BARBECUE AND DANCE
Lukewarm beer and cold champagne
Well, one out of two isn't bad...
At least the barbecue here isn't tough,
Even if I can't get my husband George to dance
Since it's mostly square dancing music.
I tried to line dance, but my bra strap
Kept falling down, and it made me lose count.
There's nothing worse than lukewarm beer.
My brother-in-law Clyde is here with his prissy wife.
That doesn't thrill me one bit!
SaraNell's gotten a new fashion frizzy perm
That she is sure to brag about (always does);
She must have three inches of black roots showing.
Heehee! Serves her right.
She never knew her ass from her elbow anyway.
Gawd! Don't tell me Clyde is going to try and dance
With me, he is all feet and must be size 13, too.
Yep, he is...dammit! Ouch!
If we didn't owe them money, I would sock him one.
Or even better, knee him. Clumsy idiot.
I think the lukewarm beer is coming back up on me,
Maybe if I was to back it down with some champagne?
Mmmm! Tastes pretty good. I think it says Cold Duck.
Now that is an odd name for champagne.
Stop whirling me around, George. It makes me dizzy.
How are the children? Well hell, I don't know.
They are all over eighteen anyway. You go look for them.
I'm having another glass of the Cold Duck stuff. *hic*
Come on, George! Show 'em how fast your feet can move!
Whoopsie!.... I think I will sit the next one out.
© August 2005
Beth Johnson
(Mystic Amazon)
