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ping pong ping pong
its my thing
play it with a partner
ill play it when you ring
a walls as good as any
or play it with a friend
put your tennies on at night
and whack the ball again
Last edited by Huckleberry3911948; 11-27-2008 at 01:21 AM..
(This silly poem is intended to amuse rather than offend.)
The realtors smiled from ear to ear
as we affixed our signatures.
We were finally going to be
at home at last in Tennessee.
Lower taxes, lower bills,
no more Massachusetts chill.
And it never snows down here.
The hilltop view was a delight
with not a single house in sight.
Then two men came by one day
as they surveyed the right-of-way.
The road could not accomodate
the traffic they anticipa-
ted in and out of Hilltop Heights.
They took four feet of our front yard
as we stood by and swallowed hard.
A gigantic subdivision
made us doubt that our decision
to move here was really wise,
and we sadly realized
the snow would not be gone 'til March.
As if all this was not enough,
one day the zoning gal showed up.
She said, it's purely incidental,
but you're surely residential.
Your horse and pig will have to go,
but there's no need to worry though.
Your taxes won't go up that much.
But the apex of our pain
was when the tax assessor came
to let us know that he was due
eleven hundred smackeroos.
We had built a small addition
without getting his permission.
All objections were in vain.
As we looked at our crystal balls
we saw streets and shopping malls,
miles and miles of backed up traffic,
noise and smoke and general havoc,
and we now could plainly see
that our piece of Tennessee
was not heavenly at all.
The realtors smiled from ear to ear
as we affixed our signatures.
We're as happy as can be
to be away from Tennessee.
Now at least we've finally found
our mountain top in Alabam'.
And it never snows down here.
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It Never Snows Down Here
