Monday, April 29, 2013

Haustian Hilposts Recommence the Blaugong Elbow Paper Printing Regimes For Le Gouts.

Dear Fanny,
Poor Tom O'Bedlam has been so bad he has delayed the biscuit further.
Slime Molds diverged about 450 million years, and can navigate
mazes in order to access food, television, and other forms
of pre-digested media external to their bodies.
Their version of history is called "Haustia":
"We put the green back in books, suckah!"
-Tim Nubile, Execrable, Mass.

It's funny how deeply intelligible post-modernism finds itself to be, when an urn which loves the iron box might turn up ruling railways, appear to be a concatenation of final rectongular womens, the seven percent solution, a final solution, when all is resolved, every thing must patently purvey
the total intelligible effect of Generative Hod, mass blind pride, the dry angle with haptics engaged (for the wet cement). HIGH MASON TRAFFIC

Iceland: The dog shits from one end and vomits from the other, but in the middle
is a slowly digressing kitchen space, glass is recycled, and modernist living takes on its wonderful effulgent glow. there are aggregates of terms that seem like Termagates, the ancient philosopher of INK, inc.

Culture is fungal to that extent, through popularity it digests the partaker in media rites, creating an external bond with history as haustia, wate, wate, Utah, parturition, fruiting body, I sense deep ascapade, cape spade, wine and milk, rotten in the kleenex.
External digestion extracts capital response (rubber doll).

Ponce DeLeion would leitmotiv on, pebble on pebble on noddy bum.
Let the nucleus survey, they put the bolt through their head and scamdwitch between too boox.
Touch the pale blue arror of ist hissed course, let Eros beet purswey, let ewind
pallblu, vupinku, olmeida brazo rotinia.

Logic-stump. right in the middle of the sentence.
I pull out two Lucifers and try to make a match, but the sputtering ridiculous course of events prevents me further, I gasp out in the sulphurous SUR:
big reality / coining fresh mint, of course, lowered expectations for meaning or for man, exactly, remaining faithful to Poe, the turn inward, the "ACID GOTHIC"
of the continuing saga of the 20th Centaury.
Aleph, A love. Jazzm.

How do I stop the negative selections? Returtin. Returtle.
We turned turtle, "Elan".

A lass-pore, Yorick, I gave at the office, orifice, golden affiche, 
bummlet your school resemble oceans.
Bolide the hovering Arabdesque.
Anarchy not lawlessness, but a corruscant valley of tragecty oat lineum.

Klong Phuc Du. I searched the Ephrussi dynasty each day, until the exact descriptions of the netsukes appeared. A small TOE DOG in ear for saint grain golem MASTER, the little dog was smoking in the hushed twilight SAM.

Journey Through the Sun:
Ectoplasmic Tentacle Flute.

The voice (vouys) from its old immense, the door which was as longue, a long cylindrical claw or fang, the subterranean skull /its balconies overseeing vistas of darkness,
Boecklin in Gondwana's clayfoot paintbruishes.

Arbeopawrfulax: the blunt and disformed angel in its kiss of here-say.

I wish you wouldn't open up to me so much, Hypercelphax, Arcimboldo spake Zaraphrustan Munes, diorama dudeen we happy hilposts.

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Irrony Observes The Earthing.