The saga continues.......
Twas a shinybright earthspin, and the upover was a sheeny, cobaltic bluefest. High uptop the bigsmoke, the zeppelin zoo whished through the geogas. It was a baloonic ark, a sky-safari, and extrafactily, on this specicated earthspin, it was the dateplace for our man Morgan M. Morgansen and his lovebuddy, Destiny.
The passionpair lovestrolled through the animalium, pawtangled. Their see-globes met flit-tweets barlocked, finbeasts tanked and primates prisonized. Destiny superlated the snuffalunks, lollified the longnecks and rapturized the blackmasked rarebears as they bamboozled.
Baghidden in Destiny’s pawpouch, Madame Ballofur, Destiny’s pamperfied purrpet, see-peeped overbag, then re-snuggled bagwards, disimpressed.
The lovebuddies proximated themselves to ‘Rarebears Treatbuggy’. And there, costumated as a monochromic rarebear, stood the foodpenguin, lemonfaced as ever.
The duo partook in a pair of pinkfluff-pops. Destiny masticated her sugarstick saxifragously, leaving Morgan habberdashed. So hornified was he that he was blinkerfied to the slinkish arrivement of Lionel; Destiny's pre-now lovebuddy and a cognified smarmorific lothariator.
Morgan spit-swallowed at the sight of this regalite, this masculate heartstealer. Destiny’s see-globes frizzled sparklish as she permissed this Lionel to liplock her personpaw smarmily.
Oh he was a brazeful and bashless califrag this one, a testosteronic alphabeast, a maxified and magnificious Morgan mimic!
Morgan was shockshook out of his glaze by a “Yeeek!!” from a flabbergastic Destiny. Madame Ballofur had dissapparated, fleed the refugous innards of Destiny’s pawpouch and gone cat-about!
“Oh tragedous, wronghap! woed Destiny. “What uber-humalian, what alphaknight will revicinitate my flitulous fluff-friend?”
The be-stached suitors locked squintish see-globes, duel-bound.
The competing califrags seeked up and downish for the cutish catcritter. Lionel dove and dashed while Morgan creeped and purrcalled. But the perduous purrpet was noplace to be see-globed.
Lucklacking, Morgan slomped, downbeat onto a longtree personholder, aside the foodpenguin, who so happed to be on his workgap. The gent was chomping a speary eatstick, a Mousecub-kebab of impaled fieldfurries, their pinkeyes, scarestuck, their ringlet tailstrings rigormortised.
Morgan hammocked his topbulb in his personpaws, and let a long stream of air out of his facehole.
“I see your perduous purrpet has enbuddied the purrbeast” benefacted the foodpenguin, a tailstring twingling betwixt his citrus lips.
Sure as earthspins, there, in the bigmaned purrbeasts barbox, was Madame Ballofur, cutish snoogled under the purrbeast’s enormopaw and jubbified to the max.
As Morgan fastly vicinitated himself to the barbox for his fluff-freeing feat, Lionel apparated, duel-ready. Bashless, the malsuitor uprolled his arm coverers and brawl-begged.
Someplace a dinger dinged and the leisurespot hencecame a duellish painpit.
The prized personette apparated. Her tumbox tumbled at the see-shock of her pre and present lovebuddies bashbrawning while her fluff-friend remained catnapped.
“Anyperson, deperilize my poorly purrpet” she worded, pleady.
The flabgabbets fapslapped, duckdove and flee-jigged, slam-bammed, limb-cranked and flankyanked, pridelocked in their duelling dance. Outmuscled, Morgan was fastly grounded. The opportunous Lionel backstepped, primed for a grandslam.
Sametime, the geishily pro-Morgan food’panda’ fastflung his yeuchstick into Lionel’s painpath.
Mid-murderous lurch, Lionel sillyslipped on the foody-trap sending the mousemorsels skygliding into the purrbeast’s barbox! Lionel yeeked, girlish, as he upfooted, then downslammed. (Gogglebirds tweeted circlish round Lionel’s dazed headfront.)
Morgan uprighted himself, pummelpuffed. He fastglance spied that the bigmaned junglegiant was now divertously nomming the catapultous yeuchtreat. The purrpet was guardless!
Morgan chest-puffed and perilpared himself. Destiny lash-flapped, butterflated, as her true alphaknight shimmied the barbox .
Our daysaver slinked into the dangerden and, padsoft, toe-stepped petwards. He pawscooped Madame Ballofur into his toplimbs and fastly exit-aimed.
Still groundbound, that dastardly dipstick, Lionel, catcalled, diverting the junglebeast from his eatbait and vectorizing his feline see-globes to our man Morgan!
Morgan fastfooted safewards, supernormal speedish, the agrowled purrmonster yappish at his leg-ends.
Destiny masked her see-globes with a personpaw, too tumtangled to spectize.
In an awefeat of wowness, Morgan springpulted somersaultish and downdropped to the safe and sound, with Madame Ballofur tightlocked underlimb.
Destiny quickish snoogled her freed fluff-friend then angled, bambi-eyed, Morganwards. Her headfront was awash with apprecious butterflation and fullheart lovelust.
Lionel, diminuated, and ungruntled, his alphastate debunked, slinked into the noplace, selfsaying some gibberjack about an afternow vengement.
Madame Ballofur frisbeed an infosquare to the blubtrolling junglegiant. The enormokitten liplifted - jubilated to have acquainted this new purrpal.
Destiny snooglebroke, suddenish and touched her bottom lip with her topchompers.
“Morgan M. Morgansen, you are my solo lovebuddy, my butterflative manpet, my testosteronic alphaknight!”
Morgan pinkified at this linguistic lovepouring, then fullface liplocked his lovebuddy.
Morgan shut a solo see-globe at the panda-dressed pro-pair person. The foodbringer liplifted, recapitated his rarebear headcover and disapparated, leaving the lovejoined duo to consommize their recoupling.
And, as the great balloonic ark whished upover the skags of suburban Sellosedge, little did they comprend that this enormoblimp entained not only a plethora of rarepets, but also, a duet of the most felicitous persons in the fullglobe infinispace; Morgan M. Morgansen, and his Destiny.
The word ‘xylophone’ was coined by the instrument’s inventor during a game of scrabble in order to secure an epic game-winning triple word score.
Well it seems this never quite made it over from V3 and I have no backup since my macbook died :( Hopefully I'll get access to the old archives at some point and reinstate it!
Added some basic images n' stuff to tart it up. :) In case they're too small - here's the text!
Elliptical allies encircle you with
Their illusions of friendship
Geometry lets slip
Their ovals for eyes
And triangles for tongues
Angles acute and accusing
Obstructing obtusely they radiate
Beauty, symmetrical certainty
Parallel paths never
Meet till oblivion
Wrote this in my head on the way to my crappy job this crappy morning.
So many maimed umbrellas,
Tortured skeletons haphazardly discarded,
Abandoned in anger
A poem inspired by the great Godard.
I run a thumb across my lip
and I am Breathless;
a walking homage
to a classic debut
I remember how,
with such contemp...
A crackling campfire kaleidoscopes the black with blaze. All else elsewhere is ether. Lit lampish lounges a travelling-type, bedraggled Bedouin of the city-skirting scrublands. His lingering fig...
An interchange about a catflap using made up words for the BYOW collab
The Day Morgan M. Morganesen’s Luck Changed
Morgan M. Morgansen was a capricitious califrag, who spent h...
A second part to my made-up-word story about the rosemantic endeavours of a character called Morgan M. Morgansen.
Morgan M. Morgansen
Morgan M. Morgansen’s Date with Destiny
A narration/script/story to tie together two of JacksonBlack's amazing works. Would love to see an animation of this or them..
Little Batty was the lonely, only bat left in the who...
The saga continues.......
Twas a shinybright earthspin, and the upover was a sheeny, cobaltic bluefest. High uptop the bigsmoke, the zeppelin zoo whished through the geogas. It was...
(Inspired by LittleBirdBlue's amazing drawing and Bloemday's caption)
The Wink was a world-weary, wizened old soul who preferred his own company to that of anyone else by a good long way...
- Like Machiavelli
Aaanyway if anybody wants to play with the song just shout and I'll upload separate tracks! :)
You get your kicks
From throwing sticks and stones
At my sorry bones
Then you cry out and cause
You make the most fuss
They’ll assume that the sleight is your own
I’ll watch you dig your shallow pit
And let you bury yourself in it
Your thinly veiled theories
Make me oh so weary
I am not blinkered to your traps
The others might follow
Your promises hollow
Your counterfeit treasure maps
You play us as though we
Were pieces in your game of chess
The bishops are servants
The knights are all nervous
But Queens won’t bow down like the rest
Illusions like yours don’t last long
But til then I’ll keep singing my song
A simple song I sang. Written of an evening in glorious drop D and recorded rather amateur-ly by my good self. I hope it brings you something. Joy? I dunno.
Look the guy up - such a tragic story - such a talent. Just don't listen to his songs straight after mine - the contrast in quality may give you an ear attack :)
- Out of Time
Tick tock tick tock etc....a song I wrote pondering the shortness of our little lives Thought this might be useful for the Time collaboration thingy...until I realised I was ironically probably out of time - Still, let me know what you think please. Recording and harmonising is a little messy but I hope you will forgive that!
- Little Foxes
Wirrow's foxy illustration reminded me of a song I wrote so I thought I'd share. xx
Little foxes lead the way
Trust their instincts
They know the way the land lays
Little insects, underfoot, are maimed
That’s the law of all things
There’s a code that we don’t know at play
In the spaces between things and in things
In every night every day
Do you feel it, hear it ring?
Little foxes know everything
Do you believe it? Breathe it in
Little foxes know everything
Do you believe it
Even in your skin
You’re a part of it all
A part of it all
Made a short film today :) Thanks to tom (knucklesupper), lawrie, jon, richie and cerebis!