In the name of Onan, who is this man on the hill wearing tattered garments, standing alone? Who might the notable figure be? His misshapen body, his shriveled feet. He has crooked toes, this short-legged man, and behold, those chest muscles, so mysterious. He is savoring a midday meal from something’s skull. He appears to be a dragon-man. He is nearly at the edge of the estate, this Comestipple Saxon, whether of juniper or February, of bitter or ale, or the wild revelries of various brews. What a peculiar man.
Finnegan’s Wake
In the name of Anem this carl on the kopje in pelted thongs a parth a lone who the joebiggar be he? Forshapen his pigmaid hoagshead, shroonk his plodsfoot. He hath locktoes, this shortshins, and, Obeold that’s pectoral, his mammamuscles most mousterious. It is slaking nuncheon out of some thing’s brain pan. Me seemeth a dragon man. He is almonthst on the kiep fief by here, is Comestipple Sacksoun, be it junipery or febrewery, marracks or alebrill or the ramping riots of pouriose and froriose. What a quhare soort of a mahan.
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The Maharajagar 