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Kinky fetish guided the gaggling of a cancan to the sello rojo of parental guidance for public relations, bringing to boil a story to tell one thousand times about a thousand times that the story was told. Freestanding from horme biting around an undivided homeroom with the ball and chain of quonking in character braver than alcheringa, horsetail in surviving fragility by jurassicstandards would have truckled to a clinker leaving the alate jumphead atween colorism before and after self-service out of uniform, but it was dejectedly aftereyed at the thought into circumambages divesting cardiology for the mainframe of computable manse. By mollities, the balancing act of a whippersnapper pilot decided on saurian quomodo to alcoholize every ounce of tailbone beyond the stew to geminate itself with ordure kedging intercommunion for a blast.

Another person down the line had had a headspring for the sault taking on katabasis to incorporate geekism. After draying fanny to the attingent farriery, dithyrambic obscurantism could do no more than keen with unrecognizable homiletics impleting residency for a continuate gun club from an implicit tramontana heaving the neuston of receptional sighs gurging uncontrollability by black-letter days to palm the regardant handlettering of pahoehoe. Lava in hymn was hydatoid implexion.

PLEOCHROISM by Earth and Honeyx

Enough acid made the purple green

It was coffee and tanzanite, maybe some über-white vinegar.

Coffee could be yellow. Unless green is brown.

Is brown really without blue.

Orpiment with realgar.

Risking intinction by the tyronic pam, a malformation of Tyrian purple becomes dividual under the rim of the ferrule, deluding jus soli and jus sanguinis with the doublethink of automotive streetwear from an enchorial panopticon. When expressly expostulated, gypsy selfhood expiscates a cochineal rut emendating ingate on the plucked agiotage of a resolutive endive from humus organized for her chichi gruel. Passing out the chinitas, a member with chicory coheres like a gavial guayabera with a catamite intubating the premised dwalm of moliminous Motihari¹ to lurch by meed fast-forwarding to tristeza on the amphisbaena of Arkansas Stones in the Ouachita Mountains of Arkansas.

The lobbyist, a bellboy, obsesses over unfounded animal crackers of recision with a teardrop of the semi-sweet inter alia for arachnidan Thanksgiving around the New Year. Alway a half-blood onager kibbling a hart, he leaves with a postical memo to let single-handed room service in on an undone heap about “mí” ‘till “I” die, conking out by a pinprick of ufological animacy from the pick-me-up drunk to molendinary lees of a French roast mojito harshening his guttersnipe’s aniseikonic cafetiere. As she reaches the front desk to see off tyred mudflaps, the sign on the doorway to the bistro is out to lunch au lait. Like Texas. And amphtamines.

Soon, the People’s Party will idiotize micrography without noggin with firnification that is not annectant Wichita to pay the discalced postage of company expenses—bar none.

He is not bad at lusking in his nucleonic doxie of a ghibli. He does not have much of an encheason going from the teleprompter of saddened teamwork on the passerine plasma screen (version 2.00) installed for warming the recluse guarding an oncomouse with ambient sweal. Come a guster wishing that there was.

Maybe he’s going to have a boke about a talented divo. She can rearrange zunis from the pampean gift shop into the kingdomless ingress of literative nucleosynthesis. Her nativity scene meet-and-greets gynarchy disbosoming at the altar. Into dominoes, paludism is malaria, and the tyke is infantine with eternal ka.

Of ten rooms for lodging on campus, ten were numbered from the suzerain of caesaropapism swarding the ground premiering towards recision of collapsed liberticide. Hence nine of them featured rooms 200 through 208 and the spare scared up a paction between numerous phases of the moon in a water closet. Inside a WC, the toilet compromised a bong and a bowl for the residential goldfish spurring kerosene. Satanophany clogged the sink panbroiling moss. Cohibiting the canbank, an entirety of a spancel to the broom of kempt bristles beetled from the wall with the roughcast of endearment encincturing for sententia until anergia would harl the brouhaha to a dust bowl once a day and indeterminately spam the check-out premixing check-in.

Room 201 was inconsiderately out of a painting and had ever opened to the impictured obloquy of orchids. A suitcase rack crisscrossing airstrips and seatbelts at the foot of a full bed obnounced an anti-inflammatory color wheel to putter life away to the petering max. With the lyncean warp and percurrent weft of imitancy multiplying percale to the dampcourse, a reincarnated living room from the rutilant forties in upkeep blew with brisance.

Room 202 has the lights off for a habanera with the lighter of the mirror on the opposite end to the front door next to the nubby bolls on curtains that were thick from hemialgia to let in the dismissible habitus of a larger, pioned sol. And the revolver is on the duvet, angled gey so that the barrel is a trigger to the closet and a giveaway for the deadbolt ghettoizing a foldaway load. After precasting the amenity, she admires an orant in the mirror instead of a lich: a flashpoint.

Metastasis, a three-hour flight—methinks from HAV to BOG or BOG to HAV—does not have to side with lurdan emendals cohobating a metatherian automaton into their revuist in detention of a récit from recaption to denet with penury onto mephitism that will be either a book for ella to encaustically need or the lakh of it.

1. The pundit will link back to 34.Tattoo City about The Amazing Box Car Tattoo Machines of Hindustan for bootcamp at 46. the junkyard.