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# i'm beginning to suspect
(though it's purely hypothetical)
that you're posting on the board
in a manner most poetical
(, Tue 12 Nov 2002, 0:10, archived)
# i didn't think it would take long
to find another with a song
inside them waiting to escape
so now it's out there lets create
(, Tue 12 Nov 2002, 0:14, archived)
# there's a limit to a turn
it's 360(three-sixty) degrees
unless you've got a hinge joint
like your elbows and knees
(, Tue 12 Nov 2002, 0:21, archived)
# transatlantic shirt stains
are often hard to shift.
So always take a change,
you can swap them in the lift.
(, Tue 12 Nov 2002, 0:26, archived)
# hotdogs come in cans of ten
of that there is no doubt
but bread rolls come in packs of eight
so what's that all about?
(, Tue 12 Nov 2002, 0:34, archived)
# fnord is mr B3ta
he has a mushed up brain
he has a friend called peter
and comes to london on the train

oh dear - it's late
(, Tue 12 Nov 2002, 0:35, archived)
# you speak the truth
it's late indeed
but i'll stay up
til my eyes bleed
no wind nor rain
will make me stop
for i am powered
by lollipops
maybe i should
just go to bed
my limbs are heavy
my eyes are red

it's worth the slog
to see pics from zog
(, Tue 12 Nov 2002, 0:41, archived)
# the man came from germany
via charing cross.
And somehow stayed awake for a week on pro-plus
He's seen things and done things and taken things back
and left things and made things and managed to pack,
the expierience of a month into such a short time.
That he's now scorung photos to see if a line
can be drawn that makes sense of the whole strange mess.
And maybe he'll see the real answer is 'Yes!'
(, Tue 12 Nov 2002, 0:47, archived)
# probably not
time moves in rings
like an onion snake
eating twirly things
for me, the answer
will have to wait
as it's very early
yet far too late

in case you didn't hear me right,
i'm going off to bed, goodnight!

(, Tue 12 Nov 2002, 0:51, archived)
# -
yesterday was the first day of the rest of my past.
Start each finale as if it may be your last.
Beauty is only skin deep, your innards look gross.
advice from a trusted source is sketchy at most.
(, Tue 12 Nov 2002, 0:59, archived)
# the horns play on
the lights flash fast
and all of a sudden
there's whispers and - GASP!
Onto the stage, for one last time
the old master's back with his wonderful rhyme.
Everyone's heard it but they never tire
of being told by the teller about that fire.
The one that burns throughout the tale
until it's snuffed out by the approaching gale.
It's a bad bad story of three and five
that age when youth stops and 'old' arrives.
The future's uncertain, but so was the past.
So you may as well live each day like the last.
Carry on shining bright like the light.
Until a windy pop snuffs it all out one night.
(, Tue 12 Nov 2002, 0:37, archived)
# I don't mean to slight or insult by any means
but you both sound like a couple of poncy queens.
(, Tue 12 Nov 2002, 0:43, archived)
# ooh, hark at her!
you'd better run.
this handbag's loaded
and set to stun.
(, Tue 12 Nov 2002, 0:46, archived)
# Of course I was just kidding
I said it full of glee...
something on or near my desk
smells unmistakeably of wee
I swear up my mother's trousers
no way does it come from me!
(, Tue 12 Nov 2002, 1:07, archived)