Ode To All That Is Good
Dear Vodka,
How do I love thee,
You’re there when I need you
Not one to judge me.
A night on the town
An afternoon barbecue,
Mix you with Red Bull
Pardon me while I spew.
Please don’t be sad
It wasn’t your fault,
I mixed you with oysters
And a Nestle Quick malt.
There is a stanza here
That doesn't belong,
Be the first to find it
And I'll sell you Allison's bong.
Now back to our regular
Scheduled programming,
I pour me another
Grey Goose and cranberry.
Cause juice calms me down
My GI tract that is,
Though my vision is blurry
And I continue to whiz.
My aim goes to shit
My urine is clear,
My speech becomes slurry
I should switch to beer I fear.
But I tough it out
And carry on like a champ,
I pour me another
And give my urethra a clamp.
For it’s only 2:30
On this Monday afternoon,
Yet I feel like I started
Waaay too soon.
I have a long evening
Of debauchery ahead,
But I can’t find my legs
I fear you’ll make me brain dead.
Perhaps I should sit
And rest my weary head,
How the hell did I end up
In my neighbor’s tulip bed?
Six o’ clock rolls around
This Monday evening,
To drunk to continue?
Who am I kidding?
I introduce you to Red Bull
For the first time this hour,
As the caffeine rushes through me
I feel the rise to power.
A rise in my bladder pressure
Of atomic power
As I stand atop
Our town's water tower.
My junk in my hands
I giggle like shit,
I see the cops coming
I’m gone lickety split.
What happened after that
I don’t much remember,
I’m having trouble finding
A word to rhyme with remember.
My dear Vodka
I leave you with this,
You are my sweet
Russian French kiss.
And should your intoxicating
Bliss,
Persist to assist
In causing my thoughts to become amiss,
I shall continue to consume you
And allow you to take me
To your deep, dark, lonely, oceanic abyss.
How do I love thee,
You’re there when I need you
Not one to judge me.
A night on the town
An afternoon barbecue,
Mix you with Red Bull
Pardon me while I spew.
Please don’t be sad
It wasn’t your fault,
I mixed you with oysters
And a Nestle Quick malt.
There is a stanza here
That doesn't belong,
Be the first to find it
And I'll sell you Allison's bong.
Now back to our regular
Scheduled programming,
I pour me another
Grey Goose and cranberry.
Cause juice calms me down
My GI tract that is,
Though my vision is blurry
And I continue to whiz.
My aim goes to shit
My urine is clear,
My speech becomes slurry
I should switch to beer I fear.
But I tough it out
And carry on like a champ,
I pour me another
And give my urethra a clamp.
For it’s only 2:30
On this Monday afternoon,
Yet I feel like I started
Waaay too soon.
I have a long evening
Of debauchery ahead,
But I can’t find my legs
I fear you’ll make me brain dead.
Perhaps I should sit
And rest my weary head,
How the hell did I end up
In my neighbor’s tulip bed?
Six o’ clock rolls around
This Monday evening,
To drunk to continue?
Who am I kidding?
I introduce you to Red Bull
For the first time this hour,
As the caffeine rushes through me
I feel the rise to power.
A rise in my bladder pressure
Of atomic power
As I stand atop
Our town's water tower.
My junk in my hands
I giggle like shit,
I see the cops coming
I’m gone lickety split.
What happened after that
I don’t much remember,
I’m having trouble finding
A word to rhyme with remember.
My dear Vodka
I leave you with this,
You are my sweet
Russian French kiss.
And should your intoxicating
Bliss,
Persist to assist
In causing my thoughts to become amiss,
I shall continue to consume you
And allow you to take me
To your deep, dark, lonely, oceanic abyss.
