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Cried a great English writer, "Oh, Shaw! My testes are small as the Dickens." Said his surgeon, "Great Scott! Here's a fine pair-o'-Keats'; I'll transplant them and make your Balsworthy." My computer crawls out every night On the Web with a grim appetite. It will search by the hour For bits to devour, Then gobbles two cubed in each byte. -- John Cowan <jcowan@r...> http://www.reutershealth.com I amar prestar aen, han mathon ne nen, http://www.ccil.org/~cowan han mathon ne chae, a han noston ne 'wilith. --Galadriel, _LOTR:FOTR_
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