(See Guardian, 1/4/10, for Dean Baker's debunking of the piece's Petersonian economics.)
However, terrible as it may seem to the tall maiden sisters of J.P.'s in Queen Anne houses with walled vegetable gardens, this courtesan, strumpet, harlot, whore, punk, fille de joie, street-walker, this trollop, this trull, this baggage, this hussy, this drab, skit, rig, quean, mopsy, demirep, demimondaine, this wanton, this fornicatress, this doxy, this concubine, this frail sister, this poor Queenie--did actually solicit me, did actually say 'coming home to-night, dearie' and my soul was not blasted enough to call a policeman.
I think that wellingtons are a little de trop for a light shower.
Bare then the mer-wolf, / when to the bottom she came, / The ringed Prince / to her own place, / So that he might not, / for all his proud mind, / Wield his weapons; / for such wondrous things / Swinked him in the sound, / sea-deer many / With worrying tusks / his war-sark tare, / Chased him the creatures.
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