Over the last few years I've become accustomed to thinking of the World-Wide Web as a sort of magical font of any kind of information one could imagine. In many areas it's close to that, but it still has some holes, and sometimes it's startling to stumble across them. Now, I know that the original blogs were intended as compendia of links: "Look
(
Read more... )
Comments 10
Reply
Reply
Reply
Dear old Grouchytown, along the River Slime
Where mudballs travel
Through the gravel
And grime
Be it ever so humble,
I miss the trash-truck rumble
Of dear old Grouchytown, my home.
Back in Grouchytown, there's muck on every foot
And on our mayor
There's a layer
Of soot
Where the trash is as high
As a screech-monkey's eye
That's dear old Grouchytown, my home
Oh, take a romp
Through the swamp
With mosquitoes buzzing round
Oh, take a slog
Through the bog
On that squishy, fishy ground
What a sound!
Back in Grouchytown, the stinkweed's always ripe
And folks all mumble
And grumble
And gripe
In short, there just is not
A more disgusting spot
Than dear old Grouchytown, my home.
You're welcome.
Reply
Leave a comment