Post by Barry Hodges on Mar 7, 2011 17:25:08 GMT
This is the 63rd in my epoch-making "Memories" sequence. Enjoy!
People oftimes consider Great Lake-bordering Wisconsin
To be the one of the loveliest states of the Union,
A paradise for lovers of forests and German-style sausages.
Ah! What a wondrous playground is to be found there,
Agricultural lands a-plenty whose waving wheatfields
Reflect the majesty of her beauteous cities
(the mind dwells on Racine and Milwaukee in particular
whose municipal fresh air is a joy unto the lungs of man).
Needless to say, this mid-western utopia for the soul
Is totally unlike the mafia-infested horror of Illinois and Michigan.
But there is a darker side to this dream destination, oh verily,
For I have been there and met more horror than you could ever imagine
(even if you had a really fecund imagination and a big dildo).
The sad tale which follows involved my Grand Tour on the back of a truck,
Specially reinforced with strongest Detroit steel to cater for
The staggering weight of my fiancée of the fickle moment,
The supremely bloated and hirsute Agnes "Porky" Scheissburger,
A giant of a woman with the sex-drive of a mad rhinoceros,
And only heir to her Daddy's enormous brewery fortune.
Thus, we toured from town to town through the gracious state
Everywhere gorging on the local delicacies of sauerkraut and beer
(with an occasional sidetrack towards a McNorwegian herringburger)
And, by a strange coincidence, every single evening we ended up
With our heads in the porcelain bowl, regurgitating our tasty meals,
Throwing up half-digested fatty lumps of gristle by the bucket-load,
Praying for deliverance from our self-inflicted abdominal agonies
(but how could we resist, they were so huge on the plate?)
One tragic evening in a tastefully decorated love-motel
On the outskirts of elegant Madison (where the dance comes from)
We were set upon by the enraged motel manager, one Mr Snottig,
A fifth generation Swedish-American of immense vulgarity,
Innate animal brutality and lack of basic human kindness,
Whose bestial strength and body odour could have won prizes.
I fortunately had time to run wisely like a seven foot five
Basketball hero chased by a runaway Hummer V8,
And hide in a convenient evergreen Finnish fir tree,
Whence I could see and hear the savage Mr Snottig
Rip dear Agnes's head off her shoulders, crush it utterly
Between his butch Scandinavian fingers and shove the bits
Down the toilet bowl as a sacrificial offering to the sewer god.
And for what? Just because we'd puked up a couple of gallons
Of the finest Milwaukee beer on the bed during a love-bout.
Had the man no sense of romance? Was he an unfeeling beast?
Oh sweet Lord, I shall never return to lovely Wisconsin again,
Especially since Daddy has placed a contract on my handsome hide.
==============================================
I posted this delightful poem at AllPoetry.com and I received this enchanting review a couple of days ago from some cowboy called "Ric". I append it for your amusement, and the American spellings/bad punctuation are funny too:
"I just read this piece of trash, what started out as a nice read turned into something vile and disgusting, my guess Mr. Hodges is you are a sick individual in great need of serious psychological help, to imply that an act such as this is acceptable is unconscionable. You have somehow used the fact that just because she is morbidly overweight and from a wealthy family that this action should be acceptable. You should seek counseling Barry and further more I’m shocked that it...has gotten applause, shame on you all and I am again surprised that I am the only one on here who has had the fortitude to speak out against this derogatory attack against women. I realize this is probably nothing more that a fabrication from within your sick mind but being said, this all the more justification for you to seek professional counseling. This contest itself is disgusting, shame on you too young lady you should have more pride in yourself than to promote something such as this, and shame on AP for allowing it."
People oftimes consider Great Lake-bordering Wisconsin
To be the one of the loveliest states of the Union,
A paradise for lovers of forests and German-style sausages.
Ah! What a wondrous playground is to be found there,
Agricultural lands a-plenty whose waving wheatfields
Reflect the majesty of her beauteous cities
(the mind dwells on Racine and Milwaukee in particular
whose municipal fresh air is a joy unto the lungs of man).
Needless to say, this mid-western utopia for the soul
Is totally unlike the mafia-infested horror of Illinois and Michigan.
But there is a darker side to this dream destination, oh verily,
For I have been there and met more horror than you could ever imagine
(even if you had a really fecund imagination and a big dildo).
The sad tale which follows involved my Grand Tour on the back of a truck,
Specially reinforced with strongest Detroit steel to cater for
The staggering weight of my fiancée of the fickle moment,
The supremely bloated and hirsute Agnes "Porky" Scheissburger,
A giant of a woman with the sex-drive of a mad rhinoceros,
And only heir to her Daddy's enormous brewery fortune.
Thus, we toured from town to town through the gracious state
Everywhere gorging on the local delicacies of sauerkraut and beer
(with an occasional sidetrack towards a McNorwegian herringburger)
And, by a strange coincidence, every single evening we ended up
With our heads in the porcelain bowl, regurgitating our tasty meals,
Throwing up half-digested fatty lumps of gristle by the bucket-load,
Praying for deliverance from our self-inflicted abdominal agonies
(but how could we resist, they were so huge on the plate?)
One tragic evening in a tastefully decorated love-motel
On the outskirts of elegant Madison (where the dance comes from)
We were set upon by the enraged motel manager, one Mr Snottig,
A fifth generation Swedish-American of immense vulgarity,
Innate animal brutality and lack of basic human kindness,
Whose bestial strength and body odour could have won prizes.
I fortunately had time to run wisely like a seven foot five
Basketball hero chased by a runaway Hummer V8,
And hide in a convenient evergreen Finnish fir tree,
Whence I could see and hear the savage Mr Snottig
Rip dear Agnes's head off her shoulders, crush it utterly
Between his butch Scandinavian fingers and shove the bits
Down the toilet bowl as a sacrificial offering to the sewer god.
And for what? Just because we'd puked up a couple of gallons
Of the finest Milwaukee beer on the bed during a love-bout.
Had the man no sense of romance? Was he an unfeeling beast?
Oh sweet Lord, I shall never return to lovely Wisconsin again,
Especially since Daddy has placed a contract on my handsome hide.
==============================================
I posted this delightful poem at AllPoetry.com and I received this enchanting review a couple of days ago from some cowboy called "Ric". I append it for your amusement, and the American spellings/bad punctuation are funny too:
"I just read this piece of trash, what started out as a nice read turned into something vile and disgusting, my guess Mr. Hodges is you are a sick individual in great need of serious psychological help, to imply that an act such as this is acceptable is unconscionable. You have somehow used the fact that just because she is morbidly overweight and from a wealthy family that this action should be acceptable. You should seek counseling Barry and further more I’m shocked that it...has gotten applause, shame on you all and I am again surprised that I am the only one on here who has had the fortitude to speak out against this derogatory attack against women. I realize this is probably nothing more that a fabrication from within your sick mind but being said, this all the more justification for you to seek professional counseling. This contest itself is disgusting, shame on you too young lady you should have more pride in yourself than to promote something such as this, and shame on AP for allowing it."
