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Wine / Whine
 

Puppy Love

      The little puppy's whining 'cause he wants a little play
      He wants to splash around a bit, has so much fun that way
      I called him Fido first of all then changed his name to Nick
      The way he licks and chews my shoes, it really gets my wick
      He likes a scratch behind the ears and on his belly too
      When he grows up into a dog, I don't know what I'll do
      I think he'll be gigantic like a massive St. Bernard
      Or maybe like a Great Dane, that would really hit me hard
      He'll eat me out of house and home, the supermarket too
      A super duper pooper scooper's right on the menu
      A cute wee pup no question, for attention he does pine
      Enough to get me stumbling for my early evening wine.
 

      slug
 
 

Party-Pooper

      The champagne was hard to use,
      For there was no corkscrew handy.
      When he substituted booze,
      Someone whined about the brandy.

      Said the host, "Your mind is small,
      But I hope you get my drift:
      Alcohol's still alcohol,
      Whether guzzled, sipped or sniffed.

      Surely anything you drink
      Will just leave you in a stupor.
      Now be quiet, or we'll think
      That you're just a party-pooper."
 

      Gerry
 
 

 Whine and Roses

      Is the cup half empty, half full
      Is it a legitimate whine, or just bull
      One man's meat is another man's poison
      We take to what some causes joys and,
      Whine like a teapot, whining hot and full
      Whine like a radial, feel a little pull
      Whine like a puppy dog that wants another cookie
      Whine like a racing fan that wants to call his bookie
      Me, I look around and I see there those worse off
      Yeah, my shoes are getting old, I have a little cough
      Luckily I still have feet, don't have tuberculosis
      Don't take time to whine too much, just stop and smell the roses

      fig
 
 
 
 

No Use Crying Over Spilt Wine

      Oh my goodness, oh my God I just spilt wine upon the keys!
      That's enough to send me quivering, praying on my knees
      "Please save my keyboard won't you? Let me type another word"
      Was that "Yes" you said or "No no no", I'm not sure what I heard
      Got a tissue and I poked it down to mop up all the drips
      With a skewer as a poker but the tissue turned to rips
      Then paper maché started forming underneath my keys
      Sticking them all wined together, oh my gosh, oh jeez
      Was I whining? Yes I was! I caught myself just doing that
      It's only a computer, just that I would miss a chat
      Talking with my friends who I have never met before
      Next time I get a bottle I will watch just where I pour!

      slug
 
 

Gen'ral Store

      Remember the merry ring of registers in the stores
      The coins, ca-ching, ca-ching, a-tumblin' in the drawers
      And now it's na-yeeep, na-yeeep, the printers drone and whine
      Compared to which sound ca-ching is happier every time
      Oh gimme the older days, of bangin' 'em shut spring doors
      The smells how they all mixed in, them good old gen'ral stores
      Yer nails and tack and beans, the yard goods, jeans, the pies
      Them spirally sticky things, way up to catch the flies
      Them creaky old hardwood floors, I miss the way they squawk
      Sometimes it almost seemed them noisy floors could talk
      And Heavens if they could, oh gosh what would they say
      Who ran up bills for what, who never quite did pay
      How many were wrote off, and credit gave once more
      Where charity was born, my hometown gen'ral store
      Where candies cost a nickle, except some kids were poor
      They got them for a penny, sometime got three or more
      But times move on I guess, and progress is the thing
      But I still miss that sound, and wish for one ca-ching

      fig
 
 

Figgy pudding

      It's Christmas day, like every year I'll spend it all in hiding
      As countless people prowl about in search of figgy pudding
      Why can't they eat of sluggy soup, or onions fried up hot
      What is the special quality that sweet sweet figgy got

      prune
 
 

 What a Day!!!

      We got up Christmas morning and we skipped our breakfast first
      We opened up the presents, that was really such a burst
      We started cooking dinner, opened up the sparkling wine
      And started drinking glasses, then, before we got to dine
      Now on my empty tummy, all the bubbles in my head
      I made distorted judgements of the recipe I read
      I put the grated cheese into the carrots' orange glaze
      And orange rind into the white sauce in my tipsy haze
      I had to tip them out and start again from the beginning
     But by the time the dinner came I found that I was winning
      Then after dinner, both of us collapsed to have a sleep
      While both our kids were playing 'round their parents in a heap
      Their Nana gone back to her flat and resting in her chair
      She had a headache and I think this day was hard to bear
      Then later, both of us revived, we got out the dessert
      Pavlova, brandy snaps and cream, I loosened off my skirt
      We finished off the sparkling wine, and got the coffee out
      A most exhausting Christmas Day we had without a doubt!
 

      slug
 

What a Day !!

      On Christmas Day we drove our car
      To Hamilton (N.Z.)
      And, there, we went to Rex's place,
      Where we were duly fed.

      Some cold glazed ham and salads,
      Tomato, lettuce and egg,
      Drenched in tasty mayonnaise,
      With wine, not by the keg !

      This was the perfect summer lunch,
      Enjoyed by Rex and Jo,
      Her parents, us and three grandkids
      For an hour or so.

      We also had pavlova with
      Strawberries and ice-cream,
      Of all desserts at Christmastime,
      Pavlova reigns supreme.

      Before we ate, we also had
      The presents to undo
      Amongst a lot of gaiety
      And children's hullabaloo.

      Afterwards the afternoon
      Quickly passed away
      And soon we drove back home again
      Just forty miles away.

      le fantôme amical
 
 
 
 

What a Day!

      On Christmas Day I spent the morn
      Preparing lots of roasts
      In between the sips of wine
      And making Christmas toasts
      The country way to celebrate
      Means glazed cold ham as well
      But roasted chicken, lamb and pork
      Were cooked and tasted swell
      We made mint sauce and gravy
      We boiled fresh dug spuds
      We roasted taties too of course
      ...and then there were the puds...
      Pavlova covered in whipped cream
      Figgy pudding too
      Fruit salad and some icecream
      And jelly Christmas hue
      I tried my best to eat some
      Each one, a little bit
      But I was feeling squeamish
      And my stomach had a fit

      Dense
 
 

Having a Whine
 

       "What a day!" I said collapsing on the couch and couldn't budge
       The drains were blocked, the sewer sank and in the driveway, smelly sludge
       A drainman came with camera, inserted it right up the line
       "The cost is megabucks" he said, "I'm really glad the bill's not mine!"
       "B-but surely we don't bear the cost? The drain is in the road!" I said
       And as he said "You do!" I felt this awful pain come in my head
       Then as I turned my head to see the sewer upside down on screen
       The water running topsy turvy, sight that I had never seen
       My daughter shouted down the drive, "Someone is on the phone for you!"
       "I'll have to go!" I turned and rushed and wondered how we'd flush the loo
       So here I sit, upon the couch with wine in hand and feeling low
       Wondering if we do not fix the leak where all the sludge will go.
 

       sludge
 

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