So here I sit in Rich's house (that's right, bad people! if you think his house is an easy target while he's in Mickey Mouse Heck, I'd be happy to put the smackdown on you), attempting to blog on Marvin the Computer. This is no trivial task, since Marvin is a tiny green computer made for kids in Third World countries. I may have small hands for an adult in a First World country, but even I find it a challenge to type on Marvin. So please excuse any typos. I have promised Toque McToque a photo of Marvin, since one does not encounter adorable computers every day, and I have just the thing to put it in perspective, but of course said object is at my house and I am at Rich's house. It has taken me twenty minutes to laboriously type this paragraph because I have to type so carefully. Now I generally type upwards of 60 words per minute, but typing at my normal speed on Marvin would be a disaster. Allow me to demonstrate with a poem we all had to memorize in hgh school, although I was never sure why:
Whse woods theseare I think I know;
His houxe is in yhe vvillage, thoughy.
He will noy see ,e syoppinh jete
To waychhis woods fill up wiyh snow.
my liyylr hotse musy find iy queer
To syop wiyout a villge near
beween he woods and frozenm lake
The darkest eveninghg of the yer.
He gives jos hness ells a shake
Yo addk if there's neen some mistake
The only oher' suimds the sweep
og fromst ywind anmd downy flke
The woods we lovely, dk nd deep,
but I hcew promiea to keep
nd miles to go befor eI awlpp,
nd miles to go before I aeep.
-- Robert Frot
So you can see why I will be wraping things up now.
Famus Hat
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