It might be useful yes, insofar as being heard, but to produce quality output it would be a fairly gross way to go about it... might i suggestion you inflect the voice instead.
Originally posted by Mr. Robin Parsons
While strolling in the park, one day, in the very merry month of May, I came by my surprise, upon a feast with mine own two eyes...what the heck was it?
You know, it's funny you should ask that quetion because once, when I was recovering from Fish Jelly poisoning, it ocured to me that the fish they made the jelly from might have been stung by a jelly fish, which wouldn't have been the fish's fault. So, why don't jelly fish sting themselves? The reason is they don't care to. They sting other fish. It's a fish sting fish ocean.
Very close, yes very close, I have in fact been stung[/color] by a soon-to-be-dead bee... I have also bitten a beetroot, been hit on by a deadbeat, and take my coffee with milk and sugar. raw cane, if available.
So, "String a song of six beans, pockets in a row, how many beans, been 'beened', by the stringing out, we know,...tell a tale of stringy things, strung out in a thread, and all the while you'll find a 'ditty', in everything you've read!..."
A ditty serves to dance around a deed, in rhythmic patterns strung is every bead... of dew, that glistens from the starlit lawn, until the Queen moves into take the pawn.
It is impossible to predict what a Zooby may or may not notice, but the Quetion itself may interfere with the observable result.
What a strangely charming quizical quirk of a quarky quetion...as it is the clearest of things that quantum mechanics work on nanoauto's...or autonano's wait, I didn't go yet, (where the heck is that zoobyshoe,... he should have been answwering this quetion not me! I'm Drunk (really! see *hic* there! that proves it!)...well not really drunk, but i had a beer. ooops did I say that out loud what??/) Uhmm well they work on these really really really really really little cars, I mean autos, I mean...oh I giv e u-p!
It depends on whether or No T you're falling over in the woods at the time. (Caused by stubbing your T.o.E.)
Zoob, this is he stupid quention forum thread, you are supposed to ASK A QUENTION!
All writing, no matter how inscrutable, automatically becomes perfectly legible when there is no one there to read it, yes.Will Mr. Robin Parsons be able to read this quetion with his dirty glasses?
Zoob, this is he stupid quention forum thread, you are supposed to ASK A QUENTION!
Perhaps the quention[/color] asked herein
Yes, if answered, it gives the "drink of knowledge"...unless properly answered, then it give the gift of laughter
i supppppose there munt be an ulterior untension to distinguish from the anking of a reqular question ... but more elusive to me is the absence of a quetion when aking one could not be simpler.
The threaded thistle is used because no one has found a better, cheaper substitute. That's what for.
I most often have it in a bowl, but truly I'm not too preferential and will happily eat it out of any number of receptacles including, but not limited to, cups, flat plates, pots or pans (non-stick or aluminum or stainless steel or...), paper cones, icecream cones, giant oyster or abalone shells, cone shells, pine cones, pine needles, needle threaders, threaded thistles... ok i am exaggerating. indeed, this is a silly sketch. and now for something completely different:
42.
Well "molarity" must be out of the question, followed by that other thingy there "Grama's Mole" or sumthing liken that, so how many moles does it take to make a molehill, bout a mountains worth, I'da herd, but you should have seen her a chewing that there nut, still in that avocado too just a chompin and a bitein, Ooooops that was the Dog...o.k. what was the answer again, I mean question oh Ya, that Avogadroes guy thing, useing a calculators a good way, I heard...and a scale, a really really accurate one.
Cough. splutter. gulp. Ummmmmmmm... Can't touch this.
By useing a kitty Posse choreographer, or calculate their respective positions and call Hurkyl, he's really good in 'ordinate' math...
Find yerself a Rudolf, fit him with a deluxe, battery-operated glowing red Parsonalized® nosepiece, and all the Dancers should fall in line, right along with all the Dashers, and Prancers, and Vixens...
You know, it's funny you should ask that quetion, because once, when a polish aviator of my acquaintence had just returned from a hard day's night hauling Christmas presents to the poverty stricken daughters of coal miners, his rosey, alcoholic nose happened to be running, and since he was too cold or drunk to realize it, the moist patch running from his nostrils to his upper lip was soon darkened by the coal dust floating in the air of the little West Virginia community such that there did arise a certain Rudolf/Adolf confusion about his appearance.Once I was floating aimlessly on my back in a canal in Venice, Italy, with a photograph of Ludwig Van Beethoven propped up on my stomach facing me where I could keep an eye on the pesky, ill tempered composer, when a man came floating by in a similar arrangement except that he was supervising a photograph of ill tempered Russian composer, Igor Stravinski. Which of us was right?
Just finished discussing this with some Drunken Polish aviator of an aquaintence of, well, someone else, (other then myself) and was told that neither were right,...one was 'aft', and the other was 'forward' ("apparently" but nary a face slapppin was heard, so wedding plans are a nigh...so we's hears) and the other one was somewheres abeam of the entire thingy, so when juxtapositioning the alterior motif's of the arrangements, of others, we must ensure that the music is playing, and not the musaK!
Mainly, he was not demoted from aviator to flier. Nor was he promoted from acquaintence to best buddy. I know him through friends. Casually. He keeps to himself, his martinis, his cockpits, his freelanz, at home, experiments with mice and carcinogens, his peculiar habit of shaving his eyebrows and drawing them back on with a ballpoint pen. Oh, he throws a great party, but deep down no one knows him. Acquaintence of all, friend to none. The mysterious Mr. F.
Don't I indeed. To be Frank I might, in fantasy perhaps, but not in deed! Why, fancy that!
Well, I went over to her house, to conduct the interview, as to determine just why "Brew-as Dark as midnight", but she was add'amint, with me, that, NO! she didn't know a darn thing!
