From: cujo@petitmorte.net   
      
   Rudy Canoza  wrote in news:18902c09a80ffe03   
   $80390$1192958$70dd7a6b@news.thecubenet.com:   
      
   > NancyGene wrote:   
   >>> Rudy Canoza wrote:   
   >>> Will-Dockery wrote:   
   >>>   
   >>>> HarryLime wrote:   
   >>>>   
   >>>> Will-Dockery wrote:   
   >>>> To the Sea Angel   
   >>>>   
   >>>> Riptide waves,   
   >>>> there goes the sea angel,   
   >>>> right above the waves.   
   >>>>   
   >>>> These mystery years,   
   >>>> where would I be without them?   
   >>>> What if I'd stayed happy?   
   >>>>   
   >>>> Years lost,   
   >>>> these last few I've played catch up,   
   >>>> drifting from the shore.   
   >>>>   
   >>>> Barnacles on an olive shell,   
   >>>> brain choral in my mind.   
   >>>>   
   >>>> Instrumental tune,   
   >>>> made by the incoming waves.   
   >>>>   
   >>>> I tossed a starfish back in,   
   >>>> watched it twirl away,   
   >>>> and thought of you.   
   >>>>   
   >>>> -Will Dockery (1997)   
   >>>>   
   >>>>   
   >>>>   
   >>>> Is that photo of you and   
   >>>>   
   >>>>   
   >>>>   
   >>>> That's me with the one and only P.D. Wilson in Summer of 1977.   
   >>>>   
   >>>>   
   >>>>   
   >>>   
   >>> Was that before Wilson wanted to kill you, Donkey?   
   >>   
   >>   
   >>   
   >> Will Donkey had boinked both of the Horny Sisters, and Wilson felt   
   >> cuckolded.   
   >>   
   >>   
   > Yikes, that doesn't say much for the sisters if   
   > they'd bang Will donkey.   
      
   What if they had blindfolds, were roofied and were trapped on Douchebag   
   Island?   
      
   Would that change your answer?   
      
   Discuss.   
      
      
   --   
   "The fact that it doesn't apply to the poem is of little consequence to   
   you, because your poems don't have a literary basis, because you're   
   functionally illiterate and haven't got a clue as to what a poem is." -   
   Little Willie Douchebag gets another asskicking from Pendragon   
      
   --- SoupGate-Win32 v1.05   
    * Origin: you cannot sedate... all the things you hate (1:229/2)