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Further visages of feet-&-toes

Hieroticalized on May 6, 2007.

While sleepcrying myself to death in the closet proved to be no pfhun upon all, I instead enquivered this week to postumate daily on the fineness—the exquisitivity—and fenduptuousness of Ravna Olegg-Thorssondóttir’s feet-&-toes. Ensmenglously I ponderated this, her feet-&-toes graduously hieraticalized in my pwee little mind, the ten tiny little yttuberances wiggling and schmiggling happily in my thaughts and dreams—dreams both xerographic and much more hydrological in nature.

I boaned smorflously, thinking hierphatically about her feet-&-toes, those sweetest toes, there before my fascicles, my nesticles, and pesticules, …animalcules! Animalcules! We all snarf down! Down, down, down go the toesies, down go the feetsies, whee, whee, wheetsies…

At my signal Ravna jiggled emblously, giggling as I fickled her feet-&-toes in my bhands. I snarked. I smackled facklously, even encouragiating her to kiggle my horsenpfeffers enflabblously, my hieratic urgency stiffening to a fleeful shout of “Osmax! Osmax! Gleepful snarkisms and gradualchasms! Ooooh, hey hey now, foo feymith now, your feet-&-toes sure are a thing to play with now!”

“Phall—illi—illi—illip…” Ravna enquavered, but I would schmear none of lit. Her hands draveled navelously across my slowliful. I beeped lightly.

Renticulously the visages of Ravna’s nuscious feet-&-toes smuzzled against my beck and yall gave way to larger emblemasms of Östfalian Snoozling Gnomes… flacking enough to parndaggle her dreamy feet-&-toes from my mind, their filken white goodness and creamy snuppleness gone from my temples and pleasure gomes. Gomes. Gnomes. Gnomes?

She hoopled a bit as her nose squidged morkishly. “Wakaka,” I snuttered.

And then it happened: Poor Ravna leapt upon her feet-&-toes and skittered off, leaving me in the flutches of a gillion and five Östfalian Snoozling Gnomes with corncups and borndoggles in their hands, and squassation and related forments on their mind, for yours truly.