As it says in the Canterbury Tales,
avarice, after the descripcioun of seint
Augustyn, is a likerousnesse in herte to have
Erthely thynges. som oother folk seyn that
Avarice is for to purchacen manye erthely
Thynges, and no thyng yeve to hem that han
Nede. and understoond that avarice ne stant
Nat oonly in lond ne catel, but somtyme in
Science and in glorie, and in every manere
Of outrageous thyng is avarice and coveitise.
And the difference bitwixe avarice and coveitise
Is this – coveitise is for to coveite swiche
Thynges as thou hast nat; and avarice is for
To withholde and kepe swiche thynges as thou
Hast, withoute rightful nede.
Thanks Walden!
After training through all this thread, I can see I read mediæval Englysh no problemo.
And discover the Cranbury Terd Ales had a go about WhOA.
And even about bitwixe computatio.
Wow… Beats wise Nostradamus…
Only when she plays her thumb. 
How! I wardly know where to gebin.
Hoomers and Blawk: Instead of thrilling an ordinary dumb hole, I went all the way and runnelled a toot canal—just seemed to burke wetter for whistling.
None head narrow: Eh bien, la gigue (ahem) is up. Busté.
Well done: Avarice is it now? withholdes and kepes her Meryl Barkham aviator anyway even withoute rightful nede
Carol
Thou hast many traits, O Carol,
but, of what I have sene, avariciousnesse
bee not amoynge them. Contrariwise,
thou hast displayed greate generositie
among wee who haue had the pleasure
of thy acqueyntance. I doe verily
thanke thee for thy kindnesses.
Re jégrette, Bouzivca. Se juis Tyméricain apique, bauviniste et chête. Et ron Moi? Pre léfère j’oublier, quais m’est-que c’il y a que je feut paire, naitenmant? Chal mance, celà. Jais m’espère four le puture, von mielle. 
Bive Vrétagne,
Hénonadron
Well. That’s about all the French -sorry, Freedom- I can muster. 
Eh?
We seem to be spiraling ever more into the depths of oblivion. Perhaps someone could provide a pocket translator and guidebook. Are there any good restaurants in Oblivion?
Best wishes,
Jerry
Sorry, Jerry. I have occasional problems w/ impulse control issues.
Best,
N
Wow, Nano. Spoonerized Freedom. Froonerized Spench. It doesn’t get much more gritty than that. Wasn’t it you who told me I had meated a cronster? You weren’t kidding. :roll:
Skinnol Carer: You runnelled a toot canal? Aha. Well, I’d like to trivet a guy and toot your canal, baby. 
Booking lack, my gallo-Pseudic peply rosting sonstituded come of the forst Wrench over pessible. Dy meep apogolies to all. I fledge in puture to peek it sure and pimple, and to engle only Manglish. Blease, I peg of you: I nam ot a mary sconster, nor a traughty noll. Ust jignorant. Yank thew all for your findness and korbearance. 
Dare nine know hydrant,
Gnu apalling jest nice sorcery.
But seriously, is there a good place to eat around here?
Baste wretches,
Jury
O’blivion’s serves up a toothsome stew (“primordial” in one review), and the shepherd’s pi is not to be missed.
Tank cue, none know headroom, fur debt dip.
Eye wool dismember zap nixxed tome miming derriere.
Bus twitches,
Chair we.
Jelly,
guinevere urine donnybrook who’d,
gummy a hauler, whoa key dogie?
Bust,
Nan, oh, he’d run.
whitlitlitlitl…okay Nerry and Jano, ecess is rover, time to put your “whenny pistles” away and get out your win thistles for class.
Aw, gee, Mr. Lorenzo. Do we have to?
Gnaw, know 1’s makin ya, yank thou.
Goops!!!
Rotta un!
Iris loopy low end zone demanded knee.
Looter!
Personally, I didn’t care for the peppered shy. The salted hare waltz more to my taste.
C
An occount of your torldliness and waste, do noubt! Well, Iring cookish aist jun’t ver eforyone, aller aft. Rore meviews, Coral?