David, This is unrelated, but I just wanted to say hi. I wrote you an email after checking out you family history project and had the e returned to me saying I had the wrong address. All I did was follow the old address. Odd. I don't get on much lately due to family issues and lack of time, but I did enjoy your site and have done on many occassions. Love the unbrella picture in Malaysia I think.
I met a hairy dromedary named Jerry last January while riding the afternoon ferry. His hump was in a slump because he lived in a dump with his dad who is a grump.
I taught him to hip. I taught him to hop. I taught him to slide. I taught him to bop. I taught him to sing. I taught him to dance. I taught him to jump like ants filled his pants.
Now his dance is so airy that when we got to the prairie he decided to tarry at a party and make merry with a lady dromedary. And now they have a daughter named Cherie.
Cute rhyme, David! I wondered what he was doing on a prairie also. And I think, because her poem is similar to it, that Quilly has read Giraffes Can't Dance. Or should.
5 comments:
'Cause, good golly, what's he doin',
If he's sittin' there stewin'?
Go ahead and take that jump,
You silly, hairy, four-legged lump!
David,
This is unrelated, but I just wanted to say hi. I wrote you an email after checking out you family history project and had the e returned to me saying I had the wrong address. All I did was follow the old address. Odd. I don't get on much lately due to family issues and lack of time, but I did enjoy your site and have done on many occassions. Love the unbrella picture in Malaysia I think.
But the question is what is a camel doing on the prairie?!
I met a hairy dromedary named Jerry last January while riding the afternoon ferry. His hump was in a slump because he lived in a dump with his dad who is a grump.
I taught him to hip. I taught him to hop. I taught him to slide. I taught him to bop. I taught him to sing. I taught him to dance. I taught him to jump like ants filled his pants.
Now his dance is so airy that when we got to the prairie he decided to tarry at a party and make merry with a lady dromedary. And now they have a daughter named Cherie.
Cute rhyme, David! I wondered what he was doing on a prairie also. And I think, because her poem is similar to it, that Quilly has read Giraffes Can't Dance. Or should.
Peace!
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