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Array
(
[sid] => 52428
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Lady Assaults Computer Man
[time] => 2004-06-17 15:38:22
[hometext] =>
[bodytext] =>  She is a lady, elderly but sweet Who needs at times a deft Computer Man, That fixes her machine and does not cheat, Is knowledgeable and who drives a van The loss of vital features vex the brain, It means “Repair” when screens freeze suddenly, The gear needs checking this is all too plain When WINDOWS will not work efficiently. Its the Millenium Windows she needs fixed, And more, - but trouble shooters did decline, Compaq and Microsoft have firmly nixed To help her out with only one phone line:. “One phone line, is no good -- get you a man! That will in person your machine attend, That’s what you need, Madam,- a real man! A man with your contraption au-courant The bicycle is out of question, for The system unit’s tower is too high, Nor space sufficient for the monitor, In heavy traffic aught might go awry. Around the corner a computer store Has signs: displayed: “We fix computer gear” But people say, the boss proprietor, A chap called Stanislaus is never here. “Pridjot, (he comes) the girl says - he might, If not tonight - tomorrow, -da,- pridjot! He’s busy and comes only late at night, He might come in perhaps, or maybe not”. Days passed and weeks, and Mr. Stanislaus Called Stan, could not be tackled anywhere To fix the weird contraption at her house Where in a freeze Millenium Windows glare. . The News-tobacco store on Nineteenth Street, With awning giving shelter against rain This was the place for ambushing most fit And tackle the elusive Mr. Stan. Attentively she shadowed every man, That passed along the Twentieth Avenue, And checked each vehicle, each car or van Close by the Pizza Parlor Richelieu. One night she saw him (so she thought) and ran To stop a figure with amorphous head, And cried, “arrest, stop the computer man! Its him! its him!, - how very fortunate! Yes it was him, she was quite sure, and hopped , But he walked fast, too fast and neared a car, “Stop Mr. Stan!” --one of her sandals dropped, Between the pizza parlor and Mick’s zippy bar. With folded hands she pleaded” Gozpodin! Good Sir, I waited for long, so long , Come to my place and fix the weird machine, With the contraption there seems something wrong1‘. Then grabbed him by the collar of his neck, To turn him round with one loud single cry; “Please Gozpodin, don’t turn on me your back’ And pulled with firmness on his speckled tie “What do you want from me, -ye want Madam??- I want to have a drink - leave me alone!, My name is Jerry Smith, , not Russky. Stan, Now go away, I want to use that phone.” O hurt~!! what hurt! - but waiting patiently , Paid off and was rewarded with success,. Trained for the endurance in adversity, And counterbalance for elusiveness.. He came, at last, though grumbling, but aplomb, And checked the innards of the gear,-- teehee! And dropped upon the tray with curled a thumb A purging, extirpating -all DC. If fixing is beyond your light and wit, You need a man - there is no other way, A Stanislaus or John that fixes it I got mine fixed - I have no more to say. Elizabeth Dandy , . pcropped.JPG" [comments] => 3 [counter] => 171 [topic] => 7 [informant] => Elizabeth_Dandy [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => HumorPoetry )
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