Most Gnomish Sentence At This Moment In Time

Okay, brace yourselves: I'm about to attempt to write the most Gnomish sentence in human history. It's an act of rebellion, if you will, against the Gnomish agenda.

I don't know what kind of fuddy-duddy bugaboo you think I am, spouting gobbledygook and claptrap as I dillydally about doohickies and gewgaws and flibbertigibbets and doodads, but before you think there's any hanky-panky here giving you the heebie-jeebies, I'd have you know that there's no rinky-dink hocus pocus or flim-flam here. Rather than being some hoity-toity hugger-mugger out to razzle-dazzle you with some humdrum, higgledy-piggledy, topsy-turvy whatchamacallit, I'd also have you know that everything's hunky-dory as I lollygag about with my itsy-bitsy hurdy-gurdy, a knickknack thingamajig I hornswoggled from some roly-poly riffraff willy-nilly, while he was shilly-shallying about the place, looking for this mumbo jumbo thingamajig he'd lost pell-mell. Well, I tell you, there was some hurly-burly as I got out of there in my itty-bitty, razzmatazz jalopy, before helter-skelter came down upon my pointy hat.

And there you have it. It's best said with an accent, whether Cockney or Southern, and, ideally, is said while you're sitting on a mushroom, but it captures the irreducible essence of Gnomethink.