Hare of the dog that barked at me
Byting at the bark of the logic tree
The nybbled octet leaves a thirst
And half the bits he had at first.
The dog that bytes a rabbit's foot
May grow to rue the foot he bit
No lucky logic keeps the hare
From growing in the easy chair.
The rabid need for parity
Discourages prosperity
A packet sent should be ignored
No matter where the bits are stored.
Posts
Restoring the Lost Sense
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Here's today's *Hamlet* performed by snowmen. From *Krasnyi Smekh*, 1906.
16 hours ago
Bryllyg and not at all slythy!
ReplyDeleteThe nybbled octet was clearly under a hex.
Now you've got me thinking about the legendary gyre tove, and how many it would take to make a team. Baseball, not horses. Base 16 baseball. Oh no.
ReplyDelete