“Do I have to?” I whine and I cry,
As I stand under blue, cloudless sky,
But we’ve boiled every pot,
And the water’s so hot,
That my rain boots must keep my feet dry.
Barry buttonholed me today and asked me to to help him pour many gallons of boiling water over plywood (to bend it). This limerick is a fib — you can see from the photo that I love my rain boots. They’re cute and blue, like something Paddington Bear would wear.
The other photo is for my Washington and Colorado friends. It proves we have potheads here in Georgia, too.
Potheads getting bent. Excellent excuse for another limerick. :)
Kris Steyn liked this on Facebook.
Werner Friedrich liked this on Facebook.
Lorraine Steyn liked this on Facebook.
Taube Cyrus liked this on Facebook.
Tara Narcross-Wyckoff liked this on Facebook.
This limerick is about a duck,
The sound that they make is not cluck,
I give them a whack,
If they make a loud quack
That makes me fall into the muck.
-I write from experience
Now that I am wearing a pot,
On my face there is a big spot,
Where the cornstarch all smears,
And I think my mom fears,
That I’m alien when really I’m not
I like drawing dragons and whatnot,
And enjoy eating chicken a lot,
This blog I am reading,
Now gives me a feeling,
That I should start wearing a pot.
Sue Huffaker liked this on Facebook.
Libby Liles liked this on Facebook.
Linda Kay Graham liked this on Facebook.