hey you!
yeah you!

i say,

i want to create
a collection
called '******* gems'
because of this poem.  

http://hellopoetry.com/poem/1400754/sick/

i LOVE that phrase!

so i say,
or said to me,

i shall ask your advice.
kind reader,
will that offend?

... i'm thinking it will,
... so i best not.  
what do YOU think kind reader?
should i?
should i not?  

i guess the requirement
to join the club would be
that the piece must contain
at least
one time,
my favorite
******* word.

so i say!
what do
YOU
say?

OH and just thought
it must be nice
or funny
or nice & funny!

oh and
or
romantic...

no icky works
will be accepted.

read the gem
from which
the collection wishes
to spring.

eagerly awaiting your
replies,
your friend,
i hope,
the big fat bus
with the Big Fat Yellow Bootay.

(oooo... should i edit that to read
with my favorite word in between
Fat & Yellow?)

i bid you adieu,
sweet quiet morning to you,
kind reader...

...have adventures ahead
between now
and next time we meet.

that puppyhead needs her a walkin...
and you are seeing what treasures those net
each morning.

someone somewhere must
brush teeth,
scrape tongue

... ah ****,* i best make this a morning piece
and you kin read it thar,
so here it is.

* and NO, that was not written to mean
and poo!
as part of the morning constitutional.
it was an exclamation...
explaining is exhausting...

meanwhile,
back at the ranch,
.....or hacienda or suburban condo,

the young suburban ma'am
was weeping, 'n cryingn  'n sobbing,
having thrown herself down on her
soft, velvet covered chaise lounge.

"where are you Manly Cowboy?"
she wept
"wherefore did thou go?"
"whyfore have you doth forsaken me so?"
"in my hour of need?"

Boo hoo hoo hoo

the wailing was reaching a rather
intense volume,
so much so,
that,
soon,

there was a knock at the door.

wiping her tears from her
bright red swollen eyes and cheeks,
with her delicately embroidered
handkerchief,
her long white gosling robed gown
trailing her as,
she went to the door.

opening it,
what did she see?

but standing there,
there stood,
the,
most,
handsome, tall,
muscular man
of a manly plumber
she had ever seen.

said he,
"i couldn't but help to be
overhearing
your pitiful wails.

and i thought you might
need some help.

anything i can do to
assist you ma'am?"

WELL...
thought she,
this is the best iimprovement
in many a long day,
since the Manly Cowboy
had gone away.

"yes, you can" replied she
"would you like to come in
and take a cup of tea
with me?"

......not so fast,  
we're not done
with this one.

"certainly, i would" replied he,
"and, well, ma'am, if it isn't any
trouble for you,
i'd really prefer something
a little stronger,
per chance, do you have
any beer?"

"why yes i do." says she

"cold?" asks he

"as a snowball in hell." she replied

the manly plumber strode in,
his tools jangling about
his firm hips and strong legs.

excusing herself,
she went to the kitchen and
opened up two beers.

pouring one in a tall glass,
over ice,
she poured an eighth of the other
into another
and finished filling it up
by adding warm water
from the tap.

she did this to prevent herself
from getting too tipsy
as she was dehydrated from
all of her crying.

out she walked,
two tall glasses
in hand,
she handed one to him
and looked over the other.

the first shy smile
her sweet face
had seen in a while,
began creeping up.

since,

now? who had gone???

the manly cowboy
lying on his back
of some foriegn land,
looked up and
saw a star twinkling
high in the sky,
and he smiled.

“HOKEY POKEEEEEEEY!"

"HOKEY POKEY MOTHER *******!"

cried the big fat bus as she sped away.

the young brave
looked up  

"it’s not hokey pokey
you moronic big fat bus
with the big fat yellow bootay

"It’s H————“

but the big fat bus
with the big fat yellow bootay
couldn’t hear him
with the wind in her ears
and the nobel battle cry
ringing through her yellow grill
as she sped away.

and with that,
the handsome young brave
returned to the task at hand
sharpening his very,
very,
large blades,
very,
very,
slowly.

quite stealthily,
the big fat yellow bootay
cruised
by the very intent,
young brave lad
so carefully
sharpening
his
blades,

oh,
so,
quietly.

oh,
so,
slowly....

a skill she had
perfected these many months
on the run.

and what fun months
they were.

she slid by
oh.
so,
very,
silently,

then a nice
distance away
she turned
her big fat yellow bootay
around.

and.......