Sunday, May 02, 2004
An Ode to Ol' Red
Farewell, old friend
I'll never forget the feeling of your pygidium beneath mine
The rush of pulling back on your glabella
And springing forwards, hewing to your schizochroal eyes
I still have that bruise on my knee from when we fought
It was all my fault, anyways
I thought perhaps we could ride up Mt. Yoho together
It was always a fool's dream
But those are the best kind
I'll see you in the Skullrockian
[I realize that the above does not properly constitute an "ode", but it was necessary for titular alliteration and is in keeping with the colloquial understanding of the word.-Ed.]
Farewell, old friend
I'll never forget the feeling of your pygidium beneath mine
The rush of pulling back on your glabella
And springing forwards, hewing to your schizochroal eyes
I still have that bruise on my knee from when we fought
It was all my fault, anyways
I thought perhaps we could ride up Mt. Yoho together
It was always a fool's dream
But those are the best kind
I'll see you in the Skullrockian
[I realize that the above does not properly constitute an "ode", but it was necessary for titular alliteration and is in keeping with the colloquial understanding of the word.-Ed.]
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