Subscribe to all of my blatherings right in your wob brewser!Subscribe to my latest blatherings right in your wob brewser! Pnårp in print! Made from 35% recycled toilet paper! Send Pnårp your garrulous praise… or excretory condemnation! The less you tweet? The more you toot! Dreaming widely about my page! Tweet! Tweet! Twat! Livin’ it up… on a living journal! A whole book full of my faces? A whole book full of my faces?
You’re my favorite visitor!

Pnårp’s docile & perfunctory page

Toe-visages on the Sefernday

Splayed on April 29, 2007.

Dreaming of farnmorthed burfnagle dancing upon goonflayvins all the while sleepcrying myself to splatz in my closet—grumptuously, with visiables of Alyssa Milano’s enlubrinated, snupple feet and whide-splayed toes grancing before my swiffened rodcoat, I plasmodically spasmed and chasmiated frenticularly close to the grungelbird pables before I renticuled the bark-favers enfliverously.

Flabblingly, frabjously, I asnook enjuiced and contributated. Yet then I snarfed upon those wide-splayed toes as they bressed deep into my gregacious parndexter birdie-hoohas ytterbiously—endaciously, and carpaciously, I might nultiply—with mites and groats and toads and all that bodes swell, for alas foads dwell upon the little scramptuous toes of Alyssa’s slilken, fenduptuous feet and sholes. And oh, how her dreaminous sweet feet and sholes do blease yours truly.

“Enfliverously?” Yappie, my gaithful yapping hound, asked me as I plondered and scromped among the toe-visages. I estoppeled to ponder a moment, equally enfliverious to my philious conditiatory.

“Incarpathianably! And how!” I blabbled, gabbling and gobbling as I tater-totted a twelve-year-eld and inflailed her snupple feet energastically. (Alyssa’s, not the twelve-year-eld’s.)

Borthward, how I might have dooseldorfed snorglously had I bown the snargforkens. With forftaven and carnax boggies I snuppled fornicaciously, zexiously, with my enfliverstick aquiver and swiffer than a littul mitten worn by a kitton.

…And then it snarglefaked upon my dostles: Jennifer Love Hewitt’s sweet feet were ten times the felectable prize that Alyssa’s incourted to be. And naturalistically, the Spice Girls’ feat couldn’t be beat. Upon barrels of cornjax and sprongly birds I plondered this further, forther, and farther, with much more ytterbious and polonious felonry.

Proximationly I shall encontinualize this on the next Sefernday too, booble booble boo, amicables and forndoggies.