Owed Too A Spell Chequer

Eye halve a spelling chequer, it came with my pea sea. It plainly marques, four my revue, miss steaks eye kin knot sea.

Eye strike a key and type a word and weight four it two say, Weather eye am wrong oar write it shows me strait a weigh.

As soon as a mist ache is maid, it nose bee fore two long. And eye can put the error rite it's rare lea ever wrong.

Eye have run this poem threw it, I am shore your pleased two no. Its letter perfect awl the weigh, my chequer tolled me sew.

What If Dr. Seuss Wrote Technical Manuals?

If a packet hits a pocket on a socket on a port,

And the bus is interrupted as a very last resort,

And the address of the memory makes your floppy disk abort,

Then the socket packet pocket has an error to report!

If your cursor finds a menu item followed by a dash,

And the double-clicking icons put your window in the trash,

And your data is corrupted 'cause the index doesn't hash,

Then your situation's hopeless, and your system's gonna crash!

If the label on your cable on the gable at your house,

Says the network is connected to the button on your mouse,

But your packets want to tunnel to another protocol,

That's repeatedly rejected by the printer down the hall.

And your screen is all distorted by the side effects of gauss,

So your icons in the window are as wavy as a souse,

Then you may as well reboot and go out with a bang,

'Cause as sure as I'm a poet, the sucker's gonna hang!

When the copy of your floppy's getting sloppy on the disk,

And the microcode instructions cause unnecessary RISC,

Then you have to flash your memory and you'll want to RAM your ROM,

Quickly turn off your computer and be sure to tell your mom!

If You Love Something

If you love something, set it free.

If it comes back, It will always be yours.

If it doesn't come back,

it was never yours to begin with.

But, if it just sits in your living room,

messes up your stuff, eats your food, uses

your telephone, takes your money, and doesn't

appear to realize that you had set it free...

You either married it or gave birth to it.

Redneck Love Poem

Collards are green,

my dog's name is Blue

and I'm so lucky

to have a sweet thang like you.

Yore hair is like cornsilk

a-flappin in the breeze.

Softer than Blue's

and without all them fleas.

You move like the bass,

which excite me in may.

You ain't got no scales

but I luv you anyway.

Yo're as satisfy'n as okry

jist a-fry'n in the pan.

Yo're as fragrant as "snuff"

right out of the can.

You have some'a yore teeth

for which I am proud.

I hold my head high

when we're in a crowd.

On special occasions,

when you shave under yore arms,

well, I'm in hawg heaven

and awed by yore charms.

Still them fellers at work,

they all want to know,

what I did to deserve

such a purdy, young doe.

Like a good roll of duct tape

yo're there fer yore man,

to patch up life's troubles

and fix what you can.

Yo're as cute as a junebug

a-buzzin' overhead.

You ain't mean like those far ants

I found in my bed.

Cut from the best cloth

like a plaid flannel shirt,

you spark up my life

more than a fresh load of dirt.

When you hold me real tight

like a padded gunrack,

my life is complete.

Ain't nuttin' I lack.

Yore complexion, it's perfection,

like the best vinyl sidin'

despite all the years,

yore age, it keeps hidin'.

Me "n" you's like a moon pie

with a RC cold drank,

we go together

like a skunk goes with stank.

Some men, they buy chocolate

for a Valentine's Day,

they git it at Wal-Mart,

it's romantic that way.

Some men git roses

on that special day

for the cooler at Krogers,

that's impressive, I say.

Some men buy fine diamonds

from a flea market booth.

"Diamonds are forever,"

they explain, suave and couth.

But for this man, honey,

these won't do.

Cause yo're too special,

you sweet thang you.

I got you a gift,

without taste nor odor,

more useful than diamonds...

It's a new troll'n motor!