Nozze di Figaro Die Zauberflöte

A scolding of scalawags scurried across the sideways sot to besotted. The man without a hat jeered, his eyes ablaze with wick and ire. ‘…dare I say stop that nonsense you scalawags, if it were upside to me you’d be leeside, portside inside the hour…’. The scalawags made a hard right turn, veering into the awning of the Seder’s grocery, a split rickety on the swerve in. ‘Off with your hats you filthy cunts…!’ A wee cunt of a lad heaved the stave-pole high, parley missing the skip-top of his head. ‘That’ll be the day’ said the man with no hat, ‘barely a codger’s rump between the seaside and the shore…’ Angling on, the lad jagged the stave pointed into the awning, unreeling the awning-cord, the sheeting cooping to the leeside port, ‘…nifty does it’ bellowed the man with no hat, ‘…pull the yardarm stern left, that’ll make the prate-side bluff’. The scalawags beaded to the left, shoring the awning sheeting thrice to a dozen. ‘I’ve had quite enough’ bawled the man with no hat, ‘…enough indeed’. Whilst while this was happening the shamble leg bumpily bumped into the littlest of the scalawags, upending the man with no hat to a measure beyond measure, sending him caroming into the outside manor, sac-upon-sacrum of Icelandic söl, good for what measures you, inside or out. Mahler to Mendelssohn latti (Giuseppe) Domenico dues Requiem Nozze di Figaro Die Zauberflöte Schumann shoehorn eases Plantar fascitis, Rochmaninov in E miner wee lads a bunting. The man in the hat went about his day, the scalawags making good for the Waymart, the man with no hat yawing after the wee cunt of a lad ‘…mark my words, tomorrow comes before yesterday’s news… sac-upon-sacrum’.