When dealing with an Awful Link, one of the worst phrases to encounter (excepting "new world order" and anything involving "furotica") is "this site has thousands of pages." You could spend an eternal hell browsing Opossum Sally's links, and even if you survived the initial marathon, there's always the constant threat that she might be updating. Most of the material in Sally's Crap Compendium originated elsewhere long ago ("Timely Tips from 2000!"), so while noting the site contains hundreds of moldy computer jokes (take that, AOL and Paint Shop Pro!) and a soul-crushing array of "funny pictures" with names like "giant babies" and "monkey playing guitar," I'll stick with her original content.
While her tributes to Bronson Pinchot and Murder She Wrote are quite stirring, Sally's poems are the main attraction:
MOLLY IS MY FAVORITE COW
BUT I DARE NOT TELL HER SO
BECAUSE SHE WOULD BE INSULTED
SHE THINKS SHE'S HUMAN YOU KNOW
HER EYES ARE DARK BROWN
WHICH MATCHES HER COAT
SHE LOVES TO SING
AND FROM HER I QUOTE
SHE CAN'T CARRY A TUNE
I CERTAINLY HOPE
SHE'LL STOP PRETTY SOON
BUT I LOVE MY DEAR MOLLY
AND SHE IS MY PAL
SHE REALLY IS A WONDERFUL COW
OOPS I MEAN GAL
There was a young lady from Beggs,
Who they say was born with four legs,
But no one asked how,
For she was a cow,
And cows are born with four legs in Beggs.
There's no easy way to put this, so I'll tell it like it is. Bouillon is died. He went missing before the weekend and yesterday I found his skeletonized remains at the bottom of the #3 soup vat during one of my swims. I thought the cream of mushroom soup had an especially nourishing taste, and a lot more clumps of fur and skin than usual.
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