Golf Poem (spam... FORE!)

urbonsome

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In My Hand I Hold A Ball,

White And Dimpled, Rather Small.



Oh, How Bland It Does Appear,

This Harmless Looking Little Sphere.



By Its Size I Could Not Guess,

The Awesome Strength It Does Possess.



But Since I Fell Beneath Its Spell,

I've Wandered Through The Fires Of Hell.



My Life Has Not Been Quite The Same,

Since I Chose To Play This Stupid Game.



It Rules My Mind For Hours On End,

A Fortune It Has Made Me Spend.



It Has Made Me Yell, Curse And Cry.

I Hate Myself And Want To Die.



It Promises A Thing Called Par,

If I Can Hit It straight And Far...



To Master Such A Tiny Ball,

Should Not Be Very Hard At All..



But My Desires The Ball Refuses,

And Does Exactly As It Chooses.



It Hooks And Slices, Dribbles And Dies,

And Even Disappears Before My Eyes.



www.ramen-afro.com - please click for spam links. hey! Golf? Links? Get it? AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA...

um...

*whack* OW!

(fore! whoops, sorry.)
 
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poetinahat

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I wonder if this is our very first spam poem.
 

KTC

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I made a spam poem sandwich before to lure the lunkhead google ads. this is copycat spametry, thank you very much.
 

KTC

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HA! I had to go back to 2005 for this one!

A Google Poem

Tarmacs sizzling
Neighbours humping in the midnight haze.
Spiders sucking insect juice through torped incisors.
Cats crossing paths unmarked by madness.
Effexor, Lithium and smiling happy people.
Take out your lawn mowers, America...
Start your engines,
Motor oil is optional.
Kiss the Blarney Stone backwards
In backyards alive with pansies, bouganvillea and baby carrots.
Gardens unvisited by pilfering bunnies
Make a sad day for green thumbed animal lovers.
Planes in the distance
Dropping their Samsonite
Into Indian Oceans and Australian outbacks.
Sad day for pilots,
pickled, insensitive passengers too.
Is that you Jesus?
The smell of Orville Reddenbacher
Alive in a kitchen
Filled with dirty dishes.
Palmolive...
You're soaking in it!

THREAD
 

poetinahat

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Nice one, Mr. Mojo Risin'
 

poetinahat

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I, er, "fixed" the original link.
 

MacAllister

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The spammers are more desperate
And challenged by the hour
To think up means 'round guarded ends
And moderators, dour

Spam in posted verse
Smells awful, that's for true,
But spam disguised as golfballs
At least has splatter value
 
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Magdalen

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Yea, I saw this last night and noticed the lack of a capital "s" in S8 L2 and thought it sad that even spammers are not typo-free. Tsk, tsk.