Drivel Of Yore

Daily Drivel - Poodate: 5608


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The Daily Drivel is being updated!

Yes, that's right.  We know you've been enjoying the 
Daily Drivel for a long time, but you have to admit it is 
rather in need of a lick of paint.  That's why we have 
produced a brand spanking new and thoroughly enthralling 
publication called Stuff Today.  Loyal readers of the 
Daily Drivel may have noticed that they have already been 
receiving the new exciting and wholly amazing Stuff Today.  
However, because Stuff Today is sent from your new (and 
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might have ended up in your spam folder because your email 
client doesn't yet know how fabulous pooclub.com is.

So, we are advising you to make sure that you can receive 
email from stuff@pooclub.com because some day pretty soon 
Daily Drivel is going to end.

I know it sounds bad but sometimes you've got to move with 
the times, embrace the new, and bid a stoic farewell to the 
old, no matter how cherished it is.  I'm sure you'll agree 
that this move is for the best and you'll enjoy Stuff Today 
even more than you have the Daily Drivel.

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Friday 04 December 2015
-----------------------
St. Norman's Day
patron saint of uninteresting things.

The Meaning Of Liff
-------------------
WIMBLEDON (n.)
That last drop which, no matter how much you shake it, always goes down your trouser leg.

I Never Knew That
-----------------
Each nostril of a human being register smell in a different way. Smells that are made from the right nostril are more pleasant than the left. However, smells can be detected more accurately when made by the left nostril




Poem Of The Day
---------------

This Wretched Life
(Rachel)

At night I dream of lager, 
and watching my TV 
I thought a fly flew in my ear; 
it stung me . . . it's a bee. 
The aliens watched from above 
while laughing at my plight. 
Their mind probes took out half my brain 
but gave me the power of flight. 
I wandered lonely through the streets 
and cursed this wretched life. 
A thieving gypsy stole my shoes 
and later became my wife. 
We nurtured fifteen children. 
They stole cars and sniffed glue, 
so I kicked their sorry asses 
while wishing they were you. 


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The Shit At The End
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