3/23/2004

Simple Simon met a Pi man

Simple Simon met a Pi man counting on his hands, Simon said unto this madman, “Hey, there are crinkles on your face!” But the Pi man whispered to his digits—“get me to another place.” Simple Simon started whining, “Hey, I love pie as much as the next guy, but’--but the math man interrupts: “I am the Pi man, I am a wise man—but pi means please shut up!” Two million digits had Pi man tracked in his never ending quest, so Simon relents and quietly tries to sing his level best: “I am a simpleton, I have a wife and fam, we take long walks on Sunday, and yesterday I waxed my chest.” The Pi man lost his count and shrieked, “Who cares about your wife? Who cares about her Sunday cooking? I spit upon your life!” Simon frowns down to the ground—he never heard such poison words; Pi man was to blame. But Pi man drew a perfect circle, shoved the page in Simon’s face; Sim was shocked, he soiled his frock--he wiped Pi’s ass up with his fists.

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