I'm a very impatient guy
I'm squeezing this little ball
It really makes me mad
My middle name is period, last name T
I'm a full-time bodyguard
Secretarial work is out
I look from this to the potential
Inventory of unrealised dreams
Intelligent mining
Intelligent transportation
The energy internet
Flexible electronics
Intelligent vehicle technology
Classical music with Johnny Greenwood
Canadian studies
Ric Flair's biography
We watch the international football
My Chinese brother-in-law
Gets excited when England's opposition
Have a chance to score
What's that about
I'm
Squeezing
This little ball
I wished I was a race car driver,
but it took money, and I never had enough.
And women did not do it back in the day,
and now I get so many jollies racing other
idiots on the freeway, I have my racing “fix”
both to work and from work,
so it is not my current wish.
I wished I was a secretary, until I became
on at a company where the other one had walked
off mad, and seven men stood behind me waving
hundreds of pages, yelling that they wanted me to
type their proposals first. I lost forty-pounds in two
weeks, and never got to go to the bathroom,
finally quitting after a little nervous breakdown.
The great news, is that my roommate was
their former secretary, and we had lots
of laughs at their expense while we recovered.
I wished I was a ballerina
But I never took dance lessons
Then I tore my ACL and my Meniscus
so now I barely walk
plus I have arthritis in my feet
and who wants to pay to see a
hundred and eighty-nine pound
sixty-seven-year-old with an apple
stomach in a tutu? Maybe my grandchildren
and the kids at school, and my arch enemy, Sheila.
Metatron’s secretarial skills, translating, recording Akashic; a vigilant worker, indeed!
Every soul is an author; the greatest literary compendium, the book of life, is written by all souls.
God makes no distinction; all souls, two-legged, four-legged, winged, scaled and finned, are the same; dust of Gaia; breath of God. As each completes a chapter, an angel’s ink well is refilled. He never tires of the duty.
She elegantly walked thru the corridor, clipboard clutched to her chest,
Of all the days at uni, this certainly had to be the best.
Tall and slender, with rich, red hair. Walking past, teasing. To the eye, very pleasing.
A secretarial look, but in a lab coat, not a suit and slender square cut specs.
Slowly, I was becoming a wreck.
A thick Irish accent, speaking softly, she said 'I want to make you my toy!'
With the words of Sam Beckett from Quantum Leap,
I nervously muttered 'Oh boy!'
The technicians in the corner, were egging me on. My heart raced, legs began to weaken. My face as bright as a beacon.
I finally woke and went to work
Hoping the dream would become reality
Throughout the offices handing out mail
Wishing I could find this stunning female.
At the end of the day, it was not to be,
The trolley, the post and me.