CLEAR AS MUD are a group of multi-media artists

The players are:

Edward de Benbo Obnitawish Hathaway

The son of a wealthy lion breeder in creepiest Berkshire.

Unknowingly confused and often chosen, he has exacted a measure of it upon his most available comrades, in uttering the most libidinous slinky sidetalk that can be tolerated.
He has achieved many glittering ponies of excitement, often in occlusion with the predetermined group aforementioned, but never winking at misfortunes bad luck, or hacking at the pedastal of happenstance. In clearer terminology, he shares an uncanny trough of murky delights with the piglets of celestial truth, all catered for by a large tank of impenetrable butter.

Count Daniel Von Goethe-Frieberg-Chorley Or Ailee (O'Reilly)

He hasoften moulded the signifiers of truth into an angry bear of opinion.

Living on the edge of a spasm, clambouring the small hillocks of tripidacious inferences, he glides his word tongue over many delicious forebears, releasing a tantilising nuance of historical flair, pierced into the pillar of maintenance free robustness. He is like an anachranistic espresso, giving a pep to your dead great granfather now. He can curve the souls of any who reach him with their papers confused for leaves. Successful in many sizes.

Nicholas Middle Tongue (Middleton)

He has longed for carpet divided by the skulls of manipulative frogs.

With each delineating a seperate ratified domain in which a new set of physical realities exist. A bus in many time zones, a little scream at the bottom of a big cup, each with large hairy arms in evidence, can be necessary when reaching his side. Guacheamole, acrylithon, fur sticks and curtain fences all make flirtatious expressions when tickled by his permanence, indeed the vast apothecary of material nature is the plaything of this dreadnaught of the tangled bush. Each is divine in deference to his plated crisp.

David Eldricarb the Devine Buttock (Bracegirdle)

He has spindled a wet necklace of moth like confusion.

When supplanted by a large pile of goose fat. In the beginning there was a knight who cut jowls free of horse, and led a cruel pinch of men into a dozen fortresses of hirsuite divorce, but with tiled throbs, each made a greased handkerchief last a month in full tremors. His legend is much poked, and could be the processed reclamations of the passed foul or mortified swine, but too often the dagger of necessity hits the sack of compass directions and a new degree of repulsion is explored.

Marianna Jellostung Or Ailee (O'Reilly)

No relation, but pure lick has knibbled the dark belt of mis-placed indifference.

She is created a striding colossus of loose curved snakish fizz. A rap-scallion in melted shoes, in the contained world of the prominent fig, she divines the notional bigamy of upturned fruit, and plunges her glue free nose into the pipe structure that leads to the ever glowing circles that never tap your shoulder, but always dribble in tune.

 

 

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