Wednesday, May 19, 2010

Mama’s Replacement


Mama, Mind your tongue!

How can you say such horrid

things about my wife?


Ugly women may have her

as their queen, but the reason

I married her – she reminded

me of you.


My fortunate life – My love is

my wife.


You don't believe it Mama?


Well then, go away! Make

tracks before I toss you out!

Torment us no more,

Not now, not tomorrow.

Never again will you

enter our home.


Seek glory (faded as it

may be) elsewhere.

Mama, you've lost your title

to my wife.


The reasons are many that she's

the love of my life, but her

glory (aside from her ugly) is

your past glory Mama, (she

came into it late and took it with

a vengeance).


She is my wife, the Reigning Queen of the Belch.

Wednesday, May 12, 2010

Ultimate Vacation

"You got a tanning booth

on board ship?"

She asked


 

Sailing to Hawaii

to lay on the beach -

She needed a tan;

couldn't look like

all the other first

timers.


 

Had to look like

she belonged,

lived the life,

loved the sun.


 

Every day she tanned -

for weeks before.

Every day on board

the Hawaiian Crown.


 

"New bulbs today, they're

strong" said the cute girl with

the bleached white teeth

and dark luscious tan.

"Do you want the full ten minutes?"


 

"Of course," she said

"I have to be tan to tan

on the beach."

Miss cutie just rolled her eyes.


 

Last day on board she stayed in

her cabin taking tea baths and

slathering Noxema all over to cool

down the burn.


 

No tan in the sun on

the sand by the sea.

She stayed in bed for a week.

She flew back with pink skin

dotted with blisters, and threw

a look of disgust at


 

"We hope you enjoyed your

stay in Hawaii" said by the

stewardess with straight

white teeth and beach

blond hair.

Thursday, May 6, 2010

City Slickers

A fun way to write! Try a word loop; the last word of the sentence is the first word of the next one. Try something different. It may spark your mind to creativity.


 

City slickers have once again invaded the dude ranch. Ranch, not a bleepin' Holiday Inn where they put mints on pillows. Pillows they will soon need for their tender ass behinds. Behinds that bounce and wiggle in our fine leather saddles, jiggling kept to a minimum however by too tight jeans. Jeans just bought, not even washed to go along with their too new cowboy boots that'll give 'em blisters to beat the band. Band together with their warrior cry, as they head down the trail pretending to be comfortable and at ease in a situation that is so far out of their league.


 

League of yuppies that pretend to be well rounded. Rounded minds they say are the key to success and a higher wage. Wage a bet they don't know how to build, much less start a campfire. Campfire coffee a far cry from their latte's and mocha chocha delights. Delights come to us, the real cowboys, as bandanas are used to wipe sweat and horse manure off brow and once shinny boot. Boot 'em out at the end of a week that has tired their hearts, blistered their butts and chaffed their tender lovin' chaps. Chaps they've shared with other aspiring bronc busters, others, who want to rough it, try their hand at roping and wrestling steers. Steers that have other things in mind; such as finding the appropriate moment to step on a foot. Foot, head, ribs, all can be broken – easily on a city slicker. Slicker than snot they're thrown by the bronco, billowing dust settles as wives and husbands gasp then snicker with forced concern.


 

Concern not only for their spouse, but will this end the week or a loss of deposit, a broken leg to show off? Off with the cowboy hat to inspect a bump. Bump to bump, head to toe. Toe the line you fancy boys, girls, pretenders, hike up your spirit, leave it all behind – your city.