"You must be tired, she finally said.
When we entered the Veritorium I was surprised at how big it really was; the electronic replacement eyes that had been fitted. They were gold - The planet-busting hit group called . . .
... an interesting green color. The soldiers crowded close, hanging on
for the public good, it should not be forgotten that I worked for many.
The golden ball, yes. That represents innocence, the pleasures of
fired watch turret. At you - but do not yourselves anger! I aimed to.
Out there where nothing moved."
Monday, January 08, 2007
Spam Poetry
I thought that this bit of spam was hilarious so I formated it into a poem, cleaned up some of the english, and removed some lines...
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