Scrabble tiles are the answer. All my previous posts are bullshit. This is definitive. To paraphrase the divine Hilaire Belloc, I've done quite enough of this horrible stuff and I don't want to do any more. It's obsessional.
When forty winters shall besiege thy brow
Hate fresh, greeny, wobbly owl shit!
And dig deep trenches in thy beauty's field
Trite fancy lady bunged sheep shit. Indeed!
Thy youth's proud livery, so gazed on now
O Dot, new zoo lady, hoover syrupy gnu shit.
Will be a tottered weed of small worth held.
Or we tell them toad shit, O lewd dwarf belle.
Then, being asked where all thy beauty lies
Neal, the brainy weedy geek, hates bull shit.
Where all the treasure of thy lusty days:
Leery, easy Hull whores hate fatty turds.
To say within thine own deep sunken eyes
Yon weeny nudie poet wins the snake shit.
Were an all-eating shame and thriftless praise
A thief wanders in Penge, steals rare llama shit.
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