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.

Taming Ye Olde Nag; Or, A Word To Complainers.

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"A constant dripping on a day of steady rain and a contentious woman are alike." (Proverbs 27:15)

"Harping on the same string is an imposition on another person’s time and ears. The identical tune gets monotonous, and in time will vex the most patient listener. There is no quicker way to cause the welcome mat to shrink. The squeak of the hinges on the man’s door as you exit is sweeter to him than your onestring harping. Enough is enough. And the kindest thing we can say is that it is a plentiful lack of good judgment. That others may enjoy you, learn to play more than one tune." (Leroy Brownlow, 1914 - 2002)

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