Ten Little Indians

Ten little Indians going out to dine;

One went and choked his little self and then there were nine.

Nine little Indian boys sat up very late;
One overslept himself and then there were eight.

Eight little Indian boys traveling to Devon;
One got left behind and then there were seven.

Seven little Indian boys gathering up sticks;
One chopped himself in half and then there were six.

Six little Indian boys playing with a hive;
A bumblebee stung one and then there were five.

Five little Indian boys going in for law;
One got in chancery and
Then there were four.

Four little Indian boys going out to sea;
A red herring swallowed one and then there were three.

Three little Indian boys walking to the zoo;
A big bear hugged one and then there were two.

Two little Indians playing with a gun;
One shot the other and then there was one.

One little Indian boy left all alone;
He went and hanged himself
...and then there were none.

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A cheery little poem for this brief moment in time when we have ten bloggers. Soon to be changed, but I had to slide this in before there were eleven.

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The Hunter is an intimidating name for the least intimidating one of us all, Jeff. If he is wise he will change it to something normal, as will Xan. Or they will find themselves in Bootsville.

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Welcome Cory, or as I like to call him, the normal new guy, on board. He will warm your hearts.

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Sorry about the excessive post scripts of late.