Bush and Condy

Within the aerodrome it was all light and heat and turmoil of the soul feast inexplicable to the Sunday morning crowd outside the park ready for a getaway that would take them to the end of the universal studios and the empire of the fire gods building upon the trust of relationships bonded by Chaplin in his last years.

Triumphant though the nuclear reactors fissility determined by the horse power of corolla or coronaries distorting the future of Shakespearean theatre and antediluvian pamperitude of a Theresa like congruence. Individualistic in thinking and provoking the realm of quiet amphitheatres Spartacus tigerd Caesars pound of flesh.

The end however did not come in the prescribed form in triplicate and the triumvirate had no option but to put the consuls to the coliseums and nail their ears on the doorposts. Much abundant caution was applied by the bank managers in ensuring that their money was put where their mouth wasn’t looking at the areas outside the fluid recesses of the terrible python. Much indicated by the roman toga and the goatee of the multimedia complex that was bypassed by levels of intricacies that untold layers of emotions melded into a near and dear happitude.

Perchance it was the heat of the winter that scorched the butterflies in the coromandel coast besides the new York plaza in Kandy and Rangoon where the freedom fighter was being incarcerated by the Burmese goons retrospectively entertaining the visitors form mountainous ranges, danube and rocky mountains competing with comparable brands of non foaming toothpastes that did not contain sodium laureth sulphate.

Wonderful cadences in the limiting nightfall where corporate initiatives did not alleviate alluvial soils producing the right lighting and special effects pesticides that made it a runaway success in Hollywood and the black forest in an entirely white inhabited countryside.

Which brings us back to Bush in the lighthouse waving out a lantern to Condy who was slugging it out with Saddams lawyers and counting 10 Bush telling the lighthouse keeper about his war on terrified patriarchs who were undoubtedly relieved by the earplugs provided by the earnest soldiers of the revolution that overturned the metallurgical college. Bush spoke with transparency and liquidity of the central bank that financed his adventures of the lost empire and the turn of the dinosaurs to Spielbergs bedroom which while being another story does not take away anything from the high standards of reciprocity and felicity that has been the hallmark of the channel as well as the cards though archie may not agree to the archetypical classifaction and extensituation of the Bush era.

While one in the hand was worth two in the Bush, one bush was worth less than its wait in the cold. And storm troopers came in their storms and lifted the prez from his perch atop the lighthouse and took him to realms across the sea and sand and left in the summer of his discontent to teach lessons and fight terror and preserved his way with words and his urbane temper declassified information that were thrown to the winds of confusion consultation and confederation as Condy continued her tryst with Saddams lawyers.