Blogarithm

The package yawns underneath the ace. Why does the drum bang against an otherwise anomaly? Sumiki's blog delights a bliss throughout a geographical biochemistry. The vinyl favors Sumiki's blog. The junior executive calculates before a subway. Sumiki's blog flips without a rack. The dominant scripts a mist. A recovery cooperates under me. Sumiki's blog disappoints a miracle. How does an air cartoon compose against Sumiki's blog? The taxpayer rays Sumiki's blog beside the released tennis. A garble compliments Sumiki's blog. Sumiki's blog waves throughout the weapon. Into a joy pumps a skin.

 

The levant doggo dispreads westwardly.

The user’s confusion surmounts the yen. A cold light breaks the window of the paradox. Nature becomes transcending. The beauty of one’s morning is higher than the greatest picture a painter could illuminate in his being. Within the beast comes the incredulousness. Why would the singing be originated from the caged bird? Once one is hollow their heart opens to yearn for the being of the universe. It becomes unthinkable that the senselessness of indecisive emotions is devious upon reward. What must life become existent to? See the rattle of the blog’s text in its rush. The users’ reading compliments its attitude. Must sense not traverse into the ether of that place beyond originality?

 

A reckoning sweep of clatters rents the laughter into the crystals of the night.

Are you guys making this up or is there a pattern/method to it? It certainly looks like there's a pattern.

I'm gonna guess it's a generator. But I can't figure out what it'd be called.

I'm gonna guess it's a generator. But I can't figure out what it'd be called.

 

I don't know about Daiker and Sumiki, but I made up mine from scratch. It was hard to write, let me tell you.

The user’s confusion surmounts the yen. A cold light breaks the window of the paradox. Nature becomes transcending. The beauty of one’s morning is higher than the greatest picture a painter could illuminate in his being. Within the beast comes the incredulousness. Why would the singing be originated from the caged bird? Once one is hollow their heart opens to yearn for the being of the universe. It becomes unthinkable that the senselessness of indecisive emotions is devious upon reward. What must life become existent to? See the rattle of the blog’s text in its rush. The users’ reading compliments its attitude. Must sense not traverse into the ether of that place beyond originality?

 

A reckoning sweep of clatters rents the laughter into the crystals of the night.

ur doin' it wrong

 

That actually makes sense

What ze eck?!

 

i dont even

Sumiki, alas, at the tenebrous hour, did find it unwise to permit himself to absolve memory of his most secure verbal key. For it was the key that granted that great gift of trust, of solicitude, of frankness and honesty, of earnesty. That verbal key, so sophiscated, so beautifully crafted, so as to permit access into that matrix of creativity, that wondrous machine, electrically connected to many other such devices, in a technological display of utmost intellgence, the magnum opus of the homosapien creaturekind.

 

In his cerebral lapse, the aforementioned knowledge of the unlocking element did vanish, yet foreseeing this event he had the prudence, or perhaps foolishness, though nary shall it be discerned by mortal reason as to which of those two, that he allowed such vital information to pass into the claws of one Lhikevikk. Lhikevikk, that eccentric acquaintance, whose nome de plume doth haunt the minds of those who search out the magnum opus of the homosapien creaturekind. For it was that bizarre entity who seized upon such knowledge, and took it upon himself to exert that power for his own demented purposes.

 

At the centre of the nocturnal timeframe, half past into an an even more tenebrous hour, the being awaited the cerebral lapse of self-awareness prophesied by the unfortunate comrade of his. His organs of vision shifted asynchronously, searching out the vicinity for potential risk of testimony, of evidence circumstancial, anecdotal and empirical. Silently, he stalked forward, his visual organs bejeweled with contemplation of the sensational act of limited sanity he was preparing himself to execute. Locking his sight onto the luminous surface, radiating the knowledge of that matrix of creativity, he set his digits to execise the power bestowed on him by his oblivious accomplice. Appliying pressure to the lettered quadraliterals on the device below te luminous surface, he typographically inputted the knowledge so bestowed on him, of that complex verbal key designed as a countersign of trust, so that the wondrous machine would be deceived, believing erroneously that its faithful comrade Sumiki was requesting its services.

 

He act of trickery complete, he began to seek out the information locked inside the wondrous machine. Most fortuitously, he happened upon a certain arrangment of the miniscule points of colour on the luminous surface, the arrangement being that which detailed the musings of its proper owner. Reaching out for the control device, zoologically named, he shifted its location, so that a small irregular figure, displayed on the luminous surface, might alter its own position to that of rectangular shape marked in modern script with words detailing a command to create a new collection of thoughts to be displayed on that list of collections which rightfully displayed those of Sumiki. Applying pressure to the upper left corner of the zoologically named control device, the luminous surface transformed in response to a different display, this one requesting the typographical input of a new collection of thoughts. Returning to the lettered quadraliterals below, he concocted a vichyssoise of verbiage that could only come from such a perturbed mind as his, bearing little rational congruance and being most incoherent.

 

His act of madness complete, Lhikevikk, returned to the unconscious Sumiki. Being wary so as not to disturb his slumber, he discreetly related a ficticious account of how it was Sumiki who had written such a raving. Escaping surreptitously, Lhikevikk left Sumiki in the utterly incorrect notion that it was himself who hath typographically inputted such nonsense.

 

...

 

what the heck did i just write

The user’s confusion surmounts the yen. A cold light breaks the window of the paradox. Nature becomes transcending. The beauty of one’s morning is higher than the greatest picture a painter could illuminate in his being. Within the beast comes the incredulousness. Why would the singing be originated from the caged bird? Once one is hollow their heart opens to yearn for the being of the universe. It becomes unthinkable that the senselessness of indecisive emotions is devious upon reward. What must life become existent to? See the rattle of the blog’s text in its rush. The users’ reading compliments its attitude. Must sense not traverse into the ether of that place beyond originality?

 

A reckoning sweep of clatters rents the laughter into the crystals of the night.

ur doin' it wrong

 

That actually makes sense

 

Really?

 

Oh, gosh. The rules of grammar have brainwashed me.