"My eyelids belch with effluvial afterthoughts when you tease me with gelatin and congealed chicken rinds."

"Softly seething, surreal breathing..
Ignite the cannon with sphagnum lanthum..
Laud the armies of diphthongs with your superannuating Diphtheria..
And I will ever be your combustive tablature of igneous geometries."

"Rearing in quaffed monk, you stun me by employing eight windows when the priest is but iodine."


from The Surrealist Compliment Generator