Dearest Readers. I learned a lesson this weekend. And such a life-altering lesson it was that I waxed poetic and composed a sonnet about it. For there are no other words to do it justice than those with rhyme and meter. Here they are, and please! Learn from my mistakes. Tread not the road I trod:
Gastroenterology – A Sonnet
‘Twas Friday, and my Hub I did entreat
to take me to the local Bar-be-cue
To dine on okra fried and pull-ed meat
and curly-fries all doused in spicy goo.
An icy Dr. Pepper topped the feast,
Whilst bready roll sopped-up the errant fat.
To get me through the door my sides were greased.
My innards gasped, “Why did you eat like that?”
“I do not know!” I wailed, in torrid pain,
Whilst lying ‘cross the back of leathern seat.
And in that state, I vowed to ne’er again
Indulge my lust for smoky southern meat.
“I’ve learned!” I said, and grabbed Garcia Cherry,
“To only eat with Ben and his friend Jerry!”
In short, I thought I was going to die. So naturally I reached for ice cream. Now I am dead. I am writing this to you from my cloud in heaven. But fear not. For I've submitted my resurrection papers so I can continue writing this blog and enjoying your friendhsip.
Until then (or my overindulgence is digested), I bid you farewell. I should be back tomorrow. Having eaten a bowl of shredded wheat.
Shrieking with glee! That sonnet is a masterpiece.
So was the barbecue, honey! Thanks babe. Glad to Glee you. 🙂
Tee hee! Truly an awesome poem of awesomeness.
i'm hungry… know any good places with awesome southern-style barbecue?
You are evil and must be destroyed.
NO. I don't even know what southern barbecue IS, thank you very much. Don't you have some homework to do?