transparinoan root functors and the intonations of Doctor Rollox

H(3,Q)(Q) is psuedohomomorphic to a lemon straddling three ice cream cones and staring lazily at the ice. H(2,Q)(Q) is an orange being subtly attacked by the French Legion. H(1,T)(Q) is a bellyache of a deity in the midmorning of a gestalt's bright collapse at the hands of utter thermonuclear war. The precise contents of the message were printed on bond paper, curled in a tube, sprayed with frankinscence, put in a bottle, corked, and thrown in the probability oceans. Perhaps one of my interlocuters will have better luck with the message inside. I doubt it. You should too! You should exercise your appreciation of the logos and the kairos and the callous kallosness of the acerbic, ascetically astringent gaberdine wearing bandoliers. H(7pi,Q)(X) reverts to the stone masons' guild. It surprises the purple antelope with the green irises on a nasty March mid-morning. It interpenetrates the cosmic brick field. It collides and gerrymanders the random muon. H(Q,2)(C) insults the pepper-grinder, entombs the oft-rollickingly incomprehensible ochre yarrow-bird. H(U,U)(Z) turns the bottom of the tiny wombat in a luxuriatingly disgusting superhero wearing nothing but a plastic thong and a beanie baby.