Thursday, December 11, 2008


I once loved the bachelor life. Now I need a wife to cook and clean, wash my clothes, sew and darn, warm my bed, butter my bread, slice my meat, wash my feet and clip my nails, listen to my tall tales of woe, grow old with me gracefully.

I need a miss to grant my wishes, wash the dishes, don't get fat, feed the cat, walk the dog, mow the grass, shovel snow, hear me when I'm low, wash my hair and underwear, jump in the sack without yakityyak, calm my nerves, have nice curves, serve me tea, light my cigarette, wipe me where I get wet, shine my shoes, darn my socks, check my stocks, wind my clocks.

I'm a big fat slob, got no job, steal, get caught, rot in jail if you fail to pay my bail. Don't give a damn, If on the lam serve me cookies, milk and jam while you lullaby me off to sleep, you Creep!

Now you no good so-and-so, powder your nose, comb your hair, wear clean underwear, we'll steal a car, go to Joe's Bar where the preacher waits to tie the knot. By the way, what's your name? I forgot. Thanks a lot!


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