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Sunday, October 10, 2010

THE PERAMBULATING BLUES

My in-box brought me quite a plight from a very frustrated female who's only trying to do a healthy exercise by taking daily walks in her neighborhood recreation center. Unfortunately some of the regulars have annoyed her to the point of her having actually nicknamed the culprits. She refers to them as donkeys because they'll walk three abreast very slow, thus blocking the path while holding a gab fest along the way. Some that don't flap their jaws instead are flapping arms that tend to smack other walkers when trying to get past them. After receiving such a descriptive e-mail from this frustrated walker I was inspired to compose the following. Oh by the way, should anyone out there happen to recognize themselves in said inspiration, kindly pull to the right and let others pass. Don't make me blog you again!!

THE PERAMBULATING BLUES


Not so long ago and not so far away
A little walk I take nearly every day.
Here inside my neighborhood rec center
Comfortable in summer or come winter.

Oh yes, it's pounds I'd like to lose
But I've got the perambulating blues.

Around the three lanes we like to go walking
Works just fine 'cept for all the talking.
For three walkers in a row means all lanes blocked
And all they wanna do is talk and talk.

Oh yes, those lanes I'd so like to cruise
But I've got the perambulating blues.

Sometimes my walk finds me behind the Boxcar
A very short, very wide load so I can't get far.
Partnered with Methane and her Mr. Avon
For obvious reasons I really must move on.

Oh yes, I should have stayed home to snooze
For I've got the perambulating blues.

Isn't it enough my feet hurt so bad I could gasp
When Bulldozer steps on them as she walks past.
Next thing you know I dodge a punch to the eye
As I attempt to pass Madame Butterfly.

Oh yes, walking is all I really wanna do
But I've got the perambulating blues.

We've got Mz. Harley and her Sidecar
Once behind them you won't get far.
A true road-hog with her skinny mate glued at the hip
If only to pass them, maybe I should try and skip.

Oh yes, sometimes I may bruise
For I've got the perambulating blues.

And not to forget our little June Cleaver
In her tightly belted dress, she's quite the keeper.
Then dressed to the nines Marlena D, many face lifts and never sweats,
Out to snag her a rich old dude, I'd be willing to bet.

Oh yes, just listen to my clues
For I've got the perambulating blues.

In a little black dress blocking the way it's Granny Goodwitch
Changing tapes in her 8-track she makes me start to twitch.
Along comes Mr. 2nd Amendment displaying wrinkled bare arms
Drooling over Marlena expounding all his charms.

Oh yes, is walking the exercise I should choose
For I've got the perambulating blues.

Mustn't forget Mr. Chippenfail adjusting speed again and again
Barely in a speedo flirting with a chick he'd like to win.
Last but not least say hello to our nautilus man Jack LaPain
Constantly stretching in hopes height he'll someday gain.

Oh yes, I'm afraid it's all so true
No wonder I've got the perambulating blues!

Blessings!
Sister Very Catty

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