From raincoaster to Archie…from Archie to Metro…the madness marches, tagless. Is there no end to this insanity? No abbreviation of this alliteration? Nay, not so but constant consonance.

SriusLEE, had I known Metro‘s favorite Shakespearian play was Macbeth, I’d have hesitated longer before accepting his hospitality. Truly, Lord and Lady Macbeth stand as a shining and eternal example of all that a host and hostess should not be. But I went anyway: if he’d only told me they had no gin, that woulda been a dealbreaker.

A sliver of MacMetro‘s elegant, piercing, and tearjerking, if unhyperlinked, contribution:

Is this a blogger that I see before me,
The keyboard t’wards mine hands? Ah, now I click thee.
I posted thee, and yet I see thee still,
Art thou froze, lousy server? Not sensible
To mine heart’s broken cries? Or is this but
A pausing at the node, a short delay?
Originating from the crowded cable?
I see thee yet, in form the same
As t’other window that I now do open.
Thou mock’st my labours of an hour ago,
And the environment I blog in.
Mine fingers drum upon the veneer’d desktop
But answer comes there none, I see thee still,
Thy circling logo saith “‘Tis being published”
Yet ’tis not so, I trow. There’s no such thing!
It is the fruit of hours that hath gone
From my account.

Of course, it’s his own fault for not being on WordPress.