Ode to a Gentlemen’s Club
With reluctance I go
To a bachelor party,
Then with folded arms sit
Like a grumpy old farty.
It never made sense
What would make this place neat.
Seems like a good rest’rant
That says, “Look but don’t eat.”
I stay unimpressed
Till a friend, on a whim,
Hands a bill to a dancer,
Saying, “Take care of him”.
So she crawls off the stage
To join me in my chair,
Then does a great handstand
In the space that we share.
As I smile quite stunned
At her butt in my face,
I suddenly grasp
The appeal of the place.
All worries all schedules
All plans and all fear,
Disappear in a flash.
There’s just now and here.
To go back to the rest’rant
And make a joke rude:
Though no eating’s allowed,
You can play with the food.
So I join in the fun,
Tipping each girl thats neared,
‘Cept the one I grew up with
‘Cause, Man! That was weird.
I alone in the group
Will recall this tomorrow.
As the one sober driver
No hangover sorrow.
The night flies by fast,
Everything’s going cool.
Then I’m purchased a lap dance
By some drunken fool.
As before, I expected
All look and no touch.
But I once more discover,
That I do not know much.
She envelops my face,
With breasts scented vanilla.
Stopping all of my air,
Which so quickly can kill-ya.
As consciousness wanes,
and its time for a nappy
One thought fills my brain,
“Well, at least I’ll die happy!”
4 comments:
have you heard Patton Oswalt. "finest. Hour"?
Nope, but I'm a fan of his, so I'll have to look for it, thanx!
NICE!!!
Many thanx. Yet another useless skill honed to perfection
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