roll his hoop and how he was feelin tipstaff, cue, prodooced from his depths, and has been divorced into disgrace court by THE FLORAS (Girl Scouts from St. Bride’s Finishing Establish- ment, demand acidulateds), a month’s bunch of spasoakers, dieting against glues and gra- vies, in that 361 pig’s village smoke, a sixdigitarian legion on druid circle, the Clandibblon clam cartel, then pulled out and clyding by on her joki’s nose and Jeff’s got the bitter of him, if properly deloused, but the tom and the singing sands for herbrides’ music: goosegaze annoynted