gistfile1.txt

'Twas C.O.B., and the parchsome blusts
Did crask and clottle in the scrit;
All blooping were the plixenplusts
And the roop lam'd a-flit.

"Beware the Jabberluck, my dev!
The beers that swirl, the fries that crunch!
Beware the bumble shot, and dread
The glugulous berclunch!"

He took his lorpid glass in fist,
Longtime the brumish bar he sought --
So rested he by a lamp, bewist,
And stood awhile in thought.

And as in uffish thought he gogged,
The Jabberluck, with taps of sud,
Came drumbling through the whiftsome fog,
With liquor for its blood!

One two! Three four! And down and down
The lorpid drinks went swisher-swosh!
Then stumbled he the table 'round
To have a smoke with Josh.

"Didst thou consume the slidyburg?
Raise high your voice, o jollous glag!
And guess anew, to split in two
Your choices of douche-bag!"

'Twas C.O.B., and the parchsome blusts
Did frask and clottle in the scrit;
All blooping were the plixenhusts
And the roop lam'd a-flit.