Sissy: Hooray, the Gilmore Girls marathon is starting!
Biff: Yeah ... I gotta go re-paint the fence.
And your prize is. . .
A POEM, composed for you by the famous poet, Humphrey R. Snodgrass, who wrote such immortal odes as "To My Seasick Love, on a Stormy Sunday" and "Missing My Mistress Missing Me," and "Chow, You Sassy Thing."
My love, whose eyes are nothing like the waxing moon,
whose nose is like the tower of Babel
before it fell, sending people scattering like chaff
on a stormy Sunday,
whose lips are as soft as marshmallow cream,
whose breath is like the breeze from a hot dog cart,
but a really great one, with Chicago-style dogs and homemade buns,
and whose belly is like a heap of creamed wheat,
You inspire me to greatness, to haul myself off the couch
as on a stormy Sunday.
Oh, Love!
May I ever say,
Oh, Love!
R. Snodgrass begged us to relate that this poem could be utilized for many different occasions, but warned that such poetical words are full of power and must not be used lightly or while operating heavy machinery.
