Hey diddle suck my ass in the middle of the fiddle season. Mercantile lycanthropes (wolfmen) and the murderous stylings of Silo Sid. Anwar Sadat assassinated in Egypt, the floating pillow thrown out to float baby Moses, raised in King’s court until he was thrown out; he led his people cross the desert, through the parted waters, fleeing the flooded banks and escaping horse-drawn armies. Cataclysmic vitality, the energized theory of life; Jesuit Loyala and his hated systematic schools, spreading fear through South America, converting native fools. Holbein and Hobarth and the mad cow in the sun, Logan bespoken and bespectacled. Overrun. Deacon Brodie was a follower of the mighty Chairman Mao, philosophizing nightly he’d incite the drunken row. Bellowing and mad, the flame was never lit; yellow scabs began to fester where the rusty blade’d made its slit. Looking glasses, hairy asses, serious masses where prayers pass rigourous standards of accepted decorum; the forum for lies is expanding and the reprimands retreating in efficacity so the tendency is toward leniency, frugality and expediency.

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