You're the most prettiest, sveltest, brightest and swankiest girl
She's Miss Always-at-full-throttle-about-to-take off-speed
Miss don't you think you need to throttle back a bit eh?
Go away you rattler.
Hey Miss you work as jukebox operator in New York eh?
Fiddlesticks. And, don't you feign omniscience and pretend you knew that word -- Mister Pseudo in Dojo. How many dans huh? Korea or Japan?
I'm an Indian Samurai with Japanese conviction of military and political brilliance -- the brilliant military mind --
Knight in what armor?
Nope. No. paramour.
His Vietnamese paramour was a young woman of remarkable beauty. —Neil Sheehan, A Bright Shining Lie, 1988 -- Did you read that huh? Mister Well-read -- Egghead and Intellectual?
Hey Mister Whirling Dervish: Let's elope?
… might have mistaken him for … some scarecrow eloped from a cornfield. — Washington Irving
You mean: You and I. Folk hero and Miss Really-real-Broke. Tsk, esk No hope!
Hey Mister Are you a saboteur?
Firefly's ire in your satire, Miss Minefield.
Rollins was practicing yoga and reading spiritual texts—books about Buddhism, Sufism, and especially Rosicrucianism, a complicated belief system based on esoteric manifestos devised by a secret brotherhood of alchemists and sages.
—
Amanda Petrusich, The New Yorker, A Quest to Rename the Williamsburg Bridge for Sonny Rollins, 5 April 2017
Yep. Yep. I know you must've told me -- and er-drat-ahem--I must've forgot--that you bunked your blackboard jungle that day. Righto? My Mister Wrong with Left leanings huh?
Hey Miss Mulfunctioning Toll Gate I'm vrooming out to date -- meet my girl: The One in My Scroll of Fate. My Karachi Fiasco. My Bombshell. My Miss Choas. Get real. Fix yourself. You glitch. You snag. Boastful brat -- mousy and feral cat. Drat. Miss Couch Potato and Bean Bag. I'm Mister Dog Tag. Telly Game. By the way, Miss Lolita: Do you have a nickname eh? Vladimir Nabokov -- did he use to drink whisky? Or Vodka Courage? Short-lived and Fake Russian frenzy. You are datable eh? That itself is an endless debate. Krait? For a Mongoose like me -- She's real Caviar -- and, you're sushi mixed with salty fish-eggs!
Whatever.
Today we recognize alchemy as a pseudoscience, and give chemistry its rightful place as a serious scientific field, but the two terms initially overlapped in meaning before separating by the 17th century, just as astrology and astronomy did during the same period.
You're a charlatan. Is that your computer or Ouija?
It's impossible to argue with those true believers, as they think any counterevidence is proof of an evil conspiracy
true believers who fought the good fight even when it was out of fashion
true believer huh? triple–header.
Vedic what? Get a real groovy abacus.
… a morning rush of zombielike office workers, all starved for caffeine and clamoring for cappuccino. — Bob Filipczak
Tea shack huh? zomboid zombielike zombie.
Yep. Yep. Miss egocentric Bermuda Triangle Mystery.
Mister voodoo. kudos.
Delusional social climber thinks she's really real Poison Ivy -- Nope. No way. That's My Porcelain Doll. My Fulla Doll. Razanne and Moroccan Barbies' Green Envy! My Baby. You creeper infested with creepy-crawlies.
Creep.
Yep. Please sweep me off my feet. Real Princess Syndrome. Am I Snow White? Ya. Ya. Get on that -- ya first flight. Morocco. Casablanca, here comes your Princess humdrum -- Are you ready? Where did you put those drums?
Beep. Beep.
Are you going to the prom?
he resolved to ask her to the school prom at the first opportunity
Yep. Yep. Do I look like a moron?
A Suitable Boy huh?
You really coy and shy eh?
Spy.
Peeping Tomism Tom.
Toast and Jam?
Stuck badly in traffic jam. Anyway, it's not my brunch gong.
She's Miss Always-at-full-throttle-about-to-take off-speed
Miss don't you think you need to throttle back a bit eh?
Go away you rattler.
Hey Miss you work as jukebox operator in New York eh?
Fiddlesticks. And, don't you feign omniscience and pretend you knew that word -- Mister Pseudo in Dojo. How many dans huh? Korea or Japan?
I'm an Indian Samurai with Japanese conviction of military and political brilliance -- the brilliant military mind --
Knight in what armor?
Nope. No. paramour.
His Vietnamese paramour was a young woman of remarkable beauty. —Neil Sheehan, A Bright Shining Lie, 1988 -- Did you read that huh? Mister Well-read -- Egghead and Intellectual?
Hey Mister Whirling Dervish: Let's elope?
… might have mistaken him for … some scarecrow eloped from a cornfield. — Washington Irving
You mean: You and I. Folk hero and Miss Really-real-Broke. Tsk, esk No hope!
Hey Mister Are you a saboteur?
Firefly's ire in your satire, Miss Minefield.
Rollins was practicing yoga and reading spiritual texts—books about Buddhism, Sufism, and especially Rosicrucianism, a complicated belief system based on esoteric manifestos devised by a secret brotherhood of alchemists and sages.
—
Amanda Petrusich, The New Yorker, A Quest to Rename the Williamsburg Bridge for Sonny Rollins, 5 April 2017
Yep. Yep. I know you must've told me -- and er-drat-ahem--I must've forgot--that you bunked your blackboard jungle that day. Righto? My Mister Wrong with Left leanings huh?
Hey Miss Mulfunctioning Toll Gate I'm vrooming out to date -- meet my girl: The One in My Scroll of Fate. My Karachi Fiasco. My Bombshell. My Miss Choas. Get real. Fix yourself. You glitch. You snag. Boastful brat -- mousy and feral cat. Drat. Miss Couch Potato and Bean Bag. I'm Mister Dog Tag. Telly Game. By the way, Miss Lolita: Do you have a nickname eh? Vladimir Nabokov -- did he use to drink whisky? Or Vodka Courage? Short-lived and Fake Russian frenzy. You are datable eh? That itself is an endless debate. Krait? For a Mongoose like me -- She's real Caviar -- and, you're sushi mixed with salty fish-eggs!
Whatever.
Today we recognize alchemy as a pseudoscience, and give chemistry its rightful place as a serious scientific field, but the two terms initially overlapped in meaning before separating by the 17th century, just as astrology and astronomy did during the same period.
You're a charlatan. Is that your computer or Ouija?
It's impossible to argue with those true believers, as they think any counterevidence is proof of an evil conspiracy
true believers who fought the good fight even when it was out of fashion
true believer huh? triple–header.
Vedic what? Get a real groovy abacus.
… a morning rush of zombielike office workers, all starved for caffeine and clamoring for cappuccino. — Bob Filipczak
Tea shack huh? zomboid zombielike zombie.
Yep. Yep. Miss egocentric Bermuda Triangle Mystery.
Mister voodoo. kudos.
Delusional social climber thinks she's really real Poison Ivy -- Nope. No way. That's My Porcelain Doll. My Fulla Doll. Razanne and Moroccan Barbies' Green Envy! My Baby. You creeper infested with creepy-crawlies.
Creep.
Yep. Please sweep me off my feet. Real Princess Syndrome. Am I Snow White? Ya. Ya. Get on that -- ya first flight. Morocco. Casablanca, here comes your Princess humdrum -- Are you ready? Where did you put those drums?
Beep. Beep.
Are you going to the prom?
he resolved to ask her to the school prom at the first opportunity
Yep. Yep. Do I look like a moron?
A Suitable Boy huh?
You really coy and shy eh?
Spy.
Peeping Tomism Tom.
Toast and Jam?
Stuck badly in traffic jam. Anyway, it's not my brunch gong.
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