I have been gone too long. All ya’ll are getting all wound around your axles and serious. My Lords, and Gentlemen and honorable boards, I tell you; this must end!
Now is the time for the Havana Bourbonades, the specialty pizzas and picnics.
Darlings, be light, let us play.
Here is MY favorite poem of all time. Perhaps it is the rhythmic patter. Perhaps the slam-you-on-the-head obvious rhyme. Perhaps it’s the most estimable moral. Or maybe, (this from my caffeine induced haze) it is (gasp, please) All THREE!
Methuselah ate what he found on his plate,
And never as people do now,
Did he note the amount of the caloric count,
He ate it because it was chow.
He wasn’t disturbed as at dinner he sat,
Devouring a roast or a pie,
To think it was lacking in granular fat
Or a couple of vitamins shy.
He cheerfully chewed each species of food,
Unmindful of troubles or fears
Lest his health might be hurt by some fancy dessert,
And he lived over 900 years.
Foooood!!! more on that in a moment.