Wednesday, April 27, 2011


The word today is 'QUIXOTIC':

Looking for a challenge? 'Encore from Before'. Post an entry using as many old LQW words as you see fit. Can't remember? Scroll down Memory Lane on the left hand side of the main blog page or follow this link: flipcard

Keep all entries clean, creative, and courteous.
Enjoy the game!

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  1. A Quixotic Tale

    Don Quixote could only landle when someone asked about his paramount adventures. "No time to be saturine, that's for sure," he said. After a few shots of whiskey though, he would talk, slowly, as not to writhen his story. His tales were definitely not shmegegge. "It was like going to Hades and back," he exclaimed, when he had fought the beastly basilisk and mighty ophidian. "If not for my tantivy equine, I surely would have been crochety!" Suddenly Don Quixote developed echolalia and clinophilia, and eventually fell asleep. Ah, ishkabibble!

  2. Stuck in the veprecose plains of Spain Hercules wondered yet again why he had agreed to delignate his pride and to travel to these non ambrosial parts of the world. He blamed it on Venus and her fricassee of polyphonous harangues. And her famous sylvan revolver, of course. His kneecaps were now broken because of a noctambulous ferret that urged him to cavort and dance the cotillion! He yearned to be back in Arcadia and forget all this flapdoodle with a tall latte and a piece of partridge.

  3. A Quixotic Prayetka

    Mr. Prayetka was quixotic and often saturnine. His landle on veprecose nacelle is paramount to his mint tantivy in nectarial acedia . He never panegyrize in fisticuff despite his lyonnaise echolalia and writhen clinophilia . He pomes his equine cretin flaneur hades over the cincture pilaster of his nog magpie shmegegge. he he he

  4. Quixotic Eros Bedecks Indecorous Kickshaw with Isabelline Baubles

  5. "I'm in the kitchen making magpie pie" I called out to my Hercules of a husband. "Magpie?" his echolalia came back to me. "Is that going to be enough kilocalories to feed me? I need something rather more leonine, or hoofed, Augean even, to satisfy my appetite". "Don't you worry my love" I reassured him "By the time I've conjured up mint, nog, pome and a cincture of griffin into some quixotic, nectarial lyonnaise, you'll lose your saturnine countenance and panegyrise my cooking all over town".