Thursday, November 13, 2014

"A HARVEY WALLBANGER KILT MY ROOSTER"



TRUTH CAN BE STRANGER THAN FICTION
*************************************************

She was a lady,
    no question.

Worked at the movie studio
    keeping things clean.

Vacuumed in high heels and
    her fur coat!

Drove two '59 Jaguars,
    XKE 150 convertibles...
one turquoise and one white...
    chosen daily by the mood
she was in.

Lived on a few acres
    out in the valley
with her friends---

Foghorn Leghorn, a three-feet 
    tall, two year old Rhode 
Island Red rooster...

Also, Lippy LaRue, a male sheep, 
    who liked riding in the back seats
of convertibles.

There were other household pets---
    Ewes, Shirley, Maisie, and
Stacy, the six-pack Heineken drinker...

And lastly, the sheep called
    "Old Man," once a movie star,
advertising ivory Soap.

The lady, lonely, depended on these
    friends for companionship and
each day at five o'clock Happy Hour
    she had a drink with Stacy or
Foghorn Leghorn, her beloved rooster.

One day, she was drinking with 
    Foghorn, and he wanted two
drinks...(he was young and under 
    age),  so he had Two 
"HARVEY WALLBANGERS," 
    fell off his perch
and broke his neck.

Broken -hearted, the lady was
    heard to mourn:

"It was the Harvey Wallbangers
    that KILT HIM."

*******30******
BY MIL
11/13/14


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