Who am I to refuse help from Vogon poets? In the hopes of my vindication, they have crafted this linguistic gem:
Ode to Blake
See, see the banker sky
Marvel at its big puce depths.
Tell me, Blake, baby do you
Wonder why the heterocephalus glaber ignores you?
Why its foobly stare
makes you feel sore.
I can tell you, it is
Worried by your philanderer facial growth
That looks like
A liter of old milk.
What's more, it knows
Your womanly potting shed
Smells of a $20.
Everything under the big banker sky
Asks why, why do you even bother?
You only charm broken noses.
Yes...well...so there!
You can also enlist the help of your own Vogon poets by going to Nick's site and finding the post about it.
Consider my salvo finished for today. A post on jesusunbeam2 to the effect that I am always right about everything will be sufficient to seal my wrath for the time being.
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1 comment:
Liam, Blake did not convince me to make a blog. Just thought I'd answer your question, it seems as though he isn't going to answer.
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