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Tuesday, May 27, 2003

Ok, some of you may know the sordid details of this, but some may not. Simply, instead of a kayak or a camera, I'm getting a practical, boring mattress for my birthday, from my parents. My old mattress is OLD. It's gone through 3 members of my family, but now it's time to respectively retire it.

Also, I am by NO MEANS a poet. I just have too much time on my hands.

Ode to a bed

Squishy underneath my skin
Can't believe the state you're in
Many nights I've slept on you
Even when I had the flu.

A hiding place for toys and drugs
And sometimes a disgusting bug.
Your springs are worn with eager use,
Never had a guy named Bruce.

No bleach can wash away your stains
Your tiny squeaks expose your pains
But now youre off to mattress heaven
And now this new bed I must christen.


Any volunteers?




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