🚀 go-pugleaf

The psycadramatemathematics that give shade to 20 degrees worth
are not near enough.  Now, you'd once again place me sideways
by the road, divining-deceiving booth at hand, and allow me, a
mere charlatangent churl to yr better times & better things to
do, to mountebank at least the Future (Escape To) if not the
Past (Escape From) in the name of clarity's rites and Lapsed
deems during hours of austerity (Escape Route, Box 760, @UEA,
Heaven or Hell, make yr pick).  Should I aim higher in my loft-
expressed gaol goals?  The women in the storied fablieux might
at least provide a rationalefaction (or so she said.) to make
certain that, come 9.00 GMT, I'm (not you, I'm sure of this)
standing beneath a windowry panearest-of-all practicing my
serenaiding of the Darling. pretext.  Given the literallons-y
choice, I'd have to say "*where*".  "*Where*"?  (She still, I
think, believes this to be all mere shadow-play; I, she thinks,
merely wish to tadpole-vault in performative indelible
indelicacies as a passant whim.)  And yr confusing yr apposites
again, H; JS spoke in dwelloquent over-coated-tones of
flavoracious acts, be they of God for looking over one's
shoulder or of carnallocating Di-Et for sexploratory
purposelves, picked up in: "Stew in my own juice / In a another
kitchen" -- as the song says, [jellyfish] dais in wait.  Bored?
Hushed?  My %other% Gaelic ex-fiance was somewhat misrused, and
it was you who spoke of bother        bother, so any and all
                               bother
manichean manifestations are not my fault except insomuch as
everything is my fault.  Darling, The Enemy Edible Indeed, a
concoction I wouldn't have expected you to made, forsooth and
for all time.

M