A MOST GRIEVOUS OCCURRENCE
LG: Andrew’s pants fell down at recess again today! Everyone saw his . . . Daddy, what’s that called when boys don’t have boxers . . . what do they have?
Daddy: Briefs?
LG: Yea! Everyone laughed at him ’cause they saw his GRIEFS!
POETRY TAG
I don’t like tags, they don’t make me happy, but I’m doing this for Rina as-cute-as-she-can Bee, only because she is in a family way, and I have a soft spot for preggos:
The Floater
Turd in a punch bowl
At the church coffee hour
Turd in a punch bowl
No wonder the deacons look dour!
I will pass this poopy assignment on to Bucky Four-Eyes, poet laureate of blogworld, and one of my oldest blogfriends, because she might even write an epic and read it on audiopost. Have you heard that dude?
And to William, one of my newest blogfriends, because I know he can handle it; he was raised on Poop and Boogies.
And to Katie-be-bored-at-work, because I’ve seen her wax eloquently on related topics.
Here’s the tag thing: 4 lines, the first and third are “Turd in a punch bowl;” the second and fourth must rhyme, and can be on any topic. Not SO bad, as tags go. Pass along to 3 unsuspecting punch drinkers.
DOG-GONE IT!
My Very Bad Dog, Biscuit, has run amok. That’s not the same as R-U-N-N-O-F-T, although he’s done that, too. He has taken to writing celebrities, asking their advice. Check out his shennanigans here. And may I also add a bit of advice, if you are new to the canine genius that is Mouse, read what he says ALOUD. It helps.
file under: &Family &Memes &Biscuit
