For 5 September:
An elderly woman had just returned to her home from an evening of church services when she was startled by an intruder. Catching the man in the act of robbing her home of its valuables, she yelled, "Stop! Acts 2:38!" ("Repent and be baptized, in the name of Jesus Christ, so that your sins may be forgiven.")
The burglar stopped in his tracks.
The woman calmly called the police and explained what had happened.
As the officer cuffed the man to take him in, he was curious and asked the burglar, "Why did you just stand there? All the old lady did was yell a scripture to you."
"Scripture?" replied the burglar. "She said she had an ax and two 38s!"
I was worried about my receding hairline, so I made a deal with the devil. He promised that if I ever go bald, he'll make it grow back. So now I have adopted a devil make hair attitude, even though I know that someday there'll be Hell toupee.
I've been called a rare commodity. I wonder if that makes me silver or gold? I guess I could be either ore.
Visit the Wednesday Wit archive:
This post was modified from its original form on 05 Sep, 5:25
Carol, stellar!! I love Wednesday Wit and thanks for posting the archive link. There's a lot of good "stuff" there when we need to lighten our mental load.
Carol, you out did yourself today; these are better than ever. Thank you for lightening the day; after the DNC last night we all needed this so badly.
Appreciate the new thread and the links to the others. Sometimes I wish Wednesday was the only day of the week so we could constantly enjoy your Wednesday Wit, but then what is there to look forward to, right.
For 12 September:
Dr. Stein had been experimenting with matter transfer theories his entire life and one night he erroneously reversed the wires on his prototype time machine and was instantly cast into a dark void. When he gathered his senses he discovered he was in a tunnel racing forward in time.
His immediate elation was soon quelled as he realized his movement was taking him so far into the future that he would soon reach the time of his death. There had to be a way to stop his forward progress in time and thus avert this tragedy.
He spied a small ornamental recess in the wall of the time tunnel wherein rested a plaque engraved with the number of the year he was about to enter. He could see by this plaque that he had already projected himself six years into the future. He thereupon resolved to catch the edge of the next recess to arrest his progress. This, he hoped, would prevent him from continuing toward his ultimate fate.
And he did so. His acceleration slowed, and stopped. "Amazing," he thought. "Wait until my friends find out that a niche in time saved Stein."
When a clock is hungry... it goes back four seconds.
A woman trained an aged wildebeest to bark. She thereby proved that, yes, you can teach an old gnu dog tricks.
OKAY, I was wrong, you have "one uped" last week Carol. These are great. It was nice to have a diversion and some laughter; please keep them coming.
For 19 September:
The trustees of the Madrid Zoo in Spain learned that there were only thirty-four whooping cranes left in the United States, and determined that they must have one before the breed became extinct. Never mind what Spanish wiles they had to exercise to fulfill their ambition; suffice it to say that a whooping crane was dispatched via airfreight in due course and consigned to the Madrid Zoo. Alas, when the fool bird arrived at the Madrid Airport, he flatly refused to debark, and the brokenhearted trustees had to return empty-handed to their zoo. They surely should have known that cranes in Spain stick mainly to the plane.
A man's incessant remote-control channel-surfing was driving his wife nuts. "It really irks me when you flip through the channels like that," she said.
When he began to whistle, she snapped, "Now what are you doing?"
He answered, "I thought I should whistle while I irk."
Carol, these are fabulous and just what we needed today. Thank you so much for reminding us that there is humor in all situations and that we can come here to find a common ground; you are awesome.
For 26 September:
It's Harvest Sunday at a small village church in rural England, and the vicar is organizing his annual harvest service, where people bring their home-grown plants and vegetables to lay on the altar. But this year is a bit different. The local cricket team has just won their league, and the village is in celebratory mood, so the vicar decides to do something special - he will combine the usual Harvest service with a cricket theme.
The day of the service arrives, and the church is filled with flowers. People are bringing in their offerings of fresh vegetables and fruits. In the middle of the altar is a cricket wicket - a strip of turf with a set of wooden stumps at each end - and people are laying their offerings on the wicket.
Everything is going smoothly, until one lady comes up to the altar and reaches forward to place a bag of peas among the vegetables. The vicar immediately stops her, so she returns to her seat, still clutching her offering.
"What happened?" asks the lady she's sitting next to.
She shrugs her shoulders, and sighs, "The vicar says there's no peas for the wicket."
I thought I might become a psychic televangelist but I couldn't find anyone willing to fundamentalist preacher.
Have you ever notice how groups of lions tend to move on just before autumn? Of course; pride goeth before the fall.
Carol, no words can describe how much you cheer up a person and you sure did a great job today; love all of them.
For 3 October:
Julius Caesar, Mark Anthony, and Brutus decided to go to a football match one Saturday. Roma was playing local rival Sparta for the All Holy Roman Empire Cup. So Caesar organized the tickets and they all agreed to meet at the stadium at 3p.m., just in time for the kickoff.
Saturday arrived and Caesar and Mark Anthony took their seats just as Roma kicked off. Brutus, however, was missing. Then, just before half time, in came Brutus looking a little flustered.
“My chariot lost a wheel on the way here,” explained Brutus. “It took nearly an hour to fix it.” So he sat down with the others as the teams came out for the second half.
“How’s Roma doing?” asked Brutus.
“Great!” replied Mark Anthony, “they have never played better.”
“So, what’s the score then?” Brutus inquired.
“8-2, Brutus,” replied Caesar.
When Franklin Roosevelt was president, he kept exotic fish and other sea creatures in several aquariums in the White House. In one of those aquariums, he kept a moray eel. This was not just your average moray. In fact, it did not look like any moray you have ever seen. Some people thought it was some kind of albino creature, but that was not completely accurate. This moray eel actually had transparent skin. Whenever it poked its head out from the rocks in the aquarium, Franklin and his guests could see beneath its skin. This was such a novel attraction that, even today, people talk about Franklin Roosevelt and his nude eel.
Oh Carol, you did it again. Excellent. I can't stop laughting at these. Thank you for the uplift this gives ones spirits.
For 10 October:
The small hamlet of Earl Grey in Wales has been producing great tea for more than fifty years. The town has also been re-electing the same mayor for decades. Although the mayor is in her dotage, she is beloved and continues to win. Lately she has been falling asleep during town meetings and committee meetings, and sometimes she even forgets where she is or who she is. She rambles on in her speeches, forgets what she is saying, and, in short, is an embarrassment to her position. The residents all agree that as lovable as she is, the Earl Grey mayor just ain't what she used to be.
The musician and composer Johann Strauss was an avid mountain climber who once waltzed himself into deep trouble. He lost his footing and found himself hanging by his fingertips over a yawning gorge. Another climber heroically came to his rescue and just managed to grab Johann by a strap of his backpack to save the Maestro's life. Since then, the act of trying to get out of a seemingly hopeless situation has come to be known as grasping at Strauss.
Yodeling: a slope opera
Carol, you hit two favorite; I love Earl Grey tea so I was waiting to see what this would be and it was great. Then you found another favorite, classical music and so was waiting for this one, too.
I have to say they just bet getter every week. Thank you so much.
For 17 October:
Bernie Backwater had been suffering from back problems for years. These problems had gotten so bad in recent months that he could no longer stand erect. He consulted with countless doctors on how best to relieve his pain and return to his former upright posture. In each instance, the doctors told him surgery was the only answer. They could not, however, guarantee that they could remove the crick in his back.
Bernie finally consented to the surgery but decided to vacation at his brother Bobby's cabin for a week prior to the operation. When he spoke of the planned surgery, Bobby mentioned that there was a sure fire method to correct the problem without surgery or the need of a doctor. Bobby explained it was a home remedy learned over many years of country experience and guaranteed to work.
Bernie agreed to try it, believing he had nothing to lose. So the two of them walked to the lake's edge where Bobby took an oar from his boat and jammed it in the soft mud near the shoreline. He explained that all Bernie had to do was grasp the oar with one hand near the bottom and, much like choosing sides in a sandlot baseball game, work his way, hand over hand, to the top. Bernie began somewhat skeptically, but he was extremely pleased that in no time at all he was up the paddle without a crick.
The State of Texas makes me think of the old slogan "Remember the Alamo." It seems that during that battle, the guy in charge of the whole thing put his wife, of all people, on the battle line. She was shot by the enemy and, her patella shattered, had to be removed from the front line. After the fighting was over, she divorced her husband and sued for Alamo knee.
I would love to have the sense of humor and talent to come up with these. Thank you, Carol.
For 24 October:
A fierce tribe of cannibals lived a short distance away from a group of peaceful people. The cannibals were hungry for land as well as human flesh, and they descended upon the peaceful people and attacked them.
These cannibals had a particular liking for eating only the arms and legs of their victims, and they especially enjoyed the hearty flavor of the lower extremities of their victims' legs. While the onslaught was proceeding, some of the peaceful natives managed to escape to a neighboring village where they were given refuge.
In honor of their escape, the chief of the village feted the escapees by presenting a show for their distraction and amusement. Well, the acting was awful, and even the chief was embarrassed by the production. Turning to his audience and particularly his honored guests, he said, "Let those of you without shins, stone the first cast."
A man left Rome and came to New York where he worked as a cook in an Italian restaurant near Yankee Stadium. He became an avid baseball fan and, for a brief period, left his job to become an umpire. Soon, he realized that his real calling after all was in cuisine and he opened his own restaurant near the Stadium. He was very successful and became renowned for his chicken risotto. Edward Gibbon chronicled the story in his epic Rice and Foul of the Roman Umpire.
Carol, once more you made my day. Has been a rough couple of months with some personal things going on and your Wednesday Wit has brightened things for me and allowed me to share it with someone else that needed a good laugh; we appreciate you so much.
For 31 October:
Once upon a time in England, a very nasty witch was terrorizing the local population. A committee of residents finally was sent to see a wizard to see what could be done about the witch. The wizard gave them a potion that would turn the witch into a statue. The townspeople managed to slip the potion into the witch's stew. After she'd eaten, they tried to sneak away, but she accosted them and, on learning their purpose, turned green with rage. But it was too late and the potion worked as expected. The jubilant population had a big celebration and parade, and placed the petrified witch in a park as a public example. Pretty soon, it was discovered that the witch had been petrified in a position that made her a perfect sundial, and residents started using her to tell the time of day. The custom grew and, even today, people often refer to "Mean Green Witch Time."
In exorcism literature, possession is nine-tenths of the lore.
And if you don't pay your exorcist... you can get repossessed.
Thanks, Carol!!! I won't forget to pay my exorcist!
Carol, this is perfect for the day and thank you so much.
I finally took a little time to read the last several weeks worth of Wednesday Wit posts. Most if not all were very good.
Carol's last one reminded me though about that exorcist tale.
I was at a meeting once and heard one of the speakers talking about various things, and he realized that my boss was in the crowd. (For those who aren't familiar with my past livelihood, it was with an Automobile Financing Firm in New Jersey and my boss' name was Patrick.
As the speaker went on and after covering several subjects, he very casually remembered to put his DIG into the owner of my company. His statement, which went over quite well was, "Now if any one of you really want to get back on your feet rather quickly, JUST MISS SENDING PATRICK HIS MONTHLY PAYMENT and MR. PETERSEN WILL PUT YOU ON YOUR FEET JUST AS QUICKLY.
And for all of you IRISH PEOPLE out there, (I'm going to pick on LInda and Diane today) here is a cute story that one of my Irish Maryland Friends just sent to me:
Paddy, had long heard the stories of an amazing family tradition.
It seems that his father, grandfather and great-grandfather had all
been able to walk on water on their 18th birthday.
On that special day, they'd each walked across the lake to the pub on
the far side for their first legal drink.
So when Paddy's, 18th birthday came 'round, he and his pal Mick, took a
boat out to the middle of the lake, Paddy, stepped out of the boat
...and nearly drowned!
Mick just barely managed to pull him to safety.
Furious and confused, Paddy, went to see his grandmother.
'Grandma,' he asked, "It's my 18th birthday, so why can't I walk 'cross
the lake like my father,his father, and his father before him?"
Granny looked deeply into Paddy's, troubled brown eyes and said,
"Because your father, your grandfather and your great grandfather were
all born in December, when the lake is frozen, and you were born in
August, dip %#&!*%.
This post was modified from its original form on 31 Oct, 11:33
For 7 Nov:
Under ObamaCare, there will be established a new board of specialists. Please note for impending use.
Who amps up Barbie’s hormones? Kendocrinologist
Who does sub-par heart surgery? Scardiologist
Who delivers for the Mafia? Mobstetrician
Who doesn’t know what he’s doing? Losteopath
Muslim hearing specialist? Saudiologist
Who listens to sole music? Ipodiatrist
Who treats Santa’s broken ankle? Northopedist
Who’s paid in Continental currency? Eurologist
Who keeps a Kardashian healthy? Kimmunologist
Ethical specialist who does extractions? Moral surgeon
Who checks pupils at the police academy? Coptometrist
For idle amusement while waiting for the election returns, I was tossing candy mints onto a pile of decaying autumn leaves in the yard -- but now I'm non compost Mentos.
Wow, those were great. Thanks for a Smile or so, SOMETHING that is very much needed this morning after having gone through yesterday and the disappointing results
Perhaps this story isn't quite appropriate for Wednesday Wit, but I just received it from Monique, and although I've seen it before (quite a long time ago) I think it might be appreciated by most of you. It's sort of a tear jerker, so have a tissue handy, but it turns out to be a very happy story ultimately, and might help to reinforce our faith which, perhaps we all need today and going forward. I hope you enjoy this as much as I did.
A drunk man in an Oldsmobile
They said had run the light
That caused the six-car
On 109 that night.
When broken bodies lay about
And blood was everywhere,
The sirens screamed out eulogies,
For death was in the air.
A mother, trapped inside her car,
Was heard above the noise;
Her plaintive plea near split the air:
Oh, God, please spare my
She fought to loose her pinned hands;
She struggled to get free,
But mangled metal held her fast
In grim captivity.
Her frightened eyes then focused
On where the back seat once had
But all she saw was broken glass and
Two children's seats crushed
Her twins were nowhere to be seen;
She did not hear them cry,
And then she prayed they'd been thrown free,
Oh, God, don't let them die!
Then firemen came and cut her loose,
But when they searched the back,
They found therein no little boys,
But the seat
belts were intact.
They thought the woman had gone mad
And was traveling alone,
But when they turned to question her,
They discovered she was gone.
Policemen saw her running wild
And screaming above the noise
In beseeching supplication,
Please help me find my boys!
They're four years old and wear blue
Their jeans are blue to match.
One cop spoke up, They're in my car,
And they don't have a scratch.
They said their daddy put them there
And gave them each a cone,
Then told them both to wait for Mom
To come and take
I've searched the area high and low,
But I can't find their dad.
He must have fled the scene,
I guess, and that is very bad.
The mother hugged the twins and said,
While wiping at a tear,
He could not flee the scene, you see,
For he's been dead a year.
The cop just looked confused and asked,
Now, how can that be true?
The boys said, Mommy, Daddy came
And left a kiss for you.
He told us not to worry
And that you would be all right,
And then he put us in this car with
The pretty, flashing light.
We wanted him to
stay with us,
Because we miss him so,
But Mommy, he just hugged us tight
And said he had to go.
He said someday we'd understand
And told us not to fuss,
And he said to tell you, Mommy,
He's watching over us.
The mother knew without a doubt
That what they spoke was
For she recalled their dad's last words,
I will watch over you...
The firemen's notes could not explain
The twisted, mangled car,
And how the three of them escaped
Without a single scar.
But on the cop's report was scribed,
In print so very fine,
An angel walked the
beat tonight on Highway 109.
He who has a thousand friends has not a friend to spare.
This morning when the Lord opened a window to Heaven,
He saw me, and he asked: 'My child, what is your greatest wish for
I responded: 'Lord please, take care of the person who is reading this
message, their family and their special friends.
They deserve it and I love them very much.
This message works on the day you receive it...
Let us see if it is true 20 ANGELS EXIST
but some times, since they don't all have wings, we call them FRIENDS.
This post was modified from its original form on 07 Nov, 7:31
Carol, those were excellent as usual.
Jim, the story, althought not part of what I consider wit, is wonderful. I do appreciate it as it reminds us to hang on, do not give up and to know that there are those watching over us.
For 14 November:
A cargo ship is traveling from the US to Europe with a hold full of various consumer goods. The journey is proceeding on schedule, until suddenly, right in the middle of the Atlantic, they encounter a bad squall and some of the containers at the rear of the ship get washed overboard. Quite aside from the loss of the cargo, the ship's load is now severely unbalanced and in these rough seas enough ballast can't be added to compensate.
There was a good number of containers loaded with bars of beauty soap sitting in the forward area, and the captain ordered his crew to move all of them aft, which should trim the ship. The crew got to work, and when they were done the bo'sun reported in.
"Did you move it all?" asked the captain.
"Aye, sir, we've left no Tone unsterned."
The ladies’ soccer team coach told his players that any ball that was rolling or bouncing in a haphazard manner should be passed to a team mate rather than used to score. To remind them, he printed across the top of the chalkboard, in the locker room: 'Ball that fritters is not goaled'.
Oh Carol, you can be counted on to give us some very enjoyable time; these are up to your usual high standard of humor and thank you so much.
Love, love, love Wednesday Wit, Carol. What you bring to Political Derby here and beyond is a treasure. We are no fortunate to have you engage with us.
For 21 November:
Under the rule of King Henry VIII, the Navy Royal began the tradition of having a large, standing naval force. As part of his campaign to ensure that even the spiritual needs of his sailors, Henry - in his role as head of the Church of England - mandated that a priest be assigned to every seagoing vessel as a junior officer. When not tending to his priestly duties, the cleric was traditionally assigned to direct the handling of the sails on the rearmost mast of the ship. While this was normally a position of relative safety, some casualties among the holy men did occur. Such events were uniformly dreaded by the captains because it meant filling out paperwork for the Admiralty and the Church of England. It took a full 24 hours to file a mizzen parsons report.
Two overweight middle-aged women were on their daily walk. They were discussing how hard it is to lose weight as one gets older. One woman complained that she remained apple-shaped. The other woman said that no matter how much she exercised, there was too much fat on her backside and thighs, and it seemed like it was there to stay. Her friend agreed, saying, "It's true. The lard works in mysterious ways."
Vice President Biden will travel to Turkey to speak at an economic summit. When he heard he was giving a speech to Turkey, Biden was like, "I am so sorry about Thanksgiving."
...and a happy Thanksgiving to all !
This post was modified from its original form on 21 Nov, 5:41
For 28 November:
A small college town was being overrun by gypsy moths, so much so that the town council was beside itself trying to figure out how to get rid of them. It just so happened that a music student at the local college music conservatory was practicing the organ one afternoon when a number of moths flew in the open window.
The student noticed that when he played a particular chord on the organ that the moths immediately flew to the speaker of the organ. This gave the bright, entrepreneurial student an idea. He approached the town council and told them he would rid the town of moths for a fee.
The council agreed.
So the student found a portable organ and put it in the back of a friend's pick-up truck. His friend drove around town with the student in the back of the truck playing the moth-attracting chord.
But, alas, the experiment failed as the music failed to attract a single moth.
Puzzled, he asked his music professor what may have happened.
The professor explained that the vibration of the truck, as it rolled down the street, altered the pitch of the chord sufficiently that the moths were not attracted to it.
"Didn't you know?" the professor said. "A rolling tone gathers no moths."
President Obama held a meeting with the cabinet today. He also spoke to the bookcase and argued with the chest of drawers.
Last night I expected to have my car parked by the valet service, but when I got to the theater I had to park it myself because the Carmen were all Bizet.
Carol, both last week and this week are awesomely funny and I loved them all. For some reason last week never posted as a notification so didn't see it until today. Thank you so much. I caught my grandson's head cold (thank you boys, Grandma loves you, LOL) and so it was nice to have something to lift the spirits some. Thank you, thank you.
This post was modified from its original form on 28 Nov, 8:22
Great, Carol and thanks for some good Wednesday Wit.
For 5 December:
I was at the hairdresser the other day, catching up on the celebrity magazines, when I read that actor Peter Fonda was recently in South Africa preparing for his role in a new film biography of Dr. Christian Barnard, the first surgeon to perform a heart transplant. On a tour of Dr. Barnard's medical facility, Fonda posed a question to the doctor who was showing him around.
"Tell me," he asked, "when you transplant a heart from a child to an adult, the heart must be too small. How do you make it fit?"
"Oh," said the good doctor, "we give the patient a small dose of French liqueur."
"Really?" asked Fonda incredulously.
"Of course," replied the doctor, "you know that absinthe makes the heart grow, Fonda!"
Paul Sipiera, polar explorer, Harper College astronomy and geology professor and NASA consultant, is no gardener. He is the man who, while mowing the lawn, trimmed his own foot by cutting off three toes. In discussing the accident from a hospital bed he told reporters, "I made my mistake by calling 911 and asking for an ambulance; I should have called for a toe truck."
I just got my permit to harvest shrimp in the Antarctic. Now I have a license to krill.
Carol, Carol, Carol, just when I think you could not outdue yourself you prove me wrong. These are so good. Not sure which one I like best as they are all so much fun. Please keep this column going as we all need your clean and wholesome wit. I look forward to Wednesday to read your column and Friday to find out what recipe Diane has for us. Thank you so much!!!!!
CALL A DAMN TOE TRUCK, CAROL!!!! I love these. Great as always bringing some cheer our way.
Carol, a wonderful light in an otherwise cool dreary day. Keep up the work!
For 12 December:
As a highly skilled computer technician, Joe was hired to synchronize the communication between the microchips in the various computers in a local network. His new boss had left him instructions on a series of post-it notes. The slips of paper were so numerous and jumbled that they were confusing to Joe and his colleagues. Finally, Joe decided to ignore his boss' instructions. He simply discarded the notes and successfully completed the task on his own. Upon his return, Joe's boss asked him to describe the strategy that resulted in his success. "That's easy," replied Joe. "Lose slips, synch chips!"
Contrary to popular belief it wasn't the eating of the apple that caused God to expel Adam and Eve from Paradise. It was their blatant disregard of certain rules of conduct in the herb bed. Often mistranslated, this infraction of God's rules is known as oregano sin.
You got a groan and much laughter, Carol. "Oregano sin", ouch. That was funny. And "lose slips, synch chips". You were in good form today and love these.
Linda, I know that oregano sin is certainly not committed by any of our fine chefs here... hehehe!
Carol, you got me on that one. Almost wet my pants, but don't tell anyone, okay? That is good. We will have to ask them, won't we. Any of you out there committing Oregano Sin?
Priceless! Thanks, Carol!
For 19 December:
A Merry Christmas Greeting (from the legal beagles -- without prejudice):
I. Though we, the "Greetor," wish you well
In our Holiday Entreaty,
We limit all your claims, Dear Friend
(Hereinafter called the "Greetee").
II. We wish you dreams of Sugar Plums
And dancing Christmas Lights,
But if these Fancies come to Naught
You have no Vested Rights.
III. In no case shall we be at fault
In Implied Claims of Fitness,
And all Writs of Depression must
Be Sworn before a Witness.
IV. Although our Approbations
Are Warranted full Free
Of Defects in Sincerity,
There is no Guarantee.
V. Whenever there's a Conflict
These, our Contract Terms, will rule;
The "Greetee" then is on his own
To have a Happy Yule.
VI. We hope that You, Your Kith and Kin
Find Christmas Viability;
But if You don't, note now that We
Decline all Liability.
VII. So if you don't hear Sleigh Bells ring,
Or smell the fresh cut Pines,
You have, "Greetee," Released our Firm,
Successors, and Assigns.
VIII. And if Our Heartfelt Christmas Wish
By Counter Claim is marred,
We may, at our Sole Option,
Repossess this Christmas Card.
Accepted: ________________________ . . . . . . . . . (Greetee)
On Christmas eve, a burglar broke into the home of a lawyer. The thief took all the lawyer's Christmas gifts from under the tree but left the packages for the wife and children alone.
As the criminal was leaving the house, he was caught by a policeman. He confessed to what he did but told the policeman that he couldn't be arrested.
The policeman asked why, and the thief responded, "Because the law states that I'm entitled to the presents of an attorney."
Make out your Chopin Liszt early before Debussy season, when you have time to check out Verdi good bargains and can still get gifts Faure good price, not have to Handel large crowds and have time to give Bach things you decide you don't want.
Thanks Carol. These were Verdi good!!!!!
This post was modified from its original form on 19 Dec, 6:03
Carol, my daughter will love the last one as she plays the violin and is classically trained, obviously. I would add to this that on my wish Liszt is Mozart as I would love a Thomas Kincaid print.
This was wonderful and now you have me wanting to figure out what other composers we could include in this. LOL Yes, Diane, they are Verdi good!!!!
Carol -- Not only "Verdi" good but great for a cool "Fausti" day in Florida. LOL
For 26 December:
Twas the day after Christmas, and all through the house
Nothing would fit me, not even a blouse.
The cookies I'd nibbled, the eggnog I'd taste
At the holiday parties had gone to my waist.
When I got on the scales there arose such a number!
When I walked to the store (less a walk than a lumber).
I'd remember the marvelous meals I'd prepared;
The gravies and sauces and beef nicely rared,
The wine and the rum balls, the bread and the cheese
And the way I'd never said, "No thank you, please."
As I dressed myself in my husband's old shirt
And prepared once again to do battle with dirt---
I said to myself, as I only can,
"You can't spend a winter disguised as a man!"
So--away with the last of the sour cream dip,
Get rid of the fruit cake, every cracker and chip
Every last bit of food that I like must be banished
"Till all the additional ounces have vanished.
I won't have a cookie--not even a lick.
I'll want only to chew on a crisp celery stick.
I won't have hot biscuits, or corn bread, or pie,
I'll munch on a carrot and quietly cry.
I'm hungry, I'm lonesome, and life is a bore---
But isn't that what January is for?
Very good, Carol. This is why January is the most depressing month of the year I suspect. LOL
Oh, Carol, I'm out there and loving this poem!! love this, too
Thanks so much for what you do!!