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Cried a great English writer, "Oh, Shaw!
My testes are small as the Dickens."
Said his surgeon, "Great Scott!
Here's a fine pair-o'-Keats';
I'll transplant them and make your Balsworthy."
My computer crawls out every night
On the Web with a grim appetite.
It will search by the hour
For bits to devour,
Then gobbles two cubed in each byte.
--
John Cowan <jcowan@reutershealth.com> http://www.reutershealth.com
I amar prestar aen, han mathon ne nen, http://www.ccil.org/~cowan
han mathon ne chae, a han noston ne 'wilith. --Galadriel, _LOTR:FOTR_
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