I am too timorous to partake in escapades of any kind; instead I practice philately with an edacity that is the envy of every collector I know.
Dr. Zweig was always turgid but often full of vagueries; for example, he would say, in a voice far from susurrant, "Orthography is VERY important so you don't confuse vagueries and vagaries!", without making any explanation of the difference.
Tribology is a venerable enough area of study, given its usefulness, that to allow it to slip into desuetude is verboten!
It is fortunate that I have never visited my boss's apartment in the silk-stocking district- a co-worker who had done so mentioned that the imposing, Goreyish decor included an enormous hamiform thingamajig suspended from the ceiling; that would certainly give me the fantods!
Mal was a Little Lord Fauntleroy whose fervent jingoism was apparent when he quibbled, "I really don't want to listen to any Putumayo 'world music' CDs ever again!
Nobody would have predicted that our oyster-bed restoration crew was such a well-polished synergy, but the fact remains that everyone tolerated the billingsgate Scott frequently spouted in opposition to all forms of pollution and habitat destruction, as well as the squelchy noises of our electronic mud-manducator which provided us with a suitable substrate; in fact our friendly attitude was a win-win situation.
This was my first time experiencing Lloyd's gargantuan, leathery meatloaf, so I was not cognizant of the process by which it got to my plate: after everyone had eaten as much as they could on the day it was made, they clove the remainder in two for the purpose of the following two days' dinners, this triduan process resulting in the third portion's becoming nearly impossible to manducate.
Lives of the Phillumenists is an entertaining book but not a trustworthy one: it states that Edwin "Nose" Gnobbie, a famously froward 19th-century match collector, stole some of his rivals' collections (which he did) and manducated them in public (this part is a fallacy- there are no authentic accounts of this happening).
We were all disinterested in our factory's monthly health and safety checks, because we all knew what would always happen: a cockalorum would show up and scrutate the machinery for an hour, then abruptly bark at the boss, "This is going Tinker to Evers to Chance; thank you for hiring me!"
You can vituperate at me until your philtrum splits, but you can't hoodwink me into agreeing that Duke Ellington's magnum opus was not "Black, Brown and Beige" or "Reminiscing in Tempo" or even "East St. Louis Toodle-O", all of which you have denigrated, but in fact "Choo Choo" from his very first recording session!
I must issue a caveat to anyone who gallivants in search of the purest possible honey: I have decocted honey samples from several hives in Roofhampton and all of them still taste beey.
I was accosted by a pilgarlic with an annulate head who told me that he was a writer and Lamarckist; he suggested that there should be a corrigendum to Richard Dawkins' The Greatest Show On Earth in that the "beefcake woman" photo's caption should say "Maybe she was born that way".
Frankie was a furfuraceous picaro, not to be trusted with getting out of any of her self-imposed adventures unblemished; after a bicycle accident in which hers was destroyed, she demanded that Neil give her a croggy, effectively incarcerating him at the pedals.
"The most unitive way to deal with these rowdy hoodlums", said the sheriff, who looked mighty fine in his fimbriated buckskin coat, "is to dump the whole kit and caboodle in the hoosgow!"
When I noticed the strange lumps all over my skin I thought I would just give it some time for them to instaurate; but then when I realized they were not cutifying I started to think I had molluscum contagiosum and raised a big foofaraw.
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