Okay, they're not quite love poems, but we're not quite "romantically involved".
There once was a girl named Kim,
Who had reading habits that were quite grim.
She read until she cried
About how everybody died
But all the crying kept her quite slim.
I have a good friend named Stobel.
She spends a lot of time on her mobile.
And I feel quite maligned
Because she left me behind
When she fled the States and went global.
After Kimmie had to move away
She fell in love with a man named Jose.
So she never came back
But lives in a shack
With her thirteen children. Ole!
Seriously, Kim, we are all going to miss you so much while you're gone. I know I will. Be safe (but be sure to catch a South American virus as a souvenir).
Hasta!! Adios. Que pasa? Enchilada. Vaquero. Zorro. Siete. Baja California. El nino. (That's pretty much all the espanol I know. And Zorro is really not a spanish word. He's a sword-wielding Mexicali crimefighter, like Cesar Chavez or El Guapo.)
4 comments:
Frickin amazing! Russ, how do you do it?
Kim (aka Stubie), tell Che hi for me.
Wow. You're a genius. I feel humbled to blog in your presence.
OH Rusty! I love your butt. You are so sweet. I am crying. And Ronnie, how do you know Che?
Hey there, whoa there . . . be careful what you wish her, Russ. I actually DID catch a South American disease when I was in Ecuador! But no worries--I was fine after a minor open chest lung surgery.
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