Ok.  Hunker down and slink around.

There’s a bad moon on the rise.

A stormy day, with soaking rains.

And a twister in the skies.

At 5 o’clock, sneak past the geese,

As I dive into my car.

I made it through another day.

Oh please, let me make it to the bar.

I saunter in, a familiar scene

The boys are laughing at me.

I am looking like a deranged old bag.

Could it be the chicken hat on me?

Oh who cares?

I love to have fun.

After a stressful day, I resolve to let loose.

And celebrate this Monday like a son of a gun.

Happy weed day, b wolf.

Enjoy your b day, Chicken B.

Watch out for the twister, mister.

And can you please excuse me cuz I have to pee?

(Wolf has left the building, giggling and hungry as a bear)

Hunker down and slink around.

Arrives home late again.

Hubby says: Hey, you old goat, there is a bad moon rising..

I look at this person, my husband, for years, and wonder what the hell is he talking about.

And he doesn’t wait for my answer.

He just drifts off.

We may be married for 29 years, but I often wonder if we really know each other.

I tell him I have changed my birthday to 420 and he tells me I am an idiot.

I go to bed.

The tornado rips

I am ripped.

He tucks me in.

We survive.

Until the next time.








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