Tuesday 1 July 2008

AH LOVE,MANURE THAT MAKES THE HART FLORISH

Chuck Corona and me was walking, hand in hand in a korn field. My good, green frock with the yellow butterflies was trailing suductively threw the swaying korn. My matted mass of red hare, was unconfined and framed my plump,round, full-moon face wantony. The fresh, green korn was putting a polish on my hobnailed boots, as I strolled threw it with demure gate and delightful girlish, maidenly poise and grace. I was hapy, so hapy, as hapy as the acronymanical pig in shi.. muck.
I sang, I laughed, in a hi genteel falsetto, I was young, I was beautiful and I was in-love.Pish Moo-Lugs were climbing up my skirt, did I care??? knot a fig, I was head over heels in love with the gallant, rugged,wee beauty, called, Chuck Corona.
There was knot a sole in site, we had the world too ourselves, we could have bean Anthony and Cleopatra, walking hand in hand two the vomitorium after a good tightener of red whine and doe-eyed dear.
I glanced askew at deer Chuck and mummered. "Chuck, what is this thing called love? love panes the hart, addles the brane, disturbs the guts, opens the large intestine and takes away all warning that a load may be immenent".
Chuck smiled-and suddenly the world got brighter. "Rosie, my darling" said Chuck
"Ever since I met you, I have never bean out of the bog".
"OH CHUCK" I screached "That's the nicesest thing any one has ever said too me".
"'Tis true" said Chuck "every-thyme I think of your face, I find myself in the crapper with my trousers round my feet".
"OH CHUCK" I ejaculated "such poetic utterances, most surely come from a poet, like what Lord Byron, or Stringfellow was"
Then, by mutural konsent we-stopped, we looked into each others eyes, ignoring any sties are turns that met our ogling occulars. The world seemed to stand still, birds ceased to sing and know wind blue from Gortin and surrounding districts.
"Rosie" muttered Chuck "you are the foam on my Guiness".
"Chuck" I simpered, "you are the wings on my fairy cake".
"I love you Rosie Ryan, so much" said Chuck
"I love you Chuck Corona far more mucher" I whispered.
Our lips met, lingered, than parted with a PLOP, like a sink being unblocked.
We stood there, silloutted in the setting son, Adam and Eve, Romeo and Juliet, Jordan and Peter, too lovers obvious two every thing except our--love.
"Chuck" I giggled "Do you want a kiss?"
"Rosie" smiled Chuck "do you want a hug?"
"Chuck" I leered "Do you want a.....
"Clear off" roared a horrid voice "Unless both of you want this double barrel shotgun up your arse" It was Leonard McTwitter, the owner of the field.
"Piss off" he roared "if I wanted too scarecrows, I wood have got two better dressed that you too. Piss off, or you'll both be picking pellets out of your respective arses for the next fortnight" He chased us out of the korn like too hefiers, there was nothing we could do, he had the law and the gun on his side.
I stamped into my abode full of grate ire and thraness.
My sun, Bon Jovi was sitting in a chair, with the buttered heel from a pan loaf in either hand. The cub smirked and said " How did your court with Chuck Corona go? did he chase you round the garden, like a teddy bare?"
"We were KNOT courting" I screamed "we were--talking, just too adults-talking".
"Really?" said Bon Jovi with a smirk "And I suppose the grass stains on the back of your good green frock, with the yella butterflies on it--is the result of--talking?"
"I fell" I lied "I fell, after jumping over a shuck".
"Don't--don't-patronise me" roared Bon Jovi "What kind of house is this?" he yelled.
"It is an upside down topsy-turvy house, where the lump of a cub is the only wan in it with a titter of wit. "Get too your bed" he roared "You're grounded for a weak, some wan has two take you in hand before you bring shame and disgrace two the good name of us Ryan's".
I slunk off two bed with my head hanging oh so low, behind me I could heer the cub still scouling.
"Gott in Himmel, give me elaircissement and Domine dirige nos, how is it, that the lump of a cub is the only wan in the house with the slighest titter of wit?"

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