In a paradigm shift so nocuous that it brought a premature end to their entire profession, the English troubadours of the sixteenth century sought to outdo their French counterparts, who were dropping consonants from the ends of their words like mad, by adopting a strict form of apheresis which required them to omit any initial consonant(s) from words of two or more syllables and resulted such memorable ballads as this one: "'Eensleeves was all my joy 'Eensleeves was my 'elight..."
The so-called entertainment on the first night of the cruise consisted of five scantily-clad gorgons arranged in a quincunx on the stage, all of them flailing their arms and legs in an unsynchronized dance as the one in the center screeched out the greatest hits of Heart, and for some inscrutable reason the gray-headed sheeple who made up the audience applauded wildly after each number.
I was rolling our recycling bin down the driveway when, by the soft light of the gibbous moon, I espied that notorious siren of the neighborhood, Mrs. Gorrmann, standing stark naked next to a juniper bush on our lawn, and notwithstanding the rush of lustful hormones that one would naturally expect to permeate the groin of any red-blooded American male in such a situation, I found myself employing the device of accismus and screaming, "Get outta here you crazy old bat, before I call the cops!"
"You may call me a procrustes, but there is no room for any black sheep in MY flock," bellowed the preacher, as his lumpy, middle-aged daughter plucked out a dismal tune on the psaltery, "for God has entrusted me with the transhumance of your souls from one pasture of righteousness to the next, and He is playing a zero-sum game with the Devil, who lurks in the dark, narrow passes in between, ready to snatch any bold little lamb who catches his eye!"
"I admit I have behaved somewhat like a - a - like a Bluebeard," stammered the prisoner, who seemed to be searching for the mot juste that could miraculously save his life, "but I do beseech this court's clemency, for I feel that on each of those awful occasions I was acting under the influence of a grievous perturbation in the universal od which made my moral compass spin like a pinwheel -- and what could have been the cause of that if not the saucy, insolent and provoking ways of the ladies themselves?"
"In the jungle, one enjoys an absolute freedom and autonomy in his dealings with other men, for the very idea of a social contract is so allochthonous here as to be absurd, and this can only redound to the benefit of a Superman such as I!" exulted the great white game hunter to his wife, shortly before one of his underpaid porters lunged at him and lacerated his face with a machete.
Some, but by no means all of our most sapient museum curators have joined together in an espousal of the repatriation of all allochthonous archeological pieces in their collections to their respective countries of origin, notwithstanding any financial remuneration that may have been transacted in previous generations.
"True, I had noticed they spoke in allochtonous accents, but I was nowise aware that my yard workers were illegal immigrants", murmured the candidate, absentmindedly picking crumbs from between the folds of his cummerbund, and thanking heaven the press had not yet gotten wind of his liaison with the porn-star daughter of a Mexican drug lord.
Brushing aside an elflock of tangled auburn hair so that she could look her interlocutor directly in the eyes, Tammy delivered herself of the impolitic pronouncement that got her forevermore banned from teaching a cooking class at the annual Republican Party retreat at Osage Beach, Missouri: "No, Senator, you can dump in all the American ketchup you want but it will be to no avail -- a dab of Dijon mustard is the ONLY means I know of for rendering the oil and vinegar in your salad dressing miscible!"
The babysitter whom we had engaged for the evening was the youngest of a quaternary group of sisters and quite used to having her own way; when, seeing her exposed cleavage both front and rear, I gently suggested that she not show up for work attired like a slutty teenybopper, she neither dithered nor even paused, but shot back that I was a "lecherous, crypto-pervert old wowser" just like her dad, and stalked out of my house, slamming the door behind her.
In his divorce proceeding against Gaia, Ouranos deponed that his wife had jilted him in favor of the sea god after he (Ouranos) had innocently rearranged a few of her boulders; that he (Ouranos) could not have foreseen that the sight of these erratics would inflame her dangerous and irrational fear of anatopism; and that he (Ouranos) should therefore be granted custody of little Zeus and Hera.
The matador gave his utmost attention to not slipping and sliding, but his little black satin slippers gave him away, and down he went into the snowbroth that was the residue of a highly unusual overnight meteorological event in this ancient city just south of the Pyrenees; whereupon the toro, which suffered from no such disability, made quick work of him and rendered him an unfit candidate even for the repechage that might have permitted him to fight again on Sunday during the festival's grand closing event.
Early this morning a bevy of township officials conducted Ms. Edna Sterngarten, dubbed "the Typhoid Mary of NGO administrators" for her role in infecting at least 200 individuals with live polio virus during a botched vaccination campaign, up into a remote, cliff-lined kloof where, after a lengthy musical ceremony (in which Ms. Sterngarten herself is reported to have participated, for she had had an earlier career as an operatic soprano), they cast her into a tourbillion near the headwaters of the Thaba-Tseke river.
"Never again will you finagle me into a 'swinging couples weekend' if it means worrying about catching something from the likes of that filthy Typhoid Mary you hooked up with, or her awful Greek boyfriend -- what was his name? -- who left me black and blue from his combination of sex and pankration," complained Mrs. Timwold to her husband, who quipped, "I think it was Vector."
With orgulous pleasure beaming from his face, the owner of a chain of private, for-profit orphanages showed off his sleek flagship facility to the team of state regulators whom he expected to renew his contract, but far from this Potemkin village, most of the waifs whose lives he managed (the less presentable ones) were batted around like shuttlecocks between substandard holding pens of every type and description.
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