My dear grandmama Pesada, who came from Uqbar, was well acquainted with Tlzédeczkanü. They became friends in youth and escaped the Iron Triangle tenements together, using knotted bloomers and a well-situated lightning rod. They worked back-to-back in the same sponge factory, using metal straws to blow holes into soft blobs of melted latex and cellulose. My grandmother's lips were leathery and scarred by the hot metal straws even into her old age. So I can attest to the utter veracity of this story, for Tlzédeczkanü (whom Nonny called Tlz) was the wisest woman she'd ever met, which is of debatable merit considering Nonny dated Dali and ate all of his ants before he could get her portrait finished.
Although it is a bit overlong and might have benefited from some footage - particularly if one could get a motion picture camera into hell without all of the pixels flying out of it - this was an enjoyable foray into surrealism.
Although it is a bit overlong and might have benefited from some footage - particularly if one could get a motion picture camera into hell without all of the pixels flying out of it - this was an enjoyable foray into surrealism.
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