A WOMAN'S POEM:
Before I lay me down to sleep,
I pray for a man, who's not a creep,
One who's handsome, smart and strong.
One who loves to listen long,
One who thinks before he speaks,
One who'll call, not wait for weeks.
I pray he's gainfully employed,
When I spend his cash, won't be annoyed.
Pulls out my chair and opens my door.
Massages my back and begs to do more.
Oh! Send me a man who'll make love to my mind,
Knows what to answer to "How big is my behind?"
I pray that this man will love me to no end,
And always be my very best friend.
A MAN'S POEM:
I pray for a deaf-mute gymnast nymphomaniac with huge boobs who owns a bar on a golf course, and loves to send me fishing and drinking. This doesn't rhyme, and I don't give a shit.
From my daughter. I'd been about to chide her for falling down on her job of supplying me with material, but she's back at work.
Heh.
ReplyDeleteI'll have to forward that along to a few people, thanks!
Bubs, I'm sure you meet all the criteria in the woman's poem, plus you have a sense of humor. Had I written the poem, I'd have included that in the list.
ReplyDeleteCooo-eee Girls.....Over here!
ReplyDeleteDP, when I read the poem, I thought immediately of you. Every woman needs a Doorman-Priest.
ReplyDeleteWhen I was a child we spent a holiday at St Just, near the SW tip of Cornwall. One evening, during dinner, my mother, who had spent part of the day sunbathing, rolled up a sleeve of her dress and asked "What are my arms like, boys?" My father replied "Hams".
ReplyDeleteThe remark was not received well.
You know, I can relate -- somewhat -- to both poems. Not to the details (no golf please, and I've got my own boobs) but to the sentiments.
ReplyDeleteI must be the perfect being. "Lol."
Re man's poem, I think my wife fits the bill - well in my dreams as she would say!
ReplyDeleteThe remark was not received well.
ReplyDeleteSurprise! Lapin, your father was beyond clueless.
I must be the perfect being. "Lol."
PJ, as I've already said, if you didn't exist, I'd have to invent you.
Paul, you're a lucky man - in your dreams.
Great stuff!
ReplyDeleteStrangely enough, 45 years later, when I next dared mention the incident to my mother (who was, of course, spectacularly PO'd at the time - my shrieks of laughter did little to help), she had completely forgotten the incident and thought it hilarious.
ReplyDeleteLapin, how would we live with men if we didn't have convenient memory lapses?
ReplyDeleteGymnast nymphomaniac sounds like fun ;) But I like smart, funny women - so the deaf/mute part probably won't work. And could care less about golf, hunting, or fishing :P
ReplyDeleteAs for boobs ? Well, to put it delicately, nice ones are in the err... eyes of the beholder. Yeah, eyes...that's it.
And yes, dear PJ, you're the prefect being. But there's only one of you & you're taken, so please ::sniff:: stop rubbing our nose in it.
::wicked grin::
David, boobs...in the eyes...?
ReplyDeleteAck! Watch it! You could put an eye out with that thing! :D
ReplyDeleteExactly. Careful there.
ReplyDeletewee hee, that was great. Thanks Mimi
ReplyDeleteAFA, I'm happy to oblige.
ReplyDelete