Man On The Moon

Saturday #3's

On your journal or mine write 3 words that describe how you feel or whats going on.
My 3 words are....
Smell like Goat

And as always,thanks for listening!

Can You feel The Love?

I went to the Doc's today for an over 40 physical and Debbie went with me.
As I was getting dressed I over heard the Doctor say to Debbie.......

Doctor: I don't like the way he looks Debbie.

Debbie: Neither Do I Doc but he is a great cook!

Can you feel the freakin' love here?

And remember....
Laissez les bon temps rouler!
And as always, thanks for listening!

Taking Lessons

My Daughter & I have completely different tastes of music, she likes rap and I like all kinds of rock.
Well some how she acquired lessons for two on the art of rapping , it was a 2 day trip for her & I to N.Y.N.Y.
We studied The world of rap in two days, from its beginning to present time rappers , also learned a few rhyming games to help with making rap songs.
I'll be freakin' honest here I think I like the rap scene.
You heard of 50 Cent?
They now call me 3 For A Dollar!

And remember.....
Laissez les bon temps rouler!
And as always, thanks for listening!

Women Have Ugly Feet

90% of the women in the world have ugly feet.
Open toed shoes should be reconsidered and sandals banned.
My Debbie has some seriously ugly feet,Just yesterday we went for a ride and ended up in the bad part of town, she decides to put her feet out the truck window to catch a breeze, we got shot at, her toes had been pointing in different directions, they thought she was flipping them gang signs!

And remember......
Laissez les bon temps rouler!
And as always, thanks for listening!

Sister Joan

Sister Joan, age 54, ignores the desert sun,
The stranded church bus smoking, no sign of anyone.
Buzzards circle overhead, panic starts to set.
The kids are getting restless, her habit soaked with sweat.
The minutes become hours, she wobbles in the heat.
Then, a distant engine roars, approaching from the East.
She squints through horn-rimmed glasses, her pure heart skips a beat.
Snake McGinty's Harley Hog, parts the dusty heat.
Black leather-clad from head to toe, his eyelids barely open,
Sister Joan says, "Holy Ghost, please tell me that you're joking."
He parks his bike, stands six foot four, then gives her a nod.
Through leather pants his manhood shows, she rolls her eyes at God.
"Havin' trouble?", he barely mumbles. "Yes sir", she replies.
He pops the hood, takes off his shirt, she covers up her eyes.
"Kids", she says, "Back on the bus. Everyone be good."
Her fingers part, her eyes take in his reflection off the hood.
She grips her rosary tight with guilt and stares down at her socks.
Her mind protects her vows with God, but her body picks the lock.
He bends to check the fan belt, her nipples say, "Hello".
Her eyes climb up his leather chaps like a snail with vertigo.
She shuts her eyes and shakes her head, her legs start feeling funny.
"Lord", she says, "For work like this, I'm making shitty money."
He shuts the hood, "My name is Snake, I'm wanted in five states."
She said, "Snake you're my forbidden fruit, and I need a little taste."
The kids look on in disbelief. The kiss is slow, then faster.
Cheering rocks the school bus, till she says "Snake let's ditch these bastards.
As they left, the kids screamed "No", she turned around and waved.
Her next confession killed a priest and lasted seven days.
For years the scandal rocked the church, but she regained their trust.
She still teaches Sunday school, but she doesn't drive the bus.


And remember............
Laissez les bon temps rouler!
And as always, thanks for listening!

Herpes