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Aw Hell!

Lazies and Jellyman: Hear we air to admixture your annual expletive of pharmaceutical phantasmagoria. Open your mouths, take a deep breathe and forget it. The Exeter of this jelly little piper asks me to ascribe in too many words two you how you'll love it—I hope. We have some, lean rhymes bean on this working it worries us—we hope you will like it to. The words you wood like to yews you will almost here perhaps. Vot thu 'alla you come for goodness knows but we like your money—yes please. We hope to heave a nice building some day so we can gamble in it hence our boarded interest in pents. You may have payed four a seat or some think.

This year, just for a change, Extrav. is realistic—really realistic—all the people are nearly human. As you will find out the Devil is in Waydownundah, very appropriate. Try guessing who will win out in the contest. (This is only to be attempted by those who have a certificate to say that they are now sane.) We introduce two entirely new characters and we will bet you can't pick them—Peater Razor and Quid Dollarland. A reference to Balderdash, can't think who that can be and the Editor is no help at all, is made and a type named Whippleton—"Turn Again Whippleton—you have nothing to lose but your change" as Rabbie Burns is fond of saying in Paralyse Lost, pops up and down here and there-—he even sings. Enough of this, bring in the warders ... I feel insanity returning and must concentrate—I do so like vanilla too don't you.

"On this rage we have a unimportant pronouncement from Gobblemen Gildings (Inc.) Shop dress!

"As Prime Morningstar of this beautiful little commentary I wash to comegrabulate the Stewdants on their joys. We are the gobblement and we mean to gullible this contrary. We come to bury the Upper Hutt Stockyards, not to disinfect them. Sorry wrong paper. We are going to bake the stratospheres of the community centre. The ambitional airypluses we are constiplating will convolvulus in higher intoxication. It is the cystern that is wrung and nought the indivisible. Our malefactors must be incorriged and we must do our boast to increase the voluble prediction of goods. We hope there will be a surplice on the budgie and if not we shall have to burrow interminably or obtain sum from the overseers."

Our louse manager he looks so pretty—that tie it is so indiscretion. We have tried and tried but still he is guilty. Vehemence and vigilance these are his clockwords. His biception is amazing if he seas ewe trying anything foney he will complicate your fearfully with the best set of inclinations and intestines. Be Weir!! the hakaka bawdy he may let lose and you may run—no wonder! They will pursue you even to hell—they know the way better than you do anyhow. Sew you c you bust be Sutch hell beslaved poised and girdles when you dumb your wayin through the see-Redpoors inks.

The callipers are now made up, the ballys aweight, the Curtin rises, the microbe beats Time, the crowd roars, Vot thu halla anyway? Will this do for you, Ed? Thank goodness. Back to the Asylum!

—M.J.M.

(You'd better read this aloud—New Era English.—Ed.)