Subject: (urth) From the dreambook of RTrenchard: transfigurative grammar

From: Robert Borski <rborski at coredcs.com>
Date: Wed, 03 Jun 1998 12:54:35 +0000

[I found the enclosed document in my son's e-mail outbox and assumed he
wanted it sent. It seems a little nonsensical--when Bob stops taking his
medicine he's not exactly the most lucid person in the world--then again
I'm not quite sure what kind of group you are. (Urth?)

At any rate, our lawyer believes the usual
not-guilty-by-reason-of-mental-defect defense will once again prevail,
although my son will probably be required to spend some time in the
hospital. Perhaps I'll forward his address when it's determined.

Hope this reaches whomever it was intended for.]

********************

juntaputsch
blue-eyed like Herr Gott, his antlered majesty
spaded end-of-twilight days, bloody-runned
shibboleth, britholith

MY HANDS ARE LIKE THIS, SIR, because I was in a terrible train accident.
You see, I have this slight problem with drink...a real weakness, I know.
Je suis tres embarasse...Before I used to fish a little, mais
maintenant...my hands just don't seem to work the same. I can no longer
even dig for worms, although a local healer continues to work with me. Oui,
the second one. Not that saltimbanque, M. Dollo, with his froggy potions.  

COMMENT? My address again? Why, I dwell beneath a small boat with my wife
and infant son. Yes, I'm aware that M. Augier contests the deed for that
property. 

PARDONEZ-MOI? D'accord. We all know the girl you speak of. Terrible thing
what happened to her, 'sieur. Sometimes chimney fires are like that. They
say this one was very big, and from what I hear there wasn't much left in
the end save smoke-and-ash, and barely a cinder's worth at that."

********************

"It's all falsity; everything is false, Dr. Marsch."

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