When hard times come they sit a spell,
Like kin folk come to stay
A-packin' troubles, pets an' kids
That always get ‘n your way.
It's drought an' flood, an' flood an' drought,
There ain't much in-between.
You work like hell to make ’em good,
But still they’re sorta lean.
The ranch went under late last year,
The drought got mighty tough.
The boss held-out a long, long time,
But finally said, "enough!"
So here I am dispatchin’ cops
An’ watchin’ felons sleep,
In Junction, at the county jail,
A job I’ll prob’ly keep.
The wife, she works at Leisure Lodge,
Where older people stay,
A-makin’ beds an’ moppin’ floors
To earn some ‘extra’ pay.
Though “extra pay‘s” the term I used,
It goes to payin’ rent,
An’ after all the bills are paid,
We wonder where it went.
We hocked my saddle, guns an' chaps,
An' then our weddin' rings;
Then when we couldn't pay the loan,
They sold the 'dad-blamed' things.
We felt real bad a day or two
But then we let it go,
Cause it got Christmas for the kids
When money got real slow.
When hard times come they sit a spell,
Don't matter who you are;
They'll cost ya things you've set aside,
An' clean your cookie jar.
You'll loose some sleep an' worry some,
Won't pay to moan an' groan;
But hang on to your happiness,
They'll finally leave ya 'lone.
Sunrise against my neck
that no cheap tan booth could ever match.
I ring the doorbell in anticipation of joy’s injection.
I needed it.
Because I left my cell phone in the car,
as I didn’t want to hear any chimed email
or text annoyances.
And the car just got cleaned,
only for the birds to have their way
on its waxy shine.
Time to grab the flamethrower from my trunk!
But, before I could scream in Braveheart declaration,
there she was.
Her 6 yr old smile,
made of 1/4 inch gaps between innocence enamel,
captured me like no other could.
“Tio”, she preached in angelica sonata.
As she held me,
with puppy love warmth.
Even the rainbows fell to its knees.
She took off my jacket with ferret-like perkiness and
asked me to sit on the floor with her.
But, not before offering to toast me some Eggo waffles
with a big glass of Ovaltine…
…in her Little Mermaid glass,
proudly made in North Korea.
It even had the dictator’s initials and a bucktooth smiley face stamp, signed in glitter
Thank God I just took my online course in Child Safety.
I was ready!
As I sip on Little Mermaid’s curves,
shaped in plastic, swirly straw weirdness,
a sound blasts off from a Barbie radio.
My 2 yr old angel galloped into this heart of mine,
with Tinnitus piercing scream & laughter,
tackling me in Incredible Hulk lunge.
“Hi Tio”, she whispered, before she hopped back upstairs,
laughing maniacally with rapid head tilts, left to right to left.
Boys will fear her.
And I couldn’t be more proud.
After two moments of silence,
my 6 yr old angel places her Dr. Seuss book on my lap,
as she sits in front of me.
“I can r-r-read
with my eye-s
She carefully completed the sentence,
as my eyes instantly fill with leaky pride
and an ingrained smile.
10 minutes later, she shut her book and asked me how she did.
“I am so proud of you my angel.”
“You have come so far.”
I had to hold back tears because I didn’t want to throw her off.
Yet I think she knew,
because she kept her head down and smiled with gentle starburst.
And it was then where I heard her say,
“Those who matter don’t mind,
those who mind don’t matter.”
But she was quiet, looking at me with tilted head & smile.
For it was my inner child,
© Drake J. Eszes
When my time is done and I am finally laid to rest
I don’t want to be recalled as one who lived life depressed
So as I wrote my will, I chose to leave an instruction
That laughing gas be inhaled by all those at the function
No mournful eulogies will a pastor have to invent
For my funeral will be held under a circus tent
When dozens of clowns emerge from the tiny Volkswagen
Reams of my silly limericks Bozo will be dragin’
And as they’re read aloud, family and friends who knew me best
Will say, “She had a sense of humor, this we can attest.”
Mimes will mimic me trying to write the world’s best novel
As my corpse hangs from the trapeze, surely they will marvel
Laughter will ensue as they shoot me from the cannon
Flying high in my demise across the great Grand Canyon
All the children will smile and there’ll be no tears allowed
So no one will ever remember me as a “dark cloud”
There are people who seem to take life way too seriously
When I meet my Maker, don’t view this as a tragedy
Dad called me his “happy girl,” so let me go out that way
I want to leave them laughing as I reach my judgment day
So I walked into my local supermarket
to buy my weekly shipment of Kit Kat bars,
Cinnamon Toast Crunch,
and Ovaltine powder mix.
As I shake off the snow on my fake Timberland boots,
coated in frozen animation,
thaws into warmth’s teardrops from
the supermarket’s 75 degree vents.
This moist sense of happiness was quickly interrupted
when I heard Wilson Phillips, “Hold On”
over the PA system.
Thankfully, the cutlery isle was just to my left.
So, now, I had plans!
But, before I could commit felony’s song,
I saw her.
A Portuguese goddess
with a strut that can ruin a man’s dignity.
She had Autobahn curves,
dark brown curls of hair & visuals,
and thick flesh meat that even Vegans would envy.
Her face lacked Maybelline coated misapprehension.
Cause I never did like clowns.
After staring longingly at her,
like a crack head with impulsive eyes upon a broken/unlabeled bag of baby powder,
she breezed past my stifled posture and clocked in to work.
She didn’t even get a chance to smell my $500 cologne called “Piece of Me”.
So with new-found urges to grab all my groceries,
like a burglar who really has to pee,
I rush to express checkout.
There she is.
Her register beeps in coupon lady’s rhapsody,
while my register needs a cleanup on Isle 9.
Now it’s my turn.
With girlish inner-screams of boy-band intensity,
I say, “Hi”.
She scans my apples, while I scan her melons.
The melons that the customer ahead of me didn’t want…
…they were on sale.
As if she read my mind,
“Are you feeling warm now?”
“All I want is to be the heat in your moment”,
which I almost said.
But, “Now I am”, is uttered.
As she smiled with seductive demure,
she handed me my receipt
with her phone number on back.
As I left the market,
I began to get cold again.
These winds of change
became gusts of numbness.
I locked myself out of my heart.
I turned around to go back inside.
Only to discover,
she didn’t have the key.
© Drake J. Eszes
I do not know?
A foggy Cuervo morning
I crawl out of my bed
Stagger to the bathroom
With a pounding in my head
It’s just another Sunday
Things can’t get much worse
I think i’ll write a poem
Yes, another drunken verse
Tiny glass of 80 proof
What courage you gave me
To dance upon a table
While crooning karaoke
I truly thought that I could sing
I could hear the people cheer
Then I lost my footing
And fell right on my rear
Now falling off of tables
Isn't really all that dumb
Cause I got such a chuckle
Telling everyone to kiss my bum
I kissed a man I didn’t know
You think that’s absurd
Well his wife was rather angry
When I flipped her the big ol bird
When Jose takes control of me
I have no pride or shame
Doesnt really matter much
Cause no one knows my name
I drank until the wee hours
Things were going great
Until that final shot of gold
That sealed my eveings fate
I spent some time talking
On a ice cold porceline phone
If I survive this night
Tomorrow I will atone
Well today is tomorrow
So forgive me for my sin
Never again will I drink tequila
Instead I’m drinking gin
He stands upon the salty,slippery deck,
Yelling yaargh matey ,
with a halfhearted pirate drawl.
He's not to impressed with himself,
not an eyepatch or wooden leg,
not even a hooked claw.
The parrot on his shoulder,
is a wannabee,
a sparrow that fell from the Crowsnest,
from high up above.
It has no quips ,or spikes,
or pirate quotes,
just nesting on his shoulder
with birdly kind of love.
Aye captain the crew responds,
snapping to their chores.
Tend the wheel ,lash the mainsail,
take the soundings
less we hit a reef.
The sea going life is not for every man,
walking the plank,storms and rickets.
Crabs in your knickers ,
really give you grief.
Aah but when the wind fills the sails to bursting,
yards of canvas strain to be free.
And the ropes play ,sea going music
of a tension melody.
A song that captures
every young buccaneers heart ,
and soul and fancy.
For the music of the wanderers life,
an endless expanse of blue,
bravehearts and fearless men find,
quite a bit too chancy.
Black Beard,Yellow Beard,
the famous Captain Blood,
were all fearless pirates of their day.
He truly knows that he can be,
a great one too.
If he could ever find that bleeping map,
and escape this landlocked bay.
Sweet and Sour hectic sign
Love me, trust me, the stars align
Balance of truth and dare
Good and Evil, full of care
Blind when it comes to blood line
He served as a deacon in his church and was as pious as they come.
(But on the side, he sold whiskey from a thirty-gallon drum!)
He taught the junior high Sunday school class and was a Bible scholar.
(But on the side, he 'stilled moonshine way back up in the holler!)
He was faithful in tithing ten percent of his ill-gotten gain.
(For his John Barleycorn he used only the best obtainable grain!)
He occupied the same pew every Sunday listening with attentive ear.
(It was rumored about that he also brewed some very potent beer!)
He proffered an "amen" at appropriate times and wore a suit and tie.
(He was renowned throughout the county for his very delectable rye!)
His tenor voice blended well when singing, "I Love Thy Kingdom, Lord."
(On back roads he did a bit of bootlegging in his hopped-up V-8 Ford!)
He was the first to offer succor to widows, orphans and others left bereft.
(He'd run his still for years - at evading "revenooers" he was very deft!)
When folks were needed to serve on committees he was first to volunteer.
(When asked his occupation he replied, "I'm a 'Spirit'ual Engineer!")
At Yuletide he was generous with the preacher giving him a beef, cash and pork.
(At the annual church picnic he surreptitiously passed a bottle to uncork!)
There couldn't be found a finer saint in all of Boondock County, Kentucky.
(He'll continue to "minister" to parched throats thereabouts - if he's lucky!)
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(© All Rights Reserved)
Won First Place in the April 2011 Soup International Contest - September 2011
First Place in Paula Swanson's "Fill In The Blanks" Contest - June 2010
My butt crack
Is quite a split
It supports the rest of me
when I sit
you thought I was gonna say something else didn't you ?
My butt crack
Is a marvel to behold
It was cute when I was young
but now offensive since I'm old
My butt crack
Is pretty darn straight
can you imagine if it was crooked
pretty weird sight I would rate
My butt crack
Is funny to me
when I bend over in my jeans
It peeks out
for you to see
My butt crack
wanted me to write this today
for no other reason
then just to say......................
I gotta split
Eric (and sometimes not)
Love was in the air when he laid eyes on her.
Childhood; elementary and even high school with her.
Walking towards her, he greeted her.
Anxiety spiraled as he hugged her.
Conversation grew deeper as he sat with her.
Wanting to get closer because he was falling for her.
Another woman called pausing the time he was having with her.
Knowing he had to answer; he stepped away and spoke to her.
She stated that something wasn't quite right with her.
She said that her stomach had been bothering her.
Now he's thinking back if he came inside her.
Thinking if she lied to him about her tubes being tied within her.
Does he blame himself for listening to her?
Knowing right from wrong and yet he can't blame her.
Does he blame the devil for allowing him to be intimate with her?
Is he not a human that makes mistakes just like her?
Begging God to make a way for him and her.
Asking God to forgive him for committing the sin with her.
God said, "relax my son, you were only dreaming of her."
There once was a man from Niagara
whose wiener's so long it would stab ya'
but when it got little
his pills became skittles
until he O.D.'d on Viagra
© ~JSLambert 2011*****A classic "stiff" competitor, standing "firm" amongst other "members" in the "thick" of the competition:) hope everyone gets "a rise" out of it!
Oklahoma cowboy, tough coal miner’s son
Born in Henryetta, south of Tulsa some
Raised by daddy’s momma, taught him wrong from right
Daddy taught him ropin’, taught him how to fight
Herding made no money, its stock was really down
Mamaw feeling poorly, dad mining at Old Town
December seventeenth, in the year of twenty-nine
Dad was shoring timber, 9th west entry of the mine
The gas ignited close to him, he never smelt its breath
It belched out fire and thunder, and everlasting death
Sixty-one they counted, who wouldn’t see the sun
Twenty-five weren't recognized, they buried them as one
On that fatal Tuesday, the boy became a man
Had to make a living, had to have a plan
Heard about the oil patch, got a chance to try it
Drill the earth for all she’s worth; keep it turnin' to the right
Some they called him weevil, some they called him worm
Some they wouldn't speak to him, figgered he was just short term
They told him "Open up that vee door; go to get the key
It's in the possum belly, in doghouse number three"
Took his turns at floor hand, at first a little green
Became the fastest broke out hand the driller ever seen
Morning tour, evening tour, working day and night
Drilled the earth for all she's worth, kept it turnin' to the right
The driller called him partner; the pusher called him son
The other roughnecks shook his hand, and took him in as one
Got up on the monkeyboard; learned to spin the chain
Pumped that mud and shed his blood, and worked right through the pain
On a bitter frosty evening tour, in a cold December snow
He saw derricks lit like Christmas trees in distance far below
He saw the fairyland of the refinery, shining through the night
He saw Mother Earth and the universe, all turning to the right
The oil patch was a hard life, moving all the time
But he saved a lot of money, didn't waste a dime
Morning tour, evening tour, working day and night
Drilled the earth for all she's worth, kept it turnin' to the right
Sent his kids to college, working through the years
One became a teacher, the others engineers
He hung up his hardhat; he shed his steel-toed shoes
Then one day he passed away; he'd finally paid his dues
Made it to the Pearly Gates; they handed him his wings
Handed 'em right back to them; said "I don't need these things.
I want to do some drilling. That's my heavenly plan."
They said "Go talk to the Devil then, cause he's the company man."
Old Scratch needed hellfire; he always come up short
Too many politicians and others of that sort
When he heard they had a driller, he jumped up with delight
He danced a jig, "You've got your rig. Keep it turnin' to the right."
Now he drills for hellfire; in the derrick he's got Jake
Buck and Sam on the platform; Sonny's on the brake
They all grin like demons; they're all where they belong
Doing what they love to do, they sing their roughneck song
"We all eat caliche and drink the devil's brew
Play dominos with Satan and skunk him at forty-two
Work all day on Sunday and honky-tonk all night
We're oilfield trash and we'll take cash to keep it turnin' to the right
We all love West Texas; it's like the Promised Land
Horny toads and rocky roads, and even dunes of sand
Dust storms every morning, northers every night
We get tans and freeze our cans to keep it turnin' to the right"
The lingo used around the rig you won't hear much in church
It'll curl your hair and make you stare and leave you in the lurch
So close your eyes and realize it's gonna get much worse
Drink your beers and plug your ears; here comes the final verse
"We p*ss longneck Lone Stars; we f*rt Frito pie
Give us ****, and we will spit some Red Man in your eye
Don't **** with us, or we will cuss and bring you to the fight
We're low class, but we kick *** to keep it turning to the right"
Coal mining, oil drilling and Hell - Doesn't get much darker and deeper...
This year I turned the big ‘5-0’
And my body is acting strange
So I went to see the doctor who said
Not to worry, as I was going through ‘the change.’
“Is there anything I can take?” I asked
He replied, “There’s HRT
But I don’t believe in prescribing it,
Let’s try to deal with this naturally!”
You could have knocked me backwards
And I thought, all well and good for him
It wasn’t his raging hormones
Making him feel like a stranger within
He doesn’t get narked, by the little things
That before would go over his head
Or wake up at night, in a lather of sweat
And have to get up to change his bed
It isn’t him having palpitations
Which make you feel like you’re going to die
It’s not him, who feels angry one moment
And the next as if he could cry
He’s not lapsing in concentration
Or feels like he’s his losing his mind,
Because he put the milk in the washing machine
And it took him an hour to find!
It isn’t he who keeps feeling so crap
When a ‘monthly’ is missed or comes late
And I bet he never just has to look at food
In order for him to gain weight!
He’s not always taking medicine for thrush
Or constantly needing to pee
So I bet he’d be first to pop the pills
If it was him going through this, not me
So I looked at him and said “I’ll give it a go
But I don’t really hold much hope”
And walked out of his surgery, feeling as though
I could have hung him with some rope!
But off I went and months have gone past
Of getting worse doing - ‘naturally,’
So I’ve made an appointment with a lady doc
Who might take pity, and prescribe ‘HRT.’
out to place
it back in and
it seems as though I can't get any out.
to place it back
in, yet, no luck in getting any out.
form of Pleasure,
taking off the lid and using plastic.
to drink my milk-
shake using a straw but a spoon will do.
Princess just wants a new car.
I have told her that hers will go far.
'Oh, it's really not cool
driving this crap to school.'
'Do I need that emotional scar? '
'The kids will all laugh at the rust.
When we race, I'll be left in the dust!
I will save up some cash
then we'll make a mad dash
to the car dealer surely you trust'.
'He will make us a wonderful deal
and I'm sure you will know how I feel.
I will love you so much,
My siblings... I won't touch.
Just get me behind a new wheel'!
Now she'll be cruisin in style.
She'll be happy for only awhile.
There will always be better
and we'll try hard to get her
a car that will make princess smile.
Oh laundry, how relentless you are in this house,
It’s as if I were a polygamist’s spouse.
By: Sabina Nicole
Got home awound twee (I was dwunk as a wouse)
Awose pwomptly at five wit' dwy cotton-mouth
I knew wather soon my day was gonna' bwow
When I stwuggled outta' bed and stubbed my wight toe
Fwopped back on the mattwess cwying and twitchin'
Staggoid back up and wimped to the kitchen
Stumbled to the counter to bwew Folger's bwend
Spiwwed it down my Hanes and boint my widdle fwend
Hobbled to the bathwoom to wustle up some Tums
Twipped on my fwip-fwop and bwuised my weft bun
Should not have cawoused wit' owe Bugsey wast night
Now my head hoits and de wight is too bwight
If I had not dwunk gin for my mowale booster
I coulda' swept in trew 'dat wascally wooster
(Don't feel wike wunning dat siwwy wat-wace
Tink I might caw in sick at the Woony-Tune pwace)
***Inspired by quote #4 in Giorgio's contest
Tim Wyerson wote dis (Tim Ryerson)
"It was 6 or 7 years ago
Or so I'd like to think
I traveled to my eye doctor..
(I should'a seen a "shrink"!!)
My dad and I we awaited
In a filled up waiting room
Patients all a'seat
Magazines all askew
There wasn't much to say there
There wasn't much to do...
Slowly I did notice
Some odd glances made at me...
Some hand-covered conversations...
Some smirks I seemed to see
It made me feel self-conscious
They seemed fixed looking at me in my seat
When slowly I did realize...
That they were staring at my feet...
I looked down, and to my horror
And much to my surprise...
A sight I could not fathom...
I could not believe my eyes!!!
For one foot was well fitted
with tennis sneaker white...
The other a black dress shoe
It was a startling sight!!!
Now I found how hard it was
to hide one's mismatched feet
I wished to God to run out
And escape onto the street
I was red with great embarrassment
and shocked how stupid I could be!
Had I been that darn sleepy?
Or could I just not see?
Then it slowly dawned on me,
Well, darn it, here I sit....
Proves I need an eye-doctor...
and I don't give a sh__......."
Sticky smears on the table top.
on the couch spilled soda pop
one chewed up shoe and one flip-flop
I’m doomed to clean this mess non-stop
Greasy dog bones gone astray
found buried in the rug today
the hamster made a getaway
where he’s gone it’s hard to say.
The shower drain is plugged, I swear
the tub has grout and needs repair
dirty laundry everywhere.
it really is a mess out there.
Under beds dust bunnies show
all closets are on overflow
the fridge is packed with things that grow
dishes clog the sink, I know.
Spaghetti sauce dumped on the floor
12 eggs broke, need I say more
fingerprints on every door
this place, a never-ending chore
Just when I think things can’t get worse
the leaking fish tank cracked and burst
40 gallons was dispersed
I think this house is cursed.
In every corner, ledge and groove
dirt and grim must be removed
there’s one solution I approve
pack your things, we’re going to move!
Liz Relly – 3/06/2012
“Cobwebs and Dust” Contest (new start)
God’s Cleansing Tool
Cloud-Concerto… How Cool !
Plop-Plop Plopping into Pothole Pools
On the Grass, Pavements and On My Own-Sweet- Fools…
who, don’t have Sense enough, to get out of the Rain…
… I think I’ll go Join Them… Again
And I walk
across numerical figments
speaking hyperbole dialect to their imaginations.
Numb, blocky gaps
whisper invitation to secret club.
Enticing my stature
to become exponent’s side-kick.
So they can welcome me with open arms.
Coating my digits with inoperable tumors
double-knotted in hot pink laced bow
and baby-breath scent.
They even left a Walmart Rollback smiley face sticker
with crack residue on right cheek
and a comic-style bubble caption, “welcome home puppet”.
This is exactly how Mother 1 told me it would be.
Kinda like marriage,
but less detail-oriented.
But, I could never fit in.
For I am neither positive
about their (cult) ural ways.
Timing would always be off.
An arm from the clock that suffered a stroke at Midnight…
They’d never understand,
how they’d alter this unevenly, odd numerical figment.
For they’ll just calculate,
my sum with rusty protractor.
This Zero, into a fraction...
© Drake J. Eszes
3 polished oak fans,
Swirling in robotic unison
High maintenance socialites,
Sipping on Merlot fallacies
Lemon yellow coated walls,
Like their smiles
Comparisons of dangling Porsche & Bentley keys
A glorified day care center,
The muted virtuosos speak softly in hymn dialects.
Courtesy laughter in snob’s octave
Their heads twitching side to side,
Left to right to left
An equilibrium facing assault charges against self
They slow dance to cello dreams
And E minor dividends
Two-step monotone, sway
Against platinum lacquer foundations
But, it was then.
These same socialites,
Made of recycled candle wax
And rubberized, hedge-fund confidence,
Began to stare longingly at the party host’s 70 inch plasma TV
Proudly imported from China
“Attention uptight snobs of Mecca!
The city zoo has imploded!
The monkeys revolted!
The zebras were tired of being racially profiled!
Run for your LIV…!”
And before the reporter’s frightened inner child could finish’s his clause,
An elephant crashes into the decadent room
Filled with Crisp linen scents of Febreze & judgmental fear
It stares at the socialites,
Laughing heartedly as it playfully stomps away into constellation’s onyx night
As tears waterfall from the snobs’ sobbing eye sockets
As if they just listened to another Celine Dion song
The real newsflash
Metaphors played hooky today
©Drake J. Eszes
In a small town there lived a little lady
The lady`s name was Lucinda
Lucinda was always bubbling, cheerful and happy
When she laughed here rolling laughter,
both her cheeks and bosom shaked
She was a beautiful woman with wide hips,
and a butt as big as a dinner table
Lucinda was old and walking was difficult
and life was not so easy for her
She had not so much in this world,
but she always brought a bicycle
Everyone in the small town would help her
as best they could
Whatever you did for her, she thanked with these words:
"You shall have my old bike when I die"
Following the bubbling laughter, shaking cheeks and bosom
Everyone in the small town knew Lucinda,
loved her and wanted to help her
Same thanks every time:
"You shall have my old bike when I die"
Now Lucinda is dead
Her bike the city has received as a gift from Lucinda
If you see a bike in the flower park in the small town
Is it to remind the beloved sweet, rolling round Lucinda
that was always cheerful and happy
A-L Andresen :)
Copyright © All Rights Reserved
On entering this contest I have to admit
The fame it will bring me when I push "submit"
Is all that I'm after - my name in bright lights
The kind of attention I earned with my writes.
I used to get noticed for walking in late
To school, then to jobs, and even for dates
My family picked up on my one loud defect
And thought they could fix me - no disrespect.
They told me that dinner would be served at five
When seven was really the time to arrive
Two hours they gave me to help cure the curse
But of course I found out and the problem got worse.
Right now I'm supposed to be cleaning my room
Instead, I am writing, ignoring the broom
My shrink says that tardiness is a cry for attention
I'll clean my room later for an honorable mention.
So you want to get to know me, ok, well here goes.
Most of it's in my poetry, but I may have left something out, who knows?
For the last twenty years, I've been wearing Nike high tops that are black.
They're alot easier to clean then white ones, that is a definite fact.
My friends all seem to like me, and I greet them all with a big smile.
I've met alot of them through a life of partying, but now thats been over for awhile.
My favorite book is the bible, because whenever I read it I learn something new.
My favorite movie I couldn't really tell you, since I have seen oh, quite a few.
My favorite song is from Tim McGraw, it's "Live Like You Were Dying"
In a funny kind of way it refreshes my soul, and I usually end up crying.
Favorite singer I don't really have one, so I guess it would have to be myself.
Because I just love it when I sing all the words, and don't need anyones help.
My hair is a dirty blond thats straight,short and very fine.
It doesn't have a single curl, and I know it's all still mine.
My favorite shampoo is Pert, it leaves my hair so silky smooth.
With the fine and thining hair that I have, it's the one I prefer to use.
My favorite food is pizza, but fresh baked bread is my favorite smell.
If I had a food I'd eat everyday, that is the one that would put me through hell.
I have everything I need,with only a few things that I dislike.
The only thing I want or really need, is the love of my loving wife.
Contest:All About ____???
eyes of deepest blue
lips sweet as maple syrup...
his dog loves him too
How is it that I
Can forget the objective
Before I get there?
No, I'm not a senior (not even close) so I don't have any excuse for this dilemma!
The blend of colors enlightens her day when she decides to embrace them;
She loves various colors which bring alive a girl’s eyes;
Each color depicts the triumph of beauty from within that is eager to fly more than twice;
The charisma of colors vitalizes one’s surrounding being a priceless gem.
Surveying around, she picks her Jimmy Choo;
Picking up her Chanel bag she appreciates her labor of love;
Then she looks at her sister to Shoo;
She knows that materialism and spiritualism is hard work from blessing above.
All the nuts fell to the ground
The sane ones on branches hang
Long line from many countries
My family tree
I've been shoved out in the back yard,
A bit ruff, don't you agree?
It's not that I've disgraced myself,
No,It's because SHE caught a flea!
Don't know what all the fuss is about,
I mean they don't bother me.
Any way I need the exercise,
It's a great way to have a good scratch.
Those crafty little blighters
They get right under my thatch.
I like to chase 'em out
To see how many I can catch.
I grabs 'em and bites 'em
And has my bit of fun.
When they see these gnashers,grrr,
You should see them try to hop and run.
Oh! there's one,oh! there's one,
Oh! there's another one.
He-llo!what's going on here then?
Aaarghh! that stuffs awful,smells really bad.
Oy, watch where you're spraying!
If you don't mind,I still want'a be a dad!
Sometimes these humans just don't care.
They drive me barking mad.
Howoooo, I'm fed up with all this palaver
I can't stand all this strife--.
Hang on-time to be 'mummies darling'.
Here comes his soppy wife.
The things you have to do to make them happy.
It really is a dog's life!
Palaver-fuss or bother