Wow, this is lame, both of you ain’t got game, get out of this here place, 'cause my rhymes kick your rhymes face!
WORD!
You’ve got an advantage;
Your kid brought you far
You’ve all of the Seuss books on
My PDA in a bar.
But Seuss is a piker
(tho admittedly fun).
In terms of a challenge,
He’s like a bad pun.
Just wait for tomorrow,
Or Thursday at latest.
I’ll prove my true mettle–
That I am the greatest.
For I’ve an idea
That’ll beat by a mile
A mod-centric rant
In Olde English style.
BRAVO! 
There once was a man in Nantucket . . .
Oh never mind.
In the Pit Manny I think we got something to say so you
It’s early morning and we really should be doing our jobs
The Dope keeps us amused But I feel we’re all being abused
Oh Manny I just don’t think we can take any more
You lure us away from work, commanding us not to be a Jerk
You stole our minds and that’s what really hurts
The Chicago Reader if you read it really tells the news
But we read Cecil’s column and it totally took away our blues
We laughed at some of your jokes Our loyalty you didn’t need to coax
Oh, Manny We just can’t survive any more
You lure us away from work, reminding us not to be a Jerk
You stole our minds and that’s what really hurts
All we needed was a board to lend us a guiding hand
But you turned us into Dopers and
Manny what a tyranny, You drove us mad
All you did was wreck our brains
And leave us gibbering in the drains
Oh, Manny We just can’t survive any more
You lure us away from work, teaching us not to be a Jerk
You broke our minds and that’s what really hurts
I’ve read through this thread
And found it quite nice
But now in my head
I can do nothing but ryhme
I’ve read two more threads
And found them to be wanting
becuase in my head
THEY DON"T RHYME!
(really, I’me having a hard time reading other threads now because I keep trying to find the rhythym and rhyme) :rolleyes:
The wonderful thing about Seuss
Is that his rhyming’s quite loose
No matter how absurd
Just make up a word
And hitch it up like a caboose.
I dragged this up from an older thread:
CECIL FEVER
I must down to the boards again, to the message boards and the guys,
And all I ask is a smart-ass post and a cruel wit that is sly,
And the trolls kick’d and the Mods’ good grace and Cecil’s jokes a making,
And a merry tale of TV shows and what’s better: clutch or braking.
I must go down to the boards again, where General Questions lie,
And in Great Debates, the tempers flare and opinions truly fly;
And the words get hot and the insults grow over thoughts of wrong and right;
And the loudmouth schmucks get shot to bits when they cannot give a cite.
I must down to Café town where the Spider-Man thoughts are thick;
And the typos fly and talk is cheap and wise guys act real slick;
They pine for Wilma Flintstone and Betty, Barney’s wife;
And some of us sigh and rolls our eyes and say: “Hey, get a life!”
The Humble Opinions aren’t so humble as the posters fight for space;
And the polls ask dumbass questions, like “what’s your favourite race?”;
But it’s in the Pit where my blood runs hot and I dare to try my luck;
Because it’s good to laugh at the mixed-up dopes and their obligatory “fucks”.
I must down to the boards again, to the vagrant poster’s life,
And all I ask is a smart-ass joke dissing some guy’s wife.
- Bryan Ekers, with apologies to John Masefield.
::sua waits eagerly, wearing his sackcloth and eating his mutton::
It’s apparently his birthday today. Cut him some slack. You know how the mind is the second thing to go.
A message board mod, name of Manny,
Had cognizance that was uncanny.
…Whenever some guy,
…Went slightly awry,
Mod Manny would ban the man’s fanny.
The needs of the many,
Said Spock, Sarek’s son,
Outweigh those of few
Or even just one.
My job pays many dollars-
this board pays me none
and I’ve not found ways
yet to pay bills in “fun.”
So my poem must wait,
that son of a gun,
'Sides, Chaucer does translate
by ounces, not tons.
Oooh, you’re gonna do The Threadcloser’s Tale?
Writen and sayd in simple speche, Middle Inglysch, I pray, as Chaucer writ?
This oughta be good.
::hands Sua a draughte of ale::
Given the silliness of this thread, I would think that senility (not to mention the alcohol I’m sure manny consumed yesterday) would actually make it easier to compose an appropriate poem.
Happy belated birthday, Manny.
Sua
[hijack]
There come times of disappointment in ones life. These can be crushing, such as learning that you will:
[ul]
[li]Never be a major league ball player, becasue you are a klutz[/li][li]Never be a Hollywood heart throb, because you look more like a troll, than a star[/li][li]Never be a professional race car driver, as you just don’t have the necessary skill set.[/li][li]Never date a super model, because of #2 above and the fact that you don’t have $50M in the bank[/li][/ul]
To that list I must now add one more. I fear that I will never be a mod here at the SDMB for the simple fact that I can’t ryme more that three words on a good day, and I sure as hell can’t do Seuss or Chaucer 
Manny I bow to your greatness.
[/Hijack]
I see Fenris and Scylla and Manhatten too!
This thread has turned into the rhyming zoo.
While my scansion is weak
and my rhyming half done…
It’s my simple hope
that it’s still all in good fun.
Seussian rhymes, I’ve often found scrumpcious
as tasty as roasted rump roast of glumguncious.
Or maybe poached eggs of the rare Floo Floo bird
Despite how it’s name is something quite absurd.
For though there is much of the Seuss in this rhyme
One thing you’ve all lacked that Seuss did all the time.
Made up words and animals peppered all of his books.
You’ll all just fakers, with your (still pretty neat) Seuss-y hooks!
He claims tool,
yet he won’t look in a mirror.
We know his sperm count,
which doesn’t make him dearer.
His fear of Walmarts has been proclaimed,
his erectile issues are made plain.
Still he doesn’t see that he’s a dick,
for all his bluster he’s quite thick.
:applause:
The threadspotting feature for at least a few days,
this thread has amused me with its Suessian plays.
But something about it I find quite mysterious,
Not an update in weeks, isn’t anyone curious?
Often a thread, tho’ seeming deceased,
Is revived when threadspotted, its traffic increased.
It runs its full course, its end is quite plain
Yet posting continues (and gets quite inane).
But this thread is different, it was left unresolved
And the suspense has compelled me to now get involved
We were promised a poem “In Olde English style”
That would transcend Dr. Suess (and it’s been quite a while).
Could it have possibly been elsewhere revealed?
I mean three days on TS and no one’s appealed.
So Manny I ask, did you ever complete it?
Could it have been posted and subsequently deleted?
I assume that by now the inspiration has faded
and this plea for your poem indeed quite belated
Of course as a student being late’s what I do
And so a very belated Happy Birthday to you.
This is a thread that irks,
A girl who lurks,
'Cause she misses the fun,
And then comes undone.
So this effort in verse,
Untried, unrehearsed,
Is a personal mission,
To partake in SDMB tradition.
Prose is anathema (which has no rhyme)
To those who prefer verse and rhythm sublime.
I am not Dr Seuss, nor Fenris nor Scylla,
I offer no blimps, no insight, just end-of-line filler.
A poor little lurker is all that I am,
And I do not like green eggs and ham.