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    ______           __                 
   / ____/___  _____/ /___  ______  ___ 
  / /_  / __ \/ ___/ __/ / / / __ \/ _ \
 / __/ / /_/ / /  / /_/ /_/ / / / /  __/
/_/    \____/_/   \__/\__,_/_/ /_/\___/ 
                                        

	"And what will you do when you grow up to be as big as me?"
asked the father of his little son.
	"Diet."

How do I love thee?  My accumulator overflows.

Here I sit, broken-hearted,
All logged in, but work unstarted.
First net.this and net.that,
And a hot buttered bun for net.fat.

The boss comes by, and I play the game,
Then I turn back to net.flame.
Is there a cure (I need your views),
For someone trapped in net.news?

I need your help, I say 'tween sobs,
'Cause I'll soon be listed in net.jobs.

By doing just a little every day, you can gradually let the task
completely overwhelm you.

This land is made of mountains,
This land is made of mud,
This land has lots of everything,
For me and Elmer Fudd.

This land has lots of trousers,
This land has lots of mousers,
And pussycats to eat them
When the sun goes down.

I/O, I/O,
It's off to disk I go,
A bit or byte to read or write,
I/O, I/O, I/O

Nice boy, but about as sharp as a sack of wet mice.
		-- Foghorn Leghorn

Test-tube babies shouldn't throw stones.

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Tuesday, 4 November 2025   Michael J. Chappell   Contact me at: mcsuper5@freeshell.org