“…it made absolutely no difference to him
whether it was the adventures of some
amorous hero, a simple primer, or a
prayer book–he read everything with
equal attention; if they slipped him
chemistry, he would not refuse that either.
He liked not so much what he was
reading about as the reading itself, or,
better, the process of reading, the fact that
letters are eternally forming some word,
which sometimes even means the devil
–From Dead Souls by Nikolai Gogol.
There once was a blah
Who was looking for blah,
But where does a blah
In blah did blah seek
By blah to Blah Peak,
A climb that blah blah
And, there did blah find
A blah to ask blah,
For blah blah could blah
“If a blah would blah
In a forested blah,
And no one blah blah blah
Then would it blah?”
Thus, the blah heard blah
Exclaiming with blah,
“Well, that is just blah
Blah blah blah!”
Yes, a blah will not blah
When a blah is so blah,
Ergo blah should always
Copyright 2008 by Michael Marsters.
All rights reserved.
The moral of the story: Blah.