Bad Cold by Shel Silverstein

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  This cold is too much for my shortsleeve. Go get me a Kleenex--and fast. I sniffle and wheeze And I'm ready to sneeze And I don't know how long I can last.... Atchoo--it's to wet for a kleenex, So bring me handkerchief, quick. It's--atchoo--no joke, Now the handkerchief's soaked. Hey, a dish towel just might do the trick. Atchoo--it's too much for bath towel. There never has been such a cold. I'll be better off With that big tablecloth, No--bring me the flag off the pole. Atchoo--bring the clothes from the closet, Atchaa--get the sheets from the bed, The drapes off the window, The rugs off the floor To soak up this cold in my head. Atchoo-- hurry down to the circus And ask if they'll lend you the tent. You say they said yes? Here it comes--Lord be blessed-- Here it is--Ah-kachoooo--there it went.

The Philosophy of . . .

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A young man was talking with an astronomer when the conversation touched on spiritual matters. The astronomer said, “Do you want to hear my philosophy of Christianity?”

The young man said, “Yes!”

“My philosophy," said the astronomer, "is the Golden Rule, doing unto others as you’d have them do unto you, and God will treat you all right.”

The young man responded, “Would you like to hear my philosophy of astronomy? Twinkle, twinkle little star!”

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