28.9.2004 kl. 04:39
Tonight, a young man of my acquaintance shared with me a poem of his:

What light from yonder dung doth shine?
'Tis feces, glorious feces that doth usher forth
and fall heavy on the cheeks of sorry youths.
Oh, why hadst thy waste forsaken this Yorkshire sun?

These are wondrous times indeed, when such verbal beauty can be transmitted electronically via an instant messaging protocol.