And that's too bad, really. How fun is it to say "chomsky?" What a fun marblegame bubblegum clown kiddytoy name!
Chum chummy chin Chomsky! Shin sharoo! Yum yum Chomsky!
And then the brief unfurled noisemaker blows, spitrumpet bugle to no army sleeping, like retreating fruit roll-up striped stocking pantyhouse 'neath Dorothyhouse Falls.
The poor thing. All her sister wants is her shoes and her roadkill's still warm! What a witch! Then, everyone sings dances and follows a stupid fat swirl on a lollipop the Devil licks dirty. All the time the road was a ribbon of horizontal highway peeking out from behind trees behind a Home Depot, midgets mushrooms, and all.
Noam shares Truth: The Irony of Inner Iron Curtains
Noam, my heart is heavy for your Vincent deaf ear.
Know I heard you. Know I cared, and some icon of a college inspiration spirit still soars in my young graduate heart. And once a while, a kid listens and smiles, gets giddy, and hangs 'round professor doors. And Mrs. Robinson takes o'er.
Chom Skilift, that's you!
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