Rhyming About Bad Timing
I appreciate Roy’s well-intentioned Holy Grail
of solutions for turning-around a mega fail
but my ship had already set sail
as told in this self tattle tale!
The Fail started when I said Phuket, Thailand isn’t for me
in the middle of a Renaissance fair, where I had just set free
… well, …, you know, and it smelled like cabbage
causing serious damage to each nasal passage!
How to Prevail entailed a tall tale
about a frail quail, a pale snail
a humpin’ back whale, and
a horse with no name, er, tail.
All inhaled and were nailed
by the potent stale trail
of my backside exhale.
I was sent to jail and had to post bail
because the veiled female
holding the justice scale
said she wasn’t for sale
and blackmail failed.
Even my lawyer flailed
trying to derail
questioners wanting detail
about my degrees from Yale.
A Bachelors in Beer,
my specialty Pale Ales
And a Masters and Johnson
in college females.
Back to my stoy (sp?), Roy:
All Hail (sp?) broke loose when I let out a wail.
My pants of percale caught on a rusted doornail.
Then, I stubbed my toe on a large-scale pail.
Falling — I tried and missed the handrail,
but was caught by a Chippendale,
who went by Express Male.
Except for the all-too-visible contrail
I’d have sailed by the sphincter fail
which let loose a gale of smail (sp?)
that percale would have curtailed,
if not open-air after being doornailed.
Butt in the end, no coffin nail
no time served in jail.
The defense’s detail
that tipped the scale,
though it’s true the smail (sp?)
did the senses assail,
was not cabbage but kale
from an old wive’s tail!
All Hail, Roy!
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