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Today's poems[11.17.03]

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               An innocent boy in Lapland 
               Was told that friggin' was grand. 
                    But at his first trial 
                    He said with a smile, 
               "I've had the same feeling by hand." 

1.   Vote:    Category: Foreign Send this poem to a friend




Computer Eleanor Rigby
-------------
Eleanor Rigby
Sits at the keyboard
And waits for a line on the screen
Lives in a dream
Waits for a signal
Finding some code
That will make the machine do some more.
What is it for?

All the lonely users, where do they all come from?
All the lonely users, why does it take so long?

Guru MacKenzie
Typing the lines of a program that no one will run;
Isn't it fun?
Look at him working,
Munching some chips as he waits for the code to compile;
It takes a while...

All the lonely users, where do they all come from?
All the lonely users, why does it take so long?

Eleanor Rigby
Crashes the system and loses 6 hours of work;
Feels like a jerk.
Guru MacKenzie
Wiping the crumbs off the keys as he types in the code;
Nothing will load.

All the lonely users, where do they all come from?
All the lonely users, why does it take so long?
=================================================

2.   Vote:    Category: Songs Send this poem to a friend




                    There was a young lady of Gloucester
                            
                    Whose friends they thought they had lost her,
                            Till they found on the grass
                            The marks of her ass,
                            
                    And the knees of the man who had crossed her.
                            


3.   Vote:    Category: Send this poem to a friend





An agreeable girl named Miss Doves
Likes to jack off the young men she loves.
She will use her bare fist
If the fellows insist
But she really prefers to wear gloves.

4.   Vote:    Category: Sex Send this poem to a friend




                    There was a young lady of Gloucester
                            
                    Whose friends they thought they had lost her,
                            Till they found on the grass
                            The marks of her ass,
                            
                    And the knees of the man who had crossed her.
                            


5.   Vote:    Category: Send this poem to a friend



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