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Penelope Cholmondely raised her azure eyes from the crabbed scenario. She meandered among the congeries of her memoirs. There was the Kinetic Algernon, a choleric artificer of icons and triptychs, who wanted to write a trilogy. For years she had stifled her risibilities with dour moods. His asthma caused him to sough like the zephyrs among the tamarack.
Blog Archive
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2009
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December
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- Hi, Atus
- Jason and the Argyle Knit Socks
- TS Elliot Writes Books For Me
- It's Christmas, Damn It
- In Which Our Hero Replaces Banter With Youtube Links
- I could, if I wanted. If I followed aseptic proced...
- Oh My Godddddd
- I-I-I-I-I do what I want (and I want you)
- WRITING THE SAME ESSAY WRITING THE SAME ESSAY
- WRITING AN ESSAY WRITING AN ESSAY
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December
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About Me
- Griffin
- Arcata, California, South Georgia & South Sandwich Islands
- one eyed two eyed mad screamer
1 comment:
"I have just eaten 3/4ths of a pound of pear jellybeans in a day. I'm out of jellybeans and I'm out of hope. All perish here."
YOU MEAN- DO YOU MEAN, ALL "PEARISH" HERE? IS THAT WHAT YOU MEANT HAHAHAHA?
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