(04 October 1943 / Germany)

A Poem For Our Juvies

The story of my uncle Fritz
is made up of so many bits
it started with the age of zits
then followed fifteen rowdy kids
who played with strangers, getting nits
and in the morning ate hot grits.
He drove a car named Opel Blitz
and crashed it, giving him the shits
he's dead but the description fits.

User Rating: 3,8 / 5 ( 5 votes ) 4

Comments (4)

Funny....really funny....I got a good laugh on this one!
This is very funny. I prefer this side fo you a lot. MM
Fecundity and profundity in every one ditty.. how do you do it?
You can come over and put the kids back to sleep.! ! ! ! ! I just woke them up with the biggest shriek of laughter I have had in days. WELL DONE. You do write some really good funny stuff. So smooth and simply clever. Thanks Hugs Jan