irish wedding cake plus commentary

commentary, remark, note, addenda, preface postface, re-face. no face.common face. common cause. mysterious buckle. trollope in a vein. buttocks in a backseat. rock star punkette bloggette . cursed hour! swiftian trope repartee.

Naturally this text is a comic one and resides in the realm of pure fiction. Clifford Duffy is not married to anyone. [ Actually we got that wrong: Clifford Duffy is not married, period. Not as you wrote. That is too definitive and limits the connotative possibles of yer enunciated whatyamacallit. Yea, yea. Yea, yea. Is.]
He_ is that yer first word?
She _ well darling come on my lap feel my tasted text wrapping itself the length of your slim sentence. Yer assemblage is the one I adore. Yer cockmanence is the goddess I see. I hear its pulse up here in me spine as trawled I do the lake outside Dublin. At me mam's last fortnight I just knew youwere South to me North. I cam e cutting yer text with lovellistedlust.------
She_ U mean you dont love me?
Clifford Duffy _ love? are you kidding? when I hear the word love, I want to vomit. each time the word love crosses the mouth of these god forsaken craytures ya know yer in trouble.
She_ well how about do you like F__ k with me? ( these days censoring oneself is sexy)Sucking my ya know what, especially as I spread my thighs as wet as two cows udders under Howth Castle and my peeping anus rainbow stuck way out there like a honey dried bacon seed? me darling CD. Is yer play my best arse? I think your a bitextual built for one hundred thousand molecule sex and more. I mean when I tink of the shites that have come and gone tasted yer pipe, played yer flute, well the hairs on my cunninlingus stand-up in outrage! My linguistic leprosy as the bitextual genre is one pure passage to become'd orgasm! I came 300 and 12 times when I read yer compose. Yer composed o'er my Liffey mister Duffy. Not shy as any barrister but a reel hoore in bed, ya are. O yer pipe in my succulent mouth was the heavenly gate opening to me vagina's last gate! O sweet f__ k ! My my what are you not capable of?
Cliffoarsiance.
rd Duffy _ you rave as always. A sweet thing with compose and rose up yer sweet irish briared arse. Yer arse to me is a banyan shade with many open doors. However, my slut ye ought to , dontchat that yer sexycunt is way more interesting to me. When I rode yer wombcacoomboomboom sexy sex I felt me cock growing beyond proportions AND knew knowing true love was on the way!
She and Clifford Duffy holding textual hands up each other'
s arse in hol[e]y

Whe they gotoutof prison shewas high rye addicted to his kiss. She took their kid texting to itslimitlibido.

irish wedding cake plus commentary

commentary and remarks, notes, addenda,  preface postface, reface. no face.common face. common cause. mysterious buckle.  trollope in a vein

Naturally this text is a comic one and resides  in the realm of pure fiction. Clifford Duffy is not married to  anyone.
------
She_ U mean you dont love me?
Clifford Duffy _  love? are you kidding? when I hear the word love, I want to vomit. each time the  word love crosses the mouth of these god forsaken craytures ya know yer in  trouble.
She_ well how about do you like F__ k with me? ( these days  censoring oneself is sexy)Sucking my ya know what, especially as I spread my  thighs as wet as two cows udders under Howth Castle and my peeping anus rainbow  stuck way out there like a honey dried bacon seed? me darling CD. Is yer play my  best arse? I think your a bitextual built for one hundred thousand molecule sex  and more. I mean when I tink of the shites that have come and gone tasted yer  pipe, played yer flute, well the hairs on my cunninlingus stand-up in outrage!  My linguistic leprosy as the bitextual genre is one pure passage to become'd  orgasm! I came 300 and 12 times when I read yer compose. Yer composed o'er my  Liffey mister Duffy. Not shy as any barrister but a reel hoore in bed, ya are. O  yer pipe in my succulent mouth was the heavenly gate opening to me vagina's last  gate! O sweet f__ k ! My my what are you not capable of?
Clifford Duffy _ you  rave as always. A sweet thing with compose and rose up yer sweet irish briared  arse. Yer arse to me is a banyan shade with many open doors. However, my slut ye  ought to , dontchat that yer sexycunt is way more interesting to me. When I rode  yer wombcacoomboomboom sexy sex I felt me cock growing beyond proportions AND  knew knowing true love was on the way!

commentary, remark, note, addenda,  preface postface, re-face. no face.common face. common cause. mysterious buckle.  trollope in a vein. buttocks in a backseat. rock star punkette bloggette .  cursed hour! swiftian trope repartee.

Naturally this text is a comic one and resides  in the realm of pure fiction. Clifford Duffy is not married to  anyone.
------
She_ U mean you dont love me?
----------------------------------------------

commentary, remark, note, addenda, preface postface, re-face. no face.common face. common cause. mysterious buckle. trollope in a vein. buttocks in a backseat. rock star punkette bloggette . cursed hour! swiftian trope repartee.

Naturally this text is a comic one and resides in the realm of pure fiction. Clifford Duffy is not married to anyone. [ Actually we got that wrong: Clifford Duffy is not married, period. Not as you wrote. That is too definitive and limits the connotative possibles of yer enunciated whatyamacallit. Yea, yea. Yea, yea. Is.]
He_ is that yer first word?
She _ well darling come on my lap feel my tasted text wrapping itself the length of your slim sentence. Yer assemblage is the one I adore. Yer cockmanence is the goddess I see. I hear its pulse up here in me spine as trawled I do the lake outside Dublin. At me mam's last fortnight I just knew youwere South to me North. I cam e cutting yer text with lovellistedlust.------
She_ U mean you dont love me?
Clifford Duffy _ love? are you kidding? when I hear the word love, I want to vomit. each time the word love crosses the mouth of these god forsaken craytures ya know yer in trouble.
She_ well how about do you like  F__ k with  me? ( these days censoring oneself is sexy)Sucking my ya know what, especially as I spread my thighs as wet as two cows udders under Howth Castle and my peeping anus rainbow stuck way out there like a honey dried bacon seed? me darling CD.  Is yer play my best arse? I think your a bitextual built for one hundred thousand molecule sex and more. I mean when I tink of the  shites that have come and gone tasted yer pipe, played yer flute, well the hairs on my cunninlingus stand-up in outrage! My linguistic leprosy as the bitextual genre is one pure passage to become'd orgasm! I came 300 and 12 times when I read yer compose. Yer composed o'er my Liffey mister Duffy. Not shy as any barrister but a reel hoore in bed, ya are. O yer pipe in my succulent mouth was the heavenly gate opening to me vagina's last gate! O sweet f__ k ! My my what are you not capable of?
Cliffoarsiance.
rd Duffy _ you rave as always. A sweet thing with compose and rose up yer sweet irish briared arse. Yer arse to me is a banyan shade with many open doors. However, my slut ye ought to , dontchat that yer sexycunt is way more interesting to me. When I rode yer wombcacoomboomboom sexy sex I felt me cock growing beyond proportions AND knew knowing true love was on the way!
She and Clifford Duffy holding textual hands up each other'
s arse in hol[e]y

Whe they gotoutof prison shewas high rye addicted to his kiss. She took their kid texting to itslimitlibido.

______________________________________________


for the lady O' the green













__________________________ was this she?

Take note of the whip like objet in de lady's hand

C/D total sinner requires control! (context: is the verb in this case, passive, active, transitive, intransitive? All replies must be postmarked before November 12, at which time a winner will be announced. A free 'billet d'avion' to the deluxed wedding of Duffy and said Lynda Miss Ireland world to be issued).

_______________________________________________________________________
____________________________________

I swear Bayjaysus the poor man's lost his
head over a golfing gal!
what a wee plunker he was!
as we wheezing along the road
with Dublin castle in view
&
Howth
head
ye'd a tink
we'd married allready!
& he
not
even
seventeen

craaalllwlling under me skirts!
de dirty boy!
a
scamp of a shagger
him
I'd say
he
was a
peeler's cross
over me
knees
ripe
for
his

p
u
n
i
s
h
m
e
n
t

the discontining saga broken junket of love's brown shit incomplete

      ___  love's a brown paper bag with a dollar sign strung around

its neck chunk chunk chunk chew chew chew you got it too

its red brown and shittier than a vase with a double dollar sign roun its neck

dollars to the good guys. sign and train. research for rich. come uppanance

for few . clacks the solo ricket. 

not a bleak view on your paid out fat stomach

.

                                                                                                            bulge of your culinary .

shitE

and the shit of love

puked its grain the excluded third first man

and the many.

t o say nothing

.

    whore

           .

shit to to the brown paper. exhausted poverty of expository. the pronouns drummed high death. a wilted life for the board of sack. venzetti and credit.

                                is that your voice forced? come along golly. folly to yer travel mania. the trips of the paid research scientist ar enot more legitimate than the infinite game of 'philosopher' and 'arts academic' and the eternal shine of the conference  game. what excludes excludes.

some say this is bad

others say it is their right. a land for free for all. and poor. the 'dark' has come moon and light. the world.a fortured light. screwed on the table.

___________________humdrum _ and blind. so the winging terror speaks. free a t final from sight that blinds

__________________________ the conspiracy's always been against love.

it's love that's attacked

love's that's punished

banished 

perjured

imagination

torched

so your reckoning the good

suffers

for the bad

as

the dual

tripe

buries

the

ripe

the 'rules' were not set 

by you

___________the big boys told me it was too long

the little boys and their girl companions

told me it was not

clear

and

didnt fit the match

ing square

box

(its too long

its not clear

=meant 

its too beautiful

too great

i cant cope

youre too

good

im fucked out

repressed

mummy lover

you fucked

me 

you are better than me Cliff

I hate your guts

 is what was meant

and perhaps

between the various forms of envy

and self loathing hatred

there was bitterness

about his long standing hysteric bitch

about to bereplaced what bereif

is this

?

by the second

hysteric

bitch

a grant wininning

separatist

complaining about her 'pays' 

(nationalisms's always been the cheap

shot of the weak and resentful

can you explain

what you were doing with this all these years

Ah ~ but it was of course a convenience

and nothing for you to lose your life

for

but your crummy rhetoric

about hands and planes

you fat one

you second rate imitation of the  truly creative

your spirit's always been 

rucked

by envy

)

(I was never fooled

after you kissed Alan Lord's arse

you gutless

asslicker)

(you had a fire once

but traded it in for the 

whatever it is of convenience

after I got sober

it looked for a time

yet you turned

into the parvenu

you'd denounced

years before

you always knew who to sidle up to didnt you?
you always had that handle

 )

and 

(your overbloated

oedipal pal

and his exploding head

whispered voice

sucking in all the young jacks

from the middle and upper middle class

of mcgill and concordia

the

game was well planned

wasnt it

and that sleazy two bit 'journlst

from that whore supported rag

mirros shit

  going on and on a

bout that bitter man Ian 

no mean performer

i admit

but you and your crew

had it sized up

eh?

down with Duff

y

if he dont parlay

the five ten minute

walk

you wanted

In

with 

the 

Generation

of

X

and their 

Kidss

and

so 

you

Did

eh

And that other blanked

headed foghorn

the 

kidd bust)

You always played

it safe

keeping

your cards

close

a

as

you said

to me

when I was 24

and you

23

)

her 'disctinct society'

and no 

doubt her society

was distinct

matching his moralistic

rage

t

the upspeak like

verssus

the spoken

rhetoric

of old

whiners

friends

who'd laid

their travel

plans

well

jerking

out the circus

for their freelunch

mister

americano

become canadiano

with his

two

french canadian

hysterics

and their separatists

politics

then the years

of sentencing 

that following

indenture

to the

crucifiyiing'

machine

of academic

holiness

and what is this

theory

of that

arse

whole

sniff

the of dead

'poet's

underware

his well worn

urn

yearn

his underware

and paradise pity

party

this

and so many others

came my way harming the hoot

harming the harmony

harming my love

harming my neighborliness

harming the truth

of the stillness

killin the joy

punishing the joy

-----------------------so now the pushy body of your sexy summer    ~ tear and wear now the division 

 but vision of love's patron   ~.

1.Mister Earl is on the way

2. galaxies travel in groups. blood vessels. clamp.the worst thing is scientist's upspeak. she came around the end of her arching. sentence. to try its booster. does it 

next weather rises. Zarathustra in 'outer space' lounging at cafe.  

3. CD: i was there once. yes.  

3B.  CP: and did you get married then?  You were teaching in Brazil in 1978 and Gail was in France. So you missed the 78 lectures . 

CD:Yes, I did but you know what it was exciting to spend close to a year in Brazil at that time. There were changes and exciting innovations in the fields that I was interested in. As for marriage I never got married to Gail. I never married her or anyone... it's  a tradition I don't marry, we live together . 

CP _ So after Brazil tell me  where did you go?

CD: I went to Montreal for a short visit , then Ireland proper, and after we went to what was called Yugoslavia ..  not for long.... In the fall I was back at Vincennes whenever I could.  All in all I lived overseas more or less permanently from 1972 until 1989. In the summer of 1970 I had attended a free art school called the Sussex school of Fine Ars.  In 1990, I came back here worked and published a book, Farewell Weather to Fine Friends that same year...  I had gone to  India, and Japan, and   a few places in North Africa (Egypt,  Mozambique) . I'd been to other Eastern block countries as well. I started a degree in England, but really the school I went to was Vincennes, and the times at Kingsly Hall, and later what was called the Arbours, Ann Arbours Association in Londond...  I told you this before.  In the 90's I began to stay in Montreal more... to work, and I started to think about taking actual degrees... but I waited a long time...

_______________________________

Caterpillar: Who are YOU?

Alice: This was not an encouraging opening for a conversation. I -- I hardly know, sir, just at present -- at least I know who I was when I got up this morning, but I think I must have been changed several times since then.

___________________

_______________________________MOnstrous hybrids

_____________________

Jill says to Dada enough politics    ~




_________________________

forest

__________________________

________________________________ the banshees

high across the mad world of politic  ~

I fled, but he pursu'd (though more, it seems, [ 790 ]

Inflam'd with lust then rage) and swifter far,

Mee overtook his mother all dismaid,

And in embraces forcible and foule

Ingendring with me, of that rape begot

These yelling Monsters that with ceasless cry [ 795 ]

Surround me, as thou sawst, hourly conceiv'd

And hourly born, with sorrow infinite

To me, for when they list into the womb
That bred them they return, and howle and gnaw
My Bowels, thir repast; then bursting forth [ 800 ]
A fresh with conscious terrours vex me round,

That rest or intermission none I find.
Before mine eyes in opposition sits
Grim Death my Son and foe, who sets them on,  __ Booke 2 Paradise Lost _ Milton

                                                       Every life is many days, day after day.
We walk through ourselves,

meeting robbers, ghosts, giants, old men, young

men, wives, widows, brothers-in-love.

But always meeting ourselves.

Stephen Dedalus  in  Ulysses   ~ (by James) (who else) Jjoyce

They are sundered by a bodily shame so steadfast that the criminal annals of the world, stained with all other incests and bestialities, hardly record its breach.

Sons with mothers, sires with daughters, lesbic sisters, loves that dare not speak their name, 

nephews with grandmothers, jailbirds with keyholes, queens with prize bulls.

The son unborn mars beauty: born, he brings pain, divides affection, increases care. He is a new male: his growth is his father's decline, his youth his father's envy, his friend his father's enemy   ~.

The Tyrant____ Porn in the U.S.A  ~--------------------------------

__ ____ Dada watch  the rollin____________________________________
------------------------------------------------------
________________ Dada watches the rolling waters of a potential tyrant dogmatic dictator   ~  t                                                            he images and texts in this post were copied and pasted from various sources and if ye follow the 

links you'll be brought along to the bloggers and webbers  dat made'em   ~

The lady where are the god bootS! Sieg Sarah!in Red_________________ and her commission from God   America A Prophecy
by William Blake


Preludium


The shadowy daughter of Urthona stood before red Orc.
When fourteen suns had faintly journey'd o'er his dark abode;
His food she brought in iron baskets, his drink in cups of iron;
Crown'd with a helmet & dark hair the nameless female stood;
A quiver with its burning stores, a bow like that of night,
When pestilence is shot from heaven; no other arms she need:
Invulnerable tho' naked, save where clouds roll round her loins,
Their awful folds in the dark air; silent she stood as night;
For never from her iron tongue could voice or sound arise;
But dumb till that dread day when Orc assay'd his fierce embrace.thinking of
 ~ 


she sees herself as Queen Esther  ~
the saviou r to her people
but shes 
the opposite
   

But where does this fear of reading ??????????????????
Dada BLoom:Well, we’re about to crash on the scale of 1837, the Great Panic, or 1929, and now we’re going to have the Panic of either 2008 or 2009. That is a consequence—it’s one of many consequences including a lot of innocent dead everywhere—of the way in which the counterculture ultimately, by its enormous recoil, helped give us George W. Bush and Sarah Palin. They are both semiliterate at best. They both exude self-confidence. And they both claim a direct relationship with God.
Hopefully she’ll disappear now, or just start a talk show or something. 
She is a very, very dangerous person.

Read the rest at Vice Magazine:  HAROLD BLOOM - PART 1 - Vice Magazine 

Sarah Palin's "America"

Submitted by Maverick on 9/7/10 11:03pm

nt

______________Maverick does a wonderful spin on Allen Ginsberg's America poem published in the late 1950's.

with humblest regards to the above

America you've given me millions and now I'm wealthy.

America two campaign managers and a GOP candidate August 27th, 2008.

I can't spell my own thoughts.

America when will you start another oil war?

I miss building atom bombs.

America when will you be evangelical?

When will you be pro-life?

When will you raise taxes on the poor?

When will you be stupid enough for your thousands of Tea Party activists?

America why are your libraries not full of my books?

I'm sick of your spend-o-crat liberals.

When will I be able to walk into a grocery store and see no organic products?

America after all it is I who is perfect and nobody else.

Your regulations are too much for me.

One day they'll make me a saint.

There must be some other way to exploit my family.

Obama's in office I think he'll get re-elected it's sinister.

I refuse to to cave to logic.

America stop voting the rich don't like it.

America the oil platforms are burning.

We should drill new ones.

I still read all the newspapers.

Every day some banker makes another million.

America I feel sentimental about Westboro Baptist Church.

                                                                                                  America I used to be fundamentalist when I was a kid.

I still am.

I smoke marijuana but pretend I don't.

I sit in my hotel suite for days on end and order room service on somebody else's dime.

When I go back to Alaska I do photo ops and never visit my friends.

You should have seen me reading Dan Brown and thinking it was good.

America I still haven't told you what I really said to Levi when I heard Bristol was pregnant.

Are you going to let your people listen to Fox News?

I'm always on Fox News.

There's a story about me at least once a week.

Its newscasters talk about me like I'm some sort of savior.

They're always telling me about accountability.

Politicians have to be accountable. Businessmen have to be accountable.

Everybody has to be accountable except apparently me.

I'd better consider my undeserved resources.

My undeserved resources are $250,000 speaking engagements

Millions in ghost-written book sales

A massive number of pointless PAC contributions

And TV shows that exploit my home state and family.

I say nothing about the underprivileged who have no health care.

I have confused the national dialogue.

Tomorrow I'll confuse the world.

America it's them bad terrorists.

Them terrorists them terrorists and them Mexicans.

And them terrorists.

Them terrorists hate our freedom.

Them terrorists want to take away our televisions.

Our news cycle wouldn't be complete without them terrorists.

It's true I don't want to get a real job

Or take responsibility for the damage I do to society.

I'm inarticulate and under-educated anyway.

America I'm putting my pointless shoulder to the wheel.___________________________________________________________________________

-______________________------------------ there's more to come the secret love letters of Queen Esther. She was fuckin day and night her poor tenement slum people e verrybuddy else two ______________________________________


And this artist  who reuses pornographic material to create a form of assemblage art that works really as a form of deterritorialization and reterritorialization  ~ meaning he take the material of shit and transform to art seeing    ~
 
-------------------------------------------------
 watch him discuss his method watch him discuss his method s


08/11/10: Artist Jonathan Yeo discusses why former Alaska governor and ex-vice presidential candidate Sarah Palin is a                                              subject for a portrait made out of cut-up pieces of pornography. 

                                                         The portrait was listed for $50,000 and sold in early August

_________________________ Made of the cheapest material available.. the close they get .. the detail the EYE reVeals the Meatus of the glazed concealing the ragged ...

 forms of contemporary stratification

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ ONthat day, as 

PORN - ART, Part 2 (NSFW) - Watch the top videos of the week here

part of the "Porn in the U.S.A." exhibition at the London-based Lazarides Gallery's L.A. pop-up space, British artistJonathan Yeo — who rose to international attention after making a collage of George W. Bush out of clippings of pornography in 2007 — will unveil another series of provocative collages. Among them you'll find Tiger Woods, Sigmund Freud, a wizened image of Sean Connery as James Bond, and the piece 

de resistance, Sarah Palin, wrapped in a moose head frame, no less. Instead of oil, the former Alaskan governor's face is rendered with images of pubic hair, lace panties, and engorged reproductive organs of both sexes. 

"They're not insults, per se," Yeo told ARTINFO. "They're just comments on people who trade off their morality and sexualitEE_ and her Despotic Case

trade On thEiR INSANE
THEOLOGY

Palinism is vampirism, as she leads her army of Zombies, who refuse to concede that carbon dioxide levels are man-made because they want the world to heat up, because they are cold and dead and want to burn or drown everyone else, because death is jealous of life.

_________________beware as William Blake
warned of spiritual maniacs, 'prayer' warriors for any mad deity-no matter its name and shape  ~ the cluster of lunatics ridin high the tide of insanity

                      "all deities reside in the human breast'
__________________________

J Yeo's website over  here______