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.
'Cause, good golly, what's he doin',
ReplyDeleteIf he's sittin' there stewin'?
Go ahead and take that jump,
You silly, hairy, four-legged lump!
David,
ReplyDeleteThis 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?!
ReplyDeleteI 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.
ReplyDeleteI 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.
ReplyDeletePeace!