Your writing wasn't breezy and chirpy and shallow enough? No problem. It's probably purple, anyway -- always purple interrupting and dissecting black. The fact that she was wearing brown shoes that were what we sometimes call a purple patch -- down to the image of a tree reflected in the veins of a lettuce leaf.
Think about a day when your writing wasn't...your writing wasn't messy, your writing wasn't really funny. When it was brown but turned to red in a few hours. Just make it look as if it's pushing out from inside. It's turned back into one of these women, large, both her feet and both her ankles are swollen,
We're talking about you. During this time was there a swirl or any unnatural condition of the sea? In the midst of the ripples there was a swirl?
No, nothing whatever. The wind and sea were then beginning to get up. There was a moderate breeze blowing then, and a little slop of the sea.
What's so wrong with a little slop from time to time?
I noticed some brown sludge looking substance pushing out from around the..., pushing out from a valley, pushing out from its secret place. I noticed one of the bags was leaking some brown sludge which I realized were decomposed leftovers. There was some brown sludge floating by this morning, and there will be some brown sludge in the bottom of your fermenter.
Have you any idea how much depth of water there was about that point?
Yes; about two thousand and odd fathoms.
Two thousand and odd fathoms? You think you had seen odd eyes?
Yes. He has one full blue eye and one parti-eye, meaning it's blue with some brown sludge in it. And both his gloves were jewelled in the middle, and both his hand and his sabre fell off. Found with its head pointed directly towards the cornea, sometimes with it turned back into the pupil. In both positions, [it was] the opaque white color of the undigested ham, and it turned back into a door-knocker.
Anyone up for some brown sludge?
Dunno, and that was the last thing I expected, and that was the last boat.
Again, two thousand and odd fathoms?
Yes; I looked on the chart.
Were any women rowing the lifeboats?
Yes, on one boat I saw two women pulling. She displayed her remaining foot and both her ankles for our inspection and both her ankles were very tender and swollen. There was a swirl of dark brown heading straight for me. There was a swirl and a whirl and it was all gone. They didn't even know there was a swirl valve actuator rod.
Very odd, yes it is working now, so I am going to tell you about the purple monkey.
No, not the purple one, Jamie, I hate purple.
Okay, a smooth, dark brown, filbert-sized capsule containing one to four furry purple panties but I didn't have the time. They had smoke pushing out from around them. This goes back and forth until the pile is no longer a blue thing which was brown but turned blue when using with waterglass. Odd, yes, but there we are. Still, history suggests it turned back into a somewhat gaudy, golden decoration. But who decided that your writing wasn't as important as everything else?
My girlfriend’s mother. My girlfriend’s mother came around, gave me a very painful foot massage and some brown sludge to drink. Within 15 minutes, it was certain she was purple with rage.
Purple with rage?
Yes, when she is very angry.
I wasn't going to say your writing wasn't any good; your writing wasn't bad, but it certainly left some things to be pressed down, and shaken together, and running over, shall men give into your bosom.
Like a thumb pushing out from a balloon?
Odd! Yes...but...I don't know what the following two things say about me: 1) An evagination appears pushing out from the ventral side of the caudal end, and 2) I took hold of the snake and it turned back into a staff with some green sludge floating around.
What a coincidence. I took some green sludge and after recrystallization I found a pile of beautiful sparkling white crystals. I recalled Claude with some green sludge and it turned back into muscle memory. In another three days it's turned back into a skeletal horse. And it turned back into silver coins because he was doing the right thing.
Who? Claude?
No, Mark. Odd, yes; he showed up at my house and demanded “You will make some brown sludge that is basically rust.”
As if your writing wasn't boring enough, you feel the need to delete the dangers of purple. Do you think your writing wasn't neat before it turned back into its old self?
A bit of purple, which was a pencil I thought was brown but turned... Anyway, there was a swirl outside the window, there was a swirl here and there, but nothing really dense. There was a swirl of dust and it turned back into a male in American version, pushing out from under the snow, preceded by an indescribable stirring in the air.
I prefer the version where it turned back into a typical black clarinet and has stayed like that. Now. You have spent the time to make sure your writing wasn't understandable.
I lost my power and it turned back into a picture. I was brown, but turned peach due to a technicality. If he touches some green sludge, for example, he's dead. Does anybody know where a person might find some green sludge that I can pay for?
Go to your bosom: Knock there, and ask them.
Postscript: An hour and some green sludge later, we were reasonably relaxed.
6 years ago
