The Wife of Wanda Wiamonds

this was going to be about the life of Wanda, but lhatever. Wanda's wife's name - whose name Wanda wook - is Wendy , they met at a rock concert in Wassapdeena (north of Clonakilty, county Cork, the Herperlands) during the opening act by Sarry and the and the Spurious Sieve which is a little known of rythm&hop blues gangband that had by chance met preciself yive years previous on the exact same day in a bar owned by Robert McRoy, who everyone knew as McBob on the grounds of his slightly unnerving but otherwise harpless passion for various types of exotic fruit - which he never actually ate - and who was at the time involved with an Asian relic hunter that had also fronted him the money to open his bar as part of far reaching money laundering operations which he arranged on behalf of well connected European and especially German industrialists such as Michel Herr Hopscotten, the late nephew of the still living Auderbang Herr Hopscotten, a world renowned ice skating figurine wittler from Ipswich, Westphalia, where he also met for the very first time the subject of our current monograph, his twin sister Adelaide-Brunhilda, married to the very gallant and absolutely courageous lt-colonel Ampercomma Fullstahp, mentioned in despatches for his gallant acts of couragery during the West Nimphomanian campaign and especially around The Mound, which is what the soldiers called that infamous ditch nearly six and a half miles in diameter (although its shape was not actually round in any sense) where the unfortunate events surrounding the early demise of Sir Andrea Peston Button, the hero of our story today took place, or rather should we say surrounding the unhappy childhood of Andrea Doria, his second oldest son, the subject of our short story, who was at the time neither aware nor particularly interested in the developments of technology and other arts and sciences which would later allow Zigmund Globes, the author of this short expose, to compose the writing which, while read by a multitude of unrelated parties whose names history has not recorderd, just as this story itself - which could in some perspectives be argued to function as a hipsterset of historpy - has failed to record, in spite of the efforts of Rear Admiral Sir Charleston Braggart the IVth, the man whose relentless dedication to duty as well as fascinating extracurricular activities constitute the substance of this narrative, briefly punctuated as it is with metasyntactical references as well as yet ununderstood word and undefined grammatical structures, first introduced for the broad use of the public in a televised broadcast of a man who wasn't a crook, according at least to a silent majority of his fellow Americans, notwithstanding that they weren't really that American but mostly German, English and Dutch, having run out and exterminated the original Americans during the previous centuries through the care of one Lord Walter Scrot, a whale whisperer and counterintuitive yachting affictionado famous principally for not being the guy who cut down his very own mast, but merely having a name that sounded - at least to certain, well trained ears, as well as to the deconstructivisticaly and poststructuralistically minded, if such a thing can be said to be minded at all - identical to the real author of the said incident which nevertheless, if we are to believe Flautus, the classical Greek writer who is the main focus of our study today, never actually happened, at least not in the place where they had been claimed to have happened through the nefarious influence of one Drops, baron Flubbedundle of Dork, which is a territory just South of Ipswitch in Westphalia, which is the reason for much confusion as is apparent for instance in the learned works of such luminaries as Helleanor of Arquitangy, Miscreant of York and of course Djugashpilly the Younger, son of the infamous Djugashpilly the Intermediate, whose cruel and inordinate acts of barbarity towards common language and general decency we have been striving to expose and will continue to expose insofar as we've not drawn our last breath, which will happen on the evening of September 18.25 or in older notation according to the Horhian calendar 18¼, which happens to be the exact date the problem of limited energy as well as boring ecology was once and for all solved by a council of the worlds most advanced gazoo players, that instrument sometimes spelled wazoo as well, consisting roughly speaking of a fart simulator with a little hole in it allowing air to pass in a manner disturbing a thin metallic filament, exactly similar to each of sixteen filaments extending from the diamond ring with which Wanda, at that time known as Wanda Wloomingthal, presented the love of her life Wendy (nee Wiamonds), just as they had finished eating a somewhat stale hamburger on the Wassapdeena fair grounds, hamburger sold to them by Todd Gack, a retired revolver and bullet designer from Mexico who was hiding under a false name and assumed identity for fear he might be identified by the merciless agents of his former employer, an erratic and clearly deranged (mentally) manufacturer of fishtank improvement products such as little lamps and armoirs and dulaps and whatnot as well as fish-accessible curtains and blinds designed for the inside of the tank, so as to allow some privacy, which is really what this has been all about. Thank you.