shel_silverstein lulie I went to find the pot of gold That's waiting where the rainbow ends. I searched and searched and searched and searched And searched and searched, and then - There it was, deep in the grass, Under an old and twisty bough. It's mine, it's mine, it's mine at last... What do I search for now? 020317 ... silentbob i wanna get my picture on the cover of the rolling stone 020317 ... hahaha Oh, the bulbous Brole is a beast with a soul and a manner serene and sedate a model of meekness with only one weakness -a fondness for eating his mate hi-ho, a fondness for eating his mate Now the white-breasted Murd is a delicate bird with a song so sweetly sung with a coo and a sigh and a gleam in her eye and the habit of eating her young -heigh-ho a habit of eating her young The gross bottomed grood he takes milk for his food and goopies and bran for his tummy and a filial hunger that makes itself known by eating his daddy and mummy yes eating his daddy and mummy Oh were you here for the wedding my dear and the quiet buffet that ensued When the bulbus brole wed the murd i am told and spawned a young gross-bottomed grood 020318 ... raze said the little boy, "sometimes i drop my spoon." said the old man, "i do that too." the little boy whispered, "i wet my pants." "i do that too," laughed the little old man. said the little boy, "i often cry." the old man nodded, "so do i." "but worst of all," said the boy, "it seems grownups don't pay attention to me." and he felt the warmth of a wrinkled old hand. "i know what you mean," said the little old man. 230712 what's it to you? who go blather from