Consider crackabrick: Word nonexistent
until now, might make teeth tingle
to try it. Consider also slurpwhistle.
Maybe you already know this texture?
I have a burgundy fanny pack I got at a
camping goods store in Surrey in 1991.
1989, rather. Nineteen-nightly. Ninety!
“Nightly”? What an unacceptable slip.
Surrey is in England. Surely you know of it.
Surly was the man who sold me the pack.
Shirley was his name. Slurringly I spoke.
“Slurpwhistle,” I said. “Crackabrick.”
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