It's good to see Liz drawing arrows. But too much gibber is a dangerous thing.
"Vervicis est sine fine scribere"
(Himself)
"Būbus" = To/From Cows
1/2e1
π/8
CON3
-------
√TEXT ÷
---------
--------
242
--------"libri est uerbosum esse"
nūgāx
+ fūfant
------------
= nougāt fōndānt
Not to Scale
{A diagram. On the left is an assortment of lines, rectangular corners and transverse beams, like a heap of broken TV aerials. To the right of this is a house, with three arrows emerging. The middle arrow points to a fish.}
{OLD JOKE (becoming clichéd and hence unsurreal) 2/10}
{The topmost arrow points to the word "gnosticism", from which an arrow leads downwards (past the fish) to "more gnosticism" and thence to "deliberation", "elvish" and "dervish". The final arrow leads to an explosion that blasts the word ANALYTICAL from its core.}
loaf-tree anima of the seventh legless with all termite-crunching species of brain. Stylistically negligible and overt gangrene.
Good evening. Tonight a report has just come in, as another vital sector is hit by the recession. Dead zombies have been fired tenned on a large scale: employers hope that many (limbs) may be lost through "natural" wastage.
And now – the weather. Most parts of the country are still subject to weather but cut-backs have meant that parts of Wales and the Isle of Man are no longer receiving weather. *
Stir fried chicken are reported to be invading Hong Kong – here is a diagram of John Major's brain ----> · (to scale).
* Dear Sir,
I hope you are well & having weather...
{ SATIS FECUNDITATIS"It's an allusion [allegedly]"
LIZ { PARUM CLARITATIS
{ NIMIUM SANITATIS
Is this a question I see before me?
Oh no! Not another one!
No – here comes another one...
"Dead zombies don't hold tea parties," as the astronaut said to the takerunder.
Dead zombies are redundant. Q.E.D.
It is a little know grassy knoll but nonetheless significant fact that 21 February is National Car Parking day. This event, ever since its establishment over 30 seconds ago, has become something of a national institution. Up and down the country events will be held, co-ordinated by the major sponsor of the day, NCP, and a record turn-out is expected. Participators have a host of features to enjoy – there will be workshops on the best techniques for car-parking, including a debate chaired by the Minister for Carparks and Disused Docklands, Sir Timothy Sprognall, dealing with the perennial problem: which is better, reverse or forward parking? There will also be special cinemas set up in various carparks, showing excerpts from many recent films involving scenes in carparks. British director Alan Park-er will be explaining why it is in fact impossible to make a thriller without a murder in a carpark, preferably an underground one.
An exhibition will also be on show, concerning "famous carparks of history" going right back to biblical chariot parks. The event promises to be a popular one, and members of the public are advised to arrive early, to be sure of finding a parking-place.
The Book is back (or is it front? But the front is the back --> The book is back to tnorf). This time it's public (but soon to be made private).M utually ) No
{A circular badge with an unhappy face in the centre, and the words "DECONSTRUCTION & CONCOMITANT INSANITY? NO THANKS" round the edge.}
A ssured )- thank
D econstruction ) you
Suddenly the Mona Lisa frowned in the manner of a person being unexpectedly disembowelled with a pair of tweezers. The image ruptured, and reformed into the most horrific-smelling venomous beast of burden that any of the Enterprise's crew (of seven) had ever seen.
It was the Leader of the Shrimps.
It oozed gungingly round in its bucket to face Kirk. "We come in peace," it slimed, "shoot to kill."
"That's my line," exclaimed Kirk, who now resembled a shoebox full of pot noodle and gargoyle sick. "Fire torpedoes, Mr Lunu!"
"Firing now, sir," replied the Lieutenant. The Right-tenant said nothing (probably because he was Russian and didn't understand a word anyone said).
"Well, you wouldn't be firing them four millennia ago, would you?" said Morse, appearing not altogether unbizarrely from the ship's Portawarp. "Lewis?"
"Warp factor 17, Mr Snott," ordered Kirk.
"Och, if I give her any more she'll blow Captain," replied the haggis-eating bagpipes.
"Warp factor 459." And she blew.
"Damn," said Kirk. "I did it again."
(to be continued?)
