'Tis almost morning, I would have thee gone—.
And yet no farther than a wan-ton's bird,
That lets it hop a little from his hand,
Like a poor prisoner in his twisted gyves,
And with a silken thread plucks it back again,
So loving-jealous of his liberty.
”O freddled gruntbuggly thy micturations are to me
As plured gabbleblochits on a lurgid bee.
Groop, I implore thee my foonting turlingdromes.
And hooptiously drangle me with crinkly bindlewurdles,
Or I will rend thee in the gobberwarts with my blurlecruncheon, see if I don’t.”
by Prostetnic Vogon Jeltz
”O freddled gruntbuggly thy micturations are to me
As plured gabbleblochits on a lurgid bee.
Groop, I implore thee my foonting turlingdromes.
And hooptiously drangle me with crinkly bindlewurdles,
Or I will rend thee in the gobberwarts with my blurlecruncheon, see if I don’t.”
by Prostetnic Vogon Jeltz
Not recommended for viewing by anyone, particularly while at work or while wanting to maintain sanity:
http://bjorkcub.tumblr.com/post/9693954879/shake-that-bear