poems for if you're rilly rilly bored...

El_Presidente

Snaps all round man

Excelsior

An epic Nordic Poem in 600 parts by the great Barry O'Connor, and Loki, Nordic god of fire and mischief. Thor's best buddy, who now, in part 137 is trapped beneath the clean room floor in an IBM factory.... read on only those who are bored and/or wierdy. No need to flame, unless you are Phil or Andy...

Spindlegrin 137

Poems about RTAs (robotic transfer arm) can be
detrimental to your health.  Please consult a trained
ox stuffer before reading.

Leaf, grief,
Boron thief,
A dwelling which upon is brief.

Of a glass platter,
That is much fatter,
Than a Pluto disk, no matter,

Unless you are an RTA,
Then I must say "GO AWAY"
Lest it tries to waste my day

For, rotating transfer arms,
Without proximity alarms
Tend to do a lot of harm,

To my brain, when I teach them,
Instructions, (to the arms) I screech them
But half the time I just can't reach em'

but when they line up with the spud,
in the first place, a thing they should.
I sigh a breath of relief,
'cause from my suit I'll be released.

The toe jam Genie shrugged his pseudo shoulders, and
turned his back to the writing carved on the trunk of
the faulty logic fruit tree.  He then sat down as best
he could, but being comprised primarily of vapor that
smelled like old cats from the waist down, this was a
physical impossibility.

"So you don't know how to get out of here either?"
Loki asked,
"Haven't a clue mate." replied the genie cheerfully.

Loki was trying to shave with the aid of a Telesto
disk that had been snapped in half.  One piece being
used as a mirror and the other as a razor.  Loki was
reduced to this since when he asked the Genie for a
Bic disposable razor, the genie proceeded to conjure a
large crab like creature called Neville who claimed
that he couldn’t actually speak English, no matter
what anyone else had told them.  This was lost on Loki
who wasn’t expecting the crab to say anything
intelligible.  When the crab made a hissing/clicking
sound Loki dropped him for fear of imminent attack.
The crab made his own way home.

As a result of trying to shave with a Telesto disk
Loki was loosing quite an amount of Blood.  When asked
for a plaster the genie produced five dead cats, five
long dead cats.  They were hardly recognisable as cats
at all.

The next episode will arrive when the man with the
drill does.

Most bits(C)Loki 2000. Extra bits (C)BO'C 2000

If would like to stop receiving the Spindlegrin saga
mail me.  Feel free to pass the saga on as long as it
is not altered in any way.  You are not allowed to
sell the saga in any shape or form.  You have been
warned.  I will release the High Price Lawyers.  I
would like to see this saga passed to the ends of the
earth, so feel free.

Addendum

How the crab actually got home would have been of
great interest to Loki.  However, it is a saga which
must wait until another telling for it is long and
tedious.  Suffice it to say that it involved long
periods of waiting and no singing mints to divulge the
hidden secrets of the nether-universe.  In fact, the
saga of Neville the conjured crab remains to be
translated from the original language of the Insane
Master Poets of Grangegorman, but nobody is going to
do this as outsiders think it’s all nonsense anyway.
In addition to this fact, the English language is
currently unable to bear the burden of the
translation.  For example, in the third book of
Neville, each of the 50 stanzas concerning "The 7th
Great Wait of Neville" contains a new word.  Each of
these words carries the meaning "wait", yet conveying
a more subtle under-meaning of waiting so that each
stanza has it’s own sub-theme.  Indeed, only somebody
who is really bored would attempt the translation.

---

It is so lonely here in my indecipherable tower of speech impedimency