:::raises hand::: although...LIFE isn't a game... and it may have been more like 7 days...dunno... most of the credit there should rightfully goto Shadowdarke, for I would probably still be debugging the blasted thing...heh Thanx for everything, Shadow! :-)
~X
Yeah, I hear all the professional game designers work while standing on their heads... keeps the juices flowing in the right direction...or something...
~X ;-) | |
'tis no trouble to me.
Especially when they needn't rhyme,
Then't can be done more...easily.
But alas, this one does!
'twas not my fault, I try to stop it.
'ever I'd write like this,
That poor lass in my dear ol' school,
Teacher, she'd have a fit.
(And no, I'm not in school.)
Hickery dickery dock,
I never did like Spock.
His weird pointy ears,
Always drove me to tears,
And me the other children would mock.
(Franky, I don't even know if I spelled him right.)
There once was a rabbit,
Who lived with a habbit,
To bonk any nearby frogs.
Whenever he missed, that rabbit,
Why, he'd shout, "Dagnabbit!"
And flatten that frog with a rock.
(That's really gross.)
There once was a cow,
Who lived however how,
He sat in a puddle,
And there he did muddle,
Until he was o'run by the plow.
(Good grief, the things that come out of my head...)
I once lived in a garden,
And there my face did harden,
In the warm sunny rays of light.
'twas of beauty so full,
Yet somehow it, alas, 'twas dull,
As bored as I was, I left a'flight.
I was not gone but far,
The memory my thoughts did mar,
The realization of what I had lost.
I did my dear best,
To return to the blest,
My garden, my home, my rest.
(Thought I'd end with something remotely nice.)