An Ode to Cas Con

--Trisket (aka Joshua Smith)--

'Twas the dawn of a new age of CasCondom

All the freshmeats had been assembled

To watch at first the players of yore

Of which none of them could have resembled.

Many a freshmeat attempt to aspire

To levels of celebrity giv'n to the old

Yet all their attempts seem to inspire

The veterens to leave them out in the cold.

The first of these fiends to lift up her head

Hath dubbed herself the queen of TP

She called herself royalty, but the old ones said

That the woman's TP was where it should be... (think about it)

This queen in her folly a Dutchess set up

Her roommate, her friend, another pretender

And some banged their heads, while others threw up,

And asked of the post office just where they could send her.

There there was the boy who thought himself a man,

Comparing himself to a glorious horse,

This crazy Italian made me laugh, what a cad!

But his attmepts at insults became increasingly worse.

Then there was that blasted, poor Earl --(who for some reason thought

Who thought upon Cas Con he could raise a coup --himself to be an emporer)

To make a new conference his plan would unfurl

And was trampled, and so we laughed at him too.

Then there is Watchdog, in obscurity lost,

He sadly is never around,

I think I saw him twice, his access must cost,

And for this poor guy I offer a frown.

Janie Hunter is yet another fool,

Who refuses to take a name,

I thus dub her Barney, since she said he was cool,

And will keep doing so again and again.

However, not all would rise and revolt

The wise Duckbrownnoser was one of these fools

He kissed up to Enforcer, but thought him a dolt

And simply became one of the Madman's tools.

Not all of the freshmeat are dumb, I'll admit,

But it's fun to jest and to give them a rise

They weep and they wail, and it's hard to forget

When I did likewise to Woozy, oh! What a surprise!

For each year the Freshmeats I poke and I prod

Whilst secretly I evny their youth even more

They, for some reason, can survive after dawn

Whilst I die at 12, unconscious evermore.

Now comes the new veterens, my close and dear friends

Whome last year I thrashed, and pissed off galore,

Woozy despised me, and Gee-off just grinned

But each one was special, and here is their lore:

Woozy was one who took me with all

The salt in the world, which made me do more

She's the definition of the best of them all

When it cometh to CasCondom, her ratings but soar.

Then there was Beatrice, the Spinner despised

At least when her lover and she started to "Moo."

They'd sit in the lobby, and the temp it would rise,

And all ran away when we heard "I wuv you..."

Our beloved Enforcer was new just last year,

He called himself Madman, and the name did ring true,

His attempts at humor would make my eyes tear

For at first they sucked, but for all, ain't that true?

One of our pals was the ogre name Awkward,

A humongous guy with a fabulous wit. (okay, not humongous...but I'm 5'5")

I look up to him, at least I do height-ward,

And I say that he's good...I don't want to be bit.

One man only comes to fill CC with spite,

The bad villain Spilo's his name

He makes fun of us, calls us all trite.

But wait! That's our claim to fame!

Strangest of all are those wonderous folks

Who chose not to come here 'til now,

They're returning students, but now are all dolts,

Yes, they're insane, and we all say "And how!"

The beautiful red-head I dubbed Hiccup,

Has recently entered our ranks,

She's incredibly hyper, but not well brought-up

So if she don't shave, just call her Long-Shanks.

A lover of cheese we called Velveeta

She often posts here with nothing to say

If you don't know her, you really should meet her (Okay, I know...)

She sings on Crosslight, and must be okay.

Now comes the list of the faithful and true

Who have stuck with Cas Con from the olden days

Who have known the cynic and the Yeti blue,

And who sit here to remember, and it pays.

Many have left, yes, they ran away,

When the horrible Freshmeats took over,

But some were so stubborn, they decided to stay,

And stuck with CasCon like that old seat cover.

The oldest of all is the man Frankenstein,

Although he wants to be called Svengali.

We personally think he's wasting his time,

And mock his spelling, oringbinali. (HEY! /You/ find a rhyme!)

Next is that gal that we call Lal,

Although she used be be Queenie

The old ruler of CC, the best of 'e all,

And sometimes she was our best meanie.

Another big one was that babe, Mouse,

Who liked to join me as I picked on the kids,

This woman is truely as big as a house,

And has a heart to match, made up of squids.

Then there was Rapunzel, the follically booked,

Who last year I dubbed the Old Maid,

However now, she's got herself hooked

To poor Romeo, the sap, who has his life made.

Now, who could forget that idiot Trisket,

The man who could never choose a good name.

First it was LionsKin, now a strange Basket,

The slayer of Spiders, and never the same.

We can't forget Shell, the Controller of all,

Who weilds her power like a fickle god,

Giving all decisions to her Enforcer, the gall

Of it tickles me, which should seem quite odd.

Last but not least is the Benedict, Romeo,

Who shot the poor Cupid, and then lifted up

The banner of love, and then an Oreo,

'Cause like me he loves Chocolate -- what up?

A few who aren't here, still should be named,

For it was them who gave us our ways,

These pillars of CasCondom shall always be claimed

As CasConite Saints, 'til the end of our days!

The first I shall name is the man called the Yeti,

Who left us for that horrid A-state,

He left a legacy, none want the life of a Yeti,

But they follow his flag, which I think is great.

Then there's the fool, the Cynic so called,

Who blasted love, and yet still embraced it.

He blasted emotion, and beat himself bald,

And yet true love he never had tasted.

One whom we fear shall never be gone,

For he sadly decided to marry one of us,

We call him Nappy, the prodigal son,

And not even graduation can keep him from us.

Last to be named is our favorite big-hair,

We called her Kitty, and she was aptly named.

I'll tell you not why, that wouldn't be fair,

Since I do not know, and so can't be blamed.

Thus ends this rhyme, since my fingers are numb,

My creative genious has taken a hike,

Some may hate my poem, but they are just dumb.

And they can stick it in the spokes of a bike!

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