...................01110111011001010110110001100011011011110110110101100101................... Doubting Vanilla [29/11/05-14:39] - Almost perfect, nearly exactly as i want my blog to be, cant think what else i want on it!, im sure i will, its a dynamic work in progress but isnt everything (damn bikes) [18/01/06-00:27]

Tuesday, January 10, 2006


Inside this place is many a being,
I hope this whistle stop tour will broaden your seeing.

Species: Reptilius Amplificus

Here is a character that makes strings dance,
He plucks and he picks and creates quite a trance.
Controls of bright silver adorn a weapon most red,
His secret companion sleeps at the foot of his bed.

With teeth so white and a smile so wide,
He tempts you and lures you ‘til you come inside.
When you are beaten he coils round and round,
Until nothing is left but a mark on the ground.

A hat you will find perched upon his head,
At least when he’s up and out of his bed.
His curtains are drawn all day and all night,
So that when the post comes he can stay out of sight.

Species: Greasius Tinkerus

Our next creature is happy when playing with rocks,
Traversing the town he picks up some knocks.
His vehicles are equipped and ready to go,
To describe best his motion you’d be wrong to say slow.

He’s had his share of problems with electrical goods,
To calm himself thoroughly he gets muddy in woods.
He stands above the crowd, even if they are older,
It’s not difficult for him when they only come to his shoulder.

Nails of jet black on his hands and his feet,
A saddle he prefers above any seat.
Another of his vices is being armed and alert,
Always be wary of what is under his shirt.

Species: Evilus Maximus

He may not have a patch and there’s no parrot to be seen,
But I swear this man’s a pirate who would adopt the role of queen.
I don’t mean to say that he’d wear a dress and make up,
But I know he won’t be satisfied ‘til the world will queue to fill his cup.

A comfortable night must be hard to find,
Especially with world domination on the mind.
Maybe that’s why he sleeps on his treasure,
Full of the discs he samples at leisure.

To the public he’s seen as a respectable figure,
But if you were to cross him, he’ll be on the trigger.
A darkened red is the colour of his eyes,
His one point of weakness, a box of mince pies.

Species: Foilus Stabus

In a cupboard by the door stands a bag full of swords,
Cleaned of the debris from defeating mass hordes.
He stands head to toe in his white fighting suit,
Complete with an alien mask to boot.

More often than not you’ll find him cooking,
Just follow your nose if you can’t be arsed looking.
His culinary secrets he is keen to save,
What? Don’t be stupid he doesn’t use a microwave.

His chariot stands proud, gleaming in any light;
As smooth and as sleek as the elusive red kite.
It stands on four wheels, two more than any other,
Brutish and powerful, take heed and find cover.

Species: Randomus Mindus

And last but not least, our host here tonight.
Describing himself, oh joy and delight!
Well where do I start? Who knows anyway?
He’s fantastic, witty and modest some say.

So that was a lie; I’m sorry, forgive me.
I’ll start again; best try and get through this quickly.

He’s a man who likes sleep, but at the wrong time of day,
Whilst others are waking he’s snoring away.
To make up for this you’ll frequently see
Him wandering the house at 4:53.

On his bow you will find many a string,
Some broken, some fine. He’s tried more than one thing.
His latest challenge is to become a poet,
Now the reader decides will he succeed or blow it?

Well this concludes the tour for now,
When sat back home do not wander how.
Instead contemplate with sadness and glee,
That you are not a member of house 43.
Rich Morris (Randomus Mindus)


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