special poem Ed

Scott had so much to say I forgot what I wanted to say!!

Anyways.....sounds cold to me!!

Love Tinka

I slept out one night when it was
13 degrees all night.
I jumped around a lot and the 5th
of wine didn't help much either.
That cured me from drinking
many mo0ns ago.

Hi Mr. Ed,

I really liked this one, Ed, especially the gist--there are only temporary refuges from death. It comes to one and all...all except those who find the narrow path. I am amazed at the number of possible paths to eternity, but I'm sure that there is at least one way to live forever and ever. I am also relatively sure that there are a good number of paths that seem--to some at least--to be the only way to the golden gates. Most of those don't have a clue. I have a clue, though. I got it in my Bazooka bubble gum wrapper when I was nine years old. I'll tell you what it said, but first I have some other things that I want to tell you about.

Some even apparently think that if they blew you to smitherines (you, Ed, being a typical blow-em-up kind of American) along with their silly selves, they would be rewarded with a harem consisting of a multitude of extremely beautiful, albeit inexperienced sexual partners to train. Now some leftists and a whole bunch of rowdy rednecks would consider that a measure of nirvana. They wouldn't put it that way, of course, because rednecks have no clue about nirvana. They, on the hand, measure nirvana with regard to how many times per day they get to pump their liquid body parts into another creature.

Did I get far enough off the track, or should I continue to expound upon whatever it is that I'm expounding upon? Well, since you don't have a clue about what I'm writing with regard to whatever it is that I was writing about, then you can't give me any input. Everyone else doesn't count, so there we go. It's a majority of one. I like those kind of majorities, especially when I'm the majority of one. Okay, okay, okay, okay, okay. Where was I?

Okay, finally I am getting back to the clue that I received in that Bazooka bubble gum wrapper. Instead of the usual jokes, it said, "One fish, two fish; eat me, blow me." Seriously, that's what it said, so please don't take it personally. It was accompanied by a picture of a maggot on his last legs. Now you know why I like you so much. I was going to wait until your 60th birthday to tell you, but right now seemed so appropriate.

Finally, I truly enjoyed reading your poem. Seriously, I can't remember what it said, but it must have been pretty dog-gone good in or order for me to make a review. So consider yourself blessed.

Your buddy,

Scott