THE LAST SHOWER

Two Wolves

2010-07-18T11:26:00.000-07:00

While a winter wind shrieked and howled in the night

An Old Cherokee told his grandson of an inner plight.

"My child, there's a battle between two wolves, inside us all.

One is Evil and feeds on lies and self-pity, as I recall.

It is anger and ego, and belongings envied,

It is jealousy and hate, regret and greed.

The other is Good. It is truth and joy, beauty and hope,

It is serenity and compassion and learning to cope,

And patience and faith, opposed to the other wolf's sins."

The little boy thought, then asked

"So, Grandfather, which wolf wins?"

"Which wolf wins? Which one indeed?

"Why, Grandson, it's always the one you feed."

Candle Light

2010-07-18T01:23:00.000-07:00

While a winter wind shrieked and howled in the night

A Sage and his grandson sat circled in candle light.

"Where does the light come from?" the Sage wanted to know

But the little boy blew out the candle with just one soft blow.

Then he said to his Elder, who couldn't see his head bent,

As respectfully he said –

"I'll tell where it comes from, if you tell me where it went."

Aux Contraire

2009-11-19T19:50:00.000-08:00

A passenger missing his passport,

Slowed the queue quite drastically

"Been to France before, monsieur?"

The customs officer asked quite sarcastically.

"Yes." Robert Whiting, 83, admitted,

Still searching, slow but steady,

"Then you should know enough

To have your passport at the ready."

"The last time I was here,

I didn't have to show it."

"No!" said the Customs Officer, "Not a chance!

Americans always have to show passports

On arrival here in France!"

"Aux contraire,"

Said the American senior "When I was here before,

As I came ashore,

Omaha Beach, D-Day,1944

I can assure you

I couldn't find a single Frenchmen

To show a passport to."

Caviar And Prawns

2009-11-14T19:55:00.000-08:00

She wandered room to room, sad and forlorn

The movers had come and not long gone

So she sat down for the last time at their beautiful dining table,

Candle-light, soft background music, and ate what she was able

Of a jar of his best caviar, fine wine, and king-sized prawn

Then, verifying what they say of hell, fury and a woman's scorn,

She went into each and every room,

In the gathering evening gloom,

And, muttering how all men were sods,

She took down each of the curtain rods,

And placed a little pawn and caviar in each rod's centre space,

Then carefully put each curtain rod back in it's place.

She cleaned up the kitchen and then alone, 

Left what had for so long been her home.  

Next day the husband and new girlfriend returned

And it wasn't too long until both were concerned  

That something was smelling

A little unusual about the dwelling  

They vacuumed, and mopped, everything they could think

Aired the house out, steam-cleaned carpets, to get rid of the stink 

Vents were checked for dead rodents or vermin

However there were none, far as they could determine,

But exterminators were called, and just to be sure,

They gassed the house out for three days or more,

And the upset couple had to stay

In a nearby motel, out of harm's way.

People stopped coming over to be wined and dined  

Repairmen turned up, but very soon declined  

To work in the house,

And the maid had long since resigned.  

Finally, they couldn't take the stench any longer, and decided to sell

This house, plagued by a woman's scorn, a fury was worse than hell

But a month later - though they'd halved their price - because of the smell 

No buyers would look at it, and the local realtors wouldn't as well.  

Unable to wait any longer

And fearing the smell would only get stronger

The couple burdened themselves with a huge bank loan

To enable them to buy a new, fresh-smelling, home.

Then the ex-wife called the man and asked how things were.

He broke down and related the long sad sorry saga to her.

And she said she missed her old home terribly, and despite it smelling

She'd willingly reduce her divorce settlement in exchange for the dwelling.   

Knowing she could have no idea how bad the smell could be

He offered the house at a tenth its market value, saying he would agree

But only the papers were signed that afternoon, no later than three.  

Within two hours her lawyers delivered the paperwork completed and done 

And a week later the man and his girlfriend stood smiling, as if they had won,

Watching the moving company pack everything. For certain,

They both really were sods

Since, to spite the ex-wife, they even took the curtains . . .

And the curtain rods!

adapted from an Internet Forward

In Another Man's Shoes

2009-11-07T22:08:00.000-08:00

Intend you to say of another, other than good,

Perceived wisdom suggests it's best that you should,

Withhold your views, until in the other man's shoes,

You have walked a mile - then have your say!

Because now he's left barefoot and you're a mile away.

And RIP Smoking?

2009-11-05T20:08:00.000-08:00

We suggest [ the post below] how to sort MMP List Members, so in a burst of mania, we would also tackle smoking, since television ads now say it kills one in two participants, let alone the cost this habit is to the nation*.

We would advocate presentation of a licence, similar to a driver's licence, to be made a requirement for the purchase of tobacco products. No personal ID'ed Smoker's Licence - no sale. This licence should be available to anyone over 18 years of age, with a doctor's relevant certificate, but on issue for a period of three months only - so anyone believing they are dependent on, or addicted to tobacco may in that time avail themselves of the licence. After the 3 month period no more licences would be issued - ever - other than replacement of lost cards.

This will cater for those dependent or addicted now - the group always regarded as a 'difficulty' when bans are spoken of, but would make tobacco products inaccessible to new buyers.

There would be an inevitable abuse of the system, with black market licences, the need to provide for tourist smokers and other problem areas, but those would probably not outway a serious consideration of a step like this, which would hopefully deplete the market, by natural attrition, to the point where tobacco companies would find their operation unsustainable.

* The various costs of smoking are said to deplete the New Zealand economy by over $1.5 billion per year, and with tobacco tax generating approximately $1 billion per year, this is an annual short fall of half a billion dollars.

RIP List Members of MMP

2009-11-05T17:42:00.000-08:00

This chart is made up from

figures [black numbers only]
taken from
http://2008.electionresults.govt.nz/
electionresults_2008/saint_lague.html

The % vote per member column

and it's percentages are ours

RIP

LIST MEMBERS

OF MMP

Our proposal is that Parliament should exist of Electorate Members only and that those Electorate Member numbers for each party be divided into their Party Vote total to give a voting value for each Electorate Member.

So National's 41 Electorate Members would each have a 1.17% vote to give their 48.08% party representation, by Party Vote. [48.08% ÷ 41 = 1.17%]

Labour Electorate Members would have a slightly higher vote each, 1.73%, but there are only 21 of them, so that gives them their 36.37% party representation [Party Vote]

A Party which passes the 5% Party Vote thresh-hold to qualify for Parliament but doesn’t have any Electorate Members [Greens, this last Election] would be represented by the party leader.

This does away with 52 List Members

The figures may seem complex at first but could be worked out by your smarter ten-year old with a $20 Warehouse calculator. Party votes [nearly every vote in Parliament] are constant. Conscience votes may take a little more calculation, but that’s okay, and would depend on whether voting is simply by 'one member, one vote' each [they would be acting as Electorate representatives, referring back to their Electorates one would hope], or the percent value system [so still by a Party Vote basis].

Notes on % column in the chart above.

* The Greens gained no Electorate Seats so their Party Leader would enter Parliament with a vote of 7.19%.

** The Maori Party won five Electorate Seats, but only a 2.55% Party Vote, so that divided by the five maintains their proper Party Vote total, which 5 members in the present Parliament don’t accurately reflect.

*** The figures in the % value column are to two decimal places only, so add up [when multiplied by Electorate Member numbers] to a total of 99.83%. Full decimal place numbers [for example, a National member would be 1.172682926829%] would total 100% when computers are used for vote totaling, or stored as constants in a Warehouse $25 calculator.

Don't Take Your Gun To Town Son

2009-11-02T15:10:00.000-08:00

[PGR]

A successful Aussie rancher died and he left

Everything to his devoted wife who was totally bereft

But although being a very good-looking woman, intelligent and charming

She determined to keep the ranch, despite knowing little about farming.

So she placed an ad in the newspaper "RANCH HAND WANTED", but to her dismay

Only two cowboys applied and one was a drunk and the other was transvestite gay.

And when no one else applied she decided to hire the gay guy, 'cos to her way of thinking

It would be safer to have him around the house, than a man addicted to drinking.

He was a hard working man who put in long hours each day

And nothing at all seemed effected by the guy being obviously gay

At least not in any confusing BROKEBACK MOUNTAIN sort of way

[where Jack drives a blue Ford truck,supposedly in Wyoming, 1963

When Ford produced this truck grill specifically in '76 and '77, so how could that be?]

He knew ranching well and the couple laboured hard so soon the land looked just grand.

"You have done a really great job!" the rancher's widow said to her hired gay hand

"There ain't nothing around here to offer well earned rewarding joys

So you should go into town to the pub and kick up your heels with some of the boys"

And the hired hand readily agreed she was right

So rode into town on his steed next Saturday night.

Midnight, then one o'clock came however, and he hadn't returned

Two o'clock, no hired hand, and the widow was becoming concerned

Finally around two-thirty, he entered the room, fire still burning on,

But the lamps were away down dim

He found the rancher's widow sitting sipping a glass of Penola Coonawarra Sauvignon,

Waiting up just for him.

She quietly called him over to her. "Unbutton my blouse and take it off,"

She said and, trembling, he did as she directed, with a nervous little cough

"Now take off my boots." ever so slowly, he did as he was bid

[Just like the scene in BUTCH CASSIDY AND THE SUNDANCE KID,

Where Katharine Ross at gunpoint was forced to surrender most of her clothes]

"Now take off my socks." so gently he removed each one of those

Placing them neatly by her boots. "Now take off my skirt." she firmly commanded

Her eyes reflected the fire light, his unbuttoning hindered because he was so fumble handed

"Now take off my bra." Again, with trembling hands, he un-did as he was required

And dropped it to the floor. He felt a trickle here and another there as he perspired,

Then she looked at him and gently said, "Let me make it quite plain, as I explain,

If you ever wear my clothes into town again . . . you're fired."

ROAD RAGE WARNING!

2009-05-28T16:18:00.001-07:00

A man who knows his math writes "I was riding to work yesterday morning

When I saw a female motorist cut in front of a truck, without any warning

Causing the driver to steer onto the shoulder to avoid hitting her

So he hung his arm out his window and wavered a middle finger.

Out of ear-shot, she couldn't be verbally berated

Which is why the male just digitally gesticulated.

'Man, that guy is stupid,' I thought to myself 'What a dopey guy'

In the aftermath of a female swerving across my path,

I ALWAYS smile nicely, wave sheepishly, and here's the reasons why:

I drive ninety six miles every day,

Forty eight miles to and from work each way,

Of these, sixteen miles there and sixteen back are bumper-to-bumper, you'd say,

So there're seven cars every forty feet for thirty two miles on an eight-lane motorway -

This multiplied out for vehicles confronted, gives you a score

Of thirty one thousand, four hundred and twenty four,

While the rest of the trip I pass at least four thousand vehicles more,

Bringing the total number to something like, let us say

Thirty six thousand cars that I pass each day.

And statistically half of these, driving mostly nose-to-tail,

Roughly eighteen thousand drivers, will be female.

Of whom six hundred and forty two will have upset emotions, already tender

Since one in twenty eight has PMS, as delineated by gender.

Then, according to Cosmopolitan, seventy percent of this group describe their love life

[That's four hundred and forty nine] as dissatisfying, unrewarding, and embroiled in strife

While the National Institute of Health, says twenty two percent of all females

[That's ninety eight here] have seriously considered homicide, and all that entails,

With thirty four percent, or just under, describing men with whom they live

[That's thirty three of our number] as a dopey buggers they can't forgive.

And finally according to the National Rifle Association, lastly but not least,

Five percent of all females carry weapons, and this number has just increased.

That means that EVERY SINGLE DAY, in my early morning or late afternoon motorway ride

I drive past at least one female who is PMS deranged, and seriously considering committing homicide

She lives a lousy love life and feels estranged from a man she considers would be better embalmed

And, as the above statistics show,

This woman may be in the five percent who are armed . . .

Chance giving her The Finger?

No . . . I don't think so."

adapted by Yvette

How far 100 Euro can go

2009-05-27T23:46:00.001-07:00

In a small town on the South Coast of France

Although it is August, you can see at a glance

While the tourist season should be in full swing

It hasn't really amounted to anything -

It is raining, and besides being very wet

Everyone in this small South Coast French town is heavily in debt.

Luckily, a rich Russian tourist arrives in the foyer of the small local hotel.

He puts a one hundred Euro note on the reception counter, and rings the bell,

He asks for a room, he takes the key, and goes to see

The room located up the stairs, on the third floor

Up sixty steps or more -

Yes, for a hotel in a South Coast French town so small,

It is still a hotel that is rather tall

The hotel owner takes the banknote, with un-contained glee

And rushes to see

His meat supplier, to whom he owes just that amount.

And the butcher takes the money

And races to his supplier to pay his account.

The wholesaler runs to the farmer to pay, wouldn't you know,

Exactly the same sum for pigs he'd purchased a while ago.

Then the farmer triumphantly pays the one hundred Euro

To the local Lady of the Night

Who'd given him her services on credit, much to his delight.

And the Lady hastens back to the hotel,

Where her room debt was, just as well,

Exactly 100 Euros. So she settles her affairs

Just as the rich Russian is coming back down the stairs

Exhausted from going up, then coming back down

He informs the hotel owner, with a thunderous frown,

That the proposed room is unsatisfactory, he is really quite miffed

That such a small but tall hotel should have no lift

He makes a comment about small South Coast French town upstarts

Then takes his one hundred Euros back and quickly departs

There's been no profit or gain, but yet

Everyone is now cleared of their debt

And they all look optimistically towards their future, no one complaining

Even if a rich Russian thinks the small

South Coast French town hotel is too tall

And the rain still goes on raining

adapted by Yvette

Up in Iron Mountain

2009-03-14T19:58:00.000-07:00

A Canadian law enforcement officer stops at a ranch up in Iron Mountain, B.C.

Talks with the old owner, who looks more from the era than the state, maybe.

He tells the rancher, 'I need to inspect your ranch for illegally sown

Drugs - you know : marijuana or pot, weed, stuff that shouldn't be grown.

The old rancher says, 'Okay, but don't go in that field over there.'

The Officer verbally explodes, saying haughtily, 'Mister, I'll go just anywhere.

I have the authority of the Federal Government with me.'

Reaching into his rear pant pocket and removing his badge, "See?

The officer proudly displays it to the farmer, reaching out his hand

"This badge means I am allowed to go wherever I wish on any part of your land.

No questions asked or answers given. Have I made myself clear? Do you understand?"

The old rancher nods politely and goes on about his chores,

And ignores the officer, the rancher is relaxed in his mind

Until he hears loud screams and spies

The man running for his life and close behind

The rancher's bull, inspiring the officer's frantic cries,

Sheer terror shows in the officer's eyes,

And every muscle in his body is straining

As every step the bull is gaining.

The old rancher immediately throws down his tools,

Runs to the fence, 'Yep! - there ain't no telling some fools'

And yells at the top of his lungs as loud as he can manage

"Your badge! Show him your bloody badge!"

adapted by Yvette

Sow-and-sos

2008-10-23T10:34:00.000-07:00

There was a hard labouring farmer who raised watermelons of which he was rightly proud

But was disturbed each morning as he found some of best had overnight been devoured

By kids who'd sneaked into his watermelon patch and helped themselves to the very best.

So after careful thought the farmer had an idea he believed would put this nuisance to rest

His plan would get rid of this night-raiding pest

He believed he'd scare the kids away for sure -

He made up a sign and posted it in the field on the side

Which the kids used for access, and this is what they saw

"Warning!! Intending thieving young felons

One of the watermelons in this field has been injected with cyanide."

But the kids ran off and made up their own sign, then fixed it next to one which the farmer had put on display.

So next morning, because of his warning, the farmer was very pleased to survey

His fields untouched and no watermelons were missing, but his joy soon turned to dismay.

Because the new sign next to his, when drove close enough for a better view

From the seat of his tractor, and with his spectacles on, he read: "Now there are TWO".

The Texan

2008-10-22T16:09:00.000-07:00

A Texan boarding a plane in Minneapolis, found

He'd been seated next to a very nervous man,

Chewing his nails, he was, and they hadn't yet left the ground.

The Texan says, "Are you a-feared about flying?"

The man replies "No, I'm just a bit scared about dying

I've learned I am being transferred to Dallas, for work you see

I have never been to Texas before, and I'll have to move my whole family.

George Bush comes from this state, shouldn't that be enough said?

But wasn't it on the South Texas Armstrong Ranch that the trigger-happy Vice President

Cheney, after quail, and Harry Whittington didn't duck, and was nearly shot dead instead

So it's worrying to hear everybody carries a gun,

And the schools are terrible." The man looked really glum

So what of the safety of my kids, crime is way high, I afraid for each's life,

Not to mention that of my high-strung over-anxious wife"

The Texan grins and says "Don't worry partner, that's all on TV.

I've lived in Texas all my life, and it's a wonderful state - you'll see

Your family will settle in just fine, as did mine . . . eventually"

The Minnesotan smiles "What can I say?

Thanks, I feel a lot better. But what do you do in Texas, by the way,

What do you do for a job, to earn your pay, to turn a buck?"

"Well," the Texan replies. "Employment wise, I had really great luck

I'm a tailgunner on our local milk truck."

The Universe and all that . . .

2008-10-09T23:42:00.000-07:00

The Earth's orbit is by chance oval, which is why

We neither freeze to death nor frizzle and fry,

And an axis, by chance if it varied five degrees, we'd all die

But it gives the season's of growth, harvest, death then rebirth

['Rebirth' doesn't rhyme just here,

but wait to the end of the next verse, it will do there]

Then there's the moon: asteroids and bits and pieces of debris

That coalesced into one mass, just the right weight and distance to be

The life supporting influence that gives us the tides of the sea

So far that's only about seven random miraculous chances just to create Earth

Then gravity-defying atoms came hopping around in order for a chance birth.

Chances which are trillions to one

And yet the simplest form of life isn't yet begun

Needing a row of 121 animo acids to form a base

All orientated in the right order and not one out of place

And not all 'right' because some must orientate 'left'

120 orientated the correct way, with only one to go, by a 50-50 quirk

If it's a leftie that's a 'rightie', then 'right' is 'wrong', and the 121th just won't work.

What a pain,

The chances of trillions to one,

Must start all over again

THE RESTAURANT AT THE END OF THE UNIVERSE or

LIFE, THE UNIVERSE AND EVERYTHING,

One of them states the answer is 42, not 44

On the 42nd toss of the dices in a rather large hand

Millions of them, if not trillions of them, of dices you understand:

In a symbiotic cosmic kersplat!

And what would be the cosmic chances of that?

Well, Someone with plenty of brains and not a lot else to do

Says to work all these chances through

Would take 70 trillion years, to about the nearest year

Considerably longer, it would appear,

Than the time the Earth has actuallty been here.

And those 121 animo acids which form a life's base,

Would need another set of them to come face to face

Or ass about face, which ever would induce

These brainless entities to think 'Let's reproduce!'

And it takes about 250,00 calves to establish a new bovine feature

Just think of the time to evolve each unique creature

Even take two examples of quite small size

These two samples of butterflies

One has developed an extra disguise

Clear 'glass wings' to make it harder to see

Some initial fault, some chance DNA coding quirk

That has become an obvious advantage in camouflage work

So what were the chances of this happening again

To develop a species which all have this strain?

And the solar system itself, where did that come from

When everything [or whatever] went bang - went off like a bomb

There was NOTHING there, not even a vacuum was not hanging about

Unless the universe immediately turned itself inside out

Otherwise there was nowhere for it to explode to

The inside-out universe must've moved at a hell of a pace

With the Big Bang just behind it in a cosmic race

And out there, Somewhere, this must still be taking place.

But it's a comfort to me to know I'm not just the odd one out

That right from it's inception the universe has been inside-out

It explains a lot . . .

And all those chances - cosmic positioning, accidental axial angles,

At least 121 acids uniting after trying trillions of ways

Rather than Someone knocking it all up in just six days

And on the seventh having a well enough earned break.

Well, You'd need it, considering all those chances You'd have had to take.

And then not revealing that You had done it all - what humility

From its inside-out inception to it going on still . . . and on . . . into Eternity.

Waltzing Matilda

2008-10-03T19:17:00.000-07:00

A Blonde was sent on her way to Heaven, obviously dead

But upon her arrival, a concerned St Peter said

"I'm sorry, but Heaven is suffering from an overload

And new entrants now have to be examed, and failures are just slightly damned

And sent Down the road

"That's cool" said the Blonde, "Of what does the Entrance Exam consist?"

"Just three questions" said St Peter. "But first I have to insist

You do realise 'you'll be voted off', bad news, no clues, if just one of the answers is missed?"

"The first," said St Peter, "is which two days of the week start with the letter T?

The second is How many seconds are there in a year?

And the third is What was the name of the swagman in Waltzing Matilda?"

And none of that rhymes, but that happens at times.

"Now," said St Peter, "Go away and think about those questions as you ought

So the Blonde went away and gave the three questions a considerable amount of thought.

She knew "Down the road" was a euphemism, and from where she stood

Such a euphemism didn't appear to be really so very good.

The following morn', St Peter summoned the Blonde and asked "Do you to have those three answers for me."

To which she replied, "I have." "Well then," said St Peter, "Which two days within a week start with the letter T?"

The blonde said, "Today and Tomorrow." St Peter thought this was fair

Today and Tomorrow would fall within a week, that was all quite clear

"Well then, could I have your answer to the second question of the three?

"How many seconds in a year?" "Twelve". "Only twelve?" exclaimed St Peter, "How can that be?"

"Easy," said the Blonde, "there's the second of January, the second of February . . .

Right through to the second of December, a total of twelve seconds, far as I see"

St Peter looked at the Blonde and said,

"I'll need to think" and 'maybe over a little drink'

And he walked away shaking his head.

A short time later, St Peter returned to the Blonde.

"I'll allow that answer to stand,

But now, on the other hand

This next answer can't be in the slightest doubt

The final question must be absolutely correct or you're out.

'What is the name of the swagman in Waltzing Matilda?"

The blonde replied: "Of the three questions, I found this the easiest to answer."

See? - no rhyme to 'Matilda' nor 'answer' neither

However the question is harder, "Waltzing Matilda' doesn't name the swagman either

But the Blonde replied: "Of the three questions, I found this the easiest I think."

"Really!" exclaimed St Peter, feeling the need for a second drink

"It's Andy." "Andy??" "Yes, Andy," said the Blonde.

Totally floored St Peter, turned and paced away

A second drink was bad so early in the day

Finally, he could stand the suspense no longer, staring the Blonde in the eye,

asked "How in God's Name [Ooops!] did you arrive at THAT reply?"

"Easy" said the blonde, not raising the attempt to be foiled

"Andy sang as he watched, Andy waited 'til his billy boiled"

Epilogue

"Well," said St Peter, "Here's your Heavenly Pass"

And as she turned to enter, thought 'really nice ass'

"By the way? How are you so attractive and really quite smart?"

"Learned from an expert - you may see him shortly - "

[of course everyone does - Like Nero, Ghengis Khan, Lenin, and Alphonse Capone, but they've not all been bad

there's also short persons like Danny Devito, Dustin Hoffman, Horatio Nelson and Alan Ladd]

" 'Dead in the polls' some experts say,

Could soon be passing up this way -

But word your questions better so a just technically right answer isn't enough

As one man has said 'I voted for him once, now with deep regret [he really was quite tough]

As he has shown himself to be a very dishonest, manipulative, smarmy, [he didn't hold back]

Smug, unprincipled rogue. He has no moral scruples, has lied,[this guy was right on track]

He is abusive, rude, insulting to anyone who dares question his integrity.'

And I'd guess lacking now in charity

So I'd ask which specifically

Which ones received any part of the $158,000 he owed

And that could help you see,

Where he needs to be:

Definitely 'Down the road'.

To ease your Heavenly Overload."

"Thanks" said St Peter - her beauty, intelligent advice, that rather nice ass

While I wait for this guy I think I'll just chance a third glass.

Today will be yesterday tomorrow, even considering the week,

This is 'One for Down the Road', so to speak.

[Alas, Bloody Winston is still around, and never paid the $ 158,000 back]

Snow White

2008-10-02T20:20:00.000-07:00

The seven dwarfs left for work each day at the crack of dawn

And Snow White did domestic chores throughout the morn'

And also prepared their lunch and carried it to the mine

Through the forest, over the log bridge, getting there just at lunchtime

But one fateful day not long ago she arrived at the mine, to a frightful din

The rumble of rocks, and cries of pain, as there is a massive cave-in.

Tearfully fearing the worst, Snow White pushed rocks aside

Making a gap to squeeze inside

Hoping against hope that all the dwarfs had survived.

"Hello!" she shouted. "Grumpy or Sleepy? her voice quavered in fear

Doc, Sneezy, Bashful, can anyone hear?"

Losing hope, Snow White shouted again, "Even Happy, are you there?"

A pain in her heart for Happy was the hardest to call,

In the still which followed the rock fall.

Just as she nearly gave up all hope, she heard a voice 'tho faint with pain

From deep within the mine, saying; "Vote New Zealand First again . . ."

It nearly Petered out, but once more . . .

It said "Winston's the one to vote for"

Snow White on her knees, beset with grief, praying to God for any to survive

Cried "Oh, thank you, Lord!" in great relief "At least Dopey is still alive."

International readers:

Substitute your own favourite political party and its leader's name as appropriate

Phonics

2008-09-25T18:35:00.001-07:00

My great niece is learning to read

Taking it up with amazing speed

So proud to display, just what she's learned each day

"Look!" flipping through a animal book

To do with the zoo

"See this: A frickin' elephant - take a look"

Take a look? - I'm taken back, what should I say?

Why, we just don't talk that way.

Well, a little swearing,

But never within her tender hearing.

I breathed in deep and took a pause,

Then asked "What did you say it was"

"It's a frickin' elephant, what else can it be, because

It says under the photo, don't you see?"

And so it does

African Elephant

Clever little one . . .

Ah, phonics - would 'whole language' be half the fun?

inspired by YRHNR and Stacey