I guess that this roughly makes two months. Hooray for us! Good hustle team. Both Friday and Saturday nights, I slept at Burke's house. (For those who don't know Burke, just imagine in your head a large gay, Jewish frog.) While there I was reminded of why I love that man. It's not him at all. It's his parents. So Mama Skid, Chuck James... this one's for you...
The Gratitude Doth Spill from My Ears
I am the helpless acorn,
you planted in fertile soil.
I am the rusty El Camino.
you gave me motor oil.
I'll name all my children after you.
I don't care the danger or peril!
First I'll just have to wait and make sure,
That I'm not sterile.
To me ye've been like parents.
Loved me even when I was wild.
I'm not worthy to be your son!
Refer to me as the illegitimate child.
1,000 years locked in the mouse tower
won't change how I feel for you.
Without you in my life,
roses aren't red. The sea shineth not blue.
Mama Skid, Chuck James,
I'll never put you to shame.
I'd rather from goats be maimed.
You are the shining beacon of hope
to the blind.
You are the telepathy drug
that frees my mind.
Connie Chung ain't got nuthin on you girl.
YOU are the queen of the orient.
And you are no hanging, dangling Chad my friend;
You are money well spent.
Thus we arrive at the end of yet another week's fun fest. Due to a lack of knowledge on my part of valid e-mail addresses, I invite you all to pass along these poems to your loved ones, as well as those you hate. For these poems are both a blessing and a curse.
I would suggest starting with Week 1, and letting them decide whether or not they wish to continue (no such freedom of choice will be given to you all. I will continue sending those already placed on my list these weekly handfuls of poetic justice until the day you all die!!!!!!!!!HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!!!)