two Thursdays since my last boiler reservation

A Dadaist Sport Announcer Provides Colour Commentary on the Game

 

It wasn’t raining, and we had our first gas on Wednesday… We’re mine, we’re the last. Inside, he felt anxious exhaustion and angry gusts.

Tell me when was the last time you had your first oil… Take my win – Enter just one, courtesy of an Olympian. Illness could limit a Week 9 championship run in any number of ways, either through the playoffs or Tub Swoon’s avalanche numbers; a sign of unspecified Buzz Library classification for standard flavoured smoke bombs.

Number of hits: We have more shooters. They will have more than three quarters of five. The end of hockey night here is reserved for next Thursday – there is no drizzle in the Pacific Ocean. I’m trying to keep track of the four numbers that tells me two Thursdays since my last boiler reservation.

I’m looking for iron and volatile doors. So give me something for every game – you want to save a series of games and a great night – I can’t have four big nights in a row every night – there is a night leg to rebound and a kettle in the park. Look at those crowds – polkas break out when the Juju Pastrami Blues passes the shoe. Just get in there based on number four and start playing. Last played a slide guitar in the smoke house vinyl on the way to a portmanteau. Let us know based on 10 clues, and get there without staying up all night. There is something for everyone. There is something for everyone looking for traces of asphalt explosions in a megalomaniac’s species of volatile gases.

Like every party game, every day, every day. Highlights of Thursday’s game and Saturday’s four-way Clueless 2 Arrows at The Turquoise Hat. At night, I would wake up in the middle of the night and stay like that for a while. I woke up again – spent 7 nights, but every night in this wave, more game-wide content is being tested in each game, track dissection of standard flavour volatilizes. Each nose brands the transmitter. Champions under the sofa is a linguistic melody.

Come hang out with me every Saturday night. I have a new Winnipeg gaming license, and cognitive censorship. Grace With Every Hat Season is Method 3 – Winnipeg’s Heart Will Win Numbers. Make the Night Count 7 Thursdays to Boiler of the Day. Anatomy of turbulence from infinitely unsteady fatigue, neologism doesn’t play. An irrevocable excuse steals this S-Butterfly from the Rebel Library. It’s 3a.m. on Saturday and I still have work to do – but every time I play at the station, day or night, I feel thirsty. Turkey chases the zebra.

A night at sea, if it’s so good, it’s for everyone. Can you compare one? Every gram of young archery will not happen. While you’re in Winnipeg, there will be something happening every morning and crowds every night. They will get better on game day and try to resist saying yes. If he wins darts, he gets 7. Let most games import your grandmas. On my Sabbath, some say I am still in the night – an early bifurcation. This is a warning to local rebels to be fed up with the lies. This behaviour occurs when you are drunk.

Process Notes

 

The abstract compositions were created using a photo of palm tree fronds, taken many years ago, a digital image based on a map of the island of lost Atlantis, and a digital composition based on a photo of one of my wife’s paint palettes.

The basis of the text a multiple manipulation of a portion of Wild and Wooly Wednesday, a post from the blog, Schingle’s Blog ~Musings from a hermit.