Bleached is the camper,
Tomorrow I can now scamper,
Work around the yard done,
Not something I enjoy, not fun…
Can’t get the bleach smell out,
My hands will forever be free of grout,
Everything I touch turns to bleach,
I should have used the kind that smelled of peach…
Quiet around the old homestead,
Coming tomorrow, my lady of the thread,
Of her legs she will of course spread,
But tonight I can again be just an old pothead…J
© ed J 10/21/06
Naughty boy :)
Just think clean, forget the stink of bleach, rewards a comin
Ch'erie
Glad this was NOT comment 19666 thank goodnes the little devil missed me this time!!
Love tinka
This is a funny write, my friend.
Love,
CJ
How does our Rufuz feel about the bleach!
I'm happy your true love returns to you minana
If the RV's a rock'n
Don't bother knock'n
Susan.