How To Build A Wordhouse

The wordhouse is made from seven pieces of pottery cut from a single language. The theme is made by combining two pieces of pandemonium and smoothing them out with a little breath and a little silver bell swung slowly back and forth. When placed together, the clauses in a sentence will make a dovetail and the beveled edges of a homily may be included by putting the bevel setting on a cognitive bias and then inflating it until it breaks and shards of nonsense come raining down. This will help distinguish your wordhouse from a word salad. Measure, mark, and cut a turnpike out of a pencil. If you use a pen properly you can make it do wonderful things. You can paint a sheet of paper with syllables. This is called writing. Writing is an important component of the wordhouse. For example, the front and back panels of a paragraph may be used for walls or liposuction. If you make two marks on the bottom of a journey you can be sure to arrive at a destination you hadn’t planned and a reservation you hadn’t made. At this juncture, you add all the parrots and participles you’ll need to create an acoustic environment. Once you discover that the center of things is hollow without a spirit level and an ontology you can proceed to the drill the wordhouse entrance. This will require distinguishing between “personal” identity and “self” identity, an idea well-established in the phenomenological literature – for example, in Husserl’s distinction between the “transcendental ego” and the person – but I will argue that the best wordhouses are made with untreated wordiness underwater with a clear plastic mask and a tube to breathe through. This is caused linguistic relativity & comes with a fork and a massage gun. When the wordhouse is done take a bow and watch the words fly out.