“Much madness is divinest Sense
To the discerning Eye…”
I was recently transported to Dyslexika as part of a punishment. I got punished by the Department of Blog Affairs for posting objectionable material on Asian women Mum Outa Bandhopadhyay and The Slima Nursescream in one of the Bakwaas Khabar posts. Very bad taste it was in, said of the Department
Yeda Yoda. For just a taste of how bad bad taste can be (taste of nuts) read, choke and blink away tears.
Dyslexika is a country where words have limited rules. On top of that people seem to blend some words, and only some words. Sometimes, an ‘s‘ is replaced with an ‘r‘. and sometimes not. Difficult for an outsider to predict. Once you enter the country, you are programmed to speak the same type of language.
(Alice pic source: disney-lyrics.us)
I went to Dyslexika by crane. I was feeling like a hotty. I wanted them to switch on the hair conditioners, but they said ‘No way Hose. It will be a tong lime before we to dhat‘.
I went into a Gujarati store and asked the owner, “Can a man enjoy a drink in this randy beach?”
He served me a Toke on the Cable, where I had put my feet up.
“No, sis, the beach is too hot now. Oh, you push your coke with your toe? What a stunning cunt!”
Now I was sweating. I didn’t know which was witch, and were we where.
In all the confusion, I saw a sold gash. I wanted to buy it.
“Oh! That’s moo touch!”
“That’s a sold gash, and so Greeking food.”
I forget the best of the rest. This was one hit sole of a town. I outed want. I was moing gad.
And so I here lame cast. The last refuge of the