Wednesday 8 February 2017


1.



   she inherited a million bucks  and  when she died it came to me
                               I can't help it  if I'm lucky


  I bin doubleX'd  now for the very last tyme  
         and now I'm finally free
           I  x'd  goodbye 2 the howlin' beast  
              on the borderline  which separated u from me
                                                                                                                         Fibby Dildo





By the time it got to  February 8  2017  Kolee ?Ynnit (ms) felt like she could breathe again.
As she had learned from her recent haranguing on the docks at the handwash of the prophet Nostlikeymen, today was one of the 64 key dates of the year. !Hell, not just one of those key dates, but the  SEVENTH  key date in the series. 
In tymes which tingled  to a  5 --5 dangle,  that was a pretty momentous thing to take on bored. 

So it was that, at the end of the day,  K  had the death of parody hanging over her head
lika spongehawk in a saltbath  ffs;  on top of which she had a parrot to take care of,   !wtf !
It is fair to say that  K?Y(ms)  would be up in front of the beak much sooner than she had dared to imagine.




he hears the ticking of the clocks   and walks along with a parrot that talks   hunts her down by the waterfront docks   
where the sailors all come in                               FD



Koleespolly, as the bird was to become, had been passed down the female line of the 
 ?Ynnits since Eternity began.
At one point it had been in the safekeeping of the CrotchetyWindbugged aunt, 
who re-named the bird VouchsafEternity, on the one claw because of the parrot's aptitude in handing out apparent compliments with faux-grace and condescension, and, on the other, because the bird had promised, on the life of its Kazbek cuzzes, to maintain the lie that CW's safe merely contained relatively disabused documents, rather than a stash of extorted roubles hidden in truth from the greasy-grench of abusive relatives.
As CW had, in her primal years, established   protocol liaison  with a dancing, Kalahari lumberjack, she developed a taste for logger rhythmic function ; an 'algebraic bent' for sure, though this particular passion waned after one such had taken off with her lumberpartner. 
Well, VouchsafE, never slow in picking things up, matured into a pollymath ; 
a  pollymathuselah  in fact,  given the parrot's lugubrious longevity.
This biblical bag be bemusingly fitting, bearing in mind the religious rightyness stuffed down V's throat from a rife young age.    Orthidummy or taxidummy, !your choice fuckwit   CW had reiterated on umpteen occasions, sloshing her Cab Sauv over 
Fukwit's cage with consomme relish.   
As a consequence of this shattered upbringing, V had learnt to 'f and blind' like a trope urn, flavouring the expression  
 !fuck unto others a'fore they fuck unto you       
and    
  call yourself Kristian !? Kunt
which could be awkward when the neighbour of that very name occasioned to call.
Still, if VouchsafE thought that Windbugged was the devangle come to belouge the wingnuts of those blown off course, he/she clearly hadn't met Kolee ?Ynnit(ms)'  systa.     !Oh no






2,

?Ynnit's  systa, it is fair to say, had a mush that could hush public transport. 
Such insurmountable unglush that busses would break down uncontrollably,
with auto rescue squads suddenly  otherwise engaged,   having hijacked the first available plane to La Paz.  
When Windbugged slipped into sudden ill-health, Systa saw an immediate opportunity to make hay while the sun refused to shine. On the premise of looking after CW,  
Sys moved in with aunt and parrot, hockshock and burial, soon establishing a Rain of Terror with dastardly aplomb.
Such that in the neighbouring mango swamp  the megafruitbats were having kittens, 
in the close-by cat shelter the ragmogs were pawing their harts out, and in the round-and-abouts the park deer were just hanging around having lost all sense of purrpuss. 
The R of T was in all honest more Guantanamera than Guantanamo, butt it didn't stop the parrot from mailing the Kazbek cuzzes  pictures of itself  covered in plasters masking apparent cuts and bruises from pissedSysta frenzicuffery  
- well that was Vouchsafe's stor(e)y and (s)he was sticking to it.   
Neither did it stop  either of the old birds having regular nightmares, relieved only fleetingly by sweetdreampics of  a pantyhosed ?Ynnit parading the docks with The Prophet ; a fact that emerged from the expletive-packed, morning conflabs between our two kahooters 
( though how&why ?Ynnit was so tightly woven into the dreams of both of them is 
surely a mystery best left               mysterious. )
One day, though, it all went tits down.
Systa's standard walcritch    Your a fuckin' ded-duk  ! U malvingerous muffbukket    
had its usual impact on Team VouchsafE/Windbugged, whereby one of them would hop to their hideout in the shed-wardrobe, whilst one of them would hop up the road to goode-olde 
Mr Wellings who would always present a wise-olde shoulder  on which to weep and question the meaning of life.  For blinde-olde Mr W welcomed a b(r)eak from his daily rootings  of yoga rumbling and mole filching, with a visit from the malvingerer he referred to as  The Noo Oldie,  or, with sudden front / soddenYfront / nettleyW(h)iney embarrassment which happened more than he cared to happen   The Noode Oldie.
History may also observe that at least one of the now hysterical muffbukkets 
will have probably taken considerable offence at being referred to as a  (-)duk ,  
let alone  a  ded(-)  one.
In any event,  parrot VouchsafE and/or aunt Windbugged emerge from hiding that day looking for all their worth like Therese Raquin's belle-mere.
And later on the chimes of the nightChimera  will announce three corpses 
lying on CrochetyWindbugged's kitchen floor.





3.
       SO WE COUNT THE DEAD  
              (   THE ONE WHO KNOW ALL THE ANGLES               
                      THE STRAIT MATHEMATICIAN
                                                          AND    POLLY  GONE     )







!so we count the dead  ! ( kunts )   !  so we count the dead   !
VouchsafEternity was squelking to no-one in particular, butt
especially to itself. Whether or not the parrot knew that 
?Ynnit(ms) would be walking through Windbugged's front door 
at that very moment (with a key too one might assume), 
or whether it just happened to be that way  was a question
best left to medical science and/or VouchsafE's Kazbek cuzzes.
For Kolee, it was a clear case of her acquiescing to the chimes of
the nightChimera, before coming across three stiffs splayed out
on CW's kitchen floor.
VouchsafE jumped out of her/his skin when (s)he heard Crotchety'
other niece rasp : 
?!whats with the cunting innit  ?eh ! bird   
Well the bird would have jumped had its skin been jumpable-out-of 
and it would have jumped further when it saw what was apparently Systa
hovering over it ; for it be fair to say that Systa and Systa's sister, K ?Y(ms.),
were so alike as to be like so likeable and/or unlikeable twins, were it not for 
a significant difference in insurmountable unglush.
VE had to pinch itself - well would have done had it been able - to understand that it was Systa's sister and NOT Systa standing above it.
So Kolee and VouchsafE count the dead together: 
  1         2       the  OneWhoKnowAllTheAngles      the  StraitMathematician                                        !Hmmm               defo             1        2
        I bin expectin'  three  stiffs   
Kolee then explain to the parrot, 
                              OWKATA      SM     and  PollyGone  ! too

 !Well    retort the unmovable, mimickingmagicking bird  
poly defo not gone  poly defo here  stuklikefuk  squashed under Sys and Crotch 
 ! dedduks defo
!?Butt if not oorpsitose i thort u mite be commitose at the very leest innit  insist ?Ynnit
Yup!cummytosecrummytose !no comfytose thats4sure not when me kuntinklaws are caught fast crushedlikefuk now !get these dundershitwits off me ?y dunt ya ? (h)mMm !pleezpretypleezpretypolypleez  !       ffs




  

         4.
                        some tyme in the future



     LOYNE :     So let me get this straight, Ms. ?Ynnit.    You are saying that this pseudo-catatonic 
                      parrot,  aka  Koleespolly, be a purveyor of  blind magickry sooner than purrblind 
                      mimicry 

                
       

     ?YNNIT :
        




      LOYNE :     . .  .   coming up with  stuff  off its own back  indeed        !   hmMmmm
                      mashed rather than re-hashed language,  invented sooner than inverted words


   
     ?YNNIT :



    LOYNE :                                              butt not to labour the point  !   Kolee          
                                                 ?!  Hmmmm  
                                                                                                                      so,  Kolee  
                     a parrot that's led this (w)hole-farrago,
                                   that's had us all going,
                    a parrot that has, in no certain terms, 
                                  that capacity  to  just   make   shit   !  up

    ?YNNIT :

    LOYNE :    Yet  Kolee  this gory  laborious story  this folly of Koleespolly


    
     



    ?YNNIT :                                                   O   !yeh   im goin  to see  wayne sleep   soon   innit


     LOYNE :                                               O    !? he still dancing


    ?YNNIT :                                                   O   ! no       not  realy       not  in  soo  many  words





                                                                                 










 people tell me it's a sin     to know and feel too much within
I still believe she was my twin        but(t) I lost the ring
she was born in spring    but(t( I was born too late
blame it on a simple twist of fate                           FD









      a folly you've foisted on  this  wally   ! good golly
this preposterous piece   is the  paltry product pedalled by  a pissed-off  parrot 










where Loyne be lernin' more about Wayne (all the tyme)        
and ! it's a pretty polly site  for sore ears




?YNNIT :    and id buy im kwoissants   cos he loved em rite    
                      and sometymes id go out on a lim 
                        and  well  id get im almand kwoisses   
                          and hed then give me a rite gud goin over   ?alrite

 LOYNE :

?YNNIT :                     !noo not like that       i meen a reel good slappin   !  innit

 LOYNE :   Just for getting him almond croissants  ?

?YNNIT :   yep

 LOYNE :   Nut problem I assume ?

?YNNIT :   !your not rong there    sik          your not  wrong  there                    !
















  L :    Then you tacitly approved  ? of his subterfuge  


 ?Y :


 L :                    You allowed him to hide in your wardrobe when Systa visited

 ?Y :   yup

  L :    Why  ?Kolee

 ?Y :            cuz he say she were  the Devil             

  L :      !Hmm(m)m

 ?Y :    butt she alwaze  new  he were there     !?rite

  L :      Because she was psychic, I assume

 ?Y :                          nah   she  stenched im  innit   !   he smelled like a skunksKunt

  L :      Oh !  (no)    a  skunk  would have been quite enough  there  I think , Ms. ?Ynnit

 ?Y :                 ! your not wrong there      sik        your  not rong  there    !








































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