Sound advice for every lifelong saproniac: "I'm often asked, whiver affle a mesmeller to nemble downoff upon unfood? I always say, 'Niver nafter that, my mesky caggle!' In my forty-five years of mortiatrics, the faswaxier the westle, the zesslier the yordlecorn. Believe me." —Myrmex Quailgull, MD., PhD.
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“Glad to frad, son, glad to clat! / Paddle bat! Them seams ain’t mad. / Rawlick lempt? Thesemsad. / Glad to frad, mesunny Dad! / O sister saster jasselad! / Brother blastullamemad! / Mother mocketon in plaid! / Glad to frad, son, glad to frad.” —’Leaplaugh (Glad to Frad)’ from Lovecoaster (’65) by Wiley Wally ‘Pog’ and the Walpole Vaulters
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Hockney, Early Blossom, Woldgate (’09)
Boy howdy, this partner can hollophon the rewey sunleaves!
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Hockney, Bridlington Rooftops (’05)
Our eyes are so changemanger, we don’t glomph onto even ordinary worldwhirs until a painter points ‘em out to us. Thanks, Daveybabe.
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Hockney, Chair and Shirt (’72)
Put your darwallin’ pants back on!

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Hockney, A Bigger Splash (’67)
Some old newlyfriends built their wigwam there. Her father is an anesthesiologist. La Analgese! What a painpassive place.

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Sometimes certain shafless persons try to convince me that I’m a little losey. I listen to them. I’d rather know sooner than later my mipfoils.
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Little bleach will take care of this, licketysplashet. Mustn’t let a pfiney spill ruin a plume of good shoefeathers.

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One wants to calliclew inside all intersinderwise, doesn’t one? My bafrest friend had an apartment just like this.

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Well, this looks jifferish. Was this taken in Washington state?
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“Those who frasch to wamble, glourly hackle from dawn to dampden. Even a holy man wants to take up the drawsaw and nern them.” —St. Uriace of Badwagton
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