#hes a hungery boy!!!! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

marin0i · 2 years

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George Weasley X female Reader 🧡✨

- George and Y/n are in 5th year

- little fluff with some spice~

*Summary*

Y/n and george have been dating for a few months now, after being friends for like 3 years or so..

george always loved y/n, he loved how she looked at him, how she would kiss him so deeply, he loved how she makes him feel comforted and reassured whenever he's not feeling him self, she is hot, smart, lovely, and she was the only person who can make him lose his shit and he loved it..

Today he needed her comfort in more than one way~

This week, after a terrible failure in pranking Professor snape, george and fred got into a circle of troubles and a lot of annoying punishments, and apparently luck wasn't on their side today after getting caught reading through the forbidden books looking for a new inspiration for their next prank, y/n and everyone enjoyed teasing the twins in this unusual day for them...

"hello boys~ i guess being yelled at is not the best way to end the day" y/n said with a small giggle..

"yeah yeah, laugh all you want darling, I'm the one who is being yelled at after all" george said throwing himself next to her on the couch.

"THIS IS THE WORST DAY EVER!!" everybody turned as fred yelled through the common room following his twin angrily.

"really?! the forbidden books?? You guys like to get in trouble" lee jordan said mocking them and everyone laughed.

The twins kept rumbling and complaining about their bad luck and everybody continued talking about their day, y/n kept playing gently with george's hand to give him some comfort, eventually he lied down on her lap, relaxing while she played with his hair.

after some small chats, y/n noticed her big baby being weirdly quiet..

"georgie? Are you ok? " Y/n Whispered. george sighed dramatically as an answer.. She looked at his twin with a worried look. "don't worry hun, we skipped dinner and have been punished with alot of work, and we are waiting for our mother to be notified" fred explained with annoyance.

That didn't make her feel reassured but she sat quiet and played with george's hair..

few minutes later, she felt a small muffled sigh.. She whispered softly "george.. What's going on?" he didn't answer.. Y/n tilted her head softly to look at him.

"Let's go to my dorm, the girls will go out tonight and my bed is more comfortable than yours... How do you feel about that?". George -without an answer- stood up facing a way from everyone and started walking. Everybody looked as y/n waved to them goodbye and followed her boyfriend.

When they got a little further away from the rest, y/n stopped him and kissed his hand to get his attention. "george.. Can you tell me what's on your mind?"..

"nothing, i'm just tired" he said while looking away

"you know that i can read your mind?"

He smirked and looked at her "oh? So what am i thinking right now?"

y/n pretended to think " you're hungery~"

" ...wrong"

"nah i'm right, you're just mean.. Ok you think i'm hot" y/n said with a wink.

"wait that's cheating!! i always think you're hot!"

"not my problem~"

"... It was a long day and i couldn't handle the stress plus I'm hungry"

"that's all?" she looked at him, worry written all over her face.

"No, y/n please don’t worry about me! i-it's just that i'm anxious about what our mother will say, fred doesn't care that much but i hate making her angry... and dad, i'm afraid he will be disappointed in us." he averted his eyes.

Y/n hugged him quietly and he relaxed in her arms.. "It’s okay to feel like that, and even if your parents get mad at you, it won't last for long. Everything will be okay georgie, i promise." she looked at him, smile on her face and he felt a little bit lighter.

"i have an idea babe, would you care to listen?". George half-smirking looked at her curiously. "i think there might be leftovers in the kitchen, Shall we go check and charm some elves?"

The boy's face lit up with a smile, the idea of a small adventure, him and her? alone? george was excited~

They snuck into the kitchens and convinced the workers there to let them stay for a while, the two sat down talking and eating. It was like a cute lil date and it changed george's mood a little, but it was enough for her~

Now they're at y/n's dorm, george was nervously standing there while y/n took her books and notes away. It was his first time being alone with y/n in her room without the girls interrupting. She saw him just standing so she pushed the boy lightly to her bed and sat next to him..

He was filled with alot of emotions, he was tired, happy, nervous, and greatful for her,he love her right now even more but doesn't know how to expresses that. It was obvious that he isn't going to be relaxed at all. So she took the matter in her hands..

"look at me love, i know today wasn't the best, so please tell me what can i do to make my boy feel better? " she said while holding his face and looking at him with a gentle smile.

He avoided her gaze shyly and started mumbling about somethings y/n didn't hear so she got on top of him and kissed his lips and said "speak louder honey"..

it feels good kissing george and it never fail to calm him, but there was something else. Y/n could feel george deepening the kiss, chest rising and falling, she could feel the heat..

It was an amazing kiss and she wished for it to last forever but she needed to make sure that he was fine.. she slightly moved away from his mouth, he followed her but she cupped his face "babe, what do you want me to do? I need your confirmation"

"please kiss me love!" george said breathlessly, his eyes on her lips..

She lowered her hands lightly to his jaw, brushing his lips and kissing his ear, whispering, then coming back to kiss him, her movements driving him crazy.

she move to his neck, stops to kiss and lick some sensitive spots, come back up to kiss him while touching his chest and teasing his nipples a little over the fabric. She can feel him shiver and groan in her mouth and she likes it~

George broke the kiss and moaned with a quick "fvck" . Y/n felt her stomach filled with butterflies, happy with her work, she started kissing his neck and muttering about how pretty he looks and how he makes her feel good. George couldn't handle anymore teasing so he stopped her and brought her back up to kiss her more..

When they part again, both were panting heavily. Y/n tried to take off his shirt but he did it himself. And she stopped, looking at her pretty boy like he was a piece of art. Y/n smiled to herself and kissed the corner of his mouth.

y/n felt something against her lower back, she smirked at him and quickly casted a silence spell on the door, then moved in his lap a little. he hugged her to his chest to stop her, and looked into her eyes with a special look..

"are you sure? i don't think i can hold myself back anymore darling" he said out of breath and panting. Y/n smiled and got closer to his lips, whispered gently "yes georgie.. i'm sure" she kissed him softly and slowly.. "i want you to show me how hot and bothered you are, how hard you can make me scream your name" .. she could feel him tremble for a moment, she smirked licking her lips and eyed him.

George watched y/n unbutton her shirt too, he got on top of her and gave her a small kiss before lowering down to her chest, exploring her body and teasing every inch of it.

He stopped at her stomach and looked at her..

"can i pleasure you now?" george said smiling with hungery eyes.

"please..."

She could feel his hands wandering under her skirt, her knee, her upper thigh, she could feel his hands everywhere but the one place she needed..

Feeling the heat inside her and the urging desire to be touched, she lost it "Bloody hell george stop that already!!" she groaned.

"stop what?" said george with a a grin~

"t-teasing me!"...

"hun, i need you to tell me exactly where you want me so i could fuck you up in the best way possible~"" said george with a deep voice.

Y/n now frustrated and the heat taking over her, she removed her skirt and her underwear, with a shy nervous look she opend her legs wider for him to see how wet she is.. "touch me here"

George's pov :

She was hot.. I loved her for how she is, for how she notice my ups and downs, i loved how she knows how to make me smile, and now? She is the most beautiful and sexy thing i've ever seen.. all i want now is to kiss every piece of skin my fingers touch..

i can feel my insides burn with desires, i can't control myself when i reach for her thighs and start biting and sucking oh her sensitive spots, i can hear her moans and it's driving me to the edge, it surprised me when she reached out to get her fingers in my hair. i know what she want but i won't give her that yet.. i know as soon as i enter her insides i will come so fucking quick.. i want to tease her more until she cries my name, it really crazy how with a few touches, she can make me this hot and bothered..

i kiss down her thigh and lick my way down to her pussy. I reach my tongue into her so deep that a gasp escapes from her lips, i want to do it more, her moans are hot.. i want to hear her scream, but i stop and look at her, a smirk forms on my face when i see how she is breathing hard, how red her sheeks are, and the lust and need in her eyes..fuck, she is soo pretty! i want to touch her, i want her real bad, i thought i can play this game but i can't, my dick is throbbing and i want to be inside her so fucking bad!!.

Y/n's pov :

He is mean, here i'm begging for his dick or his tongue, anything that can help to free the knot in my stomach, but he is just looking at me, that smug smile on his face!

I can't handle it, i swaped up with him and i'm on top, the surprise on his face was so obvious it makes me laugh.

"not in control anymore, are we?" i said and moved my hips back and forth, teasing him and satisfying my needs..

I could feel him stiffen and groan quietly.

I don't like that.. I like him loud, so i move faster and harder, now he is trying to touch me, i reach for my wand and hold his hands back on the bed with a spell, then move down to remove his pants. It took me off guard how hard he was! i smirked and looked at him as I took off his underwear.

He has this worried look on his face and i'm excited, i give his dick a long sloppy wet lick then suck a little on the top, my hand massaging his balls. He shivers and shift in the bed but can't do anything.

i'm enjoying the power~

When he start to moan louder and move more i leave him and sit on top of him again, i can hear the disappointment in his voice but i won't give him what he wants.

"how are you feeling love?~"

"Y/n please!"

"nop, you've been naughty george ~" i start moving again slowly against his cock but not in the way he want, just to tease him~

"Please! I won't do that again i swear!!"

I like that "hmm, but i want to punsh you" i say with a fake sad voice..

"Just touch me already! I beg you"

i get down until i'm next to his ear " believe me honey, i want you inside me so bad, but i want to tease you till you cry for your release, i love hearing you moan babe" i kiss his lips deeply and moan into his mouth.

When we part i could see how tense he is, i would love to sit on his dick and fuck him till he pass out but i need more.

I reach for his dick and start popping my head up and down. He was moving his hips with me, working for his release but i stop.. He was confused so i say "don’t moved" with a hard stare.

"that's impossible!!"

"you better do it if you want to come today~"

"you are mea-Ah!!" I licked his dick up and down before putting him inside again but this time so deep that i gag.

Poor georgie was moaning so loud and calling my name, i could tell he was using every cell in his body to stop himself from moving and it's killing him.

Now i was in need of him more than i was before so i stopped and quickly hopped up on him.. I didn't give the poor thing time to process what happened when i put him in me and sat down slowly, moaning at the sudden feeling.

He rolled his eyes and yelled a stray of words like "fuck" and "Bloody hell", That made butterflies form in my stomach again, i love this!

George's pov :

THIS IS A LOT!! She starts to move again and i feel like i'm in heaven.. i want to come so bad, i want to dig my fingers in her waist but i can't, i want to fuck her and ruin her insides, but she told me not to move!!

"can i move? please!" she didn't respond..

"y/n!! I can't handle it anymore, I WANT TO FUCK YOU!"

"shit!!"

I see her take her wand, freeing me then throw it on the table again, i can't hold myself any longer. i hold her and change our position to a more comfortable one, then start fucking her.

I can't think stright! Everytime I go so deep inside hear her moan even louder.. Her mouth looks so delicious, i kiss her and go so fast that i can hear our skin slapping together. Everything about her is driving me even crazy!!

She is so loud, i can feel her release coming closer so i work to our ends with more sloppy kisses and hits.

We came at the same time, everything went white and all the sounds went silence, it was a heavenly feeling. i lost all of my strength and threw myself on top of her, panting heavily as she did the same.

I kiss her small kisses and pull out, we laid there together, catching our breath and holding eachother.

she smiled "that was amazing george, thank you" i smiled back, i felt happy.

"You too babe, you did great~"

She snuggled closer and kissed my cheek.

"can you play with my hair?"

She smiled and hugged me while playing with my hair.

..END..

#george weasley #george weasley fluff #george weasley fic #george weasley smut

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reitziluz · 1 year

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Back at'cha!! 9 and 14 for the artist ask meme <3

thanks!! a simple one and a complex one.

9. What are your file name conventions

oh damn. there's the thematic or outright titles of the works, like splitattheroot or howskeletonsareborn. more often, especially for one off things, it's more along the lines of sexywizardbullshit or hungery. for challenges or series, i tend to do pretty utilitarian file names, like witchfashion_pencilskirt.

when i start to really get into an idea, the amount of files for it tend to explode. when that happens, the "core" name tends to get more matter of fact. the current file for shit-all is dsdsa_canoncompliancecut, but there's also dsdsa_oldarchived and dsdsa_rewrit_note (which is the spreadsheet file for the rewrite).

14. Any favorite motifs

ahhh this is hard! i mean, skeletons, flowers and food feel like obvious things to mention? but hmm...

there's of course monstrous hunger. especially when it's made mundane. like in the venom movie with the tater tots and trash can chicken, or when i used to read mcu fics just for the "everyone lives in the avengers tower and boy do supersoldiers eat a lot" type of content. i have one oc, whose one iteration in a superhero setting had the power to literally become what he ate, but the drawback was a ridiculous metabolism that also meant he had to eat constantly. something about bodily needs that are not respected because they're seen as funny or frivolous or something inconvenient and unsightly that's ought to be controlled and surely the person is exaggerating and should just act normal because why would anyone normal experience a basic thing like that that strongly or in such a weird way?

monsters, specifically skeletons, and even more specifically gashadokuro, are also a big fave. the process of becoming a monster, or being made into one. but i don't find the "pure evil" kind of monsters compelling at all*. like, sure, gashadokuro bite off the heads of lone travelers and drink their blood, and that's a p straighforward evil thing to do. but if you reduce them to that, it's like, you might as well be writing about lightning strikes or earth quakes? the compelling thing about monsters to me is how complex they are. not in a shallow sympathetic portrayal of "oh there's a tragic backstory so all the wrongs are excused", but in the inherent horror and tragedy of "oh, i see how i could have become that" and "i see how that could have been prevented but wasn't." gashadokuro are formed from the spirits of those who fell in battle, who were disrespected in death, or who died of starvation, and they crumble to nothing when their rage is spent. that's devastating on multiple levels, and i think the tragedy adds to the horror as much as the horror adds to the tragedy.

(there's also something to be said about how people who see monsters as inhuman pure evil might also fail to recognize or outright reject the possibility that they could be acting monstrously against others, and also how extending no sympathy to any monsters can also turn into hatred for the parts in you (unfairly) deemed monstrous, but i've already gotten off topic and rambled enough.)

*to be fair, this is mostly just when the monster is more of a character of its own. like if the monster is way in the symbolic end of the spectrum, or like, more of just a scenario like zombies most of the time are, that's alright. but i don't get people who, for example, say that sephiroth is absolute pure evil and to argue anything else diminishes him as a villain, when i think knowing that he was 14 at the oldest when he was first thrown into an all out war and that without the evils of shinra the evils he committed would also not have come to pass just... like fuck man, how is that not more terrifying to you than a flavorless construct of "pure evil" that you can compartmentalize and distance from yourself and your reality as a whole?

#igotasked #this got away from me

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0--bad-animations--0 · 5 years

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Walks into kitchen

Gasps like a horror victim

Bounces like a child

FRIEMD

He's eating grapes

#crow #corvid #wildlife #childish #grapes #hungery boy #pied crow #hes lorge #i love him #hes shy

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artnerd1123 · 5 years

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dark question cause angst how many birds has roo killed?

... a lot more than he’d care to admit

#sometimes he jus get hungery #and when u live on the road; or near a forest; and are also a cat?#welp #its snacktime bois #it hardly ever happens tho; i’ll tell u that #its like he goes feral for a hot sec until he’s scarfed the birb down #and then he’s mildly horrified with himself n aiden has to clean em up before he notices any Suspicious Red Stains ™ on his mouth/paws #its fun ._.#arty asks #roo pingere #afw

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sailorwaylon-blog · 5 years

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A thing I did a bit back of my OC Manson! Love my dumbass vampire son ;;

#Oc #original character #vampire #goth #bat #digital art #Manson #he's a hungery boi who just wants some love

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a-familiar-set-of-apartments · 5 years

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How're you doing, Beri?

“I’m doing ok,” Berimont sighed. His smile was a little tired. “Today’s just been busy. I’ve got a lot of trinkets to sort, and I’m just hoping I have time to go mushroom hunting before bed...”

#messages from nowhere ~ ask #a reticent merchant ~ berimont #he hungery;;;#but at least he got plenty of cool lil trinkets!#he’ll have a fun time sortin n usin em ^^#... as long as he has snacks #hfksbja #someone help this boi—

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meadow-roses · 5 years

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This is why he has those teeth guys.

#jaws theme plays #he a hungery huntery boi #pencil #sketch #doodle #fantasy #mermaid #merman #tahti #he only wish #to catch a fish #so juicy sweeeeeet #merfriend

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allbravado-archive · 6 years

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GRIFF UPDATE the boy is confirmed Eatin

i already knew this but i’m excited bc sometimes lads will go two weeks w/o eating if they’ve been shipped

#「 ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴍᴀʟʟᴅᴏɢ ᴊᴏɴᴇꜱ. | ooc 」#my boy didn't even go a week he's Hungery #food //

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dew-itowo · 4 years

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Baby Anakin part 1

@anakinandthecaptainrex

(So sorry this took so long.)

Fives and Echo were usually the source of Rex's headaches. Pranking people, getting others in trouble. You get it. They're maniacs.

So yes Rex was having a God damn stroke over this. His General is litterally a kriffing baby for Jango's sake!

On minute he's sassing the queen of hoodoo the next he's a little baby naked as day in his pile of robes. Honestly he deserved it. Karma was after all a bitch. But it didnt hinder any kind of hilarity to the Arcs.

Reaching down to the little General Echo giggled. "Aw, now look what you got into Jetti. Rex told you it was bad idea." Anakin's eyes watered and his lip quivered. As if Echo were his mother he held the back of his fuzzy head and pulling him close to his chest. "Oh hush now. I'm here. You're okay Jett'ika." Fives looked almost as shocked as Kix. Wide eyes like he hadn't expected a joke to go so far.

"Dont you comfort him" Talzan hisses, reaching to grab Echo's arm. Receiving a deep set, viscous glare from the Arc trooper.

"Watch your tone Witch, or I'll give you something to complain about when I knock your pretty teeth in."

If it weren't for Fives and Kix's shock with how protective Echo just got, Rex would've been in a corner rocking himself to insanity. "Turn him back now." Someone said over the low growl coming off of Echo. Everyone's eyes, including the tiny Generals, finding Rex. He hadn't even recognized his own voice. "Turn him back, or so help me Jango you'll never know pain like I'd give you Talzan." It was a thought at best.

"Bad little boys who threaten get punished Captain." Even Dogma cringed somewhere in the crowd of troopers aiming their rifles for the hag.

The tiny Generals hand flat against Echo's chest plate as he watched Rex. With tired, big, impossibly blue eyes. Rex found it hard not to love the adorable tiny Jedi. Though Kenobi would be on his death bed the moment he saw him like this.

"Turn. Him. Back." Fives growled having enough of this. Though so hypocritical.

"I can't." She yelled, setting Anakin to cling onto Echo and the peice of his robe hed been wrapped up in. Troopers instinctively moving closer to Echo and Anakin. Protecting the Ad.

Fives looked quite unamused. "Why?"

Talzan glare at the floor. "Because the moment He's like this the spell cannot be reversed." Rage boiled deep in Rex's core. Setting his nerves on fire.

"How long does the spell last." Echo whispered angrily. Trying to comfort Anakin.

"A week to a month depending on how it affects the person." A sigh on relief left Kix. As the acting mother of the 501st, or at least how he acts, Kix couldn't deal with the reality of raising up a once full grown himbo. It was just too much. And even Echo wasn't fit to take care of a baby let alone a force sensitive baby. Kenobi on the other hand knee kids, but has never cated for a baby. Maybe hed be more fit?

It was all so confusing when Rex found himself in his quarters with the tiny General in his lap, asleep like nothing had happened. He looked so peaceful like this. Holding onto Rex's index finger with his tiny hands.

Maybe once or twice he'd held a baby during campaigns. When mothers often came to thank them. Bringing their children along to see the soldiers. One time being quite memorable when a little blond human girl and her mother asked if any of the men were hungery. Of course Rex tried to decline by saying they had rebuilding to do. But the woman and her adorable daughter insisted heavy. So Rex and the others joined them for dinner. All sitting and eating, laughing, talking, telling stories to the young, listening to stories for the old, drinking, singing, dancing, living. Anakin looked so happy to see Rex and the others just let loose and have fun. To forget about the war, the death and the greif. To just live a little. Maybe that was why Anakin always pushed them to have fun on leave. Pulling Tex out of his office and dragging him to 79s where hed inevitably forget why he was there in the first place and go back laughing like it was normal. Drunk as a wine aunt at a family reunion. Holding onto Anakin and giggling the whole way there while the Jedi just laughed and talked with him more. Staying with him till he fell asleep, then moved Rex to his bed.

Anakin made a happy noise if Rex's arm as he slept. The Clone enjoying the peace the rarely came when around this jedi. Thanking Jango above for the one moment of breath before Kenobi lost his shit tomorrow over this.

"Gods Rex wont you let go of the General?" Jesse teased faux annoyed with his Captain. Pressing sass into his tone.

Rex chuckled looking down at Anakin on his hip. "No I dont think I will. And plus he enjoys being held." He sighs smiling softly. Kixs voice wasn't one to be ignored usually but his bantha shit was still bantha shit.

"I bet he thinks hes the Jett'ika's buir now." He laughs earning a glare from both Anakin and Rex.

"Can it Kix, you're one to talk." Someone oo'd. Perhaps Fives who watched with Echo from where they shoveled Food into their faces. The table going quiet as the Medic sputtered and finnaly gave up.

"Oh shut your shebs." He groaned letting Rex have the last word. Laughing at Kix's frustration while waiting for the boys to finish eating. Anakin watching the same. Eyeing Echos untouched ration bar carefully.

"I think Tinykin is hungery." Fives chuckled, nearly choking ofn his food. Anakin made a sound of anger at the nickname.

"Fives, dont call him that. You know he cant defend himself from your teasing." Echo scoffed.

"Suddenly you're a mother now."

The men laughed.

"Ha ha funny Echo. Like you didnt baby him on Dayhomir like a god damned wet nurse." Echo paused. Holding back a smile at the funny insult.

"What's a wet nurse?" Fives asked looking genuinely confused. Rex could see the internal conflict in Kix's eyes on whether he sound explain it to a dumbass or let Fives be an confussed dumbass. Either way both option were tempting.

"Kix can tell you later. Tight now I need you all to act like nothing wrong when Kenobi gets here and leave the sheb beating to me." They nodded. There was not a fate worse than death. If... You have met Kenobi. His lectures where fatal. Boring you so bad you die inside and then out like a disease. Eating your guilt up like apple sauce and topping it of with a punishment that had you bored out of your own sanity. It's why the 212th was always so well behaved. Because Kenobi was not merciful when it came to punishments.

"Good luck Rex." Jesse breathed almost looking concerned for his captain.

"Luck doesnt exsist Jesse boy." He whispered walking away toward the landing docks where Kenobi would be waiting now. Having stalled already for too long.

Gods have mercy...

#star wars #star wars the clone wars #captain rex #arc trooper fives #anakin skywalker #arc trooper echo #sw #fives and echo #obi-wan kenobi #part 1 #oh my god #hello there #baby anakin

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dooptown · 4 years

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Chapter 171

is there going to be a guy in Legosi’s mouth that talks to people now?

YOU’RE NOT THE ONE

anyway, we got some more weird random storybuilding with the urban legend, and then, not so surprisingly, learn that Kyuu sold Legosi out just cuz she needed money because she lives in a literal falling apart building

WHERE’S SAN????

now, I don’t know if Kyuu told Legosi to fast so he’d be easier to defeat or if it was legit advice, but all i know is I HATE IT! HE NEEDS FOOD! I FEEL SO BAD HE’S SUFFERING!!! God Legosi is always so self destructive and sure maybe this will help or something in the canon? But like, just reading it? Like it legit hurt. I just need him to be okay and for all this to be over

We get some more Canine stuff with words like Stay and Good Boy, which is all well and good but my gay ass just can’t help but think

IT SHOULD HAVE BEEN LOUIS!

or even Haru!

I don’t dislike Kyuu, per se. I just hate how she seems like her design was modified to appeal to the Male Gaze (something Paru is very bad at doing unless those guys happen to be gay) so the entire principle of her character design rubs me the wrong way. Plus, seeing Legosi have such a fast and close relationship with a character he just met vs. ones he’s known the entire manga...i just hope he DOES get those moments later with Louis and Haru and others...

Kyuu, naturally, can’t resist Legosi’s charm and good-natured personality and regrets what she did. And tick now 4 herbivores that have asked Legosi to eat them...I wonder if he even thinks about it anymore

We’re getting close to the battle. I hope we see Louis and Gosha there, although I guess next chapter will be seeing why Legosi is scratching in his room (i’m guessing it’s because he’s hungery, the poor guy!)

no, but seriously, seeing that image in Kyuu’s mind of Legosi literally starving to death hurt me a lot

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blindrapture · 4 years

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Under the Read More, I will put a single-sentence question, followed by its answer. This is from Finnegans Wake. For the record, the question is asking “who was the person who matched this description.”

What secondtonone myther rector and maximost bridgesmaker was the first to rise taller through his beanstale than the bluegum buaboababbaun or the giganteous Wellingtonia Sequoia; went nudiboots with trouters into a liffeyette when she was barely in her tricklies; was well known to claud a conciliation cap onto the esker of his hooth; sports a chainganger’s albert solemenly over his hullender’s epulence; thought he weighed a new ton when there felled his first lapapple; gave the heinousness of choice to everyknight betwixt yesterdicks and twomaries; had sevenal successivecoloured serebanmaids on the same big white drawringroam horthrug; is a Willbeforce to this hour at house as he was in heather; pumped the catholick wartrey and shocked the prodestung boyne; killed his own hungery self in anger as a young man; found fodder for five when allmarken rose goflooded; with Hirish tutores Cornish made easy; voucher of rotables, toll of the road; bred manyheaded stepsons for one leapyourown taughter; is too funny for a fish and has too much outside for an insect; like a heptagon crystal emprisoms trues and fauss for us; is infinite swell in unfitting induments; once was he shovelled and once was he arsoned and once was he inundered and she hung him out billbailey; has a quadrant in his tile to tell Toler cad a’clog it is; offers chances to Long on but stands up to Legge before; found coal at the end of his harrow and mossroses behind the seams; made a fort out of his postern and wrote F.E.R.T. on his buckler; is escapemaster-in-chief from all sorts of houdingplaces; if he outharrods against barkers, to the shoolbred he acts whiteley; was evacuated at the mere appearance of three germhuns and twice besieged by a sweep; from zoomorphology to omnianimalism he is brooched by the spin of a coin; towers, an eddistoon amid the lampless, casting swannbeams on the deep; threatens thunder upon malefactors and sends whispers up fraufrau’s froufrous; when Dook Hookbackcrook upsits his ass booseworthies jeer and junket but they boos him oos and baas his aas when he lukes like Hunkett Plunkett; by sosannsos and search a party on a lady of this city; business, reading newspaper, smoking cigar, arranging tumblers on table, eating meals, pleasure, etcetera, etcetera, pleasure, eating meals, arranging tum-blers on table, smoking cigar, reading newspaper, business; minerals, wash and brush up, local views, juju toffee, comic and birthdays cards; those were the days and he was their hero; pink sunset shower, red clay cloud, sorrow of Sahara, oxhide on Iren; arraigned and attainted, listed and lited, pleaded and proved; catches his check at banck of Indgangd and endurses his doom at chapel exit; brain of the franks, hand of the christian, tongue of the north; commands to dinner and calls the bluff; has a block at Morgen’s and a hatache all the afternunch; plays gehamerat when he’s ernst but misses mausey when he’s lustyg; walked as far as the Head where he sat in state as the Rump; shows Early English tracemarks and a marigold window with manigilt lights, a myrioscope, two remarkable piscines and three wellworthseeing ambries; arches all portcullised and his nave dates from dots; is a horologe unstoppable and the Benn of all bells; fuit, isst and herit and though he’s mildewstaned he’s mouldystoned; is a quercuss in the forest but plane member for Megalopolis; mountunmighty, faunonfleetfoot; plank in our platform, blank in our scouturn; hidal, in carucates he is enumerated, hold as an earl, he counts; shipshaped phrase of buglooking words with a form like the easing moments of a graminivorous; to our dooms brought he law, our manoirs he made his vill of; was an overgrind to the underground and acqueduced for fierythroats; sends boys in socks acoughawhooping when he lets farth his carbonoxside and silk stockings show her shapings when he looses hose on hers; stocks dry puder for the Ill people and pinkun’s pellets for all the Pale; gave his mundyfoot to Miserius, her pinch to Anna Livia, that superfine pigtail to Cerisia Cerosia and quid rides to Titius, Caius and Sempronius; made the man who had no notion of shopkeepers feel he’d rather play the duke than play the gentleman; shot two queans and shook three caskles when he won his game of dwarfs; fumes inwards like a strombolist till he smokes at both ends; manmote, befier of him, womankind, pietad!; shows one white drift of snow among the gorsegrowth of his crown and a chaperon of repentance on that which shed gore; pause and quies, triple bill; went by metro for the polis and then hoved by; to the finders, hail! woa, you that seek!; whom fillth had plenished, dearth devoured; hock is leading, cocoa comes next, emery tries for the flag; can dance the O’Bruin’s polerpasse at Noolahn to his own orchistruss accompaniment; took place before the internatural convention of catholic midwives and found stead before the congress for the study of endonational calamities; makes a delictuous entrée and finishes off the course between sweets and savouries; flouts for forecasts, flairs for finds and the fun of the fray on the fairground; cleared out three hundred sixty five idles to set up one all khalassal for henwives hoping to have males; the flawhoolagh, the grasping one, the kindler of paschal fire; forbids us our trespassers as we forgate him; the phoenix be his pyre, the cineres his sire!; piles big pelium on little ossas like the pilluls of hirculeads; has an eatupus complex and a drinkthedregs kink; wurstmeats for chumps and cowcarlows for scullions; when he plies for our favour is very trolly ours; two psychic espousals and three desertions; may be matter of fact now but was futter of magd then; Cattermole Hill, exmountain of flesh was reared up by stress and sank under strain; tank it up, dank it up, tells the tailor to his tout; entoutcas for a man, but bit a thimble for a maid; blimp, blump; a dud letter, a sing a song a sylble; a byword, a sentence with surcease; while stands his canyouseehim frails shall fall; was hatched at Cellbridge but ejoculated abrood; as it gan in the biguinnengs so wound up in a battle of Boss; Roderick, Roderick, Roderick, O, you’ve gone the way of the Danes; variously catalogued, regularly regrouped; a bushboys holoday, a quacker’s mating, a wenches’ sandbath; the same homoheatherous checkinlossegg as when sollyeye airly blew ye; real detonation but false report; spa mad but inn sane; half emillian via bogus census but a no street hausmann when allphannd; is the handiest of all andies and a most alleghant spot to dump your hump; hands his secession to the new patricius but plumps plebmatically for the bloody old centuries; eats with doors open and ruts with gates closed; some dub him Rotshield and more limn him Rockyfellow; shows he’s fly to both demisfairs but thries to cover up his tracers; seven dovecotes cooclaim to have been pigeonheim to this homer, Smerrnion, Rhoebok, Kolonsreagh, Seapoint, Quayhowth, Ashtown, Ratheny; independent of the lordship of chamberlain, acknowledging the rule of Rome; we saw thy farm at Useful Prine, Domhnall, Domhnall; reeks like Illbelpaese and looks like Iceland’s ear; lodged at quot places, lived through tot reigns; takes a szumbath for his weekend and a wassarnap for his refreskment; after a good bout at stoolball enjoys Giroflee Giroflaa; what Nevermore missed and Colombo found; believes in everyman his own goaldkeeper and in Africa for the fullblacks; the arc of his drive was forty full and his stumps were pulled at eighty; boasts him to the thick-in-thews the oldest creater in Aryania and looks down on the Suiss family Collesons whom he calls les nouvelles roches; though his heart, soul and spirit turn to pharaoph times, his love, faith and hope stick to futuerism; light leglifters cense him souriantes from afore while boor browbenders curse him grommelants to his hindmost; between youlasses and yeladst glimse of Even; the Lug his peak has, the Luk his pile; drinks tharr and wodhar for his asama and eats the unparishable sow to styve off reglar rack; the beggars cloak them reclined about his paddystool, the whores winken him as they walk their side; on Christienmas at Advent Lodge, New Yealand, after a lenty illness the roeverand Mr Easterling of pentecostitis, no followers by bequest, fanfare all private; Gone Where Glory Waits Him (Ball, bulletist) but Not Here Yet (Maxwell, clark); comminxed under articles but phoenished a borgiess; from the vat on the bier through the burre in the dark to the buttle of the bawn; is A1 an the highest but Roh re his root; filled fanned of hackleberries whenas all was tuck and toss up for him as a yangster to fall fou of hockinbechers wherein he had gauged the use of raisin; ads aliments, das doles, raps rustics, tams turmoil; sas seed enough for a semination but sues skivvies on the sly; learned to speak from hand to mouth till he could talk earish with his eyes shut; hacked his way through hickheckhocks but hanged hishelp from there hereafters; rialtos, annesleyg, binn and balls to say nothing atolk of New Comyn; the gleam of the glow of the shine of the sun through the dearth of the dirth on the blush of the brick of the viled ville of Barnehulme has dust turned to brown; these dyed to tartan him, rueroot, dulse, bracken, teasel, fuller’s ash, sundew and cress; long gunn but not for cotton; stood his sharp assault of famine but grew girther, girther and girther; he has twenty four or so cousins germinating in the United States of America and a namesake with an initial difference in the once kingdom of Poland; his first’s a young rose and his second’s French-Egyptian and his whole means a slump at Christie’s; forth of his pierced part came the woman of his dreams, blood thicker then water last trade overseas; buyshop of Glintylook, eorl of Hoed; you and I are in him surrented by brwn bldns; Elin’s flee polt pelhaps but Hwang Chang evelytime; he one was your of highbigpipey boys but fancy him as smoking fags his at time of life; Mount of Mish, Mell of Moy; had two cardinal ventures and three capitol sinks; has a peep in his pocketbook and a packetboat in his keep; B.V.H., B.L.G., P.P.M., T.D.S., V.B.D., T.C.H., L.O.N.; is Breakfates, Lunger, Diener and Souper; as the streets were paved with cold he felt his topperairy; taught himself skating and learned how to fall; distinctly dirty but rather a dear; hoveth chieftains evrywehr, with morder; Ostman Effendi, Serge Paddishaw; baases two mmany, outpriams al’ his parisites; first of the fenians, roi des fainéants; his Tiara of scones was held unfillable till one Liam Fail felled him in Westmunster; was struck out of his sittem when he rowed saulely to demask us and to our appauling predicament brought as plagues from Buddapest; put a matchhead on an aspenstalk and set the living a fire; speared the rod and spoiled the lightning; married with cakes and repunked with pleasure; till he was buried howhappy was he and he made the welkins ring with Up Micawber!; god at the top of the staircase, carrion on the mat of straw; the false hood of a spindler web chokes the cavemouth of his unsightliness but the nestlings that liven his leafscreen sing him a lover of arbuties; we strike hands over his bloodied warsheet but we are pledged entirely to his green mantle; our friend vikelegal, our swaran foi; under the four stones by his streams who vanished the wassailbowl at the joy of shells; Mora and Lora had a hill of a high time looking down on his confusion till firm look in readiness, forward spear and the windfoot of curach strewed the lakemist of Lego over the last of his fields; we darkened for you, faulterer, in the year of mourning but we’ll fidhil to the dimtwinklers when the streamy morvenlight calls up the sunbeam; his striped pantaloons, his rather strange walk; hereditatis columna erecta, hagion chiton eraphon; nods a nap for the nonce but crows cheerio when they get ecunemical; is a simultaneous equator of elimbinated integras when three upon one is by inspection improper; has the most conical hodpiece of confusianist heronim and that chuchuffuous chinchin of his is like a footsey kungoloo around Taishantyland; he’s as globeful as a gasometer of lithium and luridity and he was thrice ten anular years before he wallowed round Raggiant Circos; the cabalstone at the coping of his cavin is a canine constant but only an amirican could apparoxemete the apeupresiosity of his atlast’s alongement; sticklered rights and lefts at Baddersdown in his hunt for the boar trwth but made his end with the modareds that came at him in Camlenstrete; a hunnibal in exhaustive conflict, an otho to return; burning body to aiger air on melting mountain in wooing wave; we go into him sleepy children, we come out of him strucklers for life; he divested to save from the Mrs Drownings their rival queens while Grimshaw, Bragshaw and Renshaw made off with his storen clothes; taxed and rated, licensed and ranted; his threefaced stonehead was found on a whitehorse hill and the print of his costellous feet is seen in the goat’s grasscircle; pull the blind, toll the deaf and call dumb, lame and halty; Miraculone, Monstrucceleen; led the upplaws at the Creation and hissed a snake charmer off her stays; hounded become haunter, hunter become fox; harrier, marrier, terrier, tav; Olaph the Oxman, Thorker the Tourable; you feel he is Vespasian yet you think of him as Aurelius; whugamore, tradertory, socianist, commoniser; made a summer assault on our shores and begiddy got his sands full; first he shot down Raglan Road and then he tore up Marlborough Place; Cromlechheight and Crommalhill were his farfamed feetrests when our lurch as lout let free into the Lubar heloved; mareschalled his wardmotes and delimited the main; netted before nibbling, can scarce turn a scale but, grossed after meals, weighs a town in himself; Banba prayed for his conversion, Beurla missed that grand old voice; a Colossus among cabbages, the Melarancitrone of fruits; larger than life, doughtier than death; Gran Turco, orege forment; lachsembulger, leperlean; the sparkle of his genial fancy, the depth of his calm sagacity, the clearness of his spotless honour, the flow of his boundless benevolence; our family furbear, our tribal tarnpike; quary was he invincibled and cur was he burked; partitioned Irskaholm, united Irishmen; he took a svig at his own methyr but she tested a bit gorky and as for the salmon he was coming up in him all life long; comm, eilerdich hecklebury and sawyer thee, warden; silent as the bee in honey, stark as the breath on hauwck, Costello, Kinsella, Mahony, Moran, though you rope Amrique your home ruler is Dan; figure right, he is hoisted by the scurve of his shaggy neck, figure left, he is rationed in isobaric patties among the crew; one asks was he poisoned, one thinks how much did he leave; ex-gardener (Riesengebirger), fitted up with planturous existencies would make Roseoogreedy (mite’s) little hose; taut sheets and scuppers awash but the oil silk mack Liebsterpet micks his aquascutum; the enjoyment he took in kay women, the employment he gave to gee men; sponsor to a squad of piercers, ally to a host of rawlies; against lightning, explosion, fire, earthquake, flood, whirlwind, burglary, third party, rot, loss of cash, loss of credit, impact of vehicles; can rant as grave as oxtail soup and chat as gay as a porto flippant; is unhesitent in his unionism and yet a pigotted nationalist; Sylviacola is shy of him, Matrosenhosens nose the joke; shows the sinews of peace in his chest-o-wars; fiefeofhome, ninehundred and thirtunine years of copyhold; is aldays open for polemypolity’s sake when he’s not suntimes closed for the love of Janus; sucks life’s eleaxir from the pettipickles of the Jewess and ruoulls in sulks if any popeling runs down the Huguenots; Boomaport, Walleslee, Ubermeerschall Blowcher and Supercharger, Monsieur Ducrow, Mister Mudson, master gardiner; to one he’s just paunch and judex, to another full of beans and brehons; hallucination, cauchman, ectoplasm; passed for baabaa blacksheep till he grew white woo woo woolly; was drummatoysed by Mac Milligan’s daughter and put to music by one shoebard; all fitzpatricks in his emirate remember him, the boys of wetford hail him babu; indanified himself with boro tribute and was schenkt publicly to brigstoll; was given the light in drey orchafts and entumuled in threeplexes; his likeness is in Terrecuite and he giveth rest to the rainbowed; lebriety, frothearnity and quality; his reverse makes a virtue of necessity while his obverse mars a mother by invention; beskilk his gunwale and he’s the second imperial, untie points, unhook tenters and he’s lath and plaster; calls upon Allthing when he fails to appeal to Eachovos; basidens, ardree, kongsemma, rexregulorum; stood into Dee mouth, then backed broadside on Baulacleeva; either eldorado or ultimate thole; a kraal of fou feud fires, a crawl of five pubs; laid out lashings of laveries to hunt down his family ancestors and then pled double trouble or quick quits to hush the buckers up; threw pebblets for luck over one sodden shoulder and dragooned peoplades armed to their teeth; pept as Gaudio Gambrinus, grim as Potter the Grave; ace of arts, deuce of damimonds, trouble of clubs, fear of spates; cumbrum, cumbrum, twiniceynurseys fore a drum but tre to uno tips the scale; reeled the titleroll opposite a brace of girdles in Silver on the Screen but was sequenced from the set as Crookback by the even more titulars, Rick, Dave and Barry; he can get on as early as the twentysecond of Mars but occasionally he doesn’t come offbefore Virgintiquinque Germinal; his Indian name is Hapapoosiesobjibway and his number in arithmosophy is the stars of the plough; took weapon in the province of the pike and let fling his line on Eelwick; moves in vicous cicles yet remews the same; the drain rats bless his offals while the park birds curse his floodlights; Portobello, Equadocta, Therecocta, Percorello; he pours into the softclad shellborn the hard cash earned in Watling Street; his birth proved accidental shows his death its grave mistake; brought us giant ivy from the land of younkers and bewitthered Apostolopolos with the gale of his gall; while satisfied that soft youthful bright matchless girls should bosom into fine silkclad joyous blooming young women is not so pleased that heavy swearsome strongsmelling irregularshaped men should blottout active handsome wellformed frankeyed boys; herald hairyfair, alloaf the wheat; husband your aunt and endow your nepos; hearken but hush it, screen him and see; time is, an archbishopric, time was, a tradesmen’s entrance; beckburn brooked with wath, scale scarred by scow; his rainfall is a couple of kneehighs while his meanst grass temperature marked three in the shade; is the meltingpoint of snow and the bubblingplace of alcohol; has a tussle with the trulls and then does himself justice; hinted at in the eschatological chapters of Humphrey’s Justesse of the Jaypees and hunted for by Theban recensors who sniff there’s something behind the Bug of the Deaf; the king was in his cornerwall melking mark so murry, the queen was steep in armbour feeling fain and furry, the mayds was midst the hawthorns shoeing up their hose, out pimps the back guards (pomp!) and pump gun they goes; to all his foretellers he reared a stone and for all his comethers he planted a tree; forty acres, sixty miles, white stripe, red stripe, washes his fleet in annacrwatter; whou missed a porter so whot shall he do for he wanted to sit for Pimploco but they’ve caught him to stand for Sue?; Dutchlord, Dutchlord, overawes us; Headmound, king and martyr, dunstung in the Yeast, Pitre-le-Pore-in Petrin, Barth-the-Grete-by-the-Exchange; he hestens towards dames troth and wedding hand like the prince of Orange and Nassau while he has trinity left behind him like Bowlbeggar Bill-the-Bustonly; brow of a hazelwood, pool in the dark; changes blowicks into bullocks and a well of Artesia into a bird of Arabia; the handwriting on his facewall, the cryptoconchoidsiphonostomata in his exprussians; his birthspot lies beyond the herospont and his burialplot in the pleasant little field; is the yldist kiosk on the pleninsula and the unguest hostel in Saint Scholarland; walked many hundreds and many score miles of streets and lit thousands in one nightlights in hectares of windows; his great wide cloak lies on fifteen acres and his little white horse decks by dozens our doors; O sorrow the sail and woe the rudder that were set for Mairie Quai!; his suns the huns, his dartars the tartars, are plenty here today; who repulsed from his burst the bombolts of Ostenton and falchioned each flash downsaduck in the deep; apersonal problem, a locative enigma; upright one, vehicule of arcanisation in the field, lying chap, floodsupplier of celiculation through ebblanes; a part of the whole as a port for a whale; Dear Hewitt Castello, Equerry, were daylighted with our outing and are looking backwards to unearly summers, from Rhoda Dundrums; is above the seedfruit level and outside the leguminiferous zone; when older links lock older hearts then he’ll resemble she; can be built with glue and clippings, scrawled or voided on a buttress; the night express sings his story, the song of sparrownotes on his stave of wires; he crawls with lice, he swarms with saggarts; is as quiet as a mursque but can be as noisy as a sonogog; was Dilmun when his date was palmy and Mudlin when his nut was cracked; suck up the sease, lep laud at ease, one lip on his lap and one cushlin his crease; his porter has a mighty grasp and his baxters the boon of broadwhite; as far as wind dries and rain eats and sun turns and water bounds he is exalted and depressed, assembled and asundered; go away, we are deluded, come back, we are disghosted; bored the Ostrov, leapt the Inferus, swam the Mabbul and flure the Moyle; like fat, like fatlike tallow, of greasefulness, yea of dripping greasefulness; did not say to the old, old, did not say to the scorbutic, scorbutic; he has founded a house, Uru, a house he has founded to which he has assigned its fate; bears a raaven geulant on a fjeld duiv; ruz the halo offhis varlet when he appeared to his shecook as Haycock, Emmet, Boaro, Toaro, Osterich, Mangy and Skunk; pressed the beer of aled age out of the nettles of rashness; put a roof on the lodge for Hymn and a coq in his pot pro homo; was dapifer then pancircensor then hortifex magnus; the topes that tippled on him, the types that toppled off him; still starts our hares yet gates our goat; pocketbook packetboat, gapman gunrun; the light of other days, dire dreary darkness; our awful dad, Timour of Tortur; puzzling, startling, shocking, nay, perturbing; went puffing from king’s brugh to new customs, doffing the gibbous off him to every breach of all size; with Pa’s new heft and Papa’s new helve he’s Papapa’s old cutlass Papapapa left us; when youngheaded oldshouldered and middlishneck aged about; caller herring everydaily, turgid tarpon overnight; see Loryon the comaleon that changed endocrine history by loeven his loaf with forty bannucks; she drove him dafe till he driv her blind up; the pigeons doves be perchin all over him one day on Baslesbridge and the ravens duv be pitchin their dark nets after him the next night behind Koenigstein’s Arbour; tronf of the rep, comf of the priv, prosp of the pub; his headwood it’s ideal if his feet are bally clay; he crashed in the hollow of the park, trees down, as he soared in the vaguum of the phoenix, stones up; looks like a moultain boultter and sounds like a rude word; the mountain view, some lumin pale round a lamp of succar in boinyn water; three shots a puddy at up blup saddle; made up to Miss MacCormack Ni Lacarthy who made off with Darly Dermod, swank and swarthy; once diamond cut garnet now dammat cuts groany; you might find him at the Florence but watch our for him in Wynn’s Hotel; theer’s his bow and wheer’s his leaker and heer lays his bequiet hearse, deep; Swed Albiony, likeliest villain of the place; Hennery Canterel—Cockran, eggotisters, limitated; we take our tays and frees our fleas round sadurn’s mounted foot; built the Lund’s kirk and destroyed the church’s land; who guesse his title grabs his deeds; fletch and prities, fash and chaps; artful Juke of Wilysly; Hugglebelly’s Funniral; Kukkuk Kallikak; heard in camera and excruciated; boon when with benches billeted, bann if buckshotbackshattered; heavengendered, chaosfoedted, earthborn; his father presumptively ploughed it deep on overtime and his mother as all evince must have travailled her fair share; a footprinse on the Megacene, hetman unwhorsed by Searingsand; honorary captain of the extemporised fire brigade, reported to be friendly with the police; the door is still open; the old stock collar is coming back; not forgetting the time you laughed at Elder Charterhouse’s duckwhite pants and the way you said the whole township can see his hairy legs; by stealth of a kersse her aulburntress abaft his nape she hung; when his kettle became a hearthsculdus our thorstyites set their lymphyamphyre; his yearletter concocted by masterhands of assays, his hallmark imposed by the standard of wrought plate; a pair of pectorals and a triplescreen to get a wind up; lights his pipe with a rosin tree and hires a towhorse to haul his shoes; cures slavey’s scurvy, breaks barons boils; called to sell polosh and was found later in a bedroom; has his seat of justice, his house of mercy, his com o’copious and his stacks a’rye; prospector, he had a rooksacht, retrospector, he holds the holpenstake; won the freedom of new yoke for the minds of jugoslaves; acts active, peddles in passivism and is a gorgon of selfridgeousness; pours a laughsworth of his illformation over a larmsworth of salt; half heard the single maiden speech La Belle spun to her Grand Mount and wholed a lifetime by his ain fireside, wondering was it hebrew set to himmeltones or the quicksilversong of qwaternions; his troubles may be over but his doubles have still to come; the lobster pot that crabbed our keel, the garden pet that spoiled our squeezed peas; he stands in a lovely park, sea is not far, importunate towns of X, Y and Z are easily over reached; is an excrescence to civilised humanity and but a wart on Europe; wanamade singsigns to soundsense an yit he wanna git all his flesch nuemaid motts truly prural and plusible; has excisively large rings and is uncustomarily perfumed; lusteth ath he listeth the cleah whithpeh of a themise; is a prince of the fingallian in a hiberniad of hoolies; has a hodge to wherry him and a frenchy to curry him and a brabanson for his beeter and a fritz at his switch; was waylaid of a parker and beschotten by a buckeley; kicks lintils when he’s cuppy and casts Jacob’s arroroots, dime after dime, to poor waifstrays on the perish; reads the charms of H. C. Endersen all the weaks of his evenin and the crimes of Ivaun the Taurrible every strongday morn; soaps you soft to your face and slaps himself when he’s badend; owns the bulgiest bungbarrel that ever was tiptapped in the privace of the Mullingar Inn; was bom with a nuasilver tongue in his mouth and went round the coast of Iron with his lift hand to the scene; raised but two fingers and yet smelt it would day; for whom it is easier to found a see in Ebblannah than for I or you to find a dubbeltye in Dampsterdamp; to live with whom is a lifemayor and to know whom a liberal education; was dipped in Hoily Olives and chrysmed in Scent Otooles; hears cricket on the earth but annoys the life out of predikants; still turns the durc’s ear of Darius to the now thoroughly infurioted one of God; made Man with juts that jerk and minted money mong maney; likes a six acup pudding when he’s come whome sweetwhome; has come through all the eras of livsadventure from moonshine and shampaying down to clouts and pottled porter; woollem the farsed, hahnreich the althe, charge the sackend, writchad the thord; if a mandrake shricked to convultures at last surviving his birth the weibduck will wail bitternly over the rotter’s resurrection; loses weight in the moon night but gird girder by the sundawn; with one touch of nature set a veiled world agrin and went within a sheet of tissuepaper of the option of three gaols; who could see at one blick a saumon taken with a lance, hunters pursuing a doe, a swallowship in full sail, a whyterobe lifting a host; faced flappery like old King Cnut and turned his back like Cincinnatus; is a farfar and morefar and a hoar father Nakedbucker in villas old as new; squats aquart and cracks aquaint when it’s flaggin in town and on haven; blows whiskery around his summit but stehts stout upon his footles; stutters fore he falls and goes mad entirely when he’s waked; is Timb to the pearly mom and Tomb to the mourning night; and an he had the best bunbaked bricks in bould Babylon for his pitching plays he’d be lost for the want of his wan wubblin wall?

Answer: Finn MacCool!

#i was sorely tempted to not put this under a read more and just make this a straight-up post #also there may be typos in there. i spotted one and fixed it but that was by chance.#i love james joyce #and i love very dry absurd humour

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