Monday, January 18, 2010
SATS Vocab SPEEDBUILDER!
My Husband Nob (aka SATS Vocab Speedbuilder) by ZEYU!
Nob is as aberrant a husband as one could get – well, quite almost as aberrant. He is, in the apogee of hedonistic avarice, the aspirant of asinine bacchanalianism. His often banal and rather balmy banter at home alluded to nothing of what badinage he could sprout at work – which was meritorious, for nothing allays that man’s asperity than a good measure of saccharine chortle – or wifely animus. I should also mention that one such as himself, though somewhat boisterous and audacious, was sadly, a physically amorphous man, save, for that aquiline anathema, which he calls an “olfactory immaculacy”. I, on the other hand, prefer to call it the adjunct addendum.
Now, being his partner by holy matrimony, I cannot at once go on listing all the many faults I find in this abomination of nature. Rather, his acumens are comely too. He is, for one, a most amenable husband among his many predecessors. Being in a perpetually ancillary capacity, he is adroit in the menial labors of taking up the neighbor’s affront. He has also accrued for himself a most admirable collection of accolades for acceding to every son-of-a-bitch-salesperson’s sloppy sales pitches. And if by some adventitious chance he is afflicted by antediluvian chivalry, dear me no! How he balks my attempts to deliver a good’ol roundhouse to that mousey-faced penis whose garden is abutting on our land.
Of course, please do not arbitrate my many idiosyncrasies yet. I am a goodly woman, and my appellation – The Merrywife Catherina – belies the apotheosis of as genteel and self-effacing a woman as can be. Let me remind you, that of the many blunders that Nob has had the chance to aggregate, I, in the form of a most agreeable and appeasing fashion, hid my aghast and anguish, but, admonished him gently in mild demeanor. Thereupon, I immediately absolved him of his abysmal guilt, granting amnesty where amnesty ought not to be deserved. Do not doubt, even in a fraction of a second, of my submission to my husband, my withholding of ascendancy towards this otherwise incapacitated and blithering idiot… The vice of a good woman, they say, amount to the accoutrement of acerbity in her tongue, but having practiced assiduously and ardently in the abrasion of my own oral acuity, I am sufficiently happy to say that my former bane has been transferred wholly to my appendages, whereupon, facing incurable wrath and animosity to my beloved in another of his mediatory attempts, my aphasia was assuaged by apposite annihilation. I pray to our Heavenly Father for the bereavement to myself, and to leave me with the most cherished memory of this ballast, and the solemn pride that must be mine to have laid so greatly a sacrifice upon the altar of freedom....
But grief was not for mine to have, for Harry appeared soon after. Now Harry was a bit of a wart, aplomb in his chauvinistic atavism, yet divinely beatific in his benign barrenness – that is, beatific to me, not him – because it saves me the bereavement of my femininity from what we call a bludgeon of otherwise voracity. It also gave me excellent reason to belittle him of his boorish brandish. He was quick to react, and flying up in a passionate fury, buccaneered my being in an attempted bulwark of defense. Of course, that only lent me more reason to burlesque his bristling burgeon in canny candour by pretending to swallow air. The joke was not lost on him. His already cantankerous indignation at once flew into an almighty rage, wherefore nothing I say could cajole him or dissuade him from the enterprise he had so arduously embarked upon. The resulting buffoonery was cacophonous, but not altogether catastrophic. He managed to flush me at some point of time, and managed to execute certain moves with celerity and calibre. I take my bonnet off to him…in commiseration for the brevity of his bravado, and the churlish compunction of a chump.
Nob is as aberrant a husband as one could get – well, quite almost as aberrant. He is, in the apogee of hedonistic avarice, the aspirant of asinine bacchanalianism. His often banal and rather balmy banter at home alluded to nothing of what badinage he could sprout at work – which was meritorious, for nothing allays that man’s asperity than a good measure of saccharine chortle – or wifely animus. I should also mention that one such as himself, though somewhat boisterous and audacious, was sadly, a physically amorphous man, save, for that aquiline anathema, which he calls an “olfactory immaculacy”. I, on the other hand, prefer to call it the adjunct addendum.
Now, being his partner by holy matrimony, I cannot at once go on listing all the many faults I find in this abomination of nature. Rather, his acumens are comely too. He is, for one, a most amenable husband among his many predecessors. Being in a perpetually ancillary capacity, he is adroit in the menial labors of taking up the neighbor’s affront. He has also accrued for himself a most admirable collection of accolades for acceding to every son-of-a-bitch-salesperson’s sloppy sales pitches. And if by some adventitious chance he is afflicted by antediluvian chivalry, dear me no! How he balks my attempts to deliver a good’ol roundhouse to that mousey-faced penis whose garden is abutting on our land.
Of course, please do not arbitrate my many idiosyncrasies yet. I am a goodly woman, and my appellation – The Merrywife Catherina – belies the apotheosis of as genteel and self-effacing a woman as can be. Let me remind you, that of the many blunders that Nob has had the chance to aggregate, I, in the form of a most agreeable and appeasing fashion, hid my aghast and anguish, but, admonished him gently in mild demeanor. Thereupon, I immediately absolved him of his abysmal guilt, granting amnesty where amnesty ought not to be deserved. Do not doubt, even in a fraction of a second, of my submission to my husband, my withholding of ascendancy towards this otherwise incapacitated and blithering idiot… The vice of a good woman, they say, amount to the accoutrement of acerbity in her tongue, but having practiced assiduously and ardently in the abrasion of my own oral acuity, I am sufficiently happy to say that my former bane has been transferred wholly to my appendages, whereupon, facing incurable wrath and animosity to my beloved in another of his mediatory attempts, my aphasia was assuaged by apposite annihilation. I pray to our Heavenly Father for the bereavement to myself, and to leave me with the most cherished memory of this ballast, and the solemn pride that must be mine to have laid so greatly a sacrifice upon the altar of freedom....
But grief was not for mine to have, for Harry appeared soon after. Now Harry was a bit of a wart, aplomb in his chauvinistic atavism, yet divinely beatific in his benign barrenness – that is, beatific to me, not him – because it saves me the bereavement of my femininity from what we call a bludgeon of otherwise voracity. It also gave me excellent reason to belittle him of his boorish brandish. He was quick to react, and flying up in a passionate fury, buccaneered my being in an attempted bulwark of defense. Of course, that only lent me more reason to burlesque his bristling burgeon in canny candour by pretending to swallow air. The joke was not lost on him. His already cantankerous indignation at once flew into an almighty rage, wherefore nothing I say could cajole him or dissuade him from the enterprise he had so arduously embarked upon. The resulting buffoonery was cacophonous, but not altogether catastrophic. He managed to flush me at some point of time, and managed to execute certain moves with celerity and calibre. I take my bonnet off to him…in commiseration for the brevity of his bravado, and the churlish compunction of a chump.
Ki. Lit. Maths. Econs. History.KILME(H) 09A10 5:56 AM
ARES God of WAR 0 Aresians
ARES God of WAR 0 Aresians