Wednesday, December 10, 2003

My good friend Colleen sends the best internet trash...what follows is a Christmas poem submitted to a human-computer interaction listserv with a focus on Children's Technologies (?) by one of its members.


Christmas time is mine,
It is all for me,
My sexual is it see,
Cubism did not fine.

I can line when I am hine,
I've got the sign,
It's dine, he died for me,
Not his mother for a fee.

Goodness is there, in stood,
Mankind shall stare and see care,
Gladness gives to me in there,
I can play and get my hood.

I hung it up, regality,
When I made the Mac, I made thee,
I could not slurl, for viscous joy,
In that I had my toy.

Oi, for I so loved the world,
That I sent my Son to furled,
So that anyone who fees

Do they say?  No, I am the way,
I hay, bay bay bay,
Hay, hay, I May live,
Well, I say thrive.

They got it right, his sex and hers,
And assessed the earth for fare's,
I my intensions are with my,
My ram did not die, die, die.

The little dittie was a visual,
Mall did work, son, for all,
I got up and I did bay,
God loves us, me, I love you for the ball.

No, not iball.
Don't lay pray,
For I got god as well
As you.


Dr. Gilbert Cockton

1:56 PM