:TESTO:If you don't have anything interesting to say, write a silly poem instead.

My riding-bike has very old gears,
odd levers upon its shaft.
It jerks and it creaks
when turning them foreward,
and chatters when turned to aft.

Tooth-gnasher is earning his name. I don't quite understand the purpose of the lefthand lever, but the righthand lever I use for "uphill" (toggled rearward) and "not uphill" (toggled foreward). The space in between is a clattery sound, and the cable connecting the lever to the gears is not as taut as I think it ought. To be. I nevertheless remain pleased with my bicycle.

and
If you're bored and listless, take two and call me in the morning.

A teacher's life on a Friday night
    ain't always a sight that you'd like to espy.
A week of nothing but school on the mind
    released for the week-end, he starts to unwind
And melts in a puddle of goo.
With nothing much else to do.
He flops like a puddle of goo,
and watches the evening go by.

:ENDTESTO: