Jim Gallacher <[EMAIL PROTECTED]> writes:
> For some reason all this talk of logging makes me want to sing, sing,
> sing...
>
> Well I'm a lumberjack and I'm OK...
Shurely the wrong song, it should be the song of our alma mater:
Ohhhhhh! John Stewart Mill of his own free will
Drank eleven bottles and was particularly ill.
Plato, they say, could pack it away
Half a crate of whiskey every day.
Aristotle, Aristotle was a bugger for the bottle;
Hobbes was fond of his dram
And Rene Descarte was a drunken fart:
"I drink therefore I am."
Nic
