Stopping By Wankers On A Slow Evening

[with apologies to Robert Frost]

Whose blog is this I think I know.
He doesn't realize it blows;
His mission quite apparent here
To carry water to and fro.

The nation's most important fear
The threat to marriage from teh queer
To see if any sense it makes
Requires yet another beer.

He never will decision make
To admit to any mistake.
He toddles off to dream in sleep
Of cheeto dust and yellowcake.


The 'nets are lovely, dark, and deep,
The perfect cover for a creep,
And lies to tell before I sleep,
And lies to tell before I sleep.