June 9, 2010; A Song for Skeeter

Sing a Song of Skeeter

Skeeter, oh!, Skeeter

Where are you going?

Fifty-three years today,

And still thinking of blowing!

You've big goofy ears

And a face that's all craggy,

You never drink beers

But your boobs are still saggy.

But despite the old body

And the mind that is flakey

Each queer that ain't gaudy

Makes your dick wakey-wakey.

So I pause to salute!

You: old, paunchy fellow!

Be wise, you old coot,

And try to stay mellow.

For today is your day

And you want to make trouble

But with your carcass this way

You could pop like a bubble!

So cheer just a little

Keep your eye on the goal:

Take me out for a piddle

And fill up my bowl.

I recited this to Skeeter himself and he said, "Thank you," in a choked voice. "Here come the water-works," I mumbled but he just pulled me tight to him until I farted.