DAVE'S STATS: A POEM,
In the world of wires, where bits and bytes flow,
There’s a man we all know, and his fame starts to grow
Dave, The Doctor, with wisdom to share,
A digital sage, with stats laid bare.
Each month without fail, at the stroke of the hour,
He posts his new stats, a true geeky power.
On Usenet they gather, and the group's readers fear,
For The Doctor's stat posts are always quite near.
“Here’s the data,” Yads says with a grin,
“Just some numbers to track, let the trends begin!”
Lines of code, stat tables so neat,
A monthly routine no one could beat.
The bickering, the trolling, the occasional flame,
Yet when Dave posts his stats, it’s always the same
A hush falls upon the eager crowd,
For in his data, posting truths are found.
But oh, how The Doctor’s touch is quite deft,
For certain people, those stats aren’t left.
“Some data's too spicy,” he’ll calmly declare,
A number or name gets erased from the air.
“Censored,” we’ll say, with a nod and a wink,
Dave's stats have secrets hidden within.
A filter, a snip, then the rest will proceed,
His stats are now clean, edited to suit his need.
The frequency of messages, the bandwidth they crave,
How much space is left on the server to save?
The average posts per user, the peaks and the lows,
Dave charts the threads where the digital wind blows.
He’s not a hero, no cape or a crown,
But his stat posts, always break new ground.
For in a world of spam and debates full of strife,
Dave’s monthly stats bring the order to life.
--
(C) Bluffing Bard Publishing 2025
DAVE'S STATS: A POEM,
In the world of wires, where bits and bytes flow,
There’s a man we all know, and his fame starts to grow
Dave, The Doctor, with wisdom to share,
A digital sage, with stats laid bare.
Each month without fail, at the stroke of the hour,
He posts his new stats, a true geeky power.
On Usenet they gather, and the group's readers fear,
For The Doctor's stat posts are always quite near.
“Here’s the data,” Yads says with a grin,
“Just some numbers to track, let the trends begin!”
Lines of code, stat tables so neat,
A monthly routine no one could beat.
The bickering, the trolling, the occasional flame,
Yet when Dave posts his stats, it’s always the same
A hush falls upon the eager crowd,
For in his data, posting truths are found.
But oh, how The Doctor’s touch is quite deft,
For certain people, those stats aren’t left.
“Some data's too spicy,” he’ll calmly declare,
A number or name gets erased from the air.
“Censored,” we’ll say, with a nod and a wink,
Dave's stats have secrets hidden within.
A filter, a snip, then the rest will proceed,
His stats are now clean, edited to suit his need.
The frequency of messages, the bandwidth they crave,
How much space is left on the server to save?
The average posts per user, the peaks and the lows,
Dave charts the threads where the digital wind blows.
He’s not a hero, no cape or a crown,
But his stat posts, always break new ground.
For in a world of spam and debates full of strife,
Dave’s monthly stats bring the order to life.
On 01/08/2025 11:05, The Bluffing Bard wrote:
DAVE'S STATS: A POEM,
In the world of wires, where bits and bytes flow,
There’s a man we all know, and his fame starts to grow
Dave, The Doctor, with wisdom to share,
A digital sage, with stats laid bare.
Each month without fail, at the stroke of the hour,
He posts his new stats, a true geeky power.
On Usenet they gather, and the group's readers fear,
For The Doctor's stat posts are always quite near.
“Here’s the data,” Yads says with a grin,
“Just some numbers to track, let the trends begin!”
Lines of code, stat tables so neat,
A monthly routine no one could beat.
The bickering, the trolling, the occasional flame,
Yet when Dave posts his stats, it’s always the same
A hush falls upon the eager crowd,
For in his data, posting truths are found.
But oh, how The Doctor’s touch is quite deft,
For certain people, those stats aren’t left.
“Some data's too spicy,” he’ll calmly declare,
A number or name gets erased from the air.
“Censored,” we’ll say, with a nod and a wink,
Dave's stats have secrets hidden within.
A filter, a snip, then the rest will proceed,
His stats are now clean, edited to suit his need.
The frequency of messages, the bandwidth they crave,
How much space is left on the server to save?
The average posts per user, the peaks and the lows,
Dave charts the threads where the digital wind blows.
He’s not a hero, no cape or a crown,
But his stat posts, always break new ground.
For in a world of spam and debates full of strife,
Dave’s monthly stats bring the order to life.
This poem once again proving AIs superiority at creative writing than
modern humans, especially Chibnall, Davies, and Moffat and their
degenerate woke writers room fully of soap opera hacks. They'd all do
better to fill it with unwoke AI.
--
The True Doctor https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCngrZwoS0n21IRcXpKO79Lw
"To be woke is to be uninformed which is exactly the opposite of what it >stands for." --William Shatner
Then again bard you can try going to prose around
here and write a DW fanfic.
It is Blueshirt in action.
The Doctor wrote:
It is Blueshirt in action.
Nope, 100% AI.
Based on some decent prompting obviously...
It's a very quiet summer here with nothing much happening,
so I like to keep myself amused while everyone's on holiday...
As well as my alter-ego inhabiting the creative group, I've
also taken you out of my killfile for a while.
What good is it in having a hobby if you get bored with it?
Plus, Usenet needs to stay alive!
The Doctor wrote:
Then again bard you can try going to prose around
here and write a DW fanfic.
Your wish is my command...
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