In my English 102 class (yeah I know that was a while ago, just now getting around to writing this), my teacher gave us the first page of a very odd book. The book never ends and is written completely in phonetics (Irish phonetics at that!) The beginning of the book pick up in the middle of a sentence, the continuation of the last sentence of the book, which obviously ends in the middle of a sentence too. The book has no real beginning or end. This is the first page that my professor (Mike Johnson) gave us:
riverrun, past Eve and Adam's, from swerve of shore to bend of bay, brings us by a commodius vicus of recirculation back to Howth Castle and Environs.
Sir Tristram, violer d'amores, fr'over the short sea, had passencore rearrived from North Armorica on this side the scraggy isthmus of Europe Minor to wielderfight his penisolate war: nor had topsawyer's rocks by the stream Oconee exaggerated themselse to Laurens County's gorgios while they went doublin their mumper all the time: nor avoice from afire bellowsed mishe mishe to tauftauf thuartpeatrick: not yet, though venissoon after, had a kidscad buttended a bland old Isaac: not yet, though all's fair in vanessy, were sosie sesthers wroth with twone nathandjoe. Rot a peck of pa's malt had Jhem or Shen brewed by arclight and rosy end to the regginbrow was to be seen ringsome on the aquaface.
The fall
(bababadalgharaghtakamminarronnkonnbronntonnerronntuonnthunntrovarrhounawnskawntoohoohoordenenthurnuk!) of a once wallstrait oldparris retaled early in bed and later on life down through all Christian minstrelsy. The great fall of the offwall entailed at such short notice the pftjschute of Finnegan, erse solid man, that the humptyhillhead of humself promptly sends an unquiring one well to the west in quest of his tumptytumtoes: and their upturnpikepointandplace is at the knock out in the park where oranges have been laid to rust upon the green since devlinsfirst loved livvy.
Hard to read, makes a lot more sense when read outloud (though you sound like a fool). Some words and saying are Irish things, so they don't make sense unless you have a professor that lived in Ireland for a while (yay for me!) If you have someone that can speak the dialect read it to you it sounds even more like actual English. But anyways, enjoy!
This is something someone posted in one of the forums I read, I enjoyed it, and decided to post it on here.
-Because you love someone, doesn't mean it's always true
Because they love someone else, doesn't mean it's always true
Just because you feel like your willing to give yourself to that person doesn't mean its true
-True love can't just be "I love you"
True love cant be "I want you"
True love cant be "Give me your body"
True love is... not only from the eyes, not only from the body, not only from the heart.
What true love is, when one is wiling to easily throw away one's life for that person.
What what true love is, when one is willing to live with that person, no matter the faults, guilts, or past.
What true love is,.. when you can be yourself around that person. The person you love the most, must not only be the one you love, but your friend. One whom you can talk to... in sickness and in health. Until death do you part.
