| From another ' old f***' who shudders.
Ode to my Spell-Checker.
Eye have a spelling chequer
It came with my pea sea
It plane lea marks for my revue
Miss steaks eye kin not sea.
Eye strike the quay and type a word,
And weight for it to say
Weather eye am wrong or write
It shows me strait a weigh.
As soon as a mist ache is maid
It nose before two long,
And eye can put the err roar rite
Its rare lea ever wrong.
Eye have run this poem threw it
Eye am shore your pleased too no
Its letter perfect awl the weigh
My chequer tolled me sew.
ANON.
I'll get my coat .......
Aye
MalcolmII |