I think this is the first limer-ick I've..."composed." (Mummf! hee, heedle.) I think it shows.
There once was a group from SI.
Who by pi
all their stocks multiplied.
"If it weren't for these jerkels,
We could straighten this circle"
But instead they just try to get by.
[Oh, woah-man, I'm grossed out, myself. But when you've nothing to do, waiting and waiting to get back that eighth of a point...] Dontcha just love the sort of moralising tone? The faintest hint of condescension? The here, here now chillun? The lack of apology for contributing to mayhem in the first place? The expectation to get away with it? The give it up, no one's gonna change? The I'm better, more flexible, and less reactionary than others? The offensive, rabble-roadkill tone of you guys need to liten up, man? Actually, that's not what it's about. Just kidding. I don't know what it's about except a cheap attempt to be cute. Slobbered with an ick-sticky kiss.
Michael's right, darnit. I'm sending my resume to the White House.
PS: I apologize, with my head down, for mucking up the poetry thread.
Actually, I think it was meant to praise the tolerance and "frankness"(?) that makes SI the kinda totally bitchen place it is. Faxing resume... |
