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Post by parttimepoet on Oct 31, 2009 21:00:09 GMT -5
Down across the mire, lived the Meaty Bigatoo, In his fiddly waddy kipple, on the Doddle by the Skew. Oh the mighty Skew was thundering down the Niddler, in a rush, Breaking fiddly waddy kipples, Turning Doddles near to mush! Well the Meaty Bigatoo, put the spoodle into action - and he wound the Mardy Toodle - got a snig on said contraption. Just as Skew came shlapping, Mardy Toodle got to work, old Niddler stippled kipples, and the Toodle tipped the querk! Meaty Bigatoo was happy - and the Skew was ribbled raw, but the fiddly waddy kipple, and said spoodle are no more!
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Post by Dr Fogg on Nov 1, 2009 6:46:59 GMT -5
The day there is no room for nonsense will be a sad day for mankind. Spike Milligan would have loved this.
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Post by carousal on Nov 9, 2009 5:34:44 GMT -5
Well it certainly makes more sense than some of the post modernist poetry I’ve struggled through and the kids will love it.
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