Overheard From A Particular Box At Ford's Theater
Consarn
it, Booth--the stench
of your acting rises
to this box like the rot of death
itself!
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Consarn
it, Booth--the stench
of your acting rises
to this box like the rot of death
itself!
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"madnessnearallied" is not, sadly, an actual individual, but a poetry-producing mechanized device consisting of an amped-up Jerkymaster 2000 wired into a Commodore 64, and there may be bits and pieces of a 60's vintage electric football game in there somewhere as well. We sincerely apologize for any confusion this may have engendered.
Death to tyrant actors
This poem makes me want to smoke crack. And I like smoking crack.
Ummm...OK?
I'm going to take that as a compliment.