"O shrieve me, shrieve me, holy man!"
The Hermit cross'd his brow.
"Say quick," quoth he, "I bid thee say—
What manner of man art thou?"

Forthwith this frame of mine was wrench'd
With a woful agony,
Which forced me to begin my tale;
And then it left me free.

Tuesday, September 13, 2005

from one site to another...

if ye seek those immortalized in film...
ye must search within this site...
yonder lies the post where three stars gather...
and he who loves himself has been named a condition after...
thou must be patient, due south to blue green...
a single click proceeds you to this land...
where vanity trails within...

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