And still you will notice that I have a higher average. Hmmm, Top heavy? where have all your top 10 poems been?

If I gave you a zero its because I thought it was absolutely devoid of any original thought, lacking strong writing, and horridly boring. No offence but have you ever looked at my voting status? The ratio is dreadfully top heavey. I'm glad you can see past being petty and spiteful but I voted as I have always voted. How I thought it was merited. <3 Jason

i really must commend you for proving the other side's argument for them so completely in your rebuttals and regardless of your lack of punctuation skills, this is not a prose poem

Don’t we try to make them work? The old habits, I mean – even if they aren’t any good and weren’t based on anything good to begin with. Thanks.

I'm laughing a bit and taking this as a compliment.

Consider the following passage, taken from The Lewd Memoirs of Sir Arthur Weatherby-Browne: "Punctuation," said Lord Bumlington-Smithe, "is the art of precision. Without it, one cannot surmount the dung-soaked drudgery of a peasant-like literacy, to soar majestically through the meandering colons and semi-colons of Gentlemanhood." Bumlington-Smithe leant towards Rutherford, eyes closed, smugness oozing from every orifice. His glass of Brandy teetered at an absurdly jaunty angle as he mulled over the extraordinary profundity of what he had just said. But it was not its profundity that silenced the Ambassador's guests. Nor was it Weatherby-Browne's subsequent, and rather unfortunate, outburst of broken wind. It was its impertinence. It was well known, among Important Gentlemen Of The Towne, that Rutherford had, as an undergraduate, arranged a May Week garden party in the "Trinity College Fellow's Garden." Of course, as every neglected Fellow knew only too well, the apostrophe should have been placed after the "s". As you can imagine, the damage to his reputation as both a Scholar and a Gentleman was irreparable. It was with the memory of this disgrace still ripe in his mind that Rutherford stood up, put down his glass, and strode around the table - thinking - figuring. Then, in an act of baffling cruelty, he seized Sir Fotherington's plate and hurled a two-volley barrage of Beeves Wellington at Bumlington-Smithe. The helpless Lord still had his eyes closed when the airborne Beeves collided with his face. Lady Queensbury fainted. Arthur Weatherby-Browne broke wind. And Bumlington-Smithe sat there aghast, his embrowned face punctuated with a curious mixture of Madeira Sauce, and Shame. "Oh Dear," said Rutherford, "I appear to have mispunctuated a Fellow!!!!!!111111" Exercises: 1. To demonstrate that knowledge of punctuation is not an important part of being literate, rewrite the passage above without using any punctuation. [100 marks] 2. For an extra bonus, get someone who doesn't understand punctuation to read the passage above. How the fuck can they? [1 mark]