Alas, it appears now that no one will be cashing in on my Weiner Hacker bounty. To reflect on this solemn occasion, I would like to offer a bit of poetry (with apologies to Percy Bysshe Shelley).
I read a hyperlink from a Twitter sage
Who said: "A vast and trunkless dick of stone
Stands in an archive. Near it on the page,
Half sunk, a shattered screencap lies, whose tone
And wrinkled pecs and leer of middle age
Tell that its subject kept that poontang rapt
Who yet discuss, in coed Facebook throngs,
The man who chased them and his hand that fapped.
And on the EXIF these words appear:
`My name is Weinermandius, Dong of Dongs:
Look on my junk, ye mighty, and despair!'
Nothing beside remains. Round the decay
Of that colossal bulge, manscaped and bare,
The lonely intertubes stretch far away."
