Gratitude for medical advances, poems about biopsies--are you trying to tell us something, Ogged?
The hope is not before the great Unfogged meatosphere meetup.
And not at the Unfogged meatosphere meetup.
The meatup could bring the whole world to an untimely end, if ogged and Labs let their beams cross.
We're all going to die, ac.
As my young Sylvia put it, while watching Paul sing "I know this love of mine/ will never die/ and i love her" -- "Sometime you'll die!"
SB, I appreciate a Ghostbusters reference, even if the hoi polloi don't.
Here's a little swimmer's poem for you, Ogged. Non-death-related (I think).
Full of calm
And light as a wish,
Come to no harm,
Dream of green fish.
Well, it does make me want to kill myself, does that count? Pantoums intended for children are outlawed under the Geneva Conventions.
Thanks, *Tim. You're banned.
I prefer the phrase "pleasureful rump" myself.
A bit like sleep
It calls to you.
Lovely and deep,
A box so blue.
Yeah, I'd say it's not death related.
You don't like it, Ogged? Verily, you suck.
Not as much as I don't like They Might Be Giants, Matt.