An orange thought from the ego landscape

I was so Golders-Green you couldn't cook at me anymore

What if they started drying the terminator?

Exit blue, stage bereft

Why cry some, white chrysostom?

I find your tranquility strange, considering the obloquium

Race you to the next banquet, tree

I'm trapped in here, with an appearance of noise

Stuck in the jam brand

I don't really think we want anyone of those -- wet rascals, with these unwanted caverns

I dub thee "strangers"

Another late knight came curling up from Innisfree

Make your own muse. (Ich?)

Papa dumb, das ist ein crane stick

Deezundoze

A little free cheese'll freeze your weasel, breeze'll please your diesel

Shake the sugar off the brat poise, farmament

Turn, in the middle of a memoir

If I tried to describe them, I would fail my overtone test

I wouldn't miss your dicing for the whirl

I spend most of my time in the withers (shoop shoop)

Paradiddle, the Groff panegyric

Skiddle-omphatic