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The Final Furlong

"And so the bend is near, and now I race the final furlong." sang Frank Sinatra in his classic hit "My way."

And that's just where we find ourselves right now. That wraps it up for Crappalot's Page. I hope you've enjoyed our time together as much as I have. Well, to be honest, I hope you haven't enjoyed it quite as much as I have because it's me that's had to do all the work and so I deserve to enjoy it more than you. No disrespect to you, mind, but all you've had to do is click on a few hypertext links and scroll up and down a bit. I've had to figure out all the HTML and type out all the interesting stuff you've just read.

So, I hope you've enjoyed it not quite as much as me but a reasonable amount - I guess enough to think, "Hmmm, that Crappalot's made some interesting points. It's not been a total waste of time reading all the things he has to say."

I'd hate it if you thought, "Wow! That was amazing! That Crappalot horse has totally changed my life." I really wouldn't like to have that kind of responsibility.

Mind you, I'd also hate it if you thought, "What a complete pile of arse! All he's done is drone on a load of old toot and annoy me with a lot of cheap horse jokes." But then again, if you thought that, you wouldn't have read as far as this, now, would you?

I've got to trot off now as I promised my younger brother Dobbin that I'd do a spot of neighing for him as he's got a bad throat and is feeling a little hoarse.

Clip clop.

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