Prude Juice Their talk was riddled in code. An electric clock tocked. The tics had eloped with the tacs. No one gave a flying fart; prouder Anglo- Saxon barred by chastity belt. It was time to be off to the Heretic Dutchman for sane retreat. No white whale beckoned with beef hooked. Bud was no wiser brewers' droop no pleasure now beer was fresh out of fuggy muggy Irish talent with clarity no longer a pint of plain behind the welcome of an opened pub door firmly shut against the rain of English summer talk of the ball swinging to Indian rout and Tendulkar renamed Anderson's Bunny limping home short of the hundred hundreds. A screw turned the name of a good one barred by prissie privvy lit with prude not worth dousing with filtered beer. Take the famed trip round a portrait traced in Dublin streets by the artist as a young man and read the words that must not be spoken adding you and what a hat pin used in several angers makes. I have loved you all in my distance keeping it in the phrase not with someone else's preferring more honest company of the pub whore content I'll listen and buy liquid compensation for what others think she's for a good one of and I reserve for the smart nob at the crease chin begging for the ball's tune to bring him down a peg before shaping one edged to slip and safe hands for the gleaming cherry. The player always good one's the gentleman turning gentle man himself finding a professional down-at- heel having to take the profane in the sacred to feed her habit. The shame is in barring words when mannered world exploits with charm language truly rotten from those who get nice and warm seeing the lights in the castle. Go Joyce yourself.
On Sep 18, 4:25 pm, gabbydott <[email protected]> wrote: > <http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/2/2a/Dissent_develops_d...>
