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Or without blue yet for some no ox tree yellow fish towers?
Castors Castors 36-40, M 7 Answers Dec 7, 2012 in Community

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I am sorry but I do not understand what you could possibly mean. All you have written was "Fish". What do predominately aquatic vertebrate organisms that rely on paired fins for locomotion and which are often protected by thick scales have to do with my question. This is a serious matter and I haven't the time for nonsense!

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It's a reference to surrealism. When people start spouting surrealist nonsense the standard reply has become "fish". If you don't understand surrealism you are not alone.

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Purple deconstructed weak due to mild elation badger dispersal this morning and for sure.

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Difficult.

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But accepted without righteous night caution despise the wonder.

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Remarkable the parakeet broth ambled betwixt twinkly dooms.

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And yet none from without throats done digging groans don't eagle why flip flops forgotten puppy pants under not you.

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But whom? Prison gutters, despite considerable juice, decline along laminated dusk.

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Unsure. But wary. For soon, butterscotch belugas will once more warble amid salty seas, awaiting an uncertain deafening cry, from the soupy sky. As of now, however, only wilderness crying so silent. Blights, thunder, and never the heart to dance. Pitiful. But what can we do? We are not of the elite. Bagpipes. Cockroach. Cereal and still without. Only bamboo withers under the high moon.

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Nutmeg burbles gloomy truths. Hark! Fundamental wicker. Be brave, young cutlery, as the grimy lipids descend upon the horizon. 'Tis but a cataclysmic doughnut awaiting the idle tides of glee.

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Half-truths! Niether the goats nor the blue may bloat beneath the waves in the sunlight of dusk. Slick sands shift as the crocodiles rejoice. Do be cautious, shifty young beaver kitten of the chilly winter storm fields! Do not be tricked by the tricky trickers of lore! Sqeualing oils. The creatures recoil, stricken with terror, the identical pandas defecate in fright. Gentle prodding of the king, slight whittling to the tunes. Silence! The wind, yet it goes for never. While new one does never nothing forever. Sunlight, little none of the most without all but some, Sunlight, sometimes. Jellybeans, maybe so much hydrocortizone, and polka dots but never for not longest. Only the willow will waver beneath subpolar monsoons. Only the lionfish may enter the golden lagoons of Laos. Stay safe as the magnets flow. Let your mind be open. But be afraid. The forks, the forks will soon gloat. Because only the easternmost forest peak will blunder and yet very so. Death and snowflakes. It is weasels, black as noodles and slimy like the nasty tongue of a nightingale. Show me the musk ox, Sahara, before the solar flares bewilder the squishy cables. Never remember the horror of the gumbo.

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Of certain, they whom didn't but what is that they did. Consider. Reflect. Shall it never cease to flow, just a silvery speck on the creamy custard that is Europe. Never the cat shall control. But flittering. Fighting but failing. Silence once more.

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Abstract walls may sharpen the clouds while unaware lambs calculate the rippling doom. Be careful Gerald, for threes become twelves in this fragmentary prism of soup. The rusty angles confuse the furious baker and roll over the minds of the brave. Piglet! Oh joyous piglet. Why does your handbag frown? While shrubbery destroys invention we retain the bliss of blue. Ring, ring, square. We cavort to the rhythm of the blackboard. Oh no! But yes! Dust is the unenviable task of many a duckling. Words and dimples will soothe the beaker. All is to be found in a puddle.

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The sun, buoyant and floaty, retreats in shame as the moon, beautiful as a spring crocus and just as purple if not more so, takes its place in the smog of decomposing applesauce and just as if it were an omniscient nickel from the before times, throws itself high into the sky for the last time. The evening sprawls listlessly, sad and meticulous, over the alpine prairie of mauve sorrow, rich with fierce puppies and sweet dugong, as dozens of great black horses take to the air for destruction, fleeing the cataclysm of collapsing construction. Do not fear the abduction, small walrus. It cannot be averted. The fog covers the land like pancakes, slowly but surely engulfing the earth. lightning and dishtowels alight in the forest. The deer panic. The quails burst. The rain drips from the soil. Quiet! Can you not see the owls? The sunlight drips down.
We mustn't wait any longer. Never any more, quoth the gazelle; she has risen. But somehow, never but obviously, the pattern is too convex. Too obtuse to fit the spaces. It is not warm, nor is it flurried or spattered. Somehow, the ground lays fallow. The chipmunk, she screams. But it is too little, too late. Her baby, it has died. The pumpkins gather around, orange as night, to dispose of her, gorging upon her sweetness.
Triangle, triangle, oh dear lady! Save the baby badgers! Oh it is awful. The yellow has gone for good. The purple soon shall too. Only the sevens and eights remain, biding their time near the river, mumbling and skipping to the moaning of the otters. But they have not long before the time. Not reddish but rather dark blue, it appears in the sky. Big as a school bus but small as an eye. Soon the sky darkens, the forest falls silent. Not a mouse makes a noise as the river dust twinkles.
Cheetahs, they cry, as the doubling stops. Foxes, fluffy and soft, run to assist but are killed by the yodles. Popcorn and doodles yell out for help. But the sadness is finished. The ocean has turned. The washing machine gone. And all of the fingers, gasps all of the kids. My turkey! Oh goodness, she's gone! Delilah! where could she be? The horizontal plane plays tricks with the soul. But the worst of the fires are yet to be burned.

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And so little sand. Be sorry, for she is thinking. Leave it alone but return ever more. So much, so little, the shivers return. Check the briefcase for the headlines, if the time still awaits.

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Bloody hell! You win. A Nobel Prize for literature awaits you. Thanks for that. I've been giggling intermittently all evening. We must have a rematch some time.

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On a parting note: Once branded with brown the nibbles rose under and flew to the drawer.

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Hark! Fundamental wicker! Yeah, it was pretty interesting. I cracked up when I read up to "Piglet! Oh joyous piglet. Why does your handbag frown?". That's just so stupid it's great. "Be brave, young cutlery, as the grimy lipids descend upon the horizon. 'Tis but a cataclysmic doughnut awaiting the idle tides of glee."
And poor Gerald, so pitifully unaware that threes become twelves in this fragmentary prism of soup.

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Oh, and despite incessant wallowing pity, nevermore shall the preposterous ponderings of the sorrowful pterosaurs be proposed, for the shells of the invertible have shattered, never to be, always for never. Extroversion and condors exact, still lost in the darkness of light. Courage.

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13 More Responses

Absolutely! At least once a week. [:>{)

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How? Dojo hearing of whole smaller over flight bear?

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WTF? I really want to understand this question.

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Why?

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I'd like to know how someone would make sense of it.

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Do none with so many none many done yet.

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Octagonal race fright yet no more dingo worse before on the yesterday notes!

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1 More Response

WHAT?!?!

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No silly Kodiak bonanza? Trying so only hopping not for to be red fearful anger under highlights no for tofu spite?

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