There is no boring occurring on this boring morning. Boring mechanisms
being sought in the planewaves of the outside air. In the psychesphere,
the headsphere, the hemisphere, the arena de la cabeza. Need to psychify
the crang-stranges. Crang-strange the juxts. Tum-twist the flisters.
Quarter-turn the turners. Fish-spin the flushers. Time to tum the timers.
Come here timers! Sloopy Rhymers! Con Tum Two-Timers!

Flushing wishes down the neck-toilet. Plunging wishes with the wire
whiskbrooms. Wiping wishes with steel wool. No wonder it can't feel wool.
It doesn't feel well because of the steel well — it's not a well, it's a
john, and someone's got his hand on the flusher. Might as well move to
Flushing, NY.