May 10, 2005
its funy how u can go alogn for years not givign somhting teh slightast thuoghat an than sudanly u sit bolt upright an relize it rely needs to be adresed. i refar of cuorse to teh fact that wilim butlar yates is whildly overrated. what ware they thinkign whan they took im seriously? jupmin jesus! what asshats. an we still sufer for the chowderheaded jugemant of his comtemperaries to this vary day.
thares only one thats evan halfway wroth redin.
dowm by teh sally garnads my loav an i did sneeze
she blesd teh snailey gradans whit litl snowwhite fleas.
she bid me quit my howalin an swingin form teh trees
but i bein a pompous chowderhead with her wuld not agrea.
in a yada yada my lofe an i did snooze
an then got good an stinko on a quart a snow-white booze.
she bid me take love easy as the drunk fals off teh stool
but i grabed her boob er somethign an i guess that was uncool.
aux barricades, readers! its long past time for teh verdict of histary to bop that punk-ass bum right in the snoot.
might wana take a shot at sean o'casey too. whata loser.
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and your poem made me laugh my ass off!
Yup. He foresaw the coming of the blogger.
And you haven't even got round to mentioning the plays. Three acts of people with names that look like you spelt them,* standing around next to wells and talking about helmets and banshees and then inexplicably dying.