Date:         Fri, 14 Jan 2005 22:29:33 -0800
Reply-To:     Robert Fisher <refisher@MCHSI.COM>
Sender:       Vanagon Mailing List <vanagon@gerry.vanagon.com>
From:         Robert Fisher <refisher@MCHSI.COM>
Subject:      Re: Fw: Speaking of...
Content-Type: text/plain; format=flowed; charset="iso-8859-1";
              reply-type=response

Well I reckon I walked right into that one, eh? : )

Cya,
Robert

----- Original Message -----
From: "Joel Walker" <jwalker17@EARTHLINK.NET>
To: <vanagon@GERRY.VANAGON.COM>
Sent: Friday, January 14, 2005 5:36 PM
Subject: Fw: Speaking of...


>> Friday, er, Fryeday (Frydaye?)- where the heck is everybody? Things
>> have been mighty slow since the clampdown, it seems. That's how it
>> works, y'know... take the villain out of the story it gets boring
>> pretty quick. I'd almost welcome yet another @&#$% refrigerator
>> discussion. Well maybe not. : )
>
> a challenge?! a gauntlet phlapped in my phace??!!!!
>
> well ...
>
>              Friday
>
>  Oh, Fria's day has come at last,
>  The last workday will soon be past,
>  Tomorrow's light will come too soon
>  And wake me fore the crack of Noon.
>
>  Portents of work that must be done
>  Cause wishes for the rain, not sun,
>  Lord knows, the grass could use some rain
>  To grow before I cut again.
>
>  But mostly Fridays mean to me
>  Some silliness, frivolity,
>  Some stupid poem or Trip Report,
>  A silly joke, a quick retort.
>
>  Such things prepare me for the end
>  Of days of Work where I did spend
>  More hours a'sitting 'pon my duff ...
>  Boy, gummint work is really rough! :)
>
> and for those of you still standing ...
>
>    FFFFFriday
> by Unca Joel
>
>  hear i sit, all down-hearted,
>  'tis Friday, and i can't get started.
>  a story, joke, an ode or pome,
>  i need to write, a little tome
>  of wit or wisdom, mirth or glee,
>  but nothing bubbles up from me.
>
>  am i so burned from Fridays past
>  that nothing's left in me at last?
>  no more lame verse to mock our cars?
>  no stupid songs unheard in bars?
>  with wrinkled forehead o'er mine eyes,
>  my tortured mind doth seek the prize.
>
>  a silly song? no, not again.
>  a sonnet, then, from way back when?
>  an ode, perhaps? nah, that's too long;
>  you're better off with silly song.
>  oh, fuddled mind! am i too beat?
>  is nothing left that ain't repeat??
>
>  oh, well, it's not the worldwide end ...
>  i guess, next Friday, try again
>  to see if verse or song is writ
>  continuing this Friday bit
>  of Folly Funnies on the List ...
>  and hope today it won't be missed.
>
> and lastly, but not too loosely,
>
>        Jabber-Jabber List
>              by Screwloose Feral
>
>  'Twas Frydaye, and upon the List
>    Were Minds of fetid thoughts so bent,
>  Toward Topics of the rankest Grist,
>    That admins cringe, but Rules relent.
>
>  "Beware the Jabber-Jabber List!
>    "Of emails flowing without end!
>  "Of Subject: Rust and Heat and Tires,
>    "That like the Seasons come again!"
>
>  He paused his fingers o'er the keys,
>    In thought he lingered, half asleep ...
>  Then slow and painful typed the words
>    As came they bubbling from the deep.
>
>  And from the keyboard, one by one,
>    The clicking noise disturbed the Night,
>  Drove out the Silence of the Lateness,
>    Sounded like a cricket fight.
>
>  Vee, Hay! Enn, Hay! Gee, Oh, Enn!
>    The keyboard groaned beneath his strokes!
>  Til grabbed he mouse and with one click,
>    A message sent to email folkes.
>
>  "And art thou finished yet, My Love?"
>     Said Wife while filing on a nail;
>  "About damned Time! Then go to bed!"
>     But said Computer: You Have Mail.
>
>  'Twas Frydaye, and upon the List
>    Were Minds of fetid thoughts so bent,
>  Toward Topics of the rankest Grist,
>    That admins cringe, but Rules relent.