Quoth The Server – A Poem by Edgar Allen Zilla

Once upon a Google query, while I web searched, on a theory,
That page seven supplemental might have what I was looking for,
My computer started yapping, that a virus needed trapping,
And that threat – it needed zapping, zapping now: “Proceed / Ignore?”
“Fucking Advert,” this I muttered, as I promptly clicked “Ignore”-
‘Twas a popup, nothing more,

Ah, distinctly I remember, I was searching for a Kender,
With the keyword “gender-bender” amidst the Net’s forgotten lore,
Short and surly I require to satisfy my strange desire,
That’s why nothing gets me higher than a tranny midget whore,
Judge me no less a person; I’d love a tranny midget whore,
‘Tis a fetish, nothing more.

With my Facebook status stating that “I’m going roller–skating,”
‘Til I’m done with masturbating, interruptions I’d deplore,
Leaning forward I was perching on my chair where I was lurching,
Through the SERPs that I was searching, searching deeper than before,
What precious prize did I discover searching deeper than before?
Only spam and nothing more,

Apt results were sorely lacking, Eric Schmit I felt like smacking,
Else how can I start my whacking? tell me – tell me, I implore!
Searching deeper then I stumbled, ‘pon a title slightly jumbled,
Then my mouse I faintly fumbled, when I gazed “Kender hardcore”,
Videos of what I wanted as I clicked “Kender hardcore”?
‘Twas just text and nothing more.

Google’s SERPs were damned disjointed, so I pondered, disappointed,
Until Bing was thus anointed to help me find what I adore,
My initial query haltered, though I only slightly faltered,
SafeSearch settings must be altered, altered for a midget whore,
With that final hurdle hurdled I search for shemale midget whore,
This I sought and nothing more.

Beholding what Bing had vaunted, it still wasn’t what I wanted,
Yet I still endured undaunted – pages two, then three, then four,
Then my cursor coyly hovered ‘cross a website I discovered,
There I thought I had uncovered, uncovered her: my next amour,
Beguiled by a beautiful thumbnail bound to be my next amour.
How I wanted nothing more,

That tiny pic was such a splendor it portrayed a carnal Kender,
With a link that read: transgender movie click here to see more,
But while the website tout a token, that most crucial link was broken!
‘Twas about to start my stroken but the page was there no more,
The link worded what I wanted but the page was there no more,
Quoth the server, `404.’

Foiled heart was slowly sinking; what was that webmaster thinking?
Was it simply sloppy linking to a gender bender whore?
So I probed some permutation of that URL’s location,
Thus I strained imagination to morph that message from before,
Oh, how I sighed for something sweeter than that message from before,
Quoth the server, `404.’

“The URL you requested can not be found” so I tested,
What my inner muse suggested by subbing dash for underscore,
On a mission proud and pressing keyboard buttons toward accessing,
Where I could enjoy crossdressing and shemale midget sex galore,
Thusly I dared the devil show me shemale midget sex galore,
Quoth the server, `404.’

Such a callous cold rejection quickly killing my erection,
And the depth of my dejection – little relevancy bore,
Nothing more infuriating and I couldn’t help but hating,
The knave guilty of creating that vile error I deplore,
What base and banal geek bestowed that vile error I deplore,
With such name as `404′?
Legend has it that Edgar Allen Zilla is a direct desendent of Sun Zilla.

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2 Responses to “Quoth The Server – A Poem by Edgar Allen Zilla”

  1. Mikuso says:

    Cool. Very nice 🙂

    Reminds me of this: http://interloper.org/404/404.html (not sure if that’s the original source)

  2. john says:

    Quite possibly the best poetry I’ve read in a decade…or at least this morning.