At fifty-five thousand and nine-fifty-eight The burden of glory shines bright on our plate With fifty-two more posts (Well, now fifty-one) The K's will click up! Our good deed will be done! And none can ignore , as our triumphing shineth That the quality here is of only the finest. No scalawag lackwits nor slackers are we Who paper the halls of the M.O.A.B! It's only the greatest! Only the best! The purest, the finest, the best of BS! So dig in your wit-pit and bring out your jests! With irony, sarcasm, dryness and zest! Fail not, as the night turns on toward the day To advance our Great Mother to her fifty-sixth Kay! Dr. Rowell M. Arriffer, Poet Laureate Village of Skinderflintøn, Norway January 1907
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