Miranda in Miranda's sight is old, gray and dirty; Twenty-nine she was last night; This morning she is thirty.
When I ponder my mind I consistently find It is glued On food.
I drink because she nags, she said I nag because he drinks. But if the truth be known to you, He's a lush and she's a shrew.
The trouble with a kitten is that eventually it becomes a cat.
Here lies my past, Goodbye I have kissed it; Thank you kids, I wouldn't have missed it.
I hope my tongue in prune juice smothers, If I belittle dogs and mothers.