Here I sit, broken-hearted,
All logged in, but work unstarted.
First net.this and net.that,
And a hot buttered bun for net.fat.

The boss comes by, and I play the game,
Then I turn back to net.flame.
Is there a cure (I need your views),
For someone trapped in net.news?

I need your help, I say 'tween sobs,
'Cause I'll soon be listed in net.jobs.

I ran across this poem and I thought I'd share it (and since it's not Haiku it needs a new thread)

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I websurfed, weak and weary,
Over many a strange and spurious website of hot chicks galore,
While I clicked my fav'rite bookmark, suddenly there came a warning,
And my heart was filled with mourning, mourning for my dear amour.
'Tis not possible, I muttered, give me back my cheap hardcore! "”
Quoth the server, "404".