Tomorrow...
 

TWAS THE NIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS and all through the boat,
The bilge pumps were hustling to keep us afloat,
The children were nestled all snug in their berths,
(We sleep here most nights to get our money's worth)

As Ma read Jackie Collins and I guzzled beer,
She said "You've had enough, now come to bed dear."
Then out on the dock there arose an uproar
As I reached in the Igloo to get just one more.

So up went my head out of the hatch.
(Though I should have thought first to undo the latch.)
I saw stars for a moment, and as quick as a blink
My wife yelled, "See, you've had too much to drink!"

The moon on the water lit the marina up bright
(Which was good, since the kids had lost my flashlight.)
Then what with my wondering eyes should I see,
But a fat, fuzzy old guy in a Bayliner Capri.

Instead of an outboard hung on the rear,
Tied to the bow were eight tiny reindeer.
More rapid than Reggie, these coursers they flew,
And on each of their hoofs was a Topsider shoe.

With crashing and bashing and banging and knocking,
I knew in an instant they must be docking,
"No Dasher! Hold it, Dancer! Damn you Prancer and Vixen.
Stop, Comet! Grab a line, Cupid! Get bumpers, Doneer and Blitzen!
Look out for that boat! Watch that seawall!
Now fend off, fend off, fend off all!"

He was dressed in a red cap ringed with fur trim
Along with a Speedo that covered just a fraction of him.
I was shocked and astonished. What could I say?
I also go boating dressed exactly that way.

He then grabbed a bag, a bulging huge sack,
And hoisted it up onto his back,
He also had sponges and a mop in his grip,
As he waddled his way o'er to my slip.

He said "My name's Nick, and my friend, I can tell
That your gel coat needs buffing and your teak looks like hell.
Your vinyl needs cleaning, your lockers arranging,
Your holding tank pumping, and your oil a-changing,
You've put these jobs off for too long and you know it.
So here's all that you need. This time don't blow it."

Then as quick as he came, he was back on his boat,
His reindeer revving and eager to tote.
"Merry Christmas!" he called as they cruised through the night.
"And regarding the beer Joe, your wife she is right."

L8R, y'all

Skip

--
Morgan 461 #2
SV Flying Pig KI4MPC
See our galleries at www.justpickone.org/skip/gallery !
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"Your time is limited, so don't waste it living someone else's life.
Don't be trapped by dogma - which is living with the results of other
people's thinking.
Don't let the noise of others' opinion drown out your own inner voice;
and most important, have the courage to follow your heart and intuition.
They somehow already know what you truly want to become.
Everything else is secondary".
- Steve Jobs

Tomorrow...
 

On Tue, 23 Dec 2014 08:42:28 -0500, "Flying Pig"
wrote:

TWAS THE NIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS and all through the boat,
The bilge pumps were hustling to keep us afloat,
The children were nestled all snug in their berths,
(We sleep here most nights to get our money's worth)

As Ma read Jackie Collins and I guzzled beer,
She said "You've had enough, now come to bed dear."
Then out on the dock there arose an uproar
As I reached in the Igloo to get just one more.

So up went my head out of the hatch.
(Though I should have thought first to undo the latch.)
I saw stars for a moment, and as quick as a blink
My wife yelled, "See, you've had too much to drink!"

The moon on the water lit the marina up bright
(Which was good, since the kids had lost my flashlight.)
Then what with my wondering eyes should I see,
But a fat, fuzzy old guy in a Bayliner Capri.

Instead of an outboard hung on the rear,
Tied to the bow were eight tiny reindeer.
More rapid than Reggie, these coursers they flew,
And on each of their hoofs was a Topsider shoe.

With crashing and bashing and banging and knocking,
I knew in an instant they must be docking,
"No Dasher! Hold it, Dancer! Damn you Prancer and Vixen.
Stop, Comet! Grab a line, Cupid! Get bumpers, Doneer and Blitzen!
Look out for that boat! Watch that seawall!
Now fend off, fend off, fend off all!"

He was dressed in a red cap ringed with fur trim
Along with a Speedo that covered just a fraction of him.
I was shocked and astonished. What could I say?
I also go boating dressed exactly that way.

He then grabbed a bag, a bulging huge sack,
And hoisted it up onto his back,
He also had sponges and a mop in his grip,
As he waddled his way o'er to my slip.

He said "My name's Nick, and my friend, I can tell
That your gel coat needs buffing and your teak looks like hell.
Your vinyl needs cleaning, your lockers arranging,
Your holding tank pumping, and your oil a-changing,
You've put these jobs off for too long and you know it.
So here's all that you need. This time don't blow it."

Then as quick as he came, he was back on his boat,
His reindeer revving and eager to tote.
"Merry Christmas!" he called as they cruised through the night.
"And regarding the beer Joe, your wife she is right."


I fail to see the humor in portraying respectable
sailors as a bunch of Speedo-wearing, procrastinating
drunks who all have nagging wives and keep their
unkempt vessels at a dock.

--
Sir Gregory

Tomorrow...
 

On Tue, 23 Dec 2014 17:42:37 -0500, "Sir Gregory Hall, Esq."
wrote:

On Tue, 23 Dec 2014 08:42:28 -0500, "Flying Pig"
wrote:

TWAS THE NIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS and all through the boat,
The bilge pumps were hustling to keep us afloat,
The children were nestled all snug in their berths,
(We sleep here most nights to get our money's worth)

As Ma read Jackie Collins and I guzzled beer,
She said "You've had enough, now come to bed dear."
Then out on the dock there arose an uproar
As I reached in the Igloo to get just one more.

So up went my head out of the hatch.
(Though I should have thought first to undo the latch.)
I saw stars for a moment, and as quick as a blink
My wife yelled, "See, you've had too much to drink!"

The moon on the water lit the marina up bright
(Which was good, since the kids had lost my flashlight.)
Then what with my wondering eyes should I see,
But a fat, fuzzy old guy in a Bayliner Capri.

Instead of an outboard hung on the rear,
Tied to the bow were eight tiny reindeer.
More rapid than Reggie, these coursers they flew,
And on each of their hoofs was a Topsider shoe.

With crashing and bashing and banging and knocking,
I knew in an instant they must be docking,
"No Dasher! Hold it, Dancer! Damn you Prancer and Vixen.
Stop, Comet! Grab a line, Cupid! Get bumpers, Doneer and Blitzen!
Look out for that boat! Watch that seawall!
Now fend off, fend off, fend off all!"

He was dressed in a red cap ringed with fur trim
Along with a Speedo that covered just a fraction of him.
I was shocked and astonished. What could I say?
I also go boating dressed exactly that way.

He then grabbed a bag, a bulging huge sack,
And hoisted it up onto his back,
He also had sponges and a mop in his grip,
As he waddled his way o'er to my slip.

He said "My name's Nick, and my friend, I can tell
That your gel coat needs buffing and your teak looks like hell.
Your vinyl needs cleaning, your lockers arranging,
Your holding tank pumping, and your oil a-changing,
You've put these jobs off for too long and you know it.
So here's all that you need. This time don't blow it."

Then as quick as he came, he was back on his boat,
His reindeer revving and eager to tote.
"Merry Christmas!" he called as they cruised through the night.
"And regarding the beer Joe, your wife she is right."


I fail to see the humor in portraying respectable
sailors as a bunch of Speedo-wearing, procrastinating
drunks who all have nagging wives and keep their
unkempt vessels at a dock.

Gee, and it is such an accurate portrait of Capt. Neil, isn't it.
--
Cheers,

Bruce in Bangkok

test - new computer
 

Just a test

test - new computer
 

On Tue, 7 Apr 2015 14:32:48 -0400, "Flying Pig"
wrote:

Just a test

===

Loud and clear.

test - new computer
 

On Tue, 7 Apr 2015 14:32:48 -0400, "Flying Pig"
wrote:

uJts t esat

Something ain't right, dude.