Comp Sci and Sci-Fi --- a Nonsensical Poem

Computer science is abbreviated as "comp sci." Comp sci is so hard it gives you a sigh. Computing is everywhere in the world of sci-fi. Network is so prevalent these days you can't get by without a wi-fi. When I said so to a Scotsman, all he said was "aye." He's such a jolly, handsome, agreeable, but sometimes nervous guy. He's a sincere, honest, and serious person, and never tells a lie. One weakness he has is that when he's with a girl, he gets shy. As a student he worked part-time working in a pigsty. After getting used to the smelly pigs, he learned to work with them under a clear, blue sky. At the end of work each day, he cheerfully says to the pigs goodbye. Once he came up with an idea of a prank, and he entered into the pigsty on the sly. The hay and everything else there was really dry. Usually they ought to be slightly wet, and he wondered why. Maybe it was because of something done by an international spy. That, he thought, was something nobody can ever deny. My Scots friend was so poor he had a hard time in getting by. There was even a time he was so desperate that when I talked to him he didn't even reply. I was so shocked at his destitute state I could not help but cry. At the sight of my response, he could not help but say, "Oh, my!" My Scottish friend once lived very far and decided to live nigh. Near his new place was a little shop that sold everything made of rye. He bought a splendid piece of bread there on the Fourth of July. There he also bought something he always wanted to give me: an apple pie. He just had to give all that to me although there was a risk of oversupply. He also thought the merchandise looked so delicious he thought it was a good buy. When he came to my place with that small gifts, I was with a Thai. And also, I was wearing what I usually don't wear: a beautiful tie. It was so brilliant something came flying to my tie, and I realized it was something I don't care for very much: a fly. Right at that moment, somebody I never expected slowly came by. The stranger looked wicked, with a crooked mouth, and with an evil eye. My Scottish friend, my Thai friend, and I together got into a fight with the wicked guy. Then my final punch gave him a black eye. The crooked man left immediately, without any intention again to drop by. He uttered a word just before leaving, but I don't think he had anything to imply. He was some Westerner doing some business with a gangster in Shanghai.