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Showing posts from May, 2000

A POEM ABOUT REAL LOVE

POEM ABOUT REAL LOVE

When the full moon transits Venus,
Is when I start dreaming of gator Penis,
Only in fall when leaves are golden,
Doing hucklebuck like in days of olden.

[still with me?]

Now I'm running with tights so loose,
The guys whistle seeing my lips of moose,
A welcome change from hee-haws,
Yes! I'm past menopause.

[I'm on a roll! So spread me!!!]

When days are chilly I'll eat clam chowder,
Unadulterated by soy powder,
No rigid veg can give me heat,
Like a hot foot-long of gator meat.

Oh my, Oh me
I think I've got to pee.

---Lady Gee-Spot

Voices Carry From SO Far Away

So far from List I have been mopin',
I was unaware my account was still open.
And for all of you who've been waitin' [hopin'],
That Love's Cow-Poke has still been ropin'.

My house will be finished in just about three days more,
And from a great remove I hear the Listers roar,
The bottomless well of salt and more,
I heard a silent hand on My Heart's Door.

I told wise folks back in Philly,
I had my share of city-life [rilly!],
Now I feel like a fresh young lily,
Buyin' lotto tickets with Buck and Billy.

My House of Love, of much is said,
I have a second room--and a double bed,
And o'er the floor you'll gently tread,
And not disturb those getting Head.

But let me tell you of this I know,
For My FP tells me so,
I hear his whistle while I go,
Leaving golden tracks of yellow snow.

Gosh! I feel better already.

ORN: Avoided salt-trucks, dived into ditch. Maybe 4 miles tomorrow.

With Wuv, Lady Gee-Spot

Zane Grey Hi-Line 50/Mile 44/Cinerama Komedy

Image
(original post 2001, post-edits April 25, 2013)

Now this is probably what you were waiting for. If you get offended easily, please read to the end of the post and get your money's worth. As Bette Davis once might have said..."Unbunch your panties, it's gonna be a fun ride."

At the Friday Nite Pre-race, the BIC Lighters were going off, and runners were throwing their shorts on the stage as Linda and Geri went through the pre-race usual. Amidst the lurking Barking Ducks I could hear "FREE-BIRD!" and so on.

The race started on Saturday at 0500. Lucky for me, I was still in bed. Several hours later I woke up and made some French Roast and watched the Japanese fleet sink into the Coral Sea. Bummer for them, I had an aid-station to Krewe. I donned ritual garb of white coveralls, with nary a wrinkle or crinkle, and had a solemn vest with totemistic numbers therein, several iterations of "69". Photos do not lie, and Komedy is Not Pretty.

After a rendezvou…