There was an Eagle Hunter of Kazakhstan,
which sounds like Eagle was hunted by man,
but the Eagle goes hunting,
the man sits doing nothing –
It’s a sweet gig for Eagle Hunters in Kazakhstan.
KAZAKHSTAN LIMERICK
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There was an Eagle Hunter of Kazakhstan,
which sounds like Eagle was hunted by man,
but the Eagle goes hunting,
the man sits doing nothing –
It’s a sweet gig for Eagle Hunters in Kazakhstan.
There was a Guinea Pig from Peru
who didn’t know just quite what to do.
He’d heard there were places
-- oh, so magical places –
where his kind lived as pets not as food.
Unless and until they cut me a check, I have no “association” with any brand.
I believe loyalty to friend, family, and nation can all be great virtues, but loyalty to a corporation is just silly. (They certainly won’t be loyal to you when it conflicts with what is best for the profit margin.)
A hardcore Metal drummer from Finland
refused to be without his sticks in hand,
but then the poor slob
couldn’t work a doorknob,
missed gigs, & got kicked out of the band.
There was a hockey player from Canada
who was entirely lacking in stamina.
He shot like a sniper,
but breathing was hyper,
He got outskated by dear old grand-ma-ma.
There was a chill burglar from Kenya
who, as he worked, listened to Enya.
It lulled him to sleep,
a sleep far too deep.
He woke up where burglars, they send ya.
Pie eating. I don't mean to be gluttonous about it, but I seldom eat a proper piece of pie. I'd say I get enough dessert, overall, but perhaps need to shift more of the balance of dessert in the direction of pie. Or maybe I just have a momentary hankering for pie, and this is all just meaningless rambles. I do not intend to build a pie-eating action plan, so things will probably remain as they are on the pie-eating front.
War is a Racket: The Antiwar Classic by America’s Most Decorated Soldier by Smedley D. Butler