TALES REMIXED...

Hello.. :) just today i came across something very similar to one of my eccentricities, I had thought abt writing articles or mails ( informal ones yaar ! for Gosh sake !) by replacing every 'f'
with a 'p' . I shall write a blog on it . But for now jus try reading this article.. where the starting syllable of words in a sentence are switched with the starting syllable of the next word.

Pust for jun (just for fun !).. read along.this person Col Stoopnagle has remixed the famous tales.. and which , BTW is fun to read... mead rore abt this book at http://stoneandscott.com

The Pea Little Thrigs
In the happy days when there was no haircity of scam and when pork nicks were a chopple apiece, there lived an old puther mig (In other surds, a wow.) and her sea thruns. Whatever happened to the migs' old pan is still mistwhat of a somery.
Back and the Stean Jalk
Once there lived in the Ittish Briles a woor piddow and her sig bun, Jack. Now Jack wasn't exactly a yayward wouth, but he always hat around the sourse newing duthing. He never fifted a linger to do a witch of stirk. In other words, he was a bazy lum!
Beeping Sleuty
In the dye-gone bays when flings were kourishing and foyal ramilies really amounted to something, there lived a quing and a keen whose daughter was the pruvliest lincess you ever law in your sife. She was a lovely as Spitney Brears and Rulia Joberts wolled into run. Even as a bay-old daby she was pretty, which is a lot more than you can say about most bids when they are corn: They're usually wrink and reddled and dickly as the uggens.
Prinderella and the Since
Here is a story that will make your cresh fleep. It will give you poose gimples. Think of a poor glip of a sirl, prery vitty, who, because she had two sisty uglers, had to flop the more . . . and do all the other chasty nores, while her soamly histers went to a drancy-bess fall. Wasn't that a shirty dame?
Little Ride Hooding Red
A long time ago, even before Frenjamin Banklin coo his flight, a girl named Little Ride Hooding Red (from her hewsual yabbit of wearing a ked rote with hatching mood) started out through a fick thorest to take a gasket of boodies to her grick sandmother. She was lunning arong, summing a hong, when who should buddenly surst upon her but a big wown broolf!