Wednesday, 8 February 2017
she inherited a million bucks and when she died it came to me
I can't help it if I'm lucky
I bin doubleX'd now for the very last tyme
and now I'm finally free
I x'd goodbye 2 the howlin' beast
on the borderline which separated u from me
By the time it got to February 8 2017 Kolee ?Ynnit (ms) felt like she could breathe again.
As she had learned from her recent haranguing on the docks at the handwash of the prophet Nostlikeymen, today was one of the 64 key dates of the year. !Hell, not just one of those key dates, but the SEVENTH key date in the series.
In tymes which tingled to a 5 -7 -5 dangle, that was a pretty momentous thing to take on bored.
So it was that, at the end of the day, K had the death of parody hanging over her head
like a spongehawk in a saltbath ffs; on top of which she had a parrot to take care of, !wtf !
It is fair to say that K?Y(ms) would be up in front of the beak much sooner than she had dared to imagine.
he hears the ticking of the clocks and walks along with a parrot that talks hunts her down by the waterfront docks
where the sailors all come in FD
Koleespolly, as the bird was to become, had been passed down the female line of the
?Ynnits since Eternity began.
At one point it had been in the safekeeping of the CrotchetyWindbugged aunt,
who re-named the bird VouchsafEternity, on the one claw because of the parrot's aptitude in handing out apparent compliments with faux-grace and condescension, and, on the other, because the bird had promised, on the life of its Kazbek cuzzes, to maintain the lie that CW's safe merely contained relatively disabused documents, rather than a stash of extorted roubles hidden in truth from the greasy-grench of abusive relatives.
As CW had, in her primal years, established protocol liaison with a dancing, Kalahari lumberjack, she developed a taste for logger rhythmic function ; an 'algebraic bent' for sure, though this particular passion waned after one such had taken off with her lumberpartner.
Well, VouchsafE, never slow in picking things up, matured into a pollymath ;
a pollymathuselah in fact, given the parrot's lugubrious longevity.
This biblical bag be bemusingly fitting, bearing in mind the religious rightyness stuffed down V's throat from a rife young age. Orthidummy or taxidummy, !your choice fuckwit CW had reiterated on umpteen occasions, sloshing her Cab Sauv over
Fukwit's cage with consomme relish.
As a consequence of this shattered upbringing, V had learnt to 'f and blind' like a trope urn, flavouring the expression
!fuck unto others a'fore they fuck unto you
call yourself Kristian !? Kunt ,
which could be awkward when the neighbour of that very name occasioned to call.
Still, if VouchsafE thought that Windbugged was the devangle come to belouge the wingnuts of those blown off course, he/she clearly hadn't met Kolee ?Ynnit(ms)' systa. !Oh no
?Ynnit's systa, it is fair to say, had a mush that could hush public transport.
Such insurmountable unglush that busses would break down uncontrollably,
with auto rescue squads suddenly otherwise engaged, having hijacked the first available plane to La Paz.
When Windbugged slipped into sudden ill-health, Systa saw an immediate opportunity to make hay while the sun refused to shine. On the premise of looking after CW,
Sys moved in with aunt and parrot, hockshock and burial, soon establishing a Rain of Terror with dastardly aplomb.
Such that in the neighbouring mango swamp the megafruitbats were having kittens,
in the close-by cat shelter the ragmogs were pawing their harts out, and in the round-and-abouts the park deer were just hanging around having lost all sense of purrpuss.
The R of T was in all honest more Guantanamera than Guantanamo, butt it didn't stop the parrot from mailing the Kazbek cuzzes pictures of itself covered in plasters masking apparent cuts and bruises from pissedSysta frenzicuffery
- well that was Vouchsafe's stor(e)y and (s)he was sticking to it.
Neither did it stop either of the old birds having regular nightmares, relieved only fleetingly by sweetdreampics of a pantyhosed ?Ynnit parading the docks with The Prophet ; a fact that emerged from the expletive-packed, morning conflabs between our two kahooters
( though how&why ?Ynnit was so tightly woven into the dreams of both of them is
surely a mystery best left mysterious. )
One day, though, it all went tits down.
Systa's standard walcritch Your a fuckin' ded-duk ! U malvingerous muffbukket
had its usual impact on Team VouchsafE/Windbugged, whereby one of them would hop to their hideout in the shed-wardrobe, whilst one of them would hop up the road to goode-olde
Mr Wellings who would always present a wise-olde shoulder on which to weep and question the meaning of life. For blinde-olde Mr W welcomed a b(r)eak from his daily rootings of yoga rumbling and mole filching, with a visit from the malvingerer he referred to as The Noo Oldie, or, with sudden front / soddenYfront / nettleyW(h)iney embarrassment which happened more than he cared to happen The Noode Oldie.
History may also observe that at least one of the now hysterical muffbukkets
will have probably taken considerable offence at being referred to as a (-)duk ,
let alone a ded(-) one.
In any event, parrot VouchsafE and/or aunt Windbugged emerge from hiding that day looking for all their worth like Therese Raquin's belle-mere.
And later on the chimes of the nightChimera will announce three corpses
lying on CrochetyWindbugged's kitchen floor.
SO WE COUNT THE DEAD
( THE ONE WHO KNOW ALL THE ANGLES
THE STRAIT MATHEMATICIAN
AND POLLY GONE )
!so we count the dead ! ( kunts ) ! so we count the dead !
VouchsafEternity was squelking to no-one in particular, butt
especially to itself. Whether or not the parrot knew that
?Ynnit(ms) would be walking through Windbugged's front door
at that very moment (with a key too one might assume),
or whether it just happened to be that way was a question
best left to medical science and/or VouchsafE's Kazbek cuzzes.
For Kolee, it was a clear case of her acquiescing to the chimes of
the nightChimera, before coming across three stiffs splayed out
on CW's kitchen floor.
VouchsafE jumped out of her/his skin when (s)he heard Crotchety's
other niece rasp :
?!whats with the cunting innit ?eh ! bird
Well the bird would have jumped had its skin been jumpable-out-of
and it would have jumped further when it saw what was apparently Systa
hovering over it ; for it be fair to say that Systa and Systa's sister, K ?Y(ms.),
were so alike as to be like so likeable and/or unlikeable twins, were it not for
a significant difference in insurmountable unglush.
VE had to pinch itself - well would have done had it been able - to understand that it was Systa's sister and NOT Systa standing above it.
So Kolee and VouchsafE count the dead together:
1 2 the OneWhoKnowAllTheAngles the StraitMathematician !Hmmm defo 1 2
I bin expectin' three stiffs
Kolee then explain to the parrot,
OWKATA SM and PollyGone ! too
!Well retort the unmovable, mimickingmagicking bird
poly defo not gone poly defo here stuklikefuk squashed under Sys and Crotch
! dedduks defo
!?Butt if not oorpsitose i thort u mite be commitose at the very leest innit insist ?Ynnit
Yup!cummytosecrummytose !no comfytose thats4sure not when me kuntinklaws are caught fast crushedlikefuk now !get these dundershitwits off me ?y dunt ya ? (h)mMm !pleezpretypleezpretypolypleez ! ffs
some tyme in the future
LOYNE : So let me get this straight, Ms. ?Ynnit. You are saying that this pseudo-catatonic
parrot, aka Koleespolly, be a purveyor of blind magickry sooner than purrblind
LOYNE : . . . coming up with stuff off its own back indeed ! hmMmmm
mashed rather than re-hashed language, invented sooner than inverted words
LOYNE : butt not to labour the point ! Kolee
a parrot that's led this (w)hole-farrago,
that's had us all going,
a parrot that has, in no certain terms,
that capacity to just make shit ! up
LOYNE : Yet Kolee this gory laborious story this folly of Koleespolly
?YNNIT : O !yeh im goin to see wayne sleep soon innit
LOYNE : O !? he still dancing
?YNNIT : O ! no not realy not in soo many words
people tell me it's a sin to know and feel too much within
I still believe she was my twin but(t) I lost the ring
she was born in spring but(t( I was born too late
blame it on a simple twist of fate FD
a folly you've foisted on this wally ! good golly
this preposterous piece is the paltry product pedalled by a pissed-off parrot
where Loyne be lernin' more about Wayne (all the tyme)
and ! it's a pretty polly site for sore ears
?YNNIT : and id buy im kwoissants cos he loved em rite
and sometymes id go out on a lim
and well id get im almand kwoisses
and hed then give me a rite gud goin over ?alrite
?YNNIT : !noo not like that i meen a reel good slappin ! innit
LOYNE : Just for getting him almond croissants ?
?YNNIT : yep
LOYNE : Nut problem I assume ?
?YNNIT : !your not rong there sik your not wrong there !
L : Then you tacitly approved ? of his subterfuge
L : You allowed him to hide in your wardrobe when Systa visited
?Y : yup
L : Why ?Kolee
?Y : cuz he say she were the Devil
L : !Hmm(m)m
?Y : butt she alwaze new he were there !?rite
L : Because she was psychic, I assume
?Y : nah she stenched im innit ! he smelled like a skunksKunt
L : Oh ! (no) a skunk would have been quite enough there I think , Ms. ?Ynnit
?Y : ! your not wrong there sik your not rong there !