From: cdale@silly.techmonkeys.net
Date: Tue Sep 12 2000 - 13:09:34 PDT
My daddy's always sendin me these things....good that I can send em out
once in a while (:
"A civilized society is one which tolerates eccentricity to the point of doubtful sanity."
-- Robert Frost
---------- Forwarded message ----------
Date: Wed, 10 Mar 1999 23:07:28 -0600
From: DON DALE <DDALE3@DIGISCAPE.COM>
To: 1-Mike Dale <drmbd10442@aol.com>
Subject: Ain't love grand ... Southern style
A ROMANTIC POEM
Kudzu is green, my dog's name is Blue. And I'm so lucky to have a
sweet thang
like you. Yore hair is like cornsilk, a-flappin' in the breeze.
Softer than
Blue's, and without all them fleas.
You move like the bass, which excites me in May. You ain't got no
scales,
but
I luv you anyway. You're as graceful as okry, jist a dancin' in
the pan.
Yore
as fragrant as SunDrop, right out of the can.
You have all yore teeth, for which I am proud; I hold my head high
when
we're
in a crowd. On special occasions, when you shave yore armpits,
well I'm in
hawg heaven! Plumb outta my wits!
And speakin' of wits, you've got plenty fer shore. 'Cuz you
married me,
back
in '74. Still them fellers at work, they all want to know, What I
did to
deserve such a purty, young doe.
Like a good roll of duct tape, yore there fer yore man, to patch
up life's
troubles, and stick 'em in the can. Yore as strong as a
four-wheeler,
racin'
through the mud, yet fragile as that sanger, named Naomi Judd.
Yore as cute as a junebug, a-buzzin' overhead. You ain't mean like
no far
ant,
upon which I oft' tread. Cut from the best pattern, like a flannel
shirt
of
plaid, you sparked up my life, like a rattletrap shad.
When you hold me real tight, like a padded gunrack, my life is
complete;
ain't
nuttin I lack. Yore complexion, it's perfection, like the best
vinyl
sidin'.
Despite all the years, yore age, it keeps hidin'.
And when you get old, like a '57 Chevy. I won't put you on blocks
and let
grass grow up heavy. Me 'n' you's like a Moon Pie, with a RC cold
drank.
We
go together, like a skunk goes with stank.
Some men, they buy chocolate, for Valentine's Day; They git it at
Wal-Mart;
it's romantic that way. Some men git roses on that special day,
from the
cooler at Kroger; "that's impressive," I say.
Some men buy fine diamonds, from a flea market booth. "Diamonds
are
forever,"
they explain, suave and couth. But for this man, honey, these will
not do.
For you are too special, you sweet thang you. I got you a gift,
without
taste
nor odor, Better than diamonds; It's a new trollin' motor!
--
SAVE OUR PRESIDENT! LEGALIZE PERJURY!
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