Polly Ticks

Can you decode these puns?

What a bout this selection? Funny, I find no hilarity in ink lint on my closed new hamster—sure, fer Mont and Mont peel, yer gonna see a new haven for de mock rats. But re public ants, you see cons serve at Tivoli events. Stout of limb, awesome with the mike cane, in CD ROM knees (I admit “ROM knees” is a stir, etched a bit), Tom saw yer Huck a beet too real edge, (jes’ mark two, ancient for the rafters). The Enron pol, the rude E. July Anny, as to wives—was for a portion of Nina leaven bread with new Yorkshire, putting her broad ways at times squarely in the Lieds Center. Subways and R. B.’s are nearby. Back to Polly Ticks—Ed wards off (“Oh, bah--”)Ma’s rebukes with rich hard sons, in ovations, and while doves coo, sin itches like Alfred Tom’s son. Russ hurt them all and, oh—Riley’s questionable tack ticks. All air run ink for the prime airies and Witch states, “Will, go first”? And you, Jan, you airy or decent ember? Then comes con Van shuns next ear, mark my words. It’s peaches, peaches, Viet Nam in nations, sigh—gone are the old A’s in Casey Mo. Deli gay shuns Allstate’s old sines and ban errs. Lots of no E’s. Finally they sell ectoplasm a candid date and its ontological camp pain. Let soap that Dewars will see sand our sold years--welcome back oom safe in sound. And ambush bee, gone for every present dent in the few cheer.

Post thoughts to comments!