A Bad Poem

Ick. Ick. Ick. I've been sick. Even sleep won't do the trick.

Ache. Ache. Ach. My head aches. My throat is sore, my stomach quakes. (sometimes)

Ow. Ow. Ow. My neck hurts now. The room, it spins. I hate to chow.

Work, work, work, yes it's berserk. But I don't care. It's just my quirk.

Gotta go.

Just For The Weirdness of It

This is from my boss who comes across the oddest things. I'll blog a real post later. If you understand German, let me know what the heck is going on, would ya?

Enjoy!

Hema