When the snow is on the outhouse,
And the frost is on the seat;
It’s then that nature’s duty calls
And you move with hurried feet!
You don’t have time to shovel,
So you waller through the snow;
And you don’t need a weatherman
To know it’s four below!
You make a quick deposit
And tear a page or two
Of last year’s mail house catalog –
Or even corn cobs will do!
Then to the house and fireside
You hurry without fail…
With frozen stuff hanging from your nose
And frostbite on your tail!
see also
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RU NEXT?
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Philosophers On Wives
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Names of the Colours
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Hard Working Cop
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Leroy's Hearing
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Found It!
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What's Your Blues Name?
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10-Feb-2012 |
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