Carrie Has A Treat For The Season
Carrie, from the Moon Connection, has a wonderful seasonal poem for us.
How appropriate for this time of year!
Hi Everyone,
With fall upon us, and the days getting shorter, I thought you all would appreciate this superb, evocative, masterfully penned ode to the coming winter season.
So, grab a coffee, a comfortable chair, relax and scroll down to enjoy the warm feelings and pleasure that this wonderful poem will bring...
" ODE TO WINTER "
A poem by Abigail Elizabeth McIntyre
"SHIT, It's Cold!"
The End
posted by Tramp at
Wednesday, October 25, 2006
6 Comments:
Only shit thats been sitting a while is cold.
It's a condition called hypoothermia.
I think the condition is best explained in the Book of Defecations.
Chapter 1, Verse 2.
And when thou hath gorged thy gullet with grains and fruits, a sense of evacuation from thy bowel
must surely calleth thee. Heed mine words as truth and follow them as the law of the land.
Taketh in hand thine scroll to a barren tract of land. Scratcheth the Earth as to form
a depression that shall contain what thou must bring forth. Lo, ye shall squat and readeth
thine scroll. If thou labors as to bring forth tears on thy cheek, thou must surely fill thy
gullet with more grains. And if in doing so brings upon thee no comfort, thou may seek
the magnesia milk of the one they call Phillip. And if upon squatting there comes forth
a thunderous rumble that sprays thine precious Earth with an ocean of brown spitter-spatticus,
thou must surley consume more cheese with thine wine. Lo, I shall fall upon ye ears words
of great wisdom. What substance thou hast brought forth is vile and evil. For I have bestowed upon
your creation a wretched stench so that ye shall not seek glory in your deeds. It shall scarcley contain life upon birth and will perish shortly thereafter from hypoothermia. Lay down thy scroll and take in hand a leaf of the fig. Cleanse thee oh sphinctor with leaf in hand. And if a finger should break through thy leaf upon cleansing, speak not of this. As they amoung you will muse that it was the closest thou hast cometh to a piece of ass in one hundred, hundred days. And great shame will sweep over thee. Thou must pull the precious Earth back upon thy castings which thou hast created. For no one shall cast their eyes upon or step in what ye have brought forth. Take in hand
many spriggs of myrrh. Move thy arm swiftly in a to and fro motion so that thou may sweeten
thy surroundings from the wretched stench that lingers.
Would that not be from the book of John?
Didn't the Book of John deal with pimps?
Well, it sounded better than 'The Book Of Toilet'!
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