Alright, well, I’m in a weird mood, watched The Grinch last night, and just read the Lorax. That said, I’ve decided that even pointless little events in life sound better when they’ve been put through the Seussification Process. I’ll start, then everybody else can give it a shot:
A thread I started!
What an interesting thing!
A fantabulous, wabulous, zabuolous fling!
I typed it right up,
From inside my home,
On my super-bo-duper computer-ma-phone!
So make up a rhyme, declare it out loud,
Play it on a zooble, a blat, or har-bloud,
For it’s sure to sound silly however it’s played,
As soon as into this thread it is layed.
Give it a shot,
It’s a funtabulous zood,
But it sure helps to be
In a wubbulous mood!
I will not post here, Jester dear.
I will not post here in a year.
I will not post here after beer.
I will not post here if you ask.
I will not post here as a task.
I will not post here, Jester dear.
I will not post here, do you hear?
I care not what you do, I care not who you know
I will not post here, so I should go.
I will not post here Frog I am.
I will not post here. . . oops. Oh, damn!
Here as I sit, reading this thread,
A throbbing pain works into my head,
For try as I might, to make such a pun,
I’m lousy at rhyming, and this ain’t no fun.
It’s been too many years since I read Dr. Seuss
I’ve had too many beers, don’t call me a wuss!
To Seuss-ify posts takes such a gift,
So I’m bumping this thread, just to give it a lift.
I could not would not resist this thread
I could not would not not if If I were dead
I could not pass it cant you see
I could not help myself pull free
I like to rhyme
I like to be silly
So now is my time
To give you the skinny
I just might talk like this all day
Annoying my friends and causing a fray
Pissing of clerks and my boss Bill
As folks get ever so ready to kill
But it’s not my fault loudly I’ll cry
It was all the faught of this other guy
Who caused these rhymes in my head to fester
Yes that’s right I’ll blame Jester
To post like Dr. Seuss could write,
would almost take me all a night
to rhyme together different words
the final post would be absurd!
I will not post it, Manny-I-am,
I will not post bad puns and spam,
I will not post them from a train,
nor from a bus, I’ll make it plain
I will not post them from a tree,
nor with Libertarian or DavidB,
On Cynicals box, nor Silo’s scrote,
Old Scratch’s hair, or Coldy’s goat!
bad puns and spam, let me make it clear,
I will not post them, do you hear?
Every doper in Dope-ville like posting alot
but the lurkers that watched from outside did not.
The lurkers hated posting, there was no rhyme or reason.
Please don’t ask me why, but to them it was like treason.
It could be their hands aren’t screwed on just right.
It could be they’re scared and don’t post from fright.
But I think the most likely reason of all
May be that their hard drives are two sizes too small!
(part two)
For whatever reason the lurkers don’t post,
It’s the witty responses that they’ll miss the most.
From lurkers to posters must be their goals,
Because Dope-ville sure has enough friggen trolls.
So lurkers start posting, and don’t have a fit,
Just type in some words and then hit “submit”.
After they post what they have to say,
Then lurkers are welcomed in Dope-ville to stay.
One lurker, alone, found his way to this thread,
And he stopped, and he puzzled, way up in his head,
Something had happened, way deep down inside,
And suddenly, he didn’t really want to just hide.
He was given a thought, that raced through his brain,
He wanted to post, not run away in shame.
“Because,” he thought, “Maybe posting isn’t a bore,
Maybe posting,” he thought, "Is a little bit more.
Then he posted, and posted, and posted with glee,
He posted bout boxes, and blazzles, and snees,
He posted more posts than were ever imagined,
And in the eyes of the Dopers, he became a legend.
So, lukers out there, please post if you will,
You might gain recognition, and some free time you can kill.
Will we do it in a house, will we do it with a mouse
will we do it in a bed, will she even give me head
will we do it on the street, will we do it nice and neat
Will we do it many times, will we do it making rhymes
Will we do it all alone, will we do it on the phone
Will we do it with some ice, will we do it if it’s nice
Will we do it with tic tacs, will we do it back to back
Will we do it all the day, will we do it every way
Will we do it till we’re sore, will we do it forever more
The board did not load.
It was too slow to fight.
So we sat in the chatroom
All that slow, slow, boring night.
I sat there with Mortwight.
We sat there, we two.
And I said, “How I wish
We had something to do!”
Too late to go out
and too lagged to play trivia.So we sat in the chatroom.
We did nothing at all.
So, all we could do was to
Sit!
Sit!
Sit!
Sit!
And we did not like it.
Not one little bit.
I sat in the chat room, talking with all,
this thread came to issue, to Odie’s appall.
I read it and laughed, I busted a gut,
all I could think was, “Odie’s a nut!”
He blushed a deep red, as crimson as rose,
from the tops of his eyes straight down to his toes.
He tried to escape, he tried to evade,
the pointy wrath of his post’s subject’s blade.
In the end he was caught, much to his chagrin,
he should have known better that he could not win!
