The Siren is the ship upon which Calhoon sailed when he discovered Keefers Rey, or Quay as the name degenerated. He was searching in the name of King Nimrod for the lost ships of Elvis, heading three points off Bermuda, when a storm blew him to Keefer.
In addition to his duties as navigator, Xenomanes served as ship’s sawbones in the absence of Alcofribas. Accordingly, when the fleet touched in at Borneo and Alcofrybas was reconnoitering in the Far Faluches, it fell to Xenomanes to institute a program of public health.
It smells like someone just did a big load of laundry. Down at the stockyards, next to the pulp plant. Like Yogi Berra’s been eating beans. But I’ve been fooled before. When the fruit man had a finger on the scale. When the stories of the supreme being didn’t bear scrutiny. When patriotism was a play. When the time came to unearth my mother’s breasts. And to play ball like my father. Hollowed be thy name among men.
Would you like a toke?
Affirm of France happy the realm,
From which proceeds Pantagruelion.
It’s dicks o’clock, dude. Time to be humping the little ladies. This ain’t vaporware. Not in our neck of the woods. Spoiled childs.
The boys wanted me to have a talk with you. Here’s the low down. You’re in the red for:
I am tired of cursing the Bishop, (Said Crazy Jane)
Nine books or nine hats
Would not make him a man.
I have found something worse
To meditate on.
A King had some beautiful cousins.
But where are they gone?
Battered to death in a cellar,
And he stuck to his throne.
Last night I lay on the mountain. (Said Crazy Jane)
There in a two-horsed carriage
That on two wheels ran
Great-bladdered Elmer sat.
Her violent man Cuchulain sat at her side; Thereupon’
Propped upon my two knees, I kissed a stone
I lay stretched out in the dirt
And I cried tears down.
Man and manatee, woman and wombat, landed in gentry, christened in combat, there’s a crack in the esprit d’armor.
Millie made muffins for the multitude but jesus got all the credit. Credit where credit is due, by gum.
Pepe popped in to the peep-o-rama but it turned out he was in his cups and the pope got the coats of the many coloureds and those of the rug riders. He pulled the rugs out from under them. That’s the way things go during the decline of the umpire.
Forgive me for poisoning your well but it was all in the spirit of jest.
As, jest you wait until I get ahold of you. Then we’ll see who’s the cock of the robin and who’s a ward of the state. You got to have balls to become a bowler. You got to have the shits to become a plumber. You got to have your head examined to become a shrink
the lady in waiting had a quilted foundation and the garment of a gamin a profusion of profundities poured from her pudendum holy mackerel and clams for us all at the coquille saint jack
My grandfather told this story to me, then he died laughing despite the pain of the stone.
Now therefore, let not my blood fall to the earth before the face of the lord: for the king of Israel is come out to seek a flea, as when one doth hunt a partridge in the mountains.
I’d walk a mile for a camel and dive a fathom for a glucose fahrt. Shiver me timbers. Bout ready to hit the sack to munch kurds and whey Don’t now how to put this but many hans make short gretles.