I would like a girl, begged Paul-
Get yer mind off the ladies, son,
we are here, one and all,
to eat and drink, have some fun.
You stink my friend, an' I miss my wife,
she doesn't burn the toast,
or, use my Swiss army knife,
when carving up the bloody roast.
I'm sick of looking at yer beard,
ya hairy legs and odorous smell.
I miss perfume of jasmine- I know I'm weird,
plus, her make-up tubes an' styling gel.
Halt! there John, we said no phones,
no texts, no selfies, no secret ploys,
no Android smiling googled clones!
Drink up my homeboys,
let's be merry, enjoy the stag,
the peace and quiet,
no wimmen folk here to nag.
Bring out the Twister and Monopoly,
partake in beer and wicked moonshine!
ferget the other half, the sorority,
an' revel in our manliness, no more whine!
The men chewed beef jerky
slurped on ale, and whiskey,
as their thoughts became quite murky,
Paul dreamed of Anna Mishkie.
(((the song of the manly men)))
Men, men, men, men,
bellies burping, rear ends afire,
we are manly men, men, men,
in our sweaty smelling attire.
No need for softer bodies when,
stubble and stale breath abound,
we shall be merry in our manliness,
let's share another round!
Feast upon the viddles, a fine
stag, an' such a bore.
Men, men, men, men...
*For The Mag