“Formented homey slow mead down the pagemelt quilted quiver of quill shawl of wynwyrld bushfires blairing lies burgundy rivers rushing aside the grassy noel partly paisely swirl gull on wing swooping ease grey socks in the ironing boardroom…” –Steve Fly, World Piss: The Spore Of The Words. a.k.a Shennanigums Wave.