🚀 go-pugleaf

. . . (digression (digression ends:) ends:) here.  Though the
whole may be sumptuous, that there "aussi" was a trifle
presumptuous: tes yeux, though undoubtedly to the disinterested
if myopic observer beaux, I never scribed as [hearted]: this
blatant omission despite the bleached core that I'd marry you
any day of the week, if only to misstirr up and dishevel a few
mysteries, any of which, in predictable cul-de-sac circularity,
would, how carefully soever answered (except the malappropriate
way I want it), warrant a No No NO! to the formal plainsong of
"do you take this um mollusk to be yr awfully wedded etc etc?",
leaving self seulfull sic as ever.  "And, half an hour later,
when she changed her mind and decided she'd have him after all,
it was <mournful ditty on xylophone> Too Late.  Shot of clerk
stamping "CANCELLED" over dowry cheque and fade-out."  A Tuesday
would, like I say, be best, as that's when I hedge my bets and
harvest my allergies, but one must not appear uncompromising:
perhaps you're busy on Tuesdays, perhaps that's when you cut out
yr coupons or retune yr radio or mentally redecorate yr landing
or readjust the curvature of yr toast-rack, and I wouldn't wish
to, y'know, intrude, lest I'd have any slips in yr wellbeing on
my cold cold hands.  Accidentally, I do [fish] t.b.y., and all
manner of Armenians shall be Loving The Alien [ref. EA195] if only
Till Tuesday [ref. F13579] which most certainly does not ever count
(digression:) correction: nothing to do with anything has sir velma
(& I never said he did), at least not until we find out Where He
Stashed The Gold (details of bank robbery omitted here for security
reasons), to which end self and Brian Nielsen (pleasant, confiding,
engaging, upright chap) gather on window-ledges and discuss ways to
break Vincent of his taciturnity, moroseness even: alas, no joy.

H.