The Shoutbox
Chris, Matt and Mary,
The former being quite hairy,
write stylish poems many'a time,
though they struggle to make them rhyme.

Ooo, i liked the end. The start was bit shallow tho, and genrally it was overlong. I'm going to call you bronze from now on (why do i love knocking you so? Is it coz i expect beligerent australian-ese to ease from you like melting snow on a still-skiing dead eskimo, whipping back my to-and-fro like a freezing breeze tainted with disease? That must be it I'm off to check-myself into strange-stereotypes-anonymous)
This is not a poem.
The end.

Think about it. It's some deep, deep, deepness.
Ladies and gentlemen, the poetry stylings of a young Yoda...

There once was a team called the Steelers
But they were never actually stealers
They play football
I like football
But I don't like to write limericks.
I wrote a limerick about the Steelers in 5th grade for reading class. Considering I was 10, it didn't completely suck.
There once was a boy from 'Slyvania,
whose words were so sharp they could maim ya',
And every day,
The people'd all say,
He's a MoFo but smart all the same-uh.


ERR...
Yeah.
Happy birthday The Amazing Chrisskins.
I'm trying to write a very special birthday limerick in Yoda-speak, but it's damn difficult.
Don't play with my words, Chris. It's unseemly.
Originally Posted by Mary Loquacious
I claim to be a poet
You were saying?
Hey, it fit. Sort of.

I never claimed to be a poet.
Matt-ucker?