Flangiprop: An inevitable solution for
flanging, especially when gunged onto chumby props.
It was a lugubrious day when the grunges
decided to flange the boggles. The boggles were crimbling and muldiferous
clumples were sprouting into a zang. The grunges were flambled with the
trundles laying on a shlodded frange.
“Let us dring the klobble” said a boggle and all began dringing as fast as they could.
“No, this is leading nowhere. We must flangiprop.”
There was a grundiferous crungle in boggled voices.
“Flangiprop?”
“Yes, with all the pling that you can quadify” said the compled boggle.
“But the quoogles are venting and the klogs are strooding”
Then appeared a klug of quoogles carrying their noggles, breathing trings of flange. Klogs trumpled on the zilg.The boggles galumped to their klongs. The quoogles strang the volgs and took the flangiprop in their wilgs. The boggles approached glinkled and crimmed.
“Flangiprop” shouted a quoogle
“Prop the flangis” answered a boggle.
They joined forces and retired to the croogle for a chump of groth.
It was a lungled sprang but the flangi was propped. Quoogles and boggles retired to their milgs and were slooged with their flangi. Propped it was and a wongled moon shone down on the crims. A murmer of shlangs could be heard. All was trimbled.
“Let us dring the klobble” said a boggle and all began dringing as fast as they could.
“No, this is leading nowhere. We must flangiprop.”
There was a grundiferous crungle in boggled voices.
“Flangiprop?”
“Yes, with all the pling that you can quadify” said the compled boggle.
“But the quoogles are venting and the klogs are strooding”
Then appeared a klug of quoogles carrying their noggles, breathing trings of flange. Klogs trumpled on the zilg.The boggles galumped to their klongs. The quoogles strang the volgs and took the flangiprop in their wilgs. The boggles approached glinkled and crimmed.
“Flangiprop” shouted a quoogle
“Prop the flangis” answered a boggle.
They joined forces and retired to the croogle for a chump of groth.
It was a lungled sprang but the flangi was propped. Quoogles and boggles retired to their milgs and were slooged with their flangi. Propped it was and a wongled moon shone down on the crims. A murmer of shlangs could be heard. All was trimbled.
A most spondiferous telliture!!
ReplyDeleteLOL. I like your imagination.
ReplyDeleteYikes Pat. I didn't understand a word of that, now the mind boggles. LOL
ReplyDeleteWhat the ding dong is that photo of?