pbot/modules/compliments.txt

Ah! how the play of light upon your shoulders does bring one to reminisce of fallen lighthorsemen and gaseous trenches.
A kitten's growl would not come near the plights of your spoken voice.
A Latvian in pain could not attain your Gibraltar-mending squeals.
Anathema comes ever to mind when thinking of you.
As the bile slowly rises in my incandescent eluxulator, your mere presence has a calming effect upon my rabies.
A suburban distance lying across your chest, a purpled frock befitting the asphyxiated, cans of lima beans upon your knees, you are truly a goddess of disturbed tranquility!
Beauty is cataplexed in contemplation of your multidimensional effervescence.
Be still, my love, my watermelon rind. I am consumed with your collection of agile fans and pocked blades.
Bleed me! My memory is fried with your pork!
BUY WAR BONDS
Ceci n'est pas un compliment.
Certainly your trout are more proseperous to vaccuum than the flying coachmen of Czar Nicholai!
Cher ami, votre tendre chapeau a heurte trois de mes phalanges avec une grace incomparable.
Come, let me gnaw your fingernails that I may absorb and lose myself in the wise and gritty detritus that is you.
Convexion sees between your eyes. Herds of gazelle concave at your feet!
Cretins and vermin cannot compare with the depths of your cousins.
Cry for the stiffness of the earlobe. The turtles are fallen and the rain stands still. How long must I suffer with your undergarments?
Demonize your sofa. It will lend forth more peanuts between the cushions.
Din nese overger kun din haltende underleppe!
Dustmites the world over love you for your feet.
EAT SPASMOTIC RICE! It beguiles and will improve your complexion.
ENGINEER YOUR AUNT! Do it! You will be grateful for having done so. Yolutsky promises to cease diddling with your ears.
Entranced by the bitter harmony of your lips, I gaze beyond reason to find the oasis of your ruptured soul.
Ermine derision scalds your protuberant nares.
Es demasiado tarde, pero te ves guapisimo.
Ever do I seek the elusive flexures of your large intestine.
Ever do you remind me of a staircase falling exotically into a sea of spilled macaroni.
Ever do your tears shed forth an peal of epidermal thunder!
Ever would one thank the very ground upon which you walk that your blossoming feet be never engaged.
Eyes like scars dimple your ears.
Fast blinking reveals the true visage of time pieces hidden within your eyes.
Fear not the earl lest I had conquered him and peopled else this isle with Calibans.
Fighting for the liberty of the fruit tree tastes nothing like the glint of sagittarius rounding itself around your uvula. I know the time will soon arrive when we will see people manufactured in crates and seives of glass.
Flies dance operas to your wisdom.
Garbage bins would be seventh with ivy to hold your face under a stone.
Give me your hand that I may want of your broken nails.
Heizenmizstenwerner ut mal die westernmoviefurter und glipzenglagenheimer zieden un der witzelwaltzerfloggen...
Hermaphrodites around the galaxy desire that you turn your rock and crochet bowl to its loudest setting.
His majesty's caravan is as compelling as your temper.
How beautiful is the snowshine in your eyes, so directly current from the static in your brain.
How can I help but use your eyes as a means for self-asphyxiation?
How lovely is your curdled priest!
I do sense a complete and utter vaccuum in the space between your auricles.
I find your eye sockets to be a wondrous amusement park of neo-plastic pleasures and oncogenic delights.
If I were to combine your blood, toes, and hair, it might not be you, but it would be enough for my basic desires.
If seen on a disintegrating smokestack, your eyelashes would certainly compell even a wayward band of masticating cod into a feverish frenzy.
If you behave there will be cake for the miscreants we call your brothers.
If you were a camel your humps would be esoterically bald from overuse.
Il mio cuore batte per te come un trattore al minimo
I love your eyes, but only with ketchup.
I must demand your pleasing chin! How it passes there and back again like a leopard searching for its misplaced frontal lobes.
In caressing your follicles I am only vaguely reminded of the bitter harvest.
In hunger you most certainly drool pendulums of sinusoids and wounded mosques.
In your absence I find other forms of amusement.
In your presence even a batallion of body builders could pass the New York State driving exam.
In your presence even my shadow acquires the sensation of touch.
I relentlessly desire your custard tongue between my eyelids.
I see your loves in cloves.
I should welcome flagellation by your ovoviviparous torso.
I surmise that your basement is made of skin and is never depleted of nurses.
Its a far far better thing I do than to require that you find me a hammer and pummel me with all due diligence.
I would beg to see your arms raised in calcification towards the expanding horizon as the minutemen stand before me with their phallic gums aimed and loaded..
I would gladly eat chamberpots of your sickled beans and thalassemic rice.
I would sing by an aria of pain to your endearments and wiles.
Kanseller din ekstreme hundekjeks innen det virtuelle livmorsfälget eksellerer.
La pluie de vos insultes n'atteint pas le parapluie de mon indifference.
La sola visione dei tuoi magnifici occhi mi fanno diventare ottimista per tutto cio' che riguarda la mia vita.
Legions of Communists worship your robust cannabalism of Capitalists clad in junk mail suits.
Les caresses de tes yeux fertiles sont plus douces que toutes les gifles de tes mains rouilies.
'Lo, EUREKA,' I yelled into the cat, 'Thou art truly laborious and divergent. My nose bleeds for your impending encounter with the front fender of a Mercedes Benz.'
Luminescence breeds in your finest moments of desperation.
Madame, your implement is admonishing me!
Madam! How your enormous foreskin shades me from the sun!
Madam, what a handsome moustashe you wear!
Mano a mano, le tue ossiflexe, si starnubbano nel brondio.
Many sausages have known things before you had time to react.
Marmots will stick to you in Delaware.
May bathtubs overflow upon your offspring.
May clinging breasts always come to your aid in the kitchen.
May you always be as vivid as your hallucinations.
May you always have stables of horses to service your needs.
May you ever have naked women to toss tiny pickels an coo in oblivious delight at your witty urbane opener of foreign post.
May your shit always sport dog on the bottom of your shoe.
May your succulent earlobes ever flap about my knees like a thousand wooden pigeons fleeing the local sawmill.
Mon amour, tu es aussi bestiale qu'une branche de cedre!
Most certainly, your fingernails stimulate magnetism in the most organic of solvents!
My elbow sockets sharpen pencils when you pass by on divine fumes of industrial combustion.
My eyelids belch with effluvial afterthoughts when you tease me with gelatin and congealed chicken rinds.
My pathological scar desires to cite poetry through the ruddied girth of your soul!
Never align yourself too much with the Listerine salesman.
Never pet your dog when it is on fire.
Never was a man so badly meant to wear corrective glasses.
No results found
Oh!, how you inflict me with wounds of paranoia and desire.
Optical delusions still themselves when you pass by in convexing pomp and sacral trance
Panoramic aromavision is too narrow for olfaction in your general presence.
Rearing in quaffed monk, you stun me by employing eight windows when the priest is but iodine.
Ringworm sleeps comfortably around your umbilicus.
Sausage casings are not the intended consequence of fashionable dress.
Send me your hang nails. With great eagerness I will knit them into divine papal integuments.
Seven donkeys and a concubine cannot compare with the tarnished sheen left in your path of combustion.
Sir, what exquisite breasts you have!
Sir, you have most exquisite breasts.
Sir, you've broken your water.... may I get you a new glass?
So charmingly heathen, your skin is like a teardrop on a popsickle.
Softly seething, surreal breathing.. Ignite the cannon with sphagnum lanthum.. Laud the armies of diphthongs with your superannuating Diphtheria.. And I will ever be your combustive tablature of igneous geometries.
Soft sausages would gladly procreate in the bathwater of your verisimilitude.
Solitamente, quando emani profumi, mi ricordi lamette circonflesse.
So precisely, your head fits into the smallest of diameters.
Sortons les routes des mamelles d'antan launch la joie des voleurs la nacelle se remplit.
Sound barricades itself into rolls of peautbutter when you speak.
Such meals that you cook! Certainly your kitchen is overrun with pestilence and vermin!
Suffer, for you are toasting the Marzipan!.. (..and may I upon pretense ring latent tintinabulations for your Andalusian raisins!)
Tabulate your monger. You will be well-flayed for the effort!
Teacups smash, flounders ignite spontaneously in your presence.
Tensile congratulations on your conceptual development of obliterative existence!
The dimples of your breasts do pucker evocatively when you smile.
The expanse of your intelligence is a void no universe could ever fill.
The expansion (and resultant rapid cooling) of your consecrated culotte sings the golden turnip with the mulatto touch-typist in my pants.
The French Foreign Legion could not match the lucid beauty of your toenails!
The glow of your teeth exudes the courage of raw liver.
The goats you buy shed a perfume that makes Marxism so terribly clear to me.
The Green Paint on the Walls Clouds my Thoughts of Flying Planks of Wood, Much An ocean-going tin of crosseyed mussels could never match the melodious burblings of your sister's husband.
The holes in your earloabs ever make me think fondly of the pock-marked landscapes upon the lunar surface.
The limpidity of your objections ever motivates my hunger.
The ocean's foam matches the froth of hair streaming through your lips.
The perils of your eyelashes torture my libido into a state of crass belief in Roman Catholicism.
The phase of your hallucinations reminds me of those balmy days when the championship mould was breeding, when the fish were long, and so were the valued floats of men we drank through narrow straws...
The quietness of a manhole cover cannot compare with the wild vapours of nylon I sense in your larynx.
The seared runes crossing your divided consciousness do speak of contemptuous cardinals setting a spanish villa ablaze.
The shape of your ears is the totality of bedpans in a fit of cholera.
The sisters of St. Cathode ask that you cover yourself with filaments and take pains to make yourself fully incandescent this evening.
The spark of intelligence in your blinking eyes is not unlike the glow from the teeth of an electrocuted axe-murderess.
The tiny sounds of ancient bees resound forth from the forrested coercions between your toes.
Thine integral refractions upon a lump of coal exhibit multiple pulmonary geysers.
Thine right eye so plitherates that thine left eye doth graze uopn it.
Timepieces could not know your age.
Transistors bridge where your vanity would never go.
Tribes of primitve hunters, with rhinestone codpieces rampant, should build pyra mids of Chevy engines covered in butterscotch syrup to exalt the diastolic, inef fable, scintillated and cacophonous salamander of truth which slimes and distracts from each and every orifice of your holy refrigerator, Sears be its brand.
Troglodyte kidneys measure sardonic spasms not unlike the movements of an albatross buried in creosote.
Tus ojos me piden agarrarte por el cuello y exprimirlo.
Uw oren zijn als vliegende schotels.
Votre regard est plus penetrant qu'une stalagmite sertie dans son antre d'albatre
Wallets of fur would bombard a triassic keychain rather than dialyse in your equable fishtank.
Wear stents akimbo!
Wend you not to wreak annihilable havoc with my tumefascent transmitters and turgid devices.
Were giraffe's antennae to sprout from your barnacled elbows, one could but weep for the pretense of a fallen chamber pot.
What beautiful negligence you wear!
Wheals and boils come forth as testament to your fine sense of haut couture.
When faced with scathing winds and torrents pouring forth stain, your mind thinks cleverly to the leprous angels found in all train crashes.
Where it not for the dizzy whiptail ambivalence of your crumbling fleece, I could never contemplate the ways of so many merchant bankers in heat.
Woe is me, for I must forever more huddle, unminded, in the dark shadow of thine undeserved engine of procreation.
Woods nymphs sprinkle your path with bowlings balls while you dance and prowl in the sequined moonlight with leftover heads of lettuce.
You are a banana moon subverting the sun.
You are as dazzling as a pregnant cow attired in electrical sockets.
You are as effective as a linear geometry based upon the Maginot Line.
You are as frightful as an engine developed solely for the countenance of sexual inuendo by country music.
You are as orange as a congeleen afro curled around the bony edges of a silver spoon expressing its innermost desires for a lime-based detergent.
You are as truthful as a Communist in the streets of Milan.
You are more beautiful than a bouquet of fossils.
You are the Ayatollah of Confusion on the night of Divalí.
You are the sound of one lip kissing.
You are the swordfish that will never shower.
You are truly a wristwatch in a world of lumps.
You blink thrice warned that I can but think of the eyebrows of Richard Nixon covering a hostess of furry twinkies.
You breath as delicately as vapors of methane flowing towards an attractive flame.
You cannot compare with the apex of a ferris wheel, nor the nadir of a ditch filled with a coelocanth's droppings.
You do but seize my motor fixtures into a likeness not unlike the moon.
You do dine so emergently that sanguine trepidation overcomes the house-staff.
You enter while seven exits.
You ever remind me of the enigma of postage not sent.
You foment graciously, as ever any dying monster did rot.
You hail the calves as eloquently as any facade of Easter Island.
You have been blessed with the egregious qualities of a duffle-bag in His Majesty's Royal Navy.
You have no socially redeeming value.
You have not yet reached the height of your depravity.
You have the intrepid appeal of a carnivorous apple on its way to a pile of cadaveric stones.
You have the patience of a trilobite.
You have the vocabulary of an aspidistra in panic.
You look like a million paces tonight.
You look like someone who has lunched poorly and who has no expectations for dinner.
You meander through love as a river delta contemplating levitation.
You move with the eloquence of disintegrating fuselage.
You mutter such objects of equine delight that the mind's ability to sew slices of mordant ivory becomes tamed with visions of Tamils in Constantinople.
Your affluent effluent drives even the most zeal-minded to imbibe.
Your aquiline senescence implores me to generalize within the relms of a starfish's lifelong hallucinations of gelatin pools and of actuaries floating upon the Rhine.
Your arms lengthen daily like the edges of a festering table.
Your beautiful bulgarian bricks stack like the thousand eyes of Estonian potatos, peering amid fuzzy dreams of corrugated cardboard.
Your brilliant hematoma does beguile the natives.
Your brother's chicken coop is as abundunt as the home port of the U.S. Navy's Sixth Fleet.
Your cleverness ferments meat without the need of oxygen.
Your dainty nostrils flare with the humblest grandiosity of an ant swallowing a water buffalo.
Your dandruff falls like the fixtures within a scenic railway passing through a thousand bearded rainbows...
Your dashingly colored toupee twists my right boot into a state of ennui with the speed and dexterity of many lemon meringue-coated conquistadors.
Your ear-splitting sequels have a mind of their own.
You reflections bear a turgidity that rends naked glass.
Your elbow patches rumble with a fear reminiscent of mayonnaise cradled in scotchguard.
Your entrance is ever a segue to endless lands of derision.
Your eyebrows are as verdantly forrested as the woodworms of my most sombre dreams.
Your eyelids refract the turgid limnations of an eel trapped in flickering cinematographic paralysis.
Your eyes are like spheres of glue filled with shimmering worms.
Your eyes are much like milky pools of pantyhose.
Your eyes flash upon my cathode ray flesh in a manner that propels my viscera into an eternal state of turgid flux.
Your eyes glow like naked livers burning in the sun.
Your eyes shine with the greed of a misplaced tea strainer.
Your eyes show as many deep and full shades of blue as a healing bruise upon an injured forelimb.
Your face does bend even the most anorexic mirror into a sensuous playground of muscular spasms.
Your face is like an imperfectly shaven tennis ball.
Your fingers are as divine as the pope's nostril hair.
Your fingers staple pine nuts into everything you touch.
Your fingers sublimate into volcanic gases with the slightest cooling touch from the antennae of a passing lyre.
Your hair is reminiscent of a self-digesting yak in heat.
Your hair sends forth a sheen remniscent of a wounded man streaming bandage gauze from the highest church steeple.
Your Hands do the work of 10,000 highly trained lesbian jumping beans.
Your higher cerebrations are most post-mortem.
Your higher coritcal centers ever send forth ignorant bliss and immortal contaigon.
Your ideas are as fresh and new as an agatized stromatolite.
Your intelligence attains the grand summation of molecular motion at absolute zero.
Your intelligence is equal to the smoothness of a walnut shell.
Your layers of absinthe and torsion form concretions of hyperalimentation.
Your legs are like threads of cotton, though much thicker, and filled with weevils.
Your love is like 1000 caucasian carnivores playing mumblety peg with an eggplant.
Your mobile calluses massage even the most scarred of surfaces.
Your moist towelette speaks to me in lather as the disgruntled post man listens attentively in Yidish, pumping only an iron to the mini-van.
Your mother once had eyes that shone like the legs of Mae West.
Your mucuous membranes glisten with the glow of reactions in the act of regurgitation.
Your nasal hair speaks volumes concerning the Isle of Wright.
Your nasal linings will last as long as the skin of rocks, thrust enigmatically upon a distant shorline of mating beetles.
Your nose hair is pleasingly twisted with the roots of a bristlecone pine that is so precariously perched on the side of a cliff it may easily uproot and fall upon the Republican lobbyists below.
Your nose hairs scare me.
Your pendulous thorax makes cellists envious of the rotund sounds emanating from your nose in D minor.
Your petulance is seduction unto extinction.
Your pharyngeal hair tickles the divine underbelly of my terrestrial erector set with saponifying liquors.
Your presence puts me in a truly albino mood.
Your presence reminds one of a blind jackal, eternally dependent upon misguided archbishops to provide instruction in bowling.
Your raw sensuality flusters me as the dog sneezes into the ventilation fan.
Your skin emanates such a porcelain sheen that I am tempted to stamp WC under your bosom and across your armpits.
Your skin sheds forth so that I endlessly crave pans of fried baclava.
Your soul contains all that is found in insects, pigs and vermin.
Your successful diet could mean countless pounds shed for the planet.
Your sunburnt skin is as beautiful as gangrenous flesh peeled from an amputated limb.
Your sweet voice is like the snap of a bra strap upon a sun burnt back.
Your tears evoke a taste as memorable as honey.
Your teeth are as soft as liquid stones poured from an aquamarine vase of solidifying flesh.
Your timeless negligence has a way of arousing my palliative inuendo.
Your unexpected explosion entangles us in a web of premature umbrellas and precocious timepieces.
Your wit, your teeth, your pasty reflection can but incorporate freely into the powerful surface of a disintegrating mirror set afloat upon a swarm of locusts.
Your woes provide the mechanism for cylidrical reasoning.
You salivate strongly, like a platoon of army engineers trapped in a fit of malaria.
You so truly know your inner plankton, it is a revelation not unlike discovering an impacted toll booth upon the plains of Patagonia.
You turn the atmosphere wild with currents of vitriol when you smile at the passing insects.
You wear your breasts like a man with an uncontrollable bulge in his apartment.
You wear your ears well, true to the testament of loose fitting flesh.